#before anyone asks NO I don’t just get to read all day

[harryspet]

stray kitten | r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe x homeless!pogue!reader, heavy somnophilia, blackmail/manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think :)

Rafe icon: @/rafesfavslvt on pinterest!

In which Rafe grants you the freedom to come and go as you wish in his condo—but in return, your body becomes his to use freely.

word count: 3.5k

rafe cameron masterlist

The first night you met, a crashing sound wakes Rafe from his sleep. He’s delirious and still wearing his clothes from the same day. His flight had landed on the mainland at 11 o'clock, and after a long drive to Kildare, he'd collapsed on the couch in his condo's living room. He couldn’t quite gauge the time, but the sun hadn’t yet begun to creep through the tall windows that framed his space.

His mind was still foggy but he knew there was someone in his home, “Shit,” He muttered underneath his breath as he pulled himself off the couch and attempted to get his bearings. He found his phone, close to dying, lying underneath a pillow. The time read 2:19 a.m., making Rafe wince. He knew he hadn’t given anyone permission to be in his house. Sofia was the only one with a key and they were currently on an “off” phase of their on and off relationship. 

Rafe tucked his phone into his pocket, letting his eyes adjust, and quickly determining his plan of action. The bookcase beside the large-screen TV held a drawer. Precisely, Rafe moved over to it, and quietly retrieved a handgun that was discreetly hidden inside. 

The sounds of movement grew louder from the kitchen, and he could pinpoint the exact location now. His gaze shifted toward the hallway just off the living room, the one that led directly to the kitchen. Without hesitation, Rafe made his way toward it, the weight of the gun in his hand grounding him. 

The floorboards at the entrance to kitchen creaked slightly underneath his weight. Rafe knew he wouldn’t have the upperhand for long, soon he’d come face to face with the intruder, and he moved with determination. 

His heart beat louder than he wanted. As if on cue, the noise continued, and Rafe’s gun pointed toward his walk-in pantry. A quick shuffle of feet, Rafe moved quickly, strong arms pushing the door to the pantry completely open with one hand, the other tightly gripping the gun. 

He second guessed himself as soon as he saw you. His eyes scrunched in confusion just as you dropped the glass cookie jar in your hands, and the glass shattered all around your feet. The sound echoed in the quiet room, sharp and jarring.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. Rafe’s gaze searched your face before he scanned you over. Scrawny legs, dark, golden skin and bare feet that were unprotected by the glass now around your feet. 

His grip on the gun tightened instinctively, but he hesitated, watching as you flinched at the sound of the shattering jar. Frightened, doe-like eyes looked back at him, wide and vulnerable. Your face was soft, framed by large, unruly curls that tumbled down your shoulders, “Don’t move,” It came off more threatening than he intended, “You’ll cut yourself.”

You didn’t respond though Rafe could see you were holding your breath. He lowered the gun. There was something wild in your eyes, untamed. Rafe’s curiosity piqued, “Who-Who are you?” Rafe asked, “What are you doing in my house?”

A long silence followed and the tension grew thicker, “I know you understand me,” Rafe continued. He took notice of your clothing. Your jean shorts reached just above your knee and were practically falling off your hips. You wore a raggedy sweatshirt with all the letters faded and you were clutching an old, leather backpack, “You here to steal from me?”

Rafe appeared disheveled, his button-up shirt untucked from his khakis, but even in his disorder, he stood in stark contrast to you.

You shook your head, eyes bursting with fear, “I didn’t … I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t mean to?” Rafe replied a little too quickly and you gave him a look that said you might shrink in on yourself. 

“I’ll … leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were home.” 

“That’s called breaking and entering.” 

“I’m sorry,” You repeated again and Rafe couldn’t help the incredulous look that spread across his face, “All the lights were out and I just …I didn’t have anywhere to go.”

Rafe nodded slowly, trying to process your presence and the fact that he currently had the power to …possibly, do whatever he pleased with you. He could call the police. Or threaten to call the police. He could see what you were willing to do in order for him not to call the police on you. What would you be able to do? You barely looked strong enough to carry the bag on your shoulder. He didn’t need the gun or a threat to the police. He could easily overpower you. His thoughts wandered down that path, and he felt no guilt in doing so; he had long ago accepted the darker side of his nature. Still, you had taken the risk, broken in all on your own.

You were desperate, Rafe thought, as the realization sank in.

“You running from someone, sweetheart?” Rafe questioned further, “You got warrants? People after you?”

You shook your head quickly, “No warrants. No one…” It was vulnerable information, Rafe could see it in your eyes, but he currently held your fate in his hands. You had to trust him for the time being, “No one’s looking for me. My foster parents kicked me out, uh, a long time ago. And I just … don’t have that many friends right now. I was just going to crash for the night.”

“And take my food?” Rafe added, a tired smile on his lips. 

You were still unsettled, naturally, but Rafe had already decided your fate, “Yeah,” You admitted, “I’m sorry. If you let me leave, you will never see me again. I promise. Please don’t call-”

You froze when Rafe lifted his gun again. He made a show of him flipping on the gun’s safety and placing it on the kitchen counter. He took a step forward, luckily, he fell asleep in his Tom Ford loafers which could protect him from the shattered glass. He stood in the pantry, door way, reaching a hand out to you. When Rafe sensed your hesitation, he said, “I’m not going to call the police,” He reassured you, “Let me help you so you don’t cut your fucking feet and get blood everywhere.”

You let his larger hand, envelope yours, and you were about to take a hesitant hop over the glass but as you leaned closer, so did Rafe. Before you could react, he effortlessly lifted you, setting you down on the far side of the kitchen. “Stay there,” he commanded, his tone firm. “I’m serious, don’t move.”

You didn’t even know his name, yet his presence alone had you nodding in quick, unquestioning compliance.

His line of questioning continued as you watched him procure of a broom and dust pan, “You’re from the Cut?”

“Yeah,” You answered timidly. It wasn’t fully true. You’d grown up everywhere but the foster parents that had taken you in at fifteen were from the Cut and you’d made your Kildare your home over the next years. 

“I’m Rafe.”

“...Y/N.”

“And do you usually do your breaking and entering barefoot?”

"I don’t like shoes," you said, your voice carrying a weight of seriousness that caught Rafe off guard. He paused in his crouch, lifting his gaze to meet yours as he stopped sweeping the glass. His eyes searched your face, trying to gauge the sincerity behind your words. "Never have. And I don’t do a lot of breaking and entering…"

“You don’t like shoes,” Rafe repeated in understanding, “And you’ve got a sweet tooth?”

“You didn’t have much real food,” You said and regretted it quickly, “I mean-”

Rafe stood and you watched him bring the scraped up glass to the trashcan, “Noted,” Rafe interrupted, “I apologize, I travel too much. And I’m not much of a cook.”

“I didn’t mean…I’m sorry,” You spoke sincerely, pressing yourself back into his marble countertops. His kitchen was huge, covered floor to ceiling in white fixtures and marble accents. You could feed an entire orphanage with a kitchen like this and yet you had come to the conclusion that he lived alone, “I’m not picky. I’m really not. And I will pay you back for the jar.”

“Oh yeah?” Rafe’s eyes narrowed at you as he moved closer to you, “How do I know you won’t pay me back with money you stole?”

You couldn’t help that your jaw tensed at the question, “I guess you wouldn’t know.”

“And how do I know you won’t come back with one of your pogue friends?” He held you with his gaze, so much so that it became too late for you to realize that he was placing both his hands on either side of you, effectively pinning you against the counter. Instinctively, your hand reach out to keep him from coming closer. That was far too intimate, you realized, as your hands came in contact with the hardness of his chest. You gasped, your hand falling helplessly back to your side, “You sure there’s no lowlife pogue boyfriend out looking for you right now?”

“No,” You spoke rapidly, “Yes, I mean, I’m sure there isn’t. And I won’t come back-” 

“But you’ll do this again. You’ll get hungry or cold. And you’ll probably meet someone who’s not as kind and welcoming as me.” 

Your breathing started to grow uneven and your eyes began to look for an exit, an escape plan, “If you’re not calling the police then I’ll leave. After that, it wouldn’t really be your business.” 

He seemed to nod with understanding but he kept you trapped there, “I have another way you can pay for that jar, sweetheart. And the sleep I’ve lost. And whatever else you have stuffed in your bag.” 

A cold realization washed over you, “I promise I’ll leave and won’t come back-”

Rafe shushed you. You felt a hand at your waist, a hand so large it effortlessly almost encircled your entire torso. His finger traced the waistband of your jeans, the movement slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. Then, his thumb brushed against the skin of your stomach. The sheer size of him, his imposing presence, his towering height, felt like a physical weight pressing down on you. 

“You don’t want to leave,” He leaned down to speak into your ear. This was the reality of your situation. You were aware of the risks. You were only scared that he would hurt you badly, “You’ve got nowhere to go, sweetheart. You’re hungry. Tired. You want a warm bed to sleep in tonight, don’t you? A hot shower?” 

“Yes,” You spoke weakly. 

“Good, then stay,” His words settled into the air like a final decree, and you couldn’t escape them. Not physically, and not mentally.

The first night happened like a dream. He made you hot food, something that came frozen, but you could microwave in a few minutes. After he watched you devour the entirety of the meal, he led you upstairs to his bedroom. Even in the dim light, of the early morning, the hues of cream and white gave the room a serene feeling. It was a distinct reminder of how different your world was from his. 

He left you alone to shower in his luxurious bathroom. The rainfall showerhead cascaded warm water over you, washing away two days of grime and exhaustion. The soothing stream was almost enough to lull you to sleep right there. You explored the shelves, trying a eucalyptus soap and using far too much from the expensive bottles of shampoo and conditioner, their silky textures foreign to you. When you stepped out, the heated floor greeted your feet with comforting warmth, and you wrapped yourself in a fluffy white robe that felt softer than anything you'd ever owned.

Standing before the mirror in the double vanity, you finally confronted your reflection. You began detangling your hair with your fingers, doing your best before braiding it into long plaits. For the first time in years, as you stared at yourself, you felt a glimmer of humanity, a version of yourself you had almost forgotten.

Finally, you found a spare toothbrush and freshened up, the minty taste a small but satisfying indulgence. Layers of cozy linens and soft throw blankets seemed to call you from the bedroom. Quietly, you left the bathroom and stepped back into the dimly lit space, your eyes drifting to the man who had taken you in.

He lay peacefully in his bed, his business clothes abandoned. The faint glow of moonlight revealed the contours of his bare torso, and though he appeared peaceful, there was no mistaking that undercurrent of danger that lingered in his presence. Handsome yet terrifying, he seemed both protector and predator.

Logic urged you to leave, to take the fleeting comforts he had offered and disappear before he could demand anything in return. But exhaustion and the strong pull of his presence overruled your better judgment. Silently, you slipped onto the opposite side of the California king bed, careful not to wake him. When he didn’t stir, you allowed yourself to sink into the luxurious mattress. Sleep claimed you within moments.

Something, someone, gently lulled you from your sleep later in the morning. You didn’t know it then but it wouldn’t be the last time you’d wake up with Rafe on top of you. Soft touches, kisses, peppered across your cheek. Small pecks against your lips. The feeling was almost comforting enough for you to not realize the reality of your situation. As soon as you did remember that you were in a stranger’s home underneath said stranger, your body reacted accordingly. 

You bit down on his lip.

"Fuck!" he hissed, pulling back slightly. You seized the moment to push against him, but any hope of escape vanished as his hand shot up, gripping your throat with unnerving ease.

“Don’t fucking move,” he commanded, his voice low and razor-sharp.

Your words caught in your throat and you stared up at the man with wide eyes, “You’re feisty in the morning, kitten,” Rafe breathed out, wiping his lip with his free hand. A thin smear of blood painted his fingertips. “Calm down, your body’s ready, your mind just hasn’t caught up.”

Although you were unable to look down at your body, you realized that the robe you slept in was wide open, exposing your naked body, “You’re already wet. I made sure.” He explained in most normal of tones. You realized what he was implying. 

“You touched me while I was sleeping?” You were able to ask once you gave the impression that you were calming down and he loosened his grip. The words were weaker than you intended. 

“What was I supposed to do, huh?” A wicked smirk grew on his lips, “I’ve got a half naked girl in my bed. I’m s’posed to keep my hands to myself? Be a saint?”

You swallowed, “Can you just …” Your voice came out uncertain, “I d-don’t have that much experience.”

His smirk grew even more, “You don’t want me to be rough? Don’t want me to bite you so hard you bleed? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?” 

You threw your head back in frustration, “You scared me.”

“That’s not the response I was looking for, kitten.”

“I’m sorry,” You corrected yourself, “I’m sorry for biting you.”

“Good girl,” Rafe kissed the side of your lip and you tried your best not to squirm, “Ask me what you wanted to ask me.”

Hands on either side of your head, he pressed his lower body into yours and his hard member pressing against your naked skin made your eyes widen in fear. You couldn’t look down, knowing that if you could visualize how big he was, you’d never stop fighting him. 

“Will you be gentle with me?” You asked the stranger, “Please don’t hurt me, Rafe.” 

