#he was supposed to have had a ribbon around his neck with a bell

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ𓆝 𓆡⋆Seaweed Ribbons𓆝 𓆡⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: fluff :) pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

It was always the details of you that Billy noticed, the pieces swirling into your mosaic. He could practically see you on the cover of a storybook, a thick volume about a mermaid who fell in love with a human like a tragic fairy tale. Only Billy would seize the pen before it could even deign to write you an ending that was anything short of magical.

Your laugh rang like the brass bell shelled in the brick-and-mortar church at the center of the town square, a heavenly sound. While Billy had never been a particularly religious man, he found God with you. Over and over again, enough to make him into a believer. Every touch of your skin was a miracle, not suited for the likes of him. Pirates were superstitious, but hardly ever in a good way.

He hated that he was counted among their numbers- ruthless, reckless men roughened by a life of dishonesty. And yet, it was the only thing he knew how to do. Billy supposed he could have made a life as a sailor, but he knew at this point no man would hire him for such work. The grimace that came along with the name piracy gifted to him was the worst thing in the world, second only to any notion of losing you

You didn't seem to care about any of it, promising Billy that he was a good man, good as they come. Many a night he spent nearly buried in the sand with you sitting contently across his thighs, tail flickering lazily like the flame of a candle as you hugged him around the neck, pressing gentle kisses there.

He fingered your necklace, crafted from delicate seashells shiny as sunbeams on water. You made all your own jewelry, he knew, and he adored it just like he adored everything about you. Every new thing he learned only advanced your beauty, just when he wasn't sure his heart could take any more.

Billy let his hand settle on your lower back, drawing infinities into your skin warmed from the sun. The first time you'd come onto land with him he'd been worried you'd dry out, wither away like a leaf in the fall. There had to be some catch to this. Some catch to a man like him getting to hold a woman like you. But here you were, sand coating your drying tail like a second skin for the hundredth time since the first, head on his chest, fingers skirting the neckline of his shirt.

He always found himself playing with your hair, as long and silky as it was. You always did something pretty with it, whether it be a clasp of pearls or an intricate braid he couldn't wrap his head around. Today it was half tied back on each side with seaweed ribbons of emerald green, the tails lost in your strands.

You propped your chin up on his chest, letting your cheek lean to the side. One of your hands came up to trace along his stubbly jaw, a ring with a single pearl like a teardrop circled around one finger. He watched you fascinatedly like always, tangled in your net with no hope or want of escaping.

"I wish you could come down with me," you murmured, ringed finger finding the slope of his nose and drawing a line up and down. "I want to show you so many things."

He tilted his chin up, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "Me too, angel."

The pet name never failed to get a smile out of you, and he watched joyfully as it lightened you like a sunburst. "It's so beautiful, Billy. I love it, and I want you to love it too."

"If you love it, I would," Billy promised, sitting up and holding you firmly by the waist so you wouldn't shift off of him with the motion.

You moved so you were sitting sideways between his spread legs, snuggling into his chest. "What do you love about the surface? I think I've told you everything I love about the water."

He hummed, getting lost in thoughts like a tangled ball of yarn. Billy never got tired of hearing about what you loved. You had such a wide-eyed, beautiful vision of the world, one that he could only wish to imitate. He wished he was a more eloquent man so he could pick out the things of the surface he thought you'd like and craft them into poetry only fit for your eyes.

"I..." his mind went blank. Billy was hardly capable of a thought that didn't pertain to how beautiful you were in your presence. "I like the stars, I s'pose. And flowers."

Your eyes brightened, and he felt a prick of pride for having said something that made them that way. "I like those too."

"Yeah?" Billy would pick every flower that sprouted from the earth, lasso each star and haul them from the sky to lay at your tail if it would make you smile. "I'll bring you some flowers next time, pretty."

"Really?" You reached up, kissing his cheek. Your lips left a burning spot, and he melted. You were a treasure no X on a map could ever amount to.