The words you spoke out of nervousness seemed to add to his exhilaration. His body enveloped yours, the weight of him pressing down on you. It was inescapable, Rafe pushing all of his length, slowly but fully inside of you, “Won’t hurt you, little one,” You held onto him out of necessity, wanting to stabilize yourself, but your body told you to do the opposite. Although your legs were pinned, you tried to push away from him, not believing your body could fit all of him, “I know it doesn’t hurt. You’re ready for me. Don’t you fucking run.” 

“Please,” You whimpered. He was right. It wasn’t pain that you were feeling, “It feels too … too much. Too full.” 

Rafe hooked his arms around your legs, folding you into yourself, as he pushed himself deeper, “Shit, shit, shit,” you gasped, the words tumbling out as your head fell back. “Ffff—oh my god!”

“You can do it, little one,” Rafe coaxed you through the sensation, “Look at you. Taking me so deep. You’ve almost got all of me.” 

Almost, the word made you want to explode. You tried to leave your mind, to not overthink in that moment, knowing your anxiety was getting the best of you. You focused on his words. Maybe he was right? You could do it and you could do a good job. He’s too big, but he’s right, you’re not in pain. 

Rafe’s face swirled with amusement and ecstasy, “Fuck, let me use that tight little pussy,” He groaned, shifting his hips slightly, only to test how much further he could sheath himself inside of you, “You’re being such a good girl, squeezing me so good.” 

The praise sent an unexpected jolt of pleasure through you. His voice was warm but demanding. He wanted you to surrender, and deep down, you wanted that to. 

Your breath hitched as he pressed forward again, and your body instinctively clenched around him. “Rafe,” you whimpered, his name slipping past your lips.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Say my name again, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, embarrassed by how easily he unraveled you, but Rafe wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, pulling you impossibly closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Say it.”

“Rafe,” you whispered obediently.

“Good girl.” His approval came like a reward. 

He adjusted his pace, moving in a rhythm that felt more intentional. It was overwhelming having him inside of you but you weren’t prepared for him to pull in an out of you, pushing deeper with each thrust. 

You weren’t sure if you were still dreaming. The gentle sound of the ocean outside the open windows providing a steady backdrop to the moment. The curtains swayed gently in the breeze, their flowing fabric catching the morning light.

It wasn’t a bad bargain, your mind started to rationalize the situation. When Rafe eventually finished deep inside of you, your body shaking beneath him, he proposed the idea of the two of you continuing your arrangement. Rafe traveled so much and it wasn’t in your nature to stay in one place for too long, he offered to host you whenever you wished. As long as you kept what was between your legs for him, you could make yourself at home, even when he wasn’t. 

He kept his fridge stocked for you, left you gifts in the form of new clothes (never shoes), and gift cards to restaurants and stores. 

Sometimes you’d go weeks in between seeing him, having missed each other, but when you were together, Rafe took full advantage. 

The sunroom became your sanctuary—a place where the world slowed down. You spent hours there, stretched out on a chaise lounge, the warmth of the sun blanketing your skin as you flipped through pages of a book or dozed off to the sound of distant waves.

Rafe loved to find you napping. The first time he came home from a long, work trip and found your body laid out on the soft carpet of the sunroom floor, he wasted no time. Easily, he lifted your patchwork dress and pushed your panties to the side. As soon as you stirred from your sleep, you realized he was pressing his length against your entrance, “Rafe,” You called out, half asleep, but he was already inside of you, “What –”

“Did you miss me?” He asks as he slowly moves in and out of you. 

You gasp from the sensation but also the shock. He doesn’t leave room for you to protest, to second guess yourself, because he presses his weight into you and pins you there to the floor. In prone position, he fucks you hard and slow, “Did you miss me, kitten?” He asks again and you try your hardest to form the words. 

“Yes,” You managed, able to feel just how much he missed you, “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” He confirms and you can practically hear his smirk, “This little pussy hasn’t been fucked in a week.”

The thought makes you grateful for that overwhelming feeling. That fullness. 

“Gotta take care of my kitten.”

+

Pls reblog and let me know what you think!! :)

[redeemingvillains]

the new girl (pt.2) - mattheo riddle

summary: you come to find that keeping your situationship with mattheo a secret is harder than you anticipated.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: suggestive content, 18+, please read responsibly my dears.

a/n: dedicated to the brilliant person who thought mattheo should be italian. i am kissing you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ part one here

Mattheo’s lips glided over your neck, alternating in a pattern of kissing and sucking that had your eyes fluttering closed as his hands wandered over your body.

“How long are we going to keep this a secret, bella?” he murmured against you without ceasing.

“Mmm, why? Aren’t you having fun?” you responded coyly, your own hands moving to untuck his shirt, to run your fingers over the firmness of his abs.

His body was electric for you and his mind wiped completely at the sensation of your touch as he pulled back to take in the vision of you, pinned against the wall, the way your heavily lidded eyes met his, unwavering, and the way you subtly pouted at the loss of contact, if only for a second before he kissed you hungrily.

“F’course I’m having fun” he mumbled against you. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you to my room every once and awhile, as nice as these accommodations are” he said, referring to the broom closet you were squeezed into.

“I got here three weeks ago and I’ve spent nearly every day since like… this” you said breathlessly as his hands wound into your hair, kissing you deeper.

“So?” he said, in the briefest pause.

“So I don’t want people to draw conclusions… I don’t want to get a reputation.”

“And what reputation would that be cara mia, hmm?” he asked as his hands wound down your body.

“That you have good taste?” he prompted, his fingers dancing over the waistline of your skirt.

“That you like a bad boy?” he continued, his voice huskier as his hand slipped beneath your skirt and you could feel the cool metal of his ringed fingers against the inside of your thigh.

Your body shuddered in response. I don’t want people to think I’m…easy you thought, even though you knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone else, but there was something about Mattheo was simply irresistible, eclipsing your every waking thought and you had a sneaking suspicion he felt the same way.

“Maybe we wait—” you started as his fingers brushed against you, exactly where you wanted them and your breath hitched “—a little while longer” you whispered.”

“Whatever you say, principessa” he said before losing himself in you.

Mattheo was so fucking smitten with you he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He loved the thrill of your current… arrangement… how exhilarating it was trying to rile you up and keep you quiet at the same time as you snuck into broom closets, abandoned bathrooms and the deepest corner of the restricted section of the library to be together. You swore to him over and over again that this was totally out of character for you, that you never did anything like this before, and that drove him even crazier, knowing that he brought out a side of you that simply couldn’t get enough of him, especially because he felt the same way.

But despite the heady cloud of lust and adoration that seemed to carry him throughout his day, he couldn’t forget the words his friends had said about you that occasionally echoed in his subconscious.

 “She’s all anyone can talk about”

“I would take a bludger straight to the head for just a taste of that”

His palms curled into fists at the memory until he flexed and released them. His friends knew better than to run their mouths like that now, but he was quickly finding that only left him with the rest of the school to deal with.

In potions he could hear Cedric Diggory and Michael Corner talking about you, how hot you were, debating again if it was true that you had dated professional quidditch players, a question that kept resurfacing in a way that was beginning to bother him. He turned around to glare at them but when they caught his eye, he realized he had nothing to say and no reason to stop them, so instead he had to sit through the rest of the class nearly shaking with fury at their comments.

Then it was his teammates in the locker room before quidditch practice, placing bets on who would be the lucky guy to get with you first. He slammed his locker closed and stormed onto the field.

But it all came to a head when he passed you in the corridor, you breezed by each other, each surrounded by your group of friends and enough students that the burning gaze you exchanged with one another went completely unnoticed, even though he picked up the way you subtly bit your bottom lip at him, a tell he’d come to know as you being incredibly turned on. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw you over his shoulder right there as you passed by but then a voice reverberated in the hall.

“YN! YN!” it shouted and he turned to see Seamus Finnegan yell at you as you passed him by.

“Want to see my wand, beautiful? It’s solid oak and 12 inches long!” His comment was met with a host of laughs and jeers from other Gryffindors and you rolled your eyes in a way that made it seem like this sort of thing happened to you all the time. Mattheo’s blood was boiling and he realized he was creating a commotion all his own by the way he was standing still and staring at you in the crowded thruway, his face grimaced and the tic on his jaw evident. Your cheeks flushed at the look of fury on his face until one of your girlfriends pulled you away.

That night in the library, you traced your fingers over the ridges of his bruised and battered knuckles before your eyes flickered to his, doe-like and innocent as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“What happened?” you whispered.

“S’nothing” he said, gently pulling his hand from your grasp and moving to cup your face, desperate to touch you, to kiss you.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” you pressed.  

He shook his head, blowing the comment off and moving closer to you until you said, “And what might Mr. Finnegan look like at the moment?”

“Like he’s taking a good, long, fucking nap in the infirmary with a pair of black eyes” Mattheo said, his voice low and rough.

And before you could comment, he added, “And I don’t want to spend another minute with you hearing another bloke’s name on those lips” as he kissed you firmly, seductively and grasped your face in his hands.

And then you were awash with him again, adrift in the sensation you’d come to crave from him, dripping with an air of possessiveness that had you coming apart faster than you had any time before.

You rode the high of Mattheo knocking someone out in your honor for days. The perfect combination of the way he lavished you and equally had such a capacity for violence excited you, thrilled you.

Your mind was drifting in and out of thoughts of him as you re-applied your lipgloss in the bathroom when you heard Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass chatting a few sinks over.

“Are Nicole and Mattheo still hooking up?” Astoria asked, catching your attention.

“She said he’s been ghosting her” Pansy replied. “Why, you want in on that?” she joked.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it, haven’t you? You heard what she said about him.”

“Gods yes” Pansy agreed. “Maybe send him a little pic, you know he can’t resist that.”

They brushed by you and you realized your hands were shaking as you gripped the sink in front of you so tightly your knuckles were white.

That night Mattheo noticed something decidedly different about you, the way you twirled your tongue with his, the way you ran your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and sent shivers up his spine, like you were trying to tell him something without words, until finally your hands were on his belt and you pulled back from his lips for just a moment.

“Maybe this doesn’t have to be a secret anymore?” you said quietly.

His heart leapt in his chest, whether at the precarious position of your fingers at the present moment or the words you’d said, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not complaining, but why the sudden change of heart?” he asked.

You pouted and fidgeted and he realized there was no facial expression you could make that didn’t make him want to do absolutely sinful things to you as he kissed your pouted lips, turning them into a smile.

“Hang on. This doesn’t have anything to do with Nicole and Astoria getting expelled today, does it?" he said, a smirk blossoming on his lips in revelation. "I heard they had a bag of weed and a load of enchanted quills in their rooms.”   

Your eyes glinted as they flickered to his and you tugged him closer to you by his belt, softly biting your bottom lip as you shrugged halfheartedly, daring him to say more.

I fucking love this girl he thought clearly.

“If me spending every night on my knees for you wasn’t clear, cara mia, I am absolutely mental over you. And I’d love nothing more than for every girl in this school to know it, to know that I’m yours. Va bene?”

“Molto bene” you said, drawing the words out against his lips as you enveloped them, the sound of his native language coming from you demolishing him as he pulled you tightly against his chest.

@kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @elsie-bells @hisparentsgallerryy @the-sylver-dragon @r-a-c-h-e-l @noodleboyluke @slutfordpr

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolf | Werewolf Boyfriend? (Female Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s a little longer than I anticipated however I just adore it. I hope you all will enjoy it as well!

-🪐

He was known as the as the asshole of the college. Always picking fights and going after anyone who even dared breathe in his direction. He stood tall, muscular with scars that decorated his face and arms. His wolf ears standing at attention but not listening to anything that was around him. Everyone avoided him like the plague even you. However today had other plans.

You were sprinting down the hall, trying to get away from some asshole who couldn’t take no for an answer. When you ran face first into his broad chest. He was ready to say something to you until he saw the other man that trailed behind you. He grabbed you by the waist moving you to behind him before locking eyes with the other guy.

“Get lost” he said in annoyance. The other guys eyes looked over at you then back at him. Was he really willing to pick this fight?

“Dude Kyzer relax, just- just let me get my girl and we can forget any of this happened” the man said trying to grab for you.

Before you knew it he had the guys arm twisting it. “I said.” He growled. “Get lost”. His grip on his arm tightened nails digging in before pushing him away. The other man admitted defeat walking back with his tail between his legs.

Kyzer looked at you glaring down at your shaken body. “You good?” He asks surprising you even more. You don’t respond though, mind still in flight mode. He placed his hand under your chin lifting it up to look at him “hello? Are you good?” He said sternly.

You quickly nod snapping back to reality “yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry. Uhm- thank you.” You rambled out. You swear you saw a smile creep on his face but it was quickly gone.

He cleared his throat “if he tries anything again uhm?” He said hinting at you to tell him your name.

“Oh, uhm y/n” you said.

“If he tries anything again y/n, you come to me yeah? I’ll put his ass in the ground” he said with a twisted grin before walking off.