"'Course, baby." Billy stroked your back, an ocean of softened skin smoothed by saltwater. "It's only right a man does that for his sweetheart."

You giggled in delight, a babbling brook. "I want to bring you something pretty too."

"You bring yourself, don'tcha?"

"Billy."

He chuckled, lips finding your hair. A human would have to swallow stardust to glow as bright as you. "You're my girl. Ain't nothin' better than seein' my girl."

You gave him a fond look, wiggling a little in his arms. "I want to show you my treasures."

"Oh, baby I'd be honored to see your treasures." Billy reached up, catching your lips in a gentle kiss. You existed in a world of beautiful things, just how you deserved.

In words you'd described to him of the splendor of the sea, the way merpeople valued all that was good and lovely. Intricate carvings of pearl depicting wars of history, victory abound. Insides of clamshells ranging from the size of the palm of your hand to entire walls painted with artist's depictions of royalty. Seemingly ordinary rocks split down the middle, revealing crystallite insides. He couldn't have dreamt it up.

But as far as he was concerned, you were the most ethereal thing created by the world of mermaids.

You were pleased by his answer, rewarding him with warm kisses peppered to his cheeks. Billy could have sworn there was sugar rather than blood on your insides, given how cripplingly sweet you were.

He'd succumb to your spell every time.

Had Billy searched the catacombs of the earth like a man possessed, he never would have found what you were showing him right now.

To say he'd been surprised when you had announced you were taking him to your treasure grove had been an understatement. But the next thing he knew, he was holding onto you as you swam, head above water, faster than he knew was physically possible.

An island had been your destination, one swallowed by the sea, nearly. The greenery was lush and full, but you led him to the gaping mouth of a cavern, studded with crystals of every fathomable color. He'd been in awe, convinced your treasures were a place. But deeper into the hallowed halls of your special spot, he saw the reason you'd brought him.

It was very nearly a temple, held by columns of stone crawling with moss, the sea kissing the base a shallow pool with water lilies floating leisurely. Billy's eyes widened as he took it in. It was a relic, a forgotten wonder of the world. And you had found it, of course you'd found it.

Vines twirled the arches like a strand of hair around a finger, light seeping in through the cracks of the ceiling. The walls were lightened with faded color, the salt air chipping away at paint. He turned to you, heaving himself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool. His shirt and pants were clinging to him, boots abandoned at shore. "What is this place?"

"It's my treasure chest," you said simply, arms folded on his knees, chin atop. "Nobody know about it, really. So I keep the things I find in here."

"The things you find?" Upon his question, you turned your head to the side, and he followed your gaze.

There, on the edge of the cavern, a collection of items laid lined up like soldiers on the stony surface. He shuffled over to examine them closely. Your collection ranged from chipped teacups to strings of pearls. There were shells of an inexhaustible variety, starfish and scales all scattered in the mix. But what struck him was the sheer amount of human things.

Pale figurines of nude women, an intricate silver hand mirror. A tube of lipstick, the lid missing, a bottle of perfume likely only filled with ocean now. A brooch the color of the sky on a sunny day, a silhouette stone faced depicted. There was a book with stiff looking pages at the center of it all, embossed with gold in a language Billy didn't know.

He turned to you, awe clouding his senses. "You found all of this?"

A shy little smile crept up your lips. "My treasures."

"Angel." Billy reached down, lifting you under your arms to come sit on his lap, the fins of your tail dipping into the water still. He pressed three kisses to your face; your cheek, nose, and mouth. You were too good for this world, too bright and glimmering for anyone to deserve.

Today your hair was loose, miniscule braids interwoven between strands. It wasn't uncommon for him to find broken pieces of seashell tangled in between, and even in the muted light of the cavern, they shone like bits of sunshine, the light catching them just right. Billy tucked your hair behind your ear, catching the pearls hanging from them, dripping with ocean. "It's beautiful. You're a sweetheart for showin' me."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, breasts flattening against his chest. "You like it?"

"It's like you're showin' me a piece of your heart," he said, relishing in the sparkle of your eyes. He shifted to the side, facing your collection again. "Will you tell me 'bout 'em?"

Billy could practically feel the excitement bubbling up inside you as you began to explain the origins of each find, voice a melody in his ear. He listened, savoring every detail to imprint on his memory. If his identity became a man in love with you, he'd die happier than most.

Your love enchanted him, consumed him like the impossibly high waves of a typhoon, swirling and tossing him back and forth against the walls of your heart. He was drowning in it all, engulfed in every salty wave that pulled him under.

Only here he would never come up for air.

[cowboydisaster]

Hi again! Thought of another one….

Arthur finds out that reader has a gift for him for Christmas but he hasn’t gotten them anything. So he has to scramble to think of a gift. He ends up making a handful of drawings of reader including some with their beloved horse. And of course reader is over the moon about it

This one isn’t too clever so if you’re not feelin’ it, it’s ok.

🎄❤️

* ˚ ✦ Icebreak * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 720 a/n: Just a cute lil' drabble. Merry Christmas' eve! Thank you for another really cute prompt!!

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: ONE day 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

Arthur distinctly remembers the conversation in which you’d both agreed that you wouldn’t be exchanging gifts this year. Alarm bells are going off in his head. Was he supposed to get you a gift anyway? Should he have ignored that conversation entirely? Been a gentleman and got you something nice? Arthur swallows thickly. 

Despite the conversation, Arthur had just found out that you have a gift for him. Sadie has a loud mouth, especially when she’s drunk, and for once, Arthur is grateful for it. At least he has a little time to think of something. He pulls his pocket watch out, glancing at the time. 6:27 PM. A little time. 

In a rush, Arthur jogs into his tent, pulling his journal out of his satchel and placing it on the bed. Beside it, he tosses down a piece of charcoal and a pencil. The camp isn’t in a great financial situation; hence the agreement of no presents. So, he reckons if he can’t buy you something, he’ll just have to make you something. 

Arthur begins drawing, and after a while, the sun fades away, forcing him to switch to lantern light. The side of his hand is caked in lead as he runs the pencil over the pages, capturing the curves of your body, the shine of your smile. He draws his favorite memories of you. The day he gifted you your mare, Sugar. The day you kissed him for the first time. The day he’d brought you to camp. 

Arthur stays up far too late, sketching a handful of pictures of you, taking his time to capture you in the utmost detail. His hand flicks perfectly, catching the waves in your hair, the line of your jaw. Arthur draws you with your mare, with his gelding, with him. 

The group of drawings encapsulate the things that you love the most, and the memories that you hold dear. After finishing half a dozen good drawings, Arthur inspects them, fixing little mistakes, and adding little notes about his love for you. When he’s finished, he takes some old baling twine, tying a little bow around the pages, fixing them until they’re all wrapped up perfectly.

He knows you deserve better, a bracelet of silver or gold. A necklace embedded with gemstones, or a new dress. Those are the things you would have been gifted back in the city. He sighs, looking down at his little homemade gift, knowing that it will just have to do.

— — —

“Alright,” Arthur whispers, pulling out the ribbon-wrapped sketches, “Go on n’ open ‘em.” 

Your eyes open slowly, drifting to the white pages that Arthur is extending out to you. 

Hesitantly, you take them, eyes searching up to Arthur’s for reassurance. He nods, and you smile, pulling the twine ribbon, letting it spiral to the floor. You flip the first paper, recognizing it as being ripped out from Arthur’s journal, and you gasp. 

It’s a beautiful sketch, one of you sitting up in bed, hair draped down your back, a graceful smile on your lips. Even through paper and pencil, Arthur has managed to capture the sparkle in your eyes, the optimism in your countenance. Next to the drawing is a small note. 

Early mornings with my lady.

Your heart warms, and you flip to the next one. You find a sketch of you, laying on the back of your beloved mare, arms wrapped around her neck. The drawings are stunning. Works of art that should be posted in a gallery in Saint Denis, and he’s giving them to you. You know how private Arthur is with his journal, and you’re honored.  