What was that? Was he actually nice? Or did you just catch him on a good day? No matter you went about your day. Going home and studying before getting the idea to bake him something to say thank you. Maybe he wasn’t so bad? Maybe this could be a way to get him to open up? But why did you want that? You scratched your brain, shit- did you like him? No, no that’s crazy. You still baked him something treats to take to him, hopefully he liked cookies.

The next day, you found him in his usual spot. Sitting at the tree while he ate his lunch. He looked peaceful as he ate, listing to some music and flipping through a book. You were so nervous to approach him but you did. Tapping him on the shoulder he turned his head quick. Ready to scream at whoever dared to disturb his peace. Until he noticed it was you, he tilted his head a bit like a puppy.

“Sorry for bothering you- I- uhm- made you these. As a thank you” you said sheepishly handing him the small container of cookies. He blinked, processing what you just said. No one’s ever really shown him much kindness. Even for doing something good like he had for you. So to say he was taken aback was an understatement.

“You made these for me?” He asked repeating your words.

You nod smiling at him shyly. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for you I- I don’t know what would have happened” you admit.

He felt his cold heart warm, pounding so loud he thought you could hear it. He looked over your face trying to read you. Fuck were you this cute yesterday? “Thank you” he said taking the container. He opened it right away the smell of the cookies making him sigh happily. “They smell delicious” he said smiling down at them.

He’s smiling? He’s smiling! Your heart skipped a beat seeing his pretty smile. Those sharp pearly whites of his made your body warm. Your face must have been red cause he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re cute” he said. It slipping past his lips before he could even stop himself. The compliment only making your face turn more red.

“I- uhm- thank you” you said feeling like you could puke at any second from the butterflies. “You’re not so bad yourself” you said with a smile.

His face started turning red, before he quickly turned away. “You uhm- you like movies?” He asked feeling stupid at his question. When you nodded his words came out fast “you wanna watch a movie later?” Fuck why’d he say that, his place was a wreck.

“Sure!” You said smiling like a dummy. “I just got a new system, we could watch it at my place?” You said.

“Cool, cool. What’s your number? So uhm- I can get your address” he said trying to play it cool. After exchanging numbers your alarm for your next class goes off making you jump. “I’m guessing no horror movies if you jump that bad from a phone” he teased.

You rolled your eyes “I’m gonna be late, I’ll text you my address. 7 sound alright?” You ask.

“Perfect” he said.

And you were off, sprinting to your next class.

His mind twirled with the thought of you. Fuck what did he get himself into? He doesn’t talk to many people nor has he ever had an actual relationship let alone a date. Sure he’s had his share of hook ups but that’s about as deep as it went. What the hell was he gonna do?

When the time came he stood outside your door taking a deep breath before knocking. When you answered his heart raced, here you were in sweats and a hoodie. How the hell did you look so good? When he walked in the smell of you overflowed him almost making him dizzy. You guided him into the living room where you had a bunch of blankets on your pool out. You were gonna be on a pull out bed. A bed. The two of you. His cock twitched in his pants at the mere thought of it.

“I’m sorry my place is a bit of a mess, but I got the couch all cozy. Oh and I have a bunch of snacks if you’re hungry” you said with a shy smile. He nodded following you to the pull out, when he sat down the scent of you was even stronger. Probably from all the covers you gathered from your bed. “Wanna watch a horror movie?” You asked flickering through the movies on the tv.

“Sounds goo- wait” he said looking at the screen. “You like that show?” He asked seeing a show you were watching earlier. It being one of your favorites.

“Uh yeah! It’s like one of my favorites I’m rewatching it since the new seasons gonna be coming out” you said smiling.

“No way! It’s one of my favorites, I’m super excited for the new season! I even have a poster of it in my room!” He rambled. It was cute seeing him all excited over something he liked. Seeing his cute smile light up.

“Maybe when the new season comes out we can have a watch party? I’ll make us some dinner and we can binge watch it” you said.

“Sounds perfect” he said back. It felt nice being able to talk to someone. To have something in common with you too.

You both decided on a movie, getting all covered up as it started. He was nervous to move closer to you but you were feeling a bit bold so you Scooted closer. Your shoulder touching now bodies close to one another. The scent of you driving him crazy more so now that he could feel your warmth. He moved his arm, to finally wrap around you “uhm- is this ok?” He said softly.

You nodded “aren’t horror movies the best ones to cuddle up too?” You said laying your head on him.

“Is that why you picked it” he said back in a teasing tone.

“Maybe”

“In that case why don’t we lay down in cuddle hmm? I mean we got this whole bed in all” he said with a smirk.

He was surprised that you instantly moved letting him lay behind you so you could both could watch the movie properly. He took his spot behind you wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body as close as he possibly could. His hand rested on your waist holding you tightly. His mind swirled with your scent god how was this happening to him?

A few minutes passed as you focused on the movie. Being painfully aware of the man behind you as he pressed himself against you. You could feel his girth cock pressing against your ass and you couldn’t help yourself. Grinding back against him, he let out a groan barely audible if it weren’t for him being so close. The sound of him turning you on way more than you thought it would. He didn’t stop you though, letting you rut yourself against him. Finally getting some friction.

His hand that was resting on your waist squeezed at every movement. You could hear faint ‘fucks’ coming from him only driving the want higher. The movement of you paired with the sweet smell of your dripping cunt was becoming too much for him. His hands hooked your at your pants “can I take these off?” He said softly.

You nodded letting him rid you of your sweats and your panties. He pushed his pants down after taking yours off. His big cock springing free finally. You could finally feel how big he truly was, fuck did you want him. His hands glided down your body moving your leg over his. His long fingers pressed against your needy nub making you whimper. His face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he licked up it.

His fingers lazy played with your clit before roaming further down. He couldn’t believe how wet you were, how wet you were for him. His fingers finally pushed into your dripping core curling ever so nicely. His movements were just as lazy, his thumb pressing against your clit once more. His mouth watered at the smell of you. He needed to taste you, and he needed to do it right now. With no warning he pulled himself from you quickly moving his body down yours.

He dived into your cunt, tongue quickly pushing into your folds. The moan you let out made his cock twitch. It was already leaking like a faucet ready to be buried inside you. “Fuck you taste even better than those cookies you made me” he said. His hands hooked around your legs pulling you closer to him as he ate you out like a starved animal. His tongue pushed deep inside you twirling around your tight walls. Your hands gripped at anything before gripping at his hair. You tugged on it softly making him groan “pull- ah- harder” he said. Of course you listened, tugging on his hair harshly pushing him somehow deeper into your cunt.

He felt like he was in heaven, fuck this must be heaven. Your cunt clenched around his tongue, knowing you were close he moved his hand to toy with your clit yet again. It didn’t take long after that for you to cum. Your body arched off the bed moans getting trapped in your throat only breathes making it past. He lapped up any of your sweet honey that dared to escape. Licking you clean before moving upwards to you. He kissed you messily. His cock head poking at your entrance.

Without any thoughts you moved yourself down letting his thick cock push into you. The stretch wasn’t bad, in fact the slight pain felt good. “Sh-shit” he moaned against your lips.

“Please- move” you whined out bucking your hips into him. His eyes met yours and what a sight to see. Your eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed red. Fuck did you look so good. He blinked a second before everything sunk in. Your warm walls squeezing him so tightly. He started to move slowly before picking up speed.

His hands moved down pushing your shirt up. You quickly helped taking it off as he took his off too. He was delighted to see you didn’t even have a bra on either. His hands roamed your plush body, pinching at your perky nipples. He was quickly losing himself in you. His movements were becoming faster as his high was reaching near. “God you feel so fucking good, was this your plan all along huh? Get the big bad wolf all alone in your house to fuck you like a wild animal?” He teased.

“You- ah- you started it. You’re the one that was pressing there big dumb cock against me” you retorted.

“Can’t- can’t help it when you smell so good” he said back.

His movements were slowing down a bit making you whine. “Getting tired already? Need- ah need me to ride you?” You said with a grin. You felt his cock twitch at your words oh he definitely liked that idea. He wrapped his arms around you before lying flat on his back. Your legs straddled him the new position making him feel even deeper. His hands laid on your thighs those sharp nails digging into the soft skin.

As much as he wanted to show you how much of a big bad wolf he was he couldn’t help it. You were just too much for him, he was like some puppy dog that you had wrapped around your finger. When you finally got your feet in a proper spot you started moving. Bouncing up and down on his stupidly big cock. His knot forming as if his against your entrance. He watched as your tits bounced with every movement. His long tongue hung out of his mouth drool pooling with it.

“Fuck- just like that- ah” he moaned out. “Gonna let me knot you? Fuck please let me- need- need to breed you- ah- ah” he was such a mess under you. Your legs shook at the sight of him at his words. An orgasm washed over you without warning. Your body felt almost limp as it laid on top of him.

“I’m yours-“ you said in almost a whisper against his chest but he heard it. Oh boy did he hear it loud and clear. His hands gripped at your ass, fucking up into you with force.

“You’re mine? All mine?” He growled. “Good- all mine to- ah fuck- to breed- to claim- mine- mine” he kept repeating. Your hands that laid on his chest stared to dig in it his toned muscle. The slight pain Only driving him to fuck you harder. “Gonna take it all yeah? Gonna take everything I can give you- you’re mine. Mine.” He said.

“Yours. All yours.” You said softly against him. When those words finally left your lips that was it. He pushed up into you with one final thrust, his knot pushing past your entrance. The feeling alone bringing on another strong orgasm as you felt his balls empty inside you. His head that was nuzzled into your neck moved as he sunk his teeth deep into you. The pain the pleasure the everything of the situation had your mind floating. Your body shook harshly as you felt yourself squirting all over his cock and yourselves.

He let out a low growl holding your body tightly to him. He held you against him as you both came down from the intense orgasms. “You did so well” he almost purred into your ear.

A few minutes of silence mixed with heavy breathing filed the air before he spoke once more. “You really meant it right? That you’re all mine?” He asked sheepishly, afraid you’d take it back.

“I meant every word of it.” You said smiling. You kissed his cheek softly holding tightly to him.

You might have only known him as the asshole of the college but now. You were seeing him for who he truly was. He would let everyone believe he was still this big bad wolf that didn’t take anything from anyone. However when it came to you he was just a sweet overgrown puppy that would do anything for you.

[strawberrystepmom]

bakugou x f!reader. part 2 of a mini series called by heart. part 1 can be found here. cw: mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content, weddings. | word count: 1.7k, reading time: ~10 minutes

The welcome dinner went off without a hitch. The bride and groom sat next to each other, glowing and in love and sneaking glances the entire evening. Several other bridal party members and assorted early arrivals joined the soon to be newlyweds, yourself, and a very frosty Katsuki. You pushed bangs belonging to a very drunk Shinsou Hitoshi off of his face to help him see and sent him off to the elevator safely. That call a member of the bridal party very nearly made to her ex while she was kind of drunk and missing him? Thwarted thanks to the communal pep talk she was given before you took her up to her room.

There will always be small dramas whenever the entirety of your group of friends is in one room, usually ones that everyone communally knows about. The issue is that nobody knows about what happened between you and Katsuki so the tension seems kind of out of nowhere.

“You were like all over him the last time, what happened?” Ashido asked you with a sigh while you waved her off and opted to remove the heat from yourself by asking her about her relationship status. 

If she’s noticed you know it’s going to become an unavoidable issue if the two of you cannot talk it out. The need to just get past it influenced your decision to invite him into the hotel bar with you to start with, as bad of an idea as it’s proving to be. Public is probably not the best venue to have a personal conversation but you know he doesn’t want you in his room and you definitely don’t want him back in yours and this bar is just intimate enough it’s unlikely anyone will overhear unless they’re trying very hard. 

“Are you going to actually talk or are we going to sit here and watch each other drink all night?”

Despite yourself, you laugh at his annoyance. It’s funny that he thinks he has the right to be at all when he’s the one who created this shitstorm to begin with. 

“If anyone should start us off, it should be you. You’re the one who left.”

Groaning, he opens his mouth to speak. You stop him, putting your hand out, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to make the first move despite the pit it creates in your gut.

“I never thought you were that type of person. Every other man, of course because that’s just how men behave. You, though?”

With a head shake, you lift your glass and tilt until the rim is almost fully touching your mouth to truly pull every last bit of vodka from the bottom of it. 

You won’t let him see how much what you’ve perceived as his rejection has affected you. It’s the mantra you’ve been repeating since boarding your flight this morning even though you did cry on the way to the airport, silently and alone.

It’s stupid to cry or be upset at all but it could be that a bit of you hoped that he saw you as special and still does to this day. Unfortunately him coming as close as he’s ever come to fucking you and subsequently running pretty much convinced you the opposite is true. So you’ve cried and asked your friend who is set to be a beautiful bride in two days what she thinks and she’s told you that you need to be the one to talk to him about it and you’ve been stubborn and she’s been irritated and now you’re here, using sheer will to keep yourself from crying and poorly attempting to lap up severely watered down vodka to make up for the courage you naturally lack.

Sliding your glass onto the bar, you place your elbow atop the counter as well and rest your chin against your balled fist. 

“Not you, Katsuki. And I guess it could really be that I never knew you at all so feel free to tell me I’ve always been wrong at any time – it just kind of feels like shit to uh, get played by the one guy you hope won’t do it.”