“You like ‘em?” Arthur asks, nervous of your silence as you continue to look through. Tears pool in your eyes as you look up to him, holding up some of the precious gifts. 

“You drew me. Arthur,  I love them.” Sincerity is thick in your voice, and Arthur wipes a tear away from your cheek. 

“Didn’t wanna make you cry.” He jokes. You huff. 

“They’re so beautiful, so meaningful. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not in my whole life— not before you.” You whisper. 

Arthur’s arms wrap around you then, pulling you into his chest, shushing away your sniffles. 

“They’re perfect, Arthur.” You murmur against him. He smiles. 

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445

[aerialsquid]

FFXIV Write Day 12: Quarry

"How in the *world* did you manage to do this, dear doll?"

Martyn held up his four fingered hand with the ashamed demeanor of a child showing how badly he'd butchered a DIY haircut. Dollmaker fussed over the excision, running its fingertip across the place where Martyn had sealed off his own aether. 

"Well, you've heard of blue magic, yes?"

"No, Never."

"Oh." The creature lived in the sewer tunnels, of course it wouldn't have. "Uh. Short version, it's a school that prioritizes learning spells by having them cast on you by–" By monsters. "By others. And then replicating the technique."

"Hm. How strange. I'm flattered you think of me outside of our games, but this is a bit much..." Dollmaker had him lay his hand in its own large, obsidian palm. A stroke of its digits and the finger joint was joined back to Martyn's hand as seamlesly as if it had never left. Martyn squinted, trying to memorize the technique, but the movement was too quick.

Ah, well. He'd find a reason to be back down here eventually, Martyn supposed. At least

"200 years and you mortals still find ways to surprise me," Dollmaker was muttering.

"That's how long you've been down here?"

"Well, not down here, but…well, since I came over from the old country, haha."

Ah. The void. Martyn coughed. "Well, you look very uh. Solidly built, for your age." What kind of a compliment did you give a voidsent?

"Oh, I was much smaller then. There was this alchemist with a great deal of ambition but not much sense, thought to expedite his dark work with a few extra sets of hands. He pulled me through a pinprick hole between worlds, bound me with a contract before I even had time to get my bearings. To serve him indefinitely, in exchange for what little aether he chose to give me, to be thrown back to the void whenever he ran out of use for me."

Sounded like something Royce would come up with. 

A soft, sinister chuckle went through Dollmaker's body.

"Of course, this was about half a bell before the Sultansworn burst his door down. I heard they executed him for crimes against the throne, in the end. Of course, I fled into the cistern the moment my master was distracted. They hunted me for ages through the tunnels - they found the others, but they never found little me." Its falsetto voice was tinged with nostalgia, as its fingers ran tenderly over and over Martyn's palm. "He'd not bound me to protect him, after all, and if he couldn't speak he couldn't give orders. And then he was dead. And here I was, a free agent in paradise."

"Paradise?"

The mask's eyes lifted to meet Martyn's.Below it, the mouth that spanned half the length of Dollmaker's neck parted its lips slightly. Dollmaker's narrow tongue flicked out across the rim. "Compared to the eternal dusk of the void, yes. Compared to the hunger. In the void you hunger eternal. You consume those around you and make their aether a part of you, or you are consumed and lose yourself in the swirling mass of souls inside your predator's belly. There are no pretty lace ruffles, no silk ribbons, no singing bird mammets. There is no one to appreciate such beauties either. The hunger is always on your mind - the hunger and the fear."

Dollmaker's angular fingers curled around Martyn's hand, until their sharp shapes reminded Martyn of a cage. Martyn found his breath slowing of its own accord, trapping him in place even without Dollmaker's manipulation.

"But on this side of the veil there is aether aplenty, life flourishing, living and dying in bright sunlight beauty. Even in the sewers I could gorge myself to fullness, on the aether of rats and lichen, on the scraps that fell down to me from the city above. The bounty of your world felt endless. And when I finally felt that beautiful sensation of *satiation*, I began to truly think in a way I had not thought in endless centuries. That is when I began to make contracts of my own - first for aether, then for safety, then for luxuries. Beautiful trinkets, pretty dolls, fine company…" 

Dollmaker shook its head. The gesture rippled through its elongated body, back to shoulders to spine to the end of its tail, throwing off the veil of reverie.

"You know, you ask a lot of questions, doll."

"Martyn." The word was weak from his lips, but it felt as if it were a shield. As if being someone noteworthy would save him.

For the first time, Dollmaker seemed to notice his fright. It released his hand and stepped back, neck hunching down as if to make itself smaller. Less threatening. "Ah. Right. I don't usually…right, right. Apologies, I've been rambling. You'll be wanting to go now?"

"Yes, quite. Busy day, you know. Thank you for the–" Martyn waved his completed hand again, flexing the pinkie demonstratively.

"No trouble, no trouble. Feel free to bring it back if it's still giving you trouble. I'll just be down here as usual. Enjoy your day. Unless you're of a mind to-"

But Martyn was already rushing out of the tunnels before Dollmaker could suggest anything else Martyn might do, long ahead of the sound of a soft, disappointed sigh.

[kueble]

Naughty Kitty

This is the next part of my Kitten Jaskier au.

Explicit. Warnings: Pet play, Dom/sub undertones, subspace, collars, anal plug, anal sex, oral sex, rough sex, dirty talk. 2,200 words

Geralt/Jaskier

---

Jaskier can already feel himself slipping into his kitten space, but he pushes it off as much as he can. Geralt doesn't like when he goes into subspace on his own, and now he   realizes how dangerous it was when he did so in the past.  Thankfully he has a great partner now, and Geralt takes such good care of him.   Tonight is supposed to be a little present to show him how much Jaskier adores him, though it's going to be fun for him, too.

He fixes his headband before leaping off the bed, landing on all fours like a proper cat should.  He shakes his hips, moving his tail plug around, and the soft faux fur slides smoothly over the back of his legs.  Satisfied that everything is in place, he slowly makes his way to their front door, tail swinging behind him.  Geralt should be home soon, but he still has time to get in position.

Jaskier stops a few feet back from the front door, wanting to be the only thing Geralt sees when he opens it.   He kneels up, sitting on his heels before balling up his fists and holding them up in front of his chests.  It's his classic paws up pose, and one of Geralt's favorites.  He shivers, already anticipating his partner's reaction when he gets home.

It doesn't take a mirror to know he looks damn good right now.  Jaskier is naked except for his kitten gear.  His headband is new - a holiday gift to himself - and though it's more playful than his usual style, he knows it looks good.  The soft kitten ears are bright red with white inside, and the tail is  candy cane striped to match.  He should feel ridiculous, but he just feels pretty and festive instead.

The impromptu collar he made feels heavy like a brand around his neck, and he knows he will have to bring up buying something permanent together soon.  He never feels like anything but Geralt's when they're playing like this, but a constant reminder of ownership would make things even hotter.  He forces himself to open his eyes, not remembering when he had closed them.  He's going under faster than anticipated, but it's easy knowing Geralt will be home any minute now.

Jaskier is buzzing with anticipation by the time the door swings open.  He looks up at Geralt through his long lashes, holding back a smirk when his lover's eyes go wide and he tosses his keys and coat on the floor in his rush to slam the door behind him.  Jaskier is a good kitten, not moving even a little while Geralt takes him in.

"What a nice surprise," Geralt finally says, shaking his head as if to clear it.  And no, that simply won't do.  That's not what tonight is about.  Jaskier meows loudly and tilts his head back to show off the red ribbon tied carefully around his neck.