Averting your eyes, you keep them toward the back of the bar. You really don’t want to look at him right now, aware of what that pitiful look on his face that he keeps trying to hide with a grimace will do if you look at it for too long. You aren’t world class when it comes to being a boundary enforcer and it would take very, very, very little for him to get back into your good graces. 

Something like a tiny, little, so minute and small you can barely picture it…

“I’m sorry.”

Exhaling loudly through your nose when he says the very small words you’ve been hoping to hear, you now are left considering how to accept them gracefully. It would be a lie to tell him you haven’t been aching and lying is something you aren’t in the business of doing very often so you don’t want to let him off the hook that easily. 

You open your mouth to speak and he stops you this time, raising his free hand while he cradles his half drained glass in the other.

“This makes no sense and I’m not sure how to say it but I feel like I forget how to act when you’re around.”

Tilting your head to the side curiously, you look at his glass and then back at him but he only harrumphs at your insinuation. 

“I’m not drunk right now, this is barely even a drink to begin with,” he swings his crystal glass around with a frown. “Every time we’re together I feel like someone else. You keep me up all night talking and I never tell you to stop or that I don’t care because for some inexplicable reason, I do give a shit even if this is the only time we see each other. And my god you do this fucking thing…”

He trails off, setting his glass down on the bar beside yours to try and contort his face into the best version of yours that he can. There’s something uniquely hilarious about seeing such a stoic man forcefully widen his eyes, looking around the mostly empty bar coquettishly and blinking. Pressing your palm over your mouth to stifle a cackle, you shake your head and he throws his hands up and leans in, the tip of his nose shockingly close to yours while his expression falls back into its natural state.

“I don’t speak eye contact. What the hell does that mean? What do you want from me?”

Your head remains tilted but the lightness in your expression falls, your eyebrows furrowing.

“I mean, what I want from you is friendship? Someone to talk to and hang out with outside of these shitty, hectic wedding weekends?” Scoffing, you desperately look around the bar to locate the tender and order another drink. “God, is that really what you wanted to say to make this whole thing right?”

The man sighs, defeatedly.

“No and if you’d listen to me you would know it.”

All you do is shrug, blink wildly, and lean in his direction to emphasize how ridiculous you find what he’s saying. 

”Okay awesome, well I am listening and now all I know is that I make you late for bedtime when we hang out. That still doesn’t tell me why you left that night.” 

Pinned by his inability to say the find even a slightly right thing to say, he recalls why he didn’t want to have this conversation with you at all and originally planned to dodge and avoid as much as possible over the course of the weekend. Granted he has had over a year to come up with a decent lie and hasn’t. He could also pretend to be the asshole everyone seems to think he is and just brush it off. Something keeps him from veering into flippant behavior and it’s an urge to protect your feelings as a means to say thank you for the good memories even if the two of you do not make a single one to add to the scrapbook during your best friends’ shared wedding. 

Finally convinced that you’ve intimidated him enough, you lean back against the chair and cast a glance that screams ‘your move’ so loudly the childish version of him that still lingers in the back of his head on occasion wants to scream it right back. Blessedly, he’s more in control of himself and chooses instead to say what has been heavy on his heart since the early morning hours he left your side knowing he’d be hurting someone he cares about in the process.

“Because if I stayed we would have probably ended up going all the way and I didn’t want us to do that while we were drunk, alright?” Setting his glass down with a thud, he rises from the barstool. “You can believe me or not if you want to but I'm done talking about it. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Have a good night.”

You watch his every move despite remaining practically stuck to your chair and inside your feelings, his thick fingers digging into his pocket for his wallet to slap a few paper bills down onto the bar in an effort to continue behaving like the man you used to assume he is. 

None of what he said explains why he jumped to the nuclear option of leaving yet there would be no reason for him to lie about something so significant when you’re already pissed off. Even your instincts are telling you that this is the honesty you’ve been hoping to eventually receive. 

“Katsuki.” He looks up from his hands when you say his name, eyebrows raised and mouth drawn into an unamused line. “I believe you.”

He nods though it doesn’t seem like he necessarily believes you and turns to exit, leaving you with little besides more questions.

For instance: has he thought about what it would be like to have sex with you sober before? 

It’s the most insufferably shallow thing to take away from what was said, barebones as it was and truthfully it’s less about what his words were and more about the uncharacteristically sheepish and hurried manner in which he spoke them - like he was making a confession and not an apology.

Shaking your head, you rise just as he did and toss your own cash down on the bar. At bare minimum you can say that the mutual axe sharpening appears to have ceased for now.

[httpsdana]

hey love x

can you write something about reader not feeling like anybody cares about her anymore like pau has been distant and her friends have been excluding her and stuff? just a lot of angst as im dealing with some friendship problems rn.

it’s okay if you don’t! love you and your writing ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Mirrorball~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: part 2?

It had been there for a while, that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t particularly one thing that made her feel like that. It was everything.

After her semester was over and she had a break for a few months, she expected herself to go out and enjoy herself. But now halfway through this vacation all she did was sit at home, away from everyone.

Not on purpose though, all she wanted to do was be around her loved ones. But it seemed like the feeling wasn’t mutual. Her friends, who had been there with her through her whole life, almost seem like a distant memory now.

All she sees is pictures of them all together, hangouts that are hidden from her, an invitation never sent her way.

And Pau. Oh Pau. He was always her person, even before they started dating, he was the only person who was with her all the way.

But something changed. The phone calls started getting shorter and the messages she sent were left with no replies. She didn’t understand what had happened. It was like he was slowly pulling away and she didn’t even have the courage to ask him about it, afraid she might lose him for good.

The day everything went down began like every other day. She always had that little glimpse of hope that she’d wake up to one of Pau’s ‘good morning’ messages, that were a part of her old routine, but again all that hope shattered when she stared at the picture of her and Pau on her lockscreen, no messages, nothing.

The picture now mocked her; how she kept all this foolish hope even after everyone made it clear they didn’t want her around anymore. But she didn’t want to believe it, not now.

She sat on her bed, the house quiet after her parents left for a while, something about a family funeral all the way across Spain.

Usually she loved some quiet, but now it was suffocating. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand, opening her messages app.

She hesitated before opening her friends’ group chat, the one that had been silent for a while, which made her realize that another one exists; one she wasn’t a part of.

Her fingers typed out the message, and before she could reread it, she hit send.

y/n Hey, does anyone maybe wanna go to the mall?

The message was left with no reply for about an hour, with most of the girls seeing it but not replying. She let out a sigh, the hole in her chest deepening as she once again felt invisible to everyone. The hope in her came back when one of the girls started typing.

Isabela I'll go if Gabriela goes

Her heart dropped once again as she read the message. She didn't wanna go for her, she wanted to go if Gabriela went.

Her phone buzzed once again, more messages from the group chat

Gabriela fine I'll go

y/n swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, forcing herself to type out a response.

y/n cool. let's meet there at 2

She dropped her phone on the bed, already regretting it, but she needed the air outside the house.

It was 2:30, they were late. She had been sitting there just scrolling through Instagram, seeing the recent pictures of Pau in training.

His carefree smile, how he didn't seem to focus on anything besides training, not even her.

“Sorry we're late, we had more important things before,” a voice said, making her look up at the two girls. Though her voice lacked any sign of guilt, y/n smiled and stood up.

“It's fine. where should we go first?” she asked, clutching her bag tighter.

“Isa?” Gabriela turned to the girl who thought for a second before answering.

“We should go to Zara. I've seen some things online that are perfect for tonight's party” she said, before Gabriela nudged her quickly.

y/n's smile faltered, before forcing it back again. Another party she wasn't invited to.

“Let's go,” she mumbled, though the girls had already started to make their way to the shop.

In the store, she felt like a ghost again. The girls were going through the shelves, suggesting clothes for each other, helping each other choose the perfect outfit for tonight.

“I think this color looks good on you” she tried joining the conversation, smiling at Isabela.

The girl gave her a look, before turning to her friend, making y/n's smile fade again.

“Gabriela? What do you think?” she asked, giving her a spin.

Gabriela inspected her dress for a second before shaking her head.

“No, I liked the one before better,” she said. Isabela nodded and went back to the changing room.

y/n opened the door of the house, dropping the keys on the nearby table and rushing to her room.

She thought a day out would make her feel better, but all she felt now was worse, and all she wanted to do was talk to Pau.

He was always the one to make her feel better, and she hoped, just slightly, that he'd answer her and listen to her.

She opened her phone, hesitantly typing a message to Pau before pressing send.

Hey Pau, I had a really bad day and I just wanna talk to you, please 

She stared at the message for what felt like an hour, just waiting for something. anything.

After about an hour, she opened her phone again, only for her to see that Pau had seen her message. no reply

That was the last straw. Tears welled up in her eyes quickly, and before she could stop them, they were already falling down her cheeks.

She just wanted to feel visible for someone. She wanted to believe that she wasn’t alone; that someone cared. Her family. Her friends. Pau.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (12/18)

(A/N: Just wanted to wish you all a Happy New Year! Here's to a better year and more of this LaDS obsession! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus takes Reader out on a trip to confess something very important and ask an even more dire question

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor blood letting/mixing. Mating rituals. P in V. Cunnilingus.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (13)

Read on AO3

Sylus was concerned. Since coming back from the village you had not been the same. His usual bright and spirited little bird had grown silent. You moved about the mountain as if you were a ghost. Despair clung to you like a shroud and no matter what he said or did, you remained in your sullen state.

He did not know what to do. He knew that your relationship with your father was important and getting in that fight with him had been a terrible blow. You had gone back to the village a couple times since then to pick up some things, chat with friends, and you always stopped by to see your father. But each time nothing changed. Things were still tense and you only came back home feeling worse.

Part of Sylus wanted to confront your father and scream at him for making you miserable. It was not your fault that he was upset. If you wanted to stay with Sylus that was your own business. It should not matter to him so long as you were safe and happy.

Another day had passed and Sylus was in the kitchen area of the mountain trying his best to make tea for you. You had picked up some when you last went to the village. He rather liked it but he still didn’t understand the steeping process. But he needed to try something.

He took the mug of tea with him back to the bedroom where you were sitting, a book laid in your lap but you were not reading it. Your gaze was lost to the void as you stared at the wall.

“Ahem,” he stepped infront of you. “Care for something to drink?”

“Thank you.” you took the cup and peered inside. “Did you make tea?”

“Tried to.” Sylus shrugged. You took a tentative sip. Your face was fighting to stay neutral as you swallowed. “A little strong.”

“Apologies. Still learning.” he sat next to you. “Good book?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have yet to actually read any of it.” you closed the book and sighed. “Can’t focus on much of anything nowadays it seems.”

“Little bird,” Sylus wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you next to his side. “I know you can’t just change the way you feel but lingering over this will only hurt you more.”

“It just hurts so much.”

“I know. And I appreciate your desire to stay here but if it is only making you more miserable then you may need to return to the village.”

“What? No! I don’t want to go back to the village. I want to stay.” It was the most energy he had gotten out of you in days as you frantically said you wanted to remain on the mountain. Your eyes were pleading with him not to send you away. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here with you, Sylus.”

“Alright. It was just a suggestion.” he pulled you onto his lap. “I just hate seeing you in pain.”

You relaxed in his arms. He held you close, breathing in your familiar scent and the feel of your body against his.

With him.You wanted to stay with him. You had said the same when he gave you the option before. Back then you said it so casually, as if you were confused it was even a question whether you would want to remain with him or not. He thought that maybe your opinion would have changed considering how you had been behaving these past few days. He hated the idea of you leaving but if you were only going to be miserable with him he didn’t want to keep you from something that may make you actually happy.

But you had said you wanted to stay. You wanted to stay with him. After everything that had happened, you still chose him.

His entire life he had never been desired anywhere by anyone. Sylus belonged to neither humans or dragons. He had resorted himself to a life of solitude on this mountain until you appeared and brought so much joy into his life. He never wanted to lose you.

Perhaps…perhaps that is human love. This ache in his chest, this desire to dry your eyes and banish your heartache, this need to have you near him at all times. He could not say for sure. All he knew was that he wanted to show you just what you meant to him. But what? Would anything be appropriate while you were still so upset?

The days continued to pass and you began to perk up. You were smiling more and talking more. There were times where he came upon you and you were standing still as a statue, a thousand yard stare in the middle distance. You had also stopped going to the village as much as you had been. You admitted that most of the reason you had been stopping by as often as you were was to try and talk to your father. But if he didn’t want to talk to you then you weren’t going to hurt yourself any longer trying to reconcile with him.

Sylus had also yet to tell you how he felt. He felt it every day. He wanted to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out. Maybe if you said it first he’d be able to say them as well.

What pushed him over the edge was one evening you were laying next to him in bed, your head resting on his shoulder. Your fingers were tracing his chest and rested on the gem in the center of his torso. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what is this?”

“That is my heart, little bird.”

Your eyes went wide. “Are you being serious?”

“Very. At least, it is an opening to my heart. The fleshy organ that actually pumps my blood is underneath it. The gem is just part of the protection around it.”

“Wow…do you feel anything when I touch it?”