His heartbeat picks up as Geralt's thick fingers caress his neck, his thumb brushing over Jaskier's pulse point before lifting the tag attached to the make-shift collar.  The little silver jingle bell chimes, and Jaskier has to hold in a laugh.  It's louder than any kitten-themed bell he's worn before.  Perhaps he should have tested that out, but it's not like fucking with the sound of jingle bells in his ears will make it any less fun.

"Naughty," Geralt reads, drawing out the word.  "Is that right?  I came home to a naughty kitty?"  He places two fingers against Jaskier's lips, easily pressing them inside with no resistance.  Jaskier sighs, the heavy press of Geralt's fingers on his tongue grounding him.  Fuck, he didn’t realized how much he needed this.

Jaskier feels his mind slowing down, like gears getting coated with honey, and he blinks up at Geralt slowly.  Geralt stares back at him, a warm look on his face, and Jaskier feels so fucking safe he could cry.  He greedily sucks on Geralt's fingers, not bothering to be subtle about what he actually wants.  Geralt lets him keep at it until he's drooling, spit slowly sliding down his chin as his eyes glaze over.

"You need more to keep that mouth busy, don't you?" Geralt asks, a growl on the edge of his voice.  Jaskier can't speak, not like this, but he starts humming in his version of a purr, knowing Geralt will get the hint.  "Such a messy kitty," he adds, clicking his tongue as he pulls his fingers back.  Jaskier falls forward slightly, chasing the feeling of being so full.  But then he realizes he's supposed to be good, - and oh how he wants to be good - so he sits back on his heels and waits for instructions.

It shifts the plug in his ass, and Jaskier clenches around it, whining as sparks shoot through him.  Geralt maintains eye contact, wetting his lips as he unzips his trousers and shoves them down just far enough to get himself out.  It feels like Jaskier's heart is going to beat right out of his chest as he watches his lover stroke himself, slowly hardening under his own touch.  Jaskier longs to be the one doing that, but his paws are useless when he's like this.  Instead, he sits there, ever so good, until Geralt taps him on the mouth gently.

"That's it, open up for me sweetheart," Geralt murmurs as he moves forward.  He holds the head of his cock just out of reach, and Jaskier is practically gagging for it.  He wants to move, wants to swallow him down, but he can do this.   He can be good.  "So perfect for me," Geralt whispers, and Jaskier's heart soars.

And then he moves forward, slowly feeding Jaskier his cock.  Jaskier's whole world dissolves down to salt and musk and the heavy weight of Geralt's prick on his tongue.  Still, he doesn't move, just lets Geralt buck his hips, using him for his own pleasure.  A familiar peace falls over him, and he finally gives in completely, letting his kitten space take over.

It's so easy to let go, to lose himself in the feeling of Geralt fucking his face.  He's floating, body buzzing as Geralt thrusts in and out of him.  His own cock throbs lightly, but it’s more of an afterthought.  This is for Geralt, not him.

His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he manages to keep them open, manages to stare up at Geralt as he's used to brilliantly.  Shaking his hips, he moves his fluffy tail around behind him, and Geralt slams into him roughly a few more times before pulling out.  He rubs the wet head of his cock over Jaskier's lower lip, pre-come making a mess of him, and Jaskier hums in happiness.

"You didn't get all prettied up for me to spill in this lovely mouth of yours, did you?" Geralt asks, and Jaskier tilts his head, rubbing against his palm.  He shimmies his hips again, and Geralt takes notice this time.  "Let's get you to the bedroom," he says, but Jaskier hisses.  He moves forward, rubbing his forehead against Geralt's calf, trying to make him realize what he wants, what he needs.

Geralt drops to his knees and studies him, his golden-flecked eyes roaming over Jaskier's face.  Ever the helpful pet, Jaskier tilts his head and jingles the bell on his collar.  With a chuckle, Geralt seems to put the pieces together.  "You're naughty tonight.  Nice kittens get fucked in a bed.  You want me to take you right here?  Fuck you three feet from the door like a slut in heat?"

A moan rips out of him, and Jaskier sways, nearly falling into Geralt.   Somehow, he's able to stay upright, even though it feels like his limbs have gone limp.  He meows, and Geralt cups his cheek, letting him rub against his warm palm again.  His other hand comes up and he scratches Jaskier behind his headband, giving him some ear scritches.

"Tail up, then."

Jaskier shudders and scurries to obey, spinning around and practically throwing himself down on the floor.  He presses his forehead against the carpet and arches his back, shoving his ass up in the air.  Geralt's large hands move over his back, soothing him before cupping his ass.  There's a pause, and Jaskier almost whines again, desperate for attention, but then Geralt taps on the plug in his ass and he howls as fire dances up his spine.

Geralt teases him, pressing a thumb against his stretched rim, tracing where his body swallows up the plug.  His tail hangs over his hip, the soft fur adding to the overwhelming amount of sensations flowing over him.  He doesn't go easy, alternating between tapping the blunt base of the plug and tugging on Jaskier's tail to make him whimper.  He taunts him, working the toy halfway out before shoving it back inside.

By the time he deems Jaskier ready, he's about to melt into the floor beneath him.  There's a stinging in his knees, and some part of him knows he'll have rug burn after this, but his mind is too far gone to care.  He pushes back, looking for more, and Geralt punishes him for it with a sharp slap on his ass.  He cries out and presses his head deeper into the carpet, letting the sting of the hit wash over him.

Just when he thinks he can't feel anything more than he already does, Geralt pulls the toy out of him, dragging a broken moan from his chest.  He hears it thud on the carpet next to him but is too far gone to focus on it.  Geralt says something, but the words don't make sense.  He feels sluggish, like he's floating and falling at the same time, and he waits for Geralt to repeat himself.

"More lube?" he finally hears, not knowing how many times his owner has had to repeat himself.  He hisses and shoves his hips back, hoping Geralt understands him.  He opened himself up for what seems like hours earlier, and he wants to feel his lover tonight.  Geralt normally pampers him, spending way too long stretching him, and he's more than open enough to take him like he is.  "Right, naughty," Geralt murmurs, and Jaskier hears the rustle of fabric behind him.

When he moves in again, it's clear Geralt has shoved his trousers down to his knees and his bare thighs hit the back of Jaskier's.  He whines and pushes back, but Geralt whispers something soothing and runs a hand down his spine a few times, grounding him.  As inpatient as he is for this, Jaskier settles himself somehow and holds still.

Only then does Geralt rub the leaking head of his dick against Jaskier's slicked up hole.  He wants to buck back, wants to bury his owner in his ass, but he waits for it like the good boy that he is.  After a moment of teasing, Geralt pushes past his rim, slowly sinking inside of him.  It's hard to think, hard to remember how to breathe, but Jaskier somehow manages both as he's filled so perfectly.

His face is wet, and he realizes he's drooling on the carpet.  With a whine, he tries to pick up his head, but that's the moment Geralt starts to fuck him.  He starts in short, rough thrusts, and Jaskier howls as he quickly gets used to the rhythm.  He feels wonderful, like he's so fucking full, and it's all he can do to hold his hips up as Geralt starts to drill into him.

And then there are no thoughts, only feelings.

Geralt fucks him harshly, nails digging into his hips and grunting as they move together.  Gone is his gentle lover, and in his place is a powerful beast of a man, working him over in the best way possible.  It's more than Jaskier had ever hoped for.  He cries into the carpet as his legs start to shake, hoping he can hold this position as long as his owner needs him to.  The bright sound of the noise bell attached to his collar fills the air, jostled with every slam of Geralt’s body into his.

He's an absolute mess, all drool and tears and whines as Geralt plows into him.  It's so fucking perfect he can hardly stand it.  His own neglected cock hangs ignored and heavy between his thighs, no doubt dripping pre-come all over the floor.  He has a brief flash of being forced to lick it up later, and it's enough to make him shoot off, coming with a shocked howl.