“Almost. It is very faint though. It’s not exactly a sensitive part of the body.”

“I see.” you placed your hand over his heart, feeling the steady thumps under your palm. You gave him a little smile before pressing a kiss to the gem and resting your head back on his chest.

Sylus took back everything he had said about not being able to feel anything when you touched it. You might as well have dug your hand in and taken it from his chest. It certainly didn’t feel like it belonged to him anymore.

So, here he was. About to do something that would either make him the happiest he could ever be or would end horribly. Hells give him strength.

He found you sitting cross legged on the dais in the hoard room. You were rearranging gems to create mosaics on the stone. You looked up when you saw him and smiled. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making designs.” You gestured to the pile of gems in front of you. “It’s the closest I can get to making stained glass designs here and I’ve found I miss the work. What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering how you would feel about going on a little flight?”

“Really? That sounds great!” you jumped up. “When are we going? Where are we going?”

“We can leave as soon as you are ready and the destination is a surprise.” he was so glad to see you acting more like your old self again. “Now go put on some shoes and something warm to wear. It’s cold out.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m going.” you scampered back off into the mountain. When you were ready Sylus picked you up and took off. You flew for a long while but you were enjoying it. Your arms were outstretched as you glided through the air, completely unafraid that Sylus may drop you. You trusted him so much.

“Look down, my little bird.” he told you as you neared your destination.

You opened your eyes and peered down. Below you was a valley full of bright red flowers that swayed in the crisp autumn breeze. Sylus touched down in the center of it and set you down. You gazed around, your eyes wide as you took in the sight. “It’s beautiful. How did you find this place?”

“Passed through it once on my travels.” he watched as you bent down and picked one of the flowers. “The blooms don’t last long so I thought you’d like to see it now before they all wither with the winter. I remembered your story about the blood moonflowers and while these are not those I thought you’d like it just the same.”

“I love it. This is amazing.” you laid back in the field of flowers. Sylus sat down next to you. Throughout the rest of the afternoon you frolicked through the flowers. You had taken many of the flowers and wove them into a wreath that you proceeded to put on his head.

“It looks good on you.” you said, adjusting it slightly.

“Glad you’re having fun.”

The sun began to set and the golden light that shone on the red flowers looked as if it sent the entire meadow ablaze. You sat their transfixed as you watched the light dance. “This is breathtaking.”

Sylus could not take his eyes off of you. The golden light silhouetted you like a halo and for the first time in his life Sylus believed the gods could be real. The hells could not make something so perfect as you. “Yes, you are.”

“Hm?” You turned your attention back to him.

Now or never. He took your hand. “I have a confession to make. I did not just bring you out here to show you this meadow. I wanted to tell you something and ask you a question.”

“If you’re going to ask me if I want to return to the village again, Sylus, I swear to the gods--”

“No. No. Quite the opposite in fact.” Hells, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

“I did not think there was anything in this life for me. Since I was a child I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Not with dragons. Not with humans. I thought I had been cursed to be alone. That was until I met you, a girl in a ridiculously expensive dress and dirty boots hiking up a mountain to meet a dragon. I did not know what to make of you back then. I thought that perhaps I could have you as a companion, someone to make my isolation a little less lonely. But you ended up being so much more.

“I adore you. I adore the way you can’t hide a single thing you feel, how you were almost never scared to bite back at me when you were mad, how brave you are, how caring, how smart and creative. You not only banished my lonely days, you filled them with unending light and renewed a hope that I do not think I’ve felt since I was a child.”

Sylus could see tears welling in your eyes. It made him smile. He knew those tears were not made out of sorrow as so many of yours had been lately.

He took your other hand. “So what I’ve wanted to say to you is that you were right. Dragons may be incapable of love, but I am not all of me a dragon. I am human too and I’ve realized it isn’t the curse I thought it was, because it let me fall in love with you.”

The tears were falling down your cheeks now. “You…you love me?” your voice was choked with emotion.

“Yes, my little bird. I do. Which leads me to my question.” he cleared his throat. “Know that if you say no it will not change my feelings for you. But I need to know if you would become my mate.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” it felt like his heart was going to burst outside of his chest. “Will you become my mate? Understanding all that it means. That we will be connected, tethered together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes. I do.” you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tight. “I love you too. I would love nothing more than to be your mate and spend the rest of my life as your other half.”

Relief flooded through him. “My better half.” he murmured.

“So um, how do we do this? You said there was a whole ritual, right?”

“Yes, which I’m realizing means you’re going to have to try and speak in Draconic.”

“Oh…is it hard?”

“Certainly isn’t easy, but we’re going to try. It also requires blood, so here.” he took your hand and pressed a claw to your palm. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

He sliced a thin line down your palm. Little drops of blood seeped from the cut. He then drew a cut across his chest and placed your bleeding palm over it. “Now, say exactly as I say.” He began speaking slowly in Draconic, making sure you could copy the words as best you could on your own tongue.

He felt it and he could tell you did too. The shiver of magic that ran through your bodies, connecting at where your blood mingled.

“Now what?” you whispered, afraid to break the silence.

“Now comes the more fun part.” he grinned, taking you and rolling you onto your back.

“We’re doing it out here?” you asked.

“Has to be done immediately. Why?”

“It is the middle of autumn. It’s cold.”

“Trust me,” Sylus edged the hem of your skirt up. “You’re not going to be cold for long.”

The layers of your clothes were peeled away until you were lying in that bed of red wildflowers naked as the day you were born. Your body trembled but he couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or nerves. You were certainly excited, he knew that much. Not even a field full of fragrant flowers could mask the sweet scent of your desire.

He wanted to savor every moment of this. He hovered over you, taking your lips in a soft and slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his chest was pressed on top of yours.

That was another thing, you never recoiled from his more dragon like appearance. The scaled armor on his arms, his chest and his legs never seemed to offput you. The only thing you ever complained of was that he had to forcefully recede the claws around his hands so he could finger you. That was it. Even then, you never asked him to do it. More often than not you would fuck yourself on your own hand to get your body ready for him so he didn’t have to go through the painful process that was sheathing his claws. Not even when you were in the throes of passion and he held you too tight and they dug into your skin you never complained or asked him to stop. You desired him exactly as he was, never asking to soften his sharp edges. He wished there was more he could do for you.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving soft kisses from your throat, your sternum, between the valley of your breasts, and further down your abdomen and your hips. Your legs were already open inviting him in. He kissed up your thighs. A small whine left you when he had skipped over your cunt to pepper your other thigh with kisses, a grin on his face. He wanted to sink his teeth in but he knew the first bite he took would be his mating bite and he wanted to put it somewhere he could see it even when you had your clothes on, although the idea of being hidden where only he knew was exciting too. He’d just have to leave other marks there.

He finally directed his attention back to your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your throbbing clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. Your moans were immediate and he loved how they echoed in this meadow.

He moved his attention lower to your pussy, tasting the sweetness of your arousal. Everything about you was always so warm and sweet and he wondered how he had gone so long without it. He wanted to do this for you every day. Spread you wide and drink you down until you were nothing but a pile of limp shaking limbs, spent and dizzy with desire.

Your hands carded through his hair before grabbing hold of his horns. Fuck! His tongue moved faster, probing inside your cunt, lapping up every drop of arousal straight from the source. You were deliberately moving your hands up and down his horns to turn him on even more.

“You’re very handsy today.” he groaned, pulling back just enough to speak.

“I like it when you moan against my cunt.” you said, your breathing labored.

“I bet you do.” he smirked, licking a stripe up your cunt. The tip of his tongue teasing your clit again. He kept your gaze as he devoured you, his moans sending vibrations through your body while you ground against his face.

“That’s it, wildfire,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, “Come for me. Come all over my face. I need you to come for me.”

“Ah! Fuck! Sylus!” your voice was cracked and pleading. “Oh fuck! Almost--almost--Sylus! Sylus! Please! Sylus!”

Sylus watched as your eyes fell closed, unable to keep them open while your orgasm drowned you. Your body was still moving, grinding against his face as he worked you through your orgasm until you finally stilled. Your legs shook slightly but other than that you seemed fine.

Good. He was far from done with you yet. At least now he knew your body was ready for him. He could truly take his time now.

“Still with me, wildfire?” he asked, coming back up to lay by your side.

“Yeah.” you breathed out. You rolled over to kiss him, a small moan escaping you as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Good. Because the next part of this is what solidifies the mating bond. If you want to stop, now is the time.”

You rolled your eyes and straddled yourself across him. “Never.”

“My brave bird.” he sat up to kiss you again. “It’s fairly easy what happens next. You have to pick a spot to bite. I plan on putting my mark right here,” he kissed you high on your neck. “Now you have to pick yours.”

“These mating bites are going to leave marks?”

“Yes. They fade a bit but they’ll still be noticeable, like an old scar.” Sylus explained. “Now, where do you want to put your mark on me?”

Your eyes roamed his body before you touched a spot on his throat as well, matching the spot he chose for you.

“Good choice.” he rolled you over so you were back under him. “I want to make love to you now. So don’t rush or try to make this harder or faster than it needs to be. We have all the time in the world for that later. Today, I want to be gentle with you. I don’t just want to say I love you. I want you to feel it down to your bones that I do.”

“Sylus,” you cupped his face, “I would love nothing more. I love you. I love you so much and I cannot wait to be your mate.”

“My mate…” he liked the sound of that.

He slowly sunk his cock inside of you. You were still so tight. He pulled out a bit and sunk in again, easing himself bit by bit into your pussy. Nothing felt as good or as right as it was when he was in you, moving with you.

He kept his body gently laid atop yours, making sure not to crush you under his weight. He just wanted to feel as much of you against his skin as he could.

When he finally was fully sheathed inside you he stayed there unmoving for just a moment to look you in the eyes. There was definitely lust but more than that, he saw love. He saw unwavering trust and adoration in your gaze. His wonderful little bird. You really did love him, didn’t you?

He pulled out and sunk back into you, his body rolling slowly against yours. He pressed his lips to yours again, taking every little sigh of yours down his throat. His body was screaming at him to go faster, take you harder until you were screaming his name. But he ignored it, keeping the pace slow and sweet. He wanted this moment to last as long as it could.

The sun dipped and disappeared over the horizon, leaving the pair of you under the pale watchful eye of the moon and stars. It reminded him of the night on the cliff overlooking the beach. The first time you had kissed him. The first time you had admitted to wanting him in the same way he wanted you.

Back then he had thought that what you had started would be something fun. Nothing serious. He had believed he was incapable of the love humans showed so he had not thought that anything could go wrong. He could not love and you would have been insane to fall for him. Yet here you now were. Your bodies moving together in an age old dance as he made you his mate. After tonight you would be his mate and nothing could undo it. You’d be his and he’d be yours…forever.

He had a brief thought as you moaned in his ear, nails scratching at the exposed skin of his back. If she’s my mate then I’m going to have to warn her about how intense dragon ruts can get after this. Hopefully rut wasn’t something he was going to have to worry about for a while so he had time to talk to you about it.

His pace got a little faster, a little harder as instinct and the need for release started to become more prevalent. Now was the time, before he lost all control.

“I’m going to mark you now.” Sylus said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you pulled him closer for one more kiss. “I love you, Sylus.”

“I love you too.” he nuzzled your neck, kissing the spot he planned to mark. He felt your own mouth on his neck, your lips soft and pressing against his pulse. Then the sharp bite of your teeth.

He groaned, opening his mouth and biting down hard on the spot high on your neck. Just like when your blood was mingled at the start, Sylus felt a shiver of magic course through him. He knew you felt it too.

Your pussy clamped down tight around his cock as you moaned against his neck. Then all at once his body erupted in fire. It spread from where your mouth was and flooded his blood. He felt renewed, invigorated, and more than that, he felt connected. Everything about you was amplified. The sound of your breath, the feel of your pussy, the taste of your skin.

Your legs locked around Sylus’s waist. When he pulled back from your neck he saw a small twinge of red glowing in your eyes, mixed in with the color of your irises. This was it. The magic at play, bonding you. Now all that was left to do was make you come undone around him.

His thrusts got faster but he refused to take you like an animal just yet. He wanted you to come around him as he made love to you. The first act as your mate, he wanted it done with love, not feral desire.

“My mate,” he said, his claws digging into the ground on either side of your head as a method of control. “I want you to come for me.”

“My mate,” you gasped out, eyes full of joyful tears. “Come with me. I want you to come with me.”

He loved the way that sounded on your tongue. My mate.

His thrusts grew quicker and stuttered out of rhythm as his orgasm drew closer. Everything was too hot. He needed to cool down. He needed to finish in you. But he wanted to feel you come around him first. Wanted your pussy to squeeze every last drop of his cum out as you came. You were so close he could tell. Just a little more.

“I need you to come for me.” his voice edged on begging, so close to coming. “I’ll only come when you come.”

“Sylus!” you were sobbing with need. “Please! Please! So close!” Your hand snaked between you two and swiped at your clit.

“Yes! Hells yes! Make yourself feel good.” he was rutting against you now, so painfully close. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this. “Come. For. Me!” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust.

Then, your pussy clenched, gripping and gushing around him as you came. Your moans echoed across the still night air for miles. And Sylus followed you into sweet oblivion, spending every drop of his cum into your tight cunt. And he couldn’t fucking stop! It felt as if your pussy had truly milked everything from him, pushing everything out with each flutter of your hot slick walls.

Your body glistened with sweat and your eyes were closed as you took in deep breaths, your arms and legs still wrapped tight around him.

Even in the pale light of the moon he could make out the mark on your neck claiming you as his own. He bent closer, kissing it gently. Slowly your body started to relax as he kissed you and whispered comforting words in your ear. At last your legs unhooked from behind his back. Sylus unearthed his claws from the soil.

“I’m going to pull out now.” he said. Your eyes were still closed but you nodded. There was a small wince as he pulled away. You were still incredibly sensitive. So, very carefully he took you by the hips and rolled you on top of him so you weren’t pressed into the cold ground anymore.

“You were so good.” he whispered, “Take deep breaths, relax. Let your muscles release that tension and just melt. It’s alright. I’m right here with you.”

“Sylus,” you opened your eyes once more. The red that had been in them had disappeared. “We’re mates now?”

The smile nearly split his face. “Yes, we’re mates now.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now and forever.”

“Now and forever.” you repeated, a tired but joyful smile on your own face. You laid your head back down.

Sylus stared up into the sky at the vast endlessness of the inky blackness that stared back, with you laying atop him breathing gently. And in that moment he felt true peace for the first time in his life. No matter what happened now, your very souls were bound together. No force in the heavens above or the hells below could undo it. You harmoniously and irrevocably belonged to each other.

Now and forever.

[hetacon]

I know you've asked for Ravioli/Legend art prompts at the moment, but I'm craving seeing more Wild and Twilight hurt/comfort in your sweet art style lol so I had to ask, just in case you get inspired at a later date (no pressure I hope! 💙). Could I just ask for a sweet hug between them, or a piggy back ride, or Twilight watching Wild with resigned concern while he's stuck in a vision? :3 I just love their relationship soooo much and your beautiful art of Twilight sewing and his soft smile as Wild sits wrapped around his arm makes me tear up so much ahhhhhhh anyway much love to you dear, I'm honestly happy to see any art you create and give to us lol so thanks for reading my derpy rambling either way xD

How about all three? :)))

I will literally never turn down requests for the Wolf Siblings (or Wolf Trio), even if I’m not actively asking for requests! The two of them make me so soft, I love them so much and Twilight taking care of Wild is my favorite thing in the whole wide world! 🥺 And I’m glad I held on to this ask for a little bit before I started working on it, but the explanation for why is a little long so I’ll put it under the cut

These drawings actually ended up being extra special because the first two were my last pieces of 2024 and the third is my first piece of 2025!! What a wonderful way to close out one year and start the next!

(Also thank you so much for the compliments on my art, I’m so glad you like that drawing of Twilight sewing and Wild holding on to him ☺️)

So a little bit of Stan Lore for y’all, I have two siblings: my younger sister who’s a couple years younger than me (who I’ve mentioned before) and my older sibling who’s 7 years older than me, who’s been living on their own for about 8 years after they graduated college. The reason I haven’t mentioned my older sibling before is because I’m no longer on speaking terms with them, and part of this is due to the guy they recently married, the short explanation being that both my sister and I don’t trust him and he gives me bad vibes. My current relationship with my older sibling is actually one of the reasons that Twilight and Wild’s bond means so much to me but that’s a story for another day

Anyways, last Christmas, my older sibling and their husband didn’t come over for our family’s usual get-together, much to my sister and I’s relief, but this most recent Christmas they unfortunately did and so I barely interacted with anyone this year because I didn’t want to risk potentially getting trapped in a conversation with either of them, and I even snuck out of the house for an hour to go on a walk with one of my friends. Their husband even being in my house freaks me out and I’ve had more than one panic attack about just the thought of it so I knew that I needed something to get me through us hosting Christmas dinner this year, and I decided Wild and Twilight art was the perfect thing! Luckily it worked, drawing art of my favorite boys helped me calm down and grounded me! So all that is to say, thank you for sending me this request, I really needed it 💜

[pathological-runaway]

“Isle? But it’s so… empty.” You spend the next three hours wandering aimlessly across the sand dunes looking for anything that could make anyone prefer Isle to Prairie or Valley or even Wasteland. You get liking a place for its beauty or for its charm, and you almost understand enjoying it because of danger. But liking something that’s so empty, just sand and broken boats? It’s beyond your comprehension. The mystery of loving Isle of Dawn doesn’t leave your mind for days, yet, despite all your efforts, you don’t see what’s so special about the lifeless desert.

read the fic here or below the cut

“You alright?” they ask, sitting down on a bench. It’s nice to finally have a chance to talk to them.

“Yeah. Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome!”

A pause. You should say something. You really should. But what?

“What’s your favourite realm?” you ask because you don't know any other way to keep a conversation going.

“Isle of Dawn.”

You’re confused.

“Isle? But it’s so… empty.”

They shrug.

“A little. But it’s nice.”

You spend the next three hours wandering aimlessly across the sand dunes looking for anything that could make anyone prefer Isle to Prairie or Valley or even Wasteland. You get liking a place for its beauty or for its charm, and you almost understand enjoying it because of danger. But liking something that’s so empty, just sand and broken boats? It’s beyond your comprehension.

Sure, the sunrise looks nice, but there’s not much to it, especially after you’ve seen it a couple of times.

You return to the village, confused.

***

The mystery of loving Isle of Dawn doesn’t leave your mind for days, yet, despite all your efforts, you don’t see what’s so special about the lifeless desert.

***

“What’s up, little one? You seem down. Is everything alright?”

You sip your juice sadly.

“Thanks, Candlemaker, I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”

The spirit sits down next to you, a radiant smile on their face. They’re kind and warm and it makes you a little sad for some reason. It would be nice to have someone this kind by your side all the time. But they’re a spirit, they stay in Aviary and never travel anywhere other than the starry sky. They have a family there, you recall. A partner and a child.

Their child is lucky to have a parent like them.

“Anything I can help you with?” they ask.

“I don’t know. About a week ago, someone told me their favourite place was Isle, but I don’t understand why. There’s nothing there but sand.”

Pointing Candlemaker thinks for a while, tapping their fingers on the counter.

“Well, Isle hasn’t always been like this, you know.”

For some reason, you've never thought of this. It’s easy to picture Prairie with all the buildings intact, or Valley in its past glory. Even Wasteland keeps traces of what was there before the world ended.

But Isle?

“It wasn’t?” you ask incredulously.

Candlemaker shifts in their seat to get more comfortable.

“Oh, you would’ve loved what it looked like before…” they start, and it seems that they’re never going to stop.

You listen to them carefully for an entire hour until you fall asleep to the rhythm of their voice.

You dream of starry nights and flowers and lying in soft grass.

***

You visit Isle again the day after. It's still empty, but if you look closely, your imagination paints a picture over the empty hills.

You see grass, just like that growing near the Temple. You see flowers — they’re neither big nor very bright, but their soft hues are beautiful, and you never expected this beauty to be hidden right here. You feel a cool summer breeze coming from the endless sea and hear a tinkle of bells in the distance.

You still think Isle is empty, but it’s good to know there’s more to it than you previously thought.

***

You’re lying in the grass on the roof of the Nesting shop, trying to discern a constellation in the sky. It’s tricky.

“Looking at the stars?” you hear a voice and sit up.

“Yeah…” you reply shyly.

“Is it alright if I join?” they ask, their eyes shining.

“It is. But, uhm… I think I’m bad at this,” you confess, fidgeting with your hands, “I haven’t found a single constellation yet.”

“Oh, it’s OK! I could show you if you want! It took me a while to learn to notice them, too.”

The smile on their face is so big you start smiling as well.

“Thank you. It would be great.”

You both lie down and study the stars. After some time, you ask:

“Stargazer, can you tell me about Isle?”

And they do.

You listen attentively and when you return to your nest, you think of vast seas and shooting stars and sitting quietly at the shore.

***

You go to Isle again and sit down on a stone, contemplating the ocean. When you close your eyes, you can picture a landscape so pretty you wish you could stay there forever.

You see waves kissing the sand on the coast. You hear birds singing nearby and a child laughing by your side. You imagine them playing with small rocks and building a tower. You feel a chilly wind coming from behind you as the sun goes down.

When you open your eyes, Isle is so painfully empty you consider never returning.

***

“Wow, that looks heavy! Mind if I help?”

You nod, and the spirit takes half of the boxes.

“Thanks, Voyager,” you breathe out.

“No problems, mate. Where are you taking all this stuff?”

“Harmony Hall. Frantic Stagehand asked me to collect all the instruments from the Concert Hall to get them checked. I guess I overestimated my muscles,” you add as your whole body screams at you.

“No worries kid, it happens. Let’s get going before you get arthritis or something.”

You start arguing that it isn’t actually how you get arthritis and that you’re too young anyway, and they laugh.

“I know, I know. Just kidding. Don't take it too seriously. Come on, no dawdling!”

When all the boxes are in their place, you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

“Voyager, do you have anything nice to tell me about Isle of Dawn?”

They do. You sit down on the bench in the hall and listen to them talk, while some younger kids practice music clumsily in the background.

As you teach a little mothling how to hold the guitar correctly, you ponder on flying boats and birds and believing in a brighter future.

***

You come to Isle once again when you have time. You fly all the way to the Temple and look down at the desert. If you look closely, you notice things you’ve never paid attention to.

You see flying boats, big and majestic, carrying people to where you’re standing. You see kids playing, adults chatting, happy and enthusiastic and looking forward to arriving wherever they’re going. You hear birds chirping happily and guiding the travellers. The wind is rising. You see mantas flying — funny how you didn’t even know there were mantas is Isle.

There are no more.

A tear runs down your face. Isle is so empty now. So, so empty.

***

You sit by the bonfire with Passage Guide, Tumbling Troublemaker and a few mothlings. The marshmallows are tasty and the stories everyone’s telling are fun.

Oddball Outcast accidentally throws their ball into the fire, and everyone’s laughing while Passage Guide is indignant. You know they’re not actually angry.

You’re laughing along as you realise Isle has never been empty. You just couldn’t see it.

***

“I always get lost in these dunes,” your mothling says, frustrated.

“Don’t worry, you’ll memorise the path one day,” you pat them on the shoulder.

Have kids always been so small?

“I hope so. Thanks for guiding me.”

You smile at them.

“Oh, no problem! I like helping people out! The next one’s on the ledge.”

You land near the light and wait for the mothling to collect it.

“Do we have to do this every time?”

“Yes. It gets easier after a few tries though.”

They don’t look encouraged.

“Hey,” you say, getting down on one knee to look them in the face, “everyone moves at their own pace. It’s alright to learn things slowly. Stars, you can’t even imagine how lost I was at the beginning. I refused to leave Forest because I’d seen a red shard behind the Temple and though it was what Valley was like!”

You laugh, and the kid smiles.

“That’s silly.”

“Yeah. But it’s more fun this way, isn’t it?”

They think for some time.

“I suppose it is.”

And then,

“What’s your favourite realm?”

You can’t help but laugh again. Oh, what a mothling thing to ask!

They remind you of yourself, in a way. Young, innocent, and having no idea how to keep a conversation going.

“Isle of Dawn,” you reply after a bit.

They frown.

“Isle? But it’s so… empty.”

You smile and close your eyes.

“A little. But it’s nice.”

___

if you enjoyed this one, don't hesitate to drop a kudos or a comment here or check out my other fics. thanks for reading and have an amazing day!

[fanficsbysteve]

The Key to my Heart

Note: Well, here’s an idea that I had, and it took me all of 3 hours to write. I wasn’t the hugest fan of the way things ended for Buck and Tommy so what you will read now is how I imagine it should have gone if the writers weren’t going for maximum shock value.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave me some kudos there.

W/C: 1574

Rating: PG for some implied sexy times near the end.

***

Tommy sat and stared at the pictures of Evan and Abbie on his phone. Pics of them together, pictures of them kissing, everything. Tommy wouldn’t be shocked if there were some not so safe for work pictures on this phone of Abbie and Evan. Tommy’s mind was going a mile a minute, trying not to think too far into it. He had left Abbie by this point; he didn’t know Evan at this point either. He couldn’t fault them for being together. He couldn’t dictate who each of them slept with or had a relationship with just like he didn’t think anyone had any right to telling him and Evan about their relationship.

Evan was talking to Tommy, something about admiration. Tommy felt his heart dropping. Did Evan actually see him? Did Evan actually know anything about him? This was the man who spent a day and a night researching a cowboy dead 100 years, but didn’t know the Kinsey Scale, and had forgotten that he was 100% gay. Tommy tried to tune into what Evan was talking about, “So I thought, why be apart when we can be together,” Tommy felt his heart sinking further at this. Evan was jumping ahead. Tommy didn’t know how to handle this. He had been in this place before, he had been the person jumping ahead before and it never ended well, “So I wanted to give you this.”