His legs finally give out, but Geralt holds him up, his thrusts stuttering as he chases his own release.  Jaskier's body goes limp, but his mind is blank, not a single thought floating in his normally busy head.

And then Geralt finishes, shouting as he fills Jaskier with hot bursts of come.  it feels like he's flooding him with it, like his belly will be heavy and full by the time he's done, and Jaskier whines at how perfect it feels.  There are lips on his skin, kisses shakily pressed between his shoulder blades, but Jaskier is too far under to respond.  He keeps humming, his mind pleasantly free of any weighty thoughts.

"My perfect naughty kitten," Geralt praises him softly, and Jaskier preens as the words flow over him.  

Nothing feels as amazing as being a good boy.

---

NSFW tags: @tothedesert @mayastormborn  @allinthebones @selectivegeekwithstandards @trickstermoose67 @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @larawrmonster @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @gryffinqueen-blog @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @lokibus @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @feral-jaskier @hayleynzlive @answrs @jaskierswolf @holymotherwolf  @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @singerin @flawney @viking1919

If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!

[fanartandfanfiction]

I wrote another chapter featuring my animagus character

Aesop Sharp was finishing up some work in his classroom when Garreth Weasley came running in. 

“Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?” 

Garreth looked anxious. “Maybe. It’s Sophia. I can’t find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“Ok, well, Professor Black confiscated a bunch of stuff from me and Sophia was mad about it so she was going to try to get it back. That was this morning.”

“Am I correct in assuming she was doing this as a cat?”

“Probably. I don’t know. But I don’t know what else to do, and you and Prewett are the only ones who know. Prewett is asking around but we’ve had no luck so far.”

“Once we recover Sophia, we’re all going to be having a long conversation.” Sharp glared. 

Sophia hated the headmaster. She was muggleborn, trash in his eyes, and he had no problems expressing that. Garreth had a box of various ingredients he’d gathered, and Sophia was walking with him back to the Gryffindor common room when Professor Black stopped them. He’d said Garreth got into enough mischief as it was, he didn’t need to lower his reputation by dating her and messing around with potions. He confiscated the box and Sophia was furious. 

“I’m getting those back.” Sophia said quietly. 

“It’s fine, Soph. I can get more, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’ll be back later.” She dashed into a nearby room and came out in her cat form, a fluffy white persian. She ran down the hall towards Professor Black, who was headed back to his office. She waited for the door to swing open and she dove inside. 

“What are you doing here? Go on, shoo.” Black had tried to boot her out, but it was clear she wasn’t going, he sighed. “Too many damn cats in this castle.” He grumbled as he carried the box up the stairs. He set the box on his desk and looked at her. “Well you’re not your average castle cat, are you?” He squatted down and stroked her head. With a small gasp, he grinned. “You’re a persian! Rare and expensive. The perfect pet for someone with such refined taste as myself.” He scooped her up and she let out a yowl of protest. “Oh hush now. I’ll set up a space for you right here in my office so everyone can see you when they come in!”

Sophia was humiliated. He’d tied a green ribbon in a big bow around her neck. At least he’d conjured her a fluffy cat bed, since she was clearly trapped for a while. 

“I think we should go for a walk so that everyone can see my magnificent new pet.” He grinned. Such a pompous asshole. He’d conjured a collar with a little bell (in case the bow wasn’t embarrassing enough) and a leash. She’d tried digging her claws into the ground in protest, but there was no purchase on the hardwood floor. And now she was trotting through the halls on a leash.

“Excuse me, have you seen a cat?” Luckily she had excellent hearing in her cat form and heard Leander’s voice. 

“Are you kidding? This castle is full of cats.” A voice replied.

“No, this is a big fluffy white one with a scrunched up face.”

“Haven’t seen it.”

She let out a loud meow and yanked the leash in Prewett’s direction. Luckily he heard her and looked up. She saw him suppress a laugh and she glared at him. 

“Excuse me, headmaster!”

“What is it, Mr. Prewett?”

“That’s a lovely cat, where did you get her?”

“