Tommy was confused. This was not what he thought was going to happen. Evan was reaching into his pocket and came out with a key, “What’s this?” Tommy’s voice was breaking due to all the emotions he had been building up, but he cleared his throat to hopefully get it back to normal.

“Well, I originally thought to myself ‘Wouldn’t it be great if me and Tommy just lived together. We already spend so much time together and it would make being with each other so much easier’ and as much as I would have loved that idea,” Evan explained, “After 6 months of dating, it would have been going a little fast, and I’ve had so many bad things happen from going so fast. So, I thought of the next best thing. A key to this loft,” Evan gestured around to the loft around them, “That way you can come whenever you want, and you don’t have to wait for me to be home, or have to wait outside for me to let you in.”

Tommy was taken aback when the key was slid towards him. A key, that’s what this was? A key to the loft, “Thank you,” Tommy said, “I don’t have a key for you though.”

“You don’t need to give me a key to your place,” Evan replied, “I just wanted to give you a sign that you mean a lot to me. That you are someone I can see a future with eventually. Josh gave me this long speech at 911 HQ about Glee that made no sense to me cause I’ve never seen Glee, but it made me realize some things and myself, and about you, and about us.”

Tommy just sat there, staring at Evan. Staring at this idiot of a man who somehow can say the right things at the right times, but also somehow not, “I think we need to talk a bit more about ourselves before we consider the next steps,” Tommy said, “Learn more about each other before you decide that I’m your forever guy. There are so many things about me that you don’t know. That few people know.”

“I want to know about you, Tommy,” Evan said, “And I don’t want you to feel pressure to tell me everything, but I just want you to know that I won’t judge. You aren’t judging me for being with your ex-fiancé.”

“That’s to be determined,” Tommy chuckled, “Well as a start, I guess, I want you to know that I only came out as gay five years ago. I broke things off with Abbie, transferred from the 118, you can ask Hen and Howie about what I was like back then, and started a new phase of my life at Harbor Station. But I didn’t come out officially to anyone around me until two years after my transfer. I’ve got a lot of traumas related to being gay and I don’t exactly handle them in a productive manner.”

“I’m sorry that you had to handle things like this alone. You shouldn’t have had to be like that. You know the 118 as it is now would have supported you in everything right?” Evan looked at Tommy, his eyes showing he truly believed the words he was saying.

“I was at the 118 under Gerrard,” Tommy explained, “You only had to experience a fraction of what it was like. I’m at peace with where I am now. I just want you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t still empathize,” Evan replied, “And in the spirit of sharing trauma from our past,” Evan said, “I was only born to be spare parts for an older brother who was dying from Leukemia. I only learned about this about 3-4 years ago.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped open at this admission. How was Evan so well adjusted knowing that, “I’m so sorry that you believe that. I’m sure you weren’t just spare parts.”

“Oh, I was, my parents told me as much,” Evan laughed, “Defective parts no less. The son my parents wanted died a year after I was born because my bone marrow couldn’t save him. I came to terms with all this years ago. After a huge yelling match with my parents,” Evan shrugged.

Tommy walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. The longest hug they had ever had. Tommy felt tears in his eyes as he held Evan. His Evan. Tommy pulled out of the hug and looked Evan right in the eyes, he had to say this now or he never would, “I have something to tell you,” Tommy said, “And I don’t need a response from you either, but I just want you to know this,” Tommy took a deep breath before he continued, “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

Now it was Evan’s turn to have his mouth drop open. Tommy felt a sense of peace from saying that, but he also felt a sense of dread. What if this admission to Evan made him realize that he didn’t truly see a future with him. What if this is what ended things? Tommy’s heart couldn’t handle that. But he had to let that out. A thousand more What If’s flooded his brain as he stood there looking at Evan, trying to get a read on his face, “I don’t know what to say to that,” Evan said flabbergasted.

“I don’t need a response,” Tommy interjected quickly, “Let’s just pretend that I didn’t say anything and go have our movie night,” Tommy looked at the clock, “Though I think we might be too late for that.”

“No, I do want to respond to what you said,” Evan replied. Evan also took a deep breath, “I don’t know what I feel about you. I don’t know if its lust, love, or something else that hasn’t been defined. What I do know is that I do feel something for you. Something that makes me feel like you are meant to be the one. The one that I spend the rest of my life with. The one that I have been looking for all these years. I might not be able to put it into simple words, but I just wanted you to know how I feel. Maybe it is love. I mean I’ve been in love before, but it feels different from that. More complete. Maybe what I felt before with someone wasn’t love. Or maybe because its with you, someone who makes me feel comfortable and at peace with myself, maybe it feels different because its with you. I don’t want to put a label on it but that’s how I feel.”

Tommy smiled at Evan. He did realize that he was falling in love with this man, and this just cemented it. He noticed how he felt as far back as that funeral for Billy Boils. How passionate Evan was about this long dead cowboy. His words that day stuck with Tommy, and he wanted to be Evan’s people. The ones that make life worth living, “That’s a great answer,” Tommy choked. He pulled Evan into another hug, and this time let the tears slide down his cheeks, “That was the perfect answer.”

Evan smiled and kissed Tommy, not a chaste kiss that they had been sharing lately, not a heat of the moment passion kiss that they shared at the hospital before the wedding. This was something different. Different emotions were brought into this kiss. Tommy enjoyed it, “So we definitely won’t make our movie now,” Tommy said into Evan’s mouth, “Did you have a back-up plan?”

“Well, we are here,” Evan said, “And you did make an implication when you arrived,” Evan started to wiggle his eyebrows in a suggestive way, “Might not be as quick though.”

Tommy smiled at the thought and let Evan pull him towards the stairs to his loft bedroom. This was a much better ending to this day.

***

                Note: I hate how BuckTommy ended just as much as the next person, so I decided to rewrite how I wanted them to go that night. So, this is what you get. In my brain now this is what happened, and the rest of the season so far is scraped. I also wanted to get you guys something as it has been a week since I last posted and I was starting to feel bad.

[societyfolklore]

Plus One - The Aftermath

Title: Plus One - The Aftermath Pairing: Loki x SHEILD Agent!Female Reader

Summary:  The new year had brought a return to routine, but the memory of the Christmas party lingered like a ghost, haunting you in the quiet moments when your mind wandered. But unfortunately secrets never stayed buried for long.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, smut, Oral sex (F receiving), fingering. No beta read.  

A/N: My first part two! Part One (Yes, there will be  part 3)

It began with Natasha, whose observational skills were as unerring as her aim. You had barely taken the first sip of your second coffee when she slid into the seat opposite you in the breakroom. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes gleamed with a curiosity that set your nerves on edge. “So,” she began, drawing out the word with a sharp lilt. “Anything interesting happen at the Christmas party?”

“Not really.” You frowned, adopting an air of innocence. “Tony went all out, as usual.”

Natasha’s smirk hinted at the arsenal of information she already possessed. “Right. And what about the part where you and Loki conveniently disappeared at the same time?”

Your heart stuttered in its rhythm, but your resolve held firm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, don’t insult me,” she replied, her tone light but her words cutting. “The way he was watching you all night wasn’t exactly subtle. And then you both vanish? Please.”

You opened your mouth to refute her claims, but Natasha raised a hand to halt you. “Relax. I’m not here to pry. Just… be careful. Loki is, well, Loki.”

Her words followed you long after she left, planting seeds of doubt that you had carefully avoided. Who else had noticed? How much had they seen?

By mid-afternoon, her warning replayed itself on an endless loop in your head, blending with every glance or half-smile Loki had sent your way that night. Had you really been that obvious? You tried to remember if there had been a moment when anyone might have noticed you both slipping away. Natasha’s insight wasn’t the kind born of rumour-it was sharp, precise, a weapon honed from years of observation.

When you bumped into Steve later that day, his polite smile faltered for a fraction of a second before settling back into its usual warmth. "You doing okay?" he asked, his voice steady, though there was an undertone of curiosity.

"Fine," you replied too quickly, brushing past him without making eye contact. The encounter left you unsettled. If Steve had noticed anything, you wouldn’t hear it from him directly-his tact was ironclad-but his lingering look as you walked away felt heavier than usual.

By the evening, the paranoia Natasha had sown was blossoming into a tangled mess. You found yourself overanalysing every interaction, every seemingly innocent glance from your colleagues. The walls of SHIELD felt closer, more suffocating than ever, and Loki’s shadow loomed in every corner, his presence as inescapable as the doubts now trailing you. You resolved to confront him soon-not just for answers, but for your own sanity.

By the week’s end, the rumours had evolved from quiet whispers to pointed remarks. Clint, during a sparring match, dropped a casual comment about 'making new friends' accompanied by a smirk that made you falter mid-strike. His words lingered, distracting you enough to earn a jab to the ribs that left you wincing. “Focus,” he teased, though his grin made it clear he enjoyed having unsettled you. "Unless you got someone- thing else on your mind?"  You feel heat hit your cheeks that wasn't just from the physical exertions before getting grouchy and throwing another strike. 

Tony, as expected, was less subtle. He cornered you in the lab, his grin predatory as he tapped a wrench against the workbench with mock gravity. “So, you and Asgard’s Emo Lord,” he began, the words heavy with amusement. “What’s that about?”

You groaned, feigning exasperation. “Nothing. There’s nothing going on.”

Tony arched a brow, unconvinced. “Right. Because the way he looked at you at the party screamed nothing. You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Maybe you’re just imagining things,” you shot back, hoping to derail him. It was futile.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Tony leaned in, his smirk widening. “You know, if you’re looking for tips on how to handle moody divas, I’ve got experience.”

You turned back to your work with a frustrated sigh, but Tony’s knowing laugh followed you like a shadow, his taunts replaying in your mind long after he left. Every attempt at avoidance seemed only to feed the fire. Clint brought it up again over dinner, making an offhand remark about  'fraternizing with the enemy' that earned him a glare from Natasha and an apologetic shrug in your direction.

Even Bruce, ever the diplomat, offered a hesitant observation as you passed him in the corridor. “You seem… distracted lately. Everything okay?” His concern was genuine, and that made it worse. The weight of their collective scrutiny pressed down on you, fraying your nerves and leaving your defences ragged and ineffective. "I'm fine." It felt as if the walls were closing in, each rumour and teasing remark amplifying the tension that already simmered beneath the surface.

When you finally crossed paths with Loki in the library, your resolve was a fragile thread, pulled taut. He lounged in a chair, the picture of unbothered elegance, a book balanced between his long fingers. His smirk when he noticed you sent a flush of irritation through you.

“We need to talk,” you said, folding your arms in a feeble attempt to keep your composure intact.

“Ah,” Loki drawled, closing the book with deliberate care, “my darling has finally come to her senses. Here to beg for more, are you?” His gaze swept over you, a languid appreciation that made your skin prickle.

“Stop,” you snapped, your tone sharp, though it didn’t seem to faze him. “The comments, the teasing-it ends now.”

Loki stood, his movements slow, deliberate, as if to savour your growing frustration. “Why?” he asked, his voice dropping into a husky, velvety timbre. “Because it frightens you? Or because you’re afraid of how much you enjoy it?”

You bristled, taking a step back as he advanced, the air between you electric. “Whatever happened at the party-it was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“A mistake,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth lifting into a sardonic grin. “Then why are you still thinking about it? About me?”

His words struck like a blow, but before you could muster a retort, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You want this,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low purr. “I can feel it. You want me.”

Your breath caught, your defences wavering as his hand brushed against yours, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re wrong,” you managed, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Am I?” Loki asked, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Tell me, then. Look me in the eye and say you feel nothing. That you don’t think of my hands on you, my lips against yours. About me inside you.” How did he manage to get a purr like that in his voice.  “Say it, and I’ll leave you be.”

You opened your mouth, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they refused to come. The memory of his touch, his heat, burned too brightly in your mind. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “I thought so.”

You jerked back, your heart pounding. “This isn’t a game, Loki.”

“No,” he agreed, his voice softening, his gaze intense. “It’s not. But neither is it something to fear.”

“I don’t trust you,” you admitted, your voice trembling under the weight of your honesty.

“Trust me?” His finger grazed your cheek, his touch featherlight but searing. "You trusted me at the party. Trusted me with your body, with your pleasure." His voice was lower now, rich with seduction.

You sucked in a breath, trying to summon a rebuttal, but he pressed on. “Shall I remind you of the way you clung to me, of how my name fell from those lips of yours.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, and you averted your gaze, but Loki wasn’t about to let you off so easily. His fingers tipped your chin upward, forcing your eyes to meet his. “There’s no shame in desire, pet. Not when yours is something so delicious," he purred, his thumb lightly stroking your jawline. "Why hide from it?”

 Before you could formulate a response, his lips descended upon yours, brushing softly at first, testing, teasing. The touch was maddeningly light, and when he pulled back slightly, your shaky exhale betrayed you as you leant back into him, seeking more.  All you felt a  a smug, knowing curve of his mouth as it pulled into a predatory smile. "There it is," he murmured. "Sweet surrender."

His mouth claiming yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and the heat between your bodies threatened to burn through the layers of fabric that separated you. His other hand found its way into your hair, his fingers tangling as he angled your head to take more, to consume.

You didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly your back hit the bookshelf with a soft thud. Books shifted and fell forgotten to the floor as Loki pressed against you, his body a firm and unyielding presence. The kiss turned frantic, urgent, as though he were staking his claim, demanding a response that your body was all too eager to give. His hands roamed freely now-one sliding down to grip your hip, the other trailing along your spine in a slow, deliberate caress.

"And I suspect," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough, "that other parts of you taste even sweeter." His lips trailed from your mouth to the sensitive curve of your jaw, then down to the delicate line of your neck. The sensation was electric, each kiss leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his teeth grazed your skin, a soft gasp escaped you, and you felt his lips curl into a smile against your throat.

Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. Loki’s proximity, his touch, his voice-it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Your hands, seemingly of their own accord, found their way to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He hummed low in his throat, the sound vibrating under your palm. “Good girl,” he murmured, his words a decadent tease, his eyes locked on yours with a predatory gleam.

Before you could react, his hands moved, deliberate and confident, sliding down to the hem of your skirt. His fingers brushed against your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake as he slowly, almost reverently, pushed the fabric upward.

"Such a pretty thing," Loki murmured, his voice thick with desire as his hands caressed the soft skin of your legs. The soft cotton beneath his fingertips only emphasized the heat radiating from you. He eased down to his knees, his movements unhurried, his focus entirely on you. His gaze burned as he looked up, his hands gently urging your thighs apart, his thumbs brushing over sensitive skin, drawing a tremble from you that he savored. "I’ve been thinking about this," he admitted, his tone laced with hunger. "About how utterly exquisite you’d look surrendering to me like this, completely at my mercy."

The ache between your legs grew more insistent under his touch, every deliberate stroke of his hands sending waves of heat through you. You tried to stifle the soft gasp that escaped your lips, but Loki caught it, his smirk deepening as his fingers slid higher, tracing a teasing path along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Ah," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "you can’t hide this from me, darling. Your body is far more honest than you are darling."

Your breath hitched as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his lips soft but deliberate, trailing a path upward, leaving your skin tingling and your resolve crumbling as needy noise leaving you.  "Such eagerness," he purred, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "Do you feel it? This need simmering between us? You’re burning for me, aren’t you?"

His fingers traced patterns along the inside of your thighs, featherlight yet electrifying. You could feel the wet need pooling between your legs  "Do you know what it does to me, seeing you like this? Watching you try so hard to resist when we both know you’ve already given in?" He leant in, casually breathing in the scent of you like he was sampling wine. 

You shivered under his touch, every nerve in your body alight as his lips followed the path his fingers had drawn, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "You're going to give me what I want aren't you?" he purred, his breath ghosting over your skin. "When fall apart on my tongue," 

Your voice caught in your throat, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the fire his touch ignited within you. Loki’s smirk deepened, a dark, knowing curve of his lips. "Your going to make all those wonderful noises again like you did in the hallway aren't you?" he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs more firmly before his face drew closer to where that thin piece cotton that hid you away from him. Teasing he leant closer, his nose running along the fabric of your underwear. Loki’s nose bumping into your clit, letting out a strangled noise as your throat closed as pleasure shot up your spine. "I told you, I want to hear you." His tongue teased along the fabric, Loki finger ran up your leg curling around the sides of your underwear pulling them down. The cool air danced across your skin, heightening the sensitivity, you knew you were unable to hide your reaction to him now. You could feel his warm breath whispering against your wet folds, teasing you with promises of what was to come. "Look at that.” His tongue ran along the seam of you, tasting the nectar you were offering. “Is this what you need? My mouth on you." The words you spoke next were barely more than a whisper, but they carried the weight of your surrender. “Please..” His fingers, now free from the task of removing your underwear, gripped your thigh, lifting one leg to rest on his shoulder. “So polite now aren’t you pet?” His tongue slide against you again before he pushed it between fold mouth closed over you, the warmth and wetness enveloping your sensitive flesh.

“Arh-ah.” The noise came from in a desperate pant as you felt his tongue swirl over your clit like a wet snake.  His tongue, a masterful instrument, danced and swirled, coaxing sounds from you that you couldn't contain.

"Oh, God," you moaned, your hands grasping for something, anything, to hold onto as the world spun around. Loki's tongue probed deeper, his mouth sucking gently, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. "So sweet," his voice muffled against your skin. "A crime that I have deprived myself for this long..” His hands tilted your hips allowing him better access before you felt his tongue slide up inside you, both of you moaning loudly. He feasted on you now, his tongue reaching up higher into you as his nose pushing into the nub or nerves at the apex, building heat in your blood.

As his tongue slid back to your slit, you felt a rush of sensation, your body arching towards him, your hips bucking upwards. "Ahh...oh God, yes," your voice cracking as his tongue slid across your clit. You didn’t notice one had leaving you thigh, until you felt Loki’s finger slid up inside you, slick velvet walls clenching around them, trying to hold him in place as his tongue continued to dance across your clit.

"Mmm...so tight," he murmured, his voice vibrating against your core "I can feel you squeezing."

Your response was a series of desperate pants, your body straining towards him as his fingers slid in and out of you. "More...please, more," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire.

Loki's tongue slid back to your clit, his mouth closing over you once again suckling. His fingers curl inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out in pleasure. "Ahh...yes, right there," you moaned, your body shuddering with pleasure. His own moans merging with yours.

As his fingers continued to slide in and out of you, his tongue swirled around your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You felt yourself building towards that perfect end, your body straining towards him, your muscles tensing with anticipation.

"Oh...God, Loki, Loki I'm going to...," you stuttered, your voice trailing off as your body gave in to the pleasure your hands going from the shelf to grip at his hair.

Loki's response was a low, rumbling growl, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to push you over the edge, urging you forward. Your body answered his call, arching towards him, your muscles tensing as the orgasm built, and then, in a rush of heat and sensation. “Loki, Loki.. Loki fuck!” You were coming, your body shuddering violently as waves of ecstasy coursed through you, your voice rising in an unrestrained scream of his name, "Loki!" The sound of your climax seemed to echo in the dim library, blending with the rhythm of your ragged breaths. Your fingers tangled deeper in his dark hair, pulling him closer, as though you could tether yourself to him amidst the chaos of pleasure consuming you.

The world around you faded, melting into a haze of white noise and raw sensation, leaving only the heat of Loki's mouth and the overwhelming force of your release. Every nerve in your body seemed to hum with satisfaction, a symphony of euphoria that left you trembling, barely able to hold yourself upright against the unyielding shelf behind you. Slowly, Loki pulled back, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His hands slid down to your thighs, carefully guiding one leg off his shoulder as he stood to his full height. The sight of him-his disheveled hair, his lips glistening with evidence of your pleasure-sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth with an almost casual grace, his smirk curling into something devastatingly smug. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined," he purred, his voice thick with satisfaction and unmasked pride. "A feast worthy of a god."

You could only manage a shaky breath, your body still trembling in the aftermath of his ministrations. Loki leaned closer, one hand braced against the shelf beside your head, his proximity stealing what little composure you’d managed to regain. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble, "did that satisfy the craving?" "I- I..." You were still struggling to form words, your lips trembling as you tried to summon even the smallest shred of coherence. The lingering sensation of his touch, his mouth, his overwhelming presence left you raw, exposed, and utterly undone.

"Let me know," Loki said, his voice silk and steel, "when you decide to give me the chance to be what you need." His words hung in the air like a tantalizing promise, equal parts command and plea.

With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Loki bent down, tugging your skirt back into place. The brush of his knuckles against your skin sent an involuntary shiver racing up your spine. His hand found your discarded underwear, his fingers hooking around the delicate fabric as he lifted it, holding it out to you with an almost theatrical flourish. "But if you want more, if you want me," he murmured, his gaze locking with yours, "you need only ask."

Your shaking hand reached out, trembling as you took them from him, the contact sparking like a live wire. Loki inclined his head, his expression inscrutable, though his eyes gleamed with something dark and tantalizing-triumph, desire, or perhaps both. "Take all the time you need." he said softly, his voice a quiet yet firm promise. "But know this-I am not going anywhere."

He stepped back slowly, his movements measured, deliberate, his piercing gaze lingering on you as though he were memorizing every detail. The intensity of his presence was almost suffocating, and yet, as he finally turned and walked away, the sudden void left you bereft. The soft sound of his footsteps receded into the distance, but his words, his touch, his very essence lingered, etched into your skin and seared into your soul.

Your knees threatened to buckle as the reality of what had just transpired washed over you. The trembling in your hands betrayed the tumult raging inside, a maelstrom of longing, confusion, and undeniable need. Loki had made himself clear-he wasn’t going anywhere. And as you leaned against the bookshelf, still shaking from the force of your release and the storm he had stirred within you, you realized with startling clarity that neither were you.

[skyfallscotland]

I don’t know if this is weird, but I don’t have many friends and I am weird, admittedly so…yolo, but this is just a diary post really of all the things on my mind right now.

• The response on ink & mistletoe was really lovely and I’m especially grateful for it while I’m still having a rough time.

• I really wanted to write more this week because I wanted to finish off ink & mistletoe and Truth & Talon before Onyx Storm comes out, but I have a migraine again and I’ve just been so exhausted it’s not happening, which sucks.

• I did start a new book though—my first of 2025—Just For the Summer by Abby Jimenez. One of my resolutions for the new year is to read more actual books, so I’m off to a start at least. One thing that wigged me out though, it’s first person past-tense? What the fuck is that, why are we doing that? My brain does not like.

• Speaking of Onyx Storm, should I start posting my theories now as I write them, or just save it for one big post a few days before?

• I’m still incredibly bothered by not only the continuing trend of oh surprise another special edition with content not available to you! But also mostly the response from other people to it, mostly Americans, because no one else is saying “no one’s making you buy them all” or “having choices is a good thing” because uhh *checks notes* we don’t? We just pay twice the amount of money you do for made-in-a-sweatshop, falling apart crap with less features.

• Also, just as an aside so you all are ready, I’m fairly certain there’s a special edition of Iron Flame coming…probably with bonus content. Someone asked if she was going to do one because it just had plain edges and she replied with a winking face. I’m going to say in Feb/March, and with dragon edges to match OS & the original FW print run. Call me Cassandra, idk.

• My (undiagnosed, I guess) OCD is getting worse, so if anyone has any tips or tricks for that throw them my way because seeing a psychiatrist in this town is not only the price of a small car, but almost impossible. Everyone’s books are closed, because we’re all a fucking mess apparently idk. They did say they had someone who might find me and my eclectic collection of mental illnesses “interesting” though, so I at least get to send my referral through 🙃

• Lastly, I am once again calling for people to stop drowning. If you come to Australia, please understand how rips work. If you’re not a strong swimmer, don’t swim anywhere there aren’t lifeguards. You are not as safe as you think you are, I promise you. Almost every day there’s been another drowning death that’s been entirely preventable and it’s infuriating, half the time there are kids involved. Don’t put your kids at risk for fuck’s sake. View the below if you’re curious (or coming here). I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t spot them from front on, most people can’t unless they grew up on the beach, but again, if you can’t that’s why you shouldn’t swim anywhere help can’t get to you. 31 people drowned in four weeks is madness when there are over 600 patrolled beaches in this country. And people worry about the wildlife, good lord.

[cross-d-a]

Tales from My Bookstore:

*thump thump thump!!!*

Me: *turns around and sees a tiny girl no more than 2 feet tall carrying a picture book*

Girl’s mother: Honey, why are you running?

Little girl: I’m trying to read!

Girl’s mother: It’s not safe to run around here, baby. You might run into someone if you aren’t looking.

Little girl: I’m not- Well! It’s fine! I’m not running into anyone!

Girl’s mother: You haven’t run into anyone yet! *pauses* Why do you need to run to read?

Little girl: Because it’s HARD!!

[bibleofficial]

Hi, a mutual who shall remain nameless here. I just read your tags on on the inner Mongolian child post. And like. I dunno how to say this, but that took me by surprise, cause I was so sure you were older than me... and I am 33 years old lol. Guess I was wiping l wrong 🙈

no i totally get it omg i’ve got the Elderly Problems like woodhouse (specifically s1e2 11:55) ‘my knees’ but also my hips .. my back … my assbole but im older than u anyway <3 my child

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being mean & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy & dad

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.   

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.    

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.    

“What are you doin’? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.   

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed. 

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” the muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.    

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”   

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps.  

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.    

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.    

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.   

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” he mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.    

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.   

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.   

“Shit, just needed somethin’ to suck on, huh?” he pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.    

“So fuckin’ pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anythin’ daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.    

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.    

“Feels nice to have somethin’ in your mouth, doesn’t it?” he ogles her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.    

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.    

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.    

“Daddy, need your...” her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth.  

“Can’t really hear you, baby,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.    

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.   

"What did you say?" his lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.    

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.    

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.    

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.   

“Don't think you could take dad’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.    

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.    

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, sweetheart,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.    

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants.  

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whinin’ about wantin’ me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” there’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.   

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.    

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.   

“What was that?” the line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.    

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” he grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.   

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her.  

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” he rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he’ll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves. 

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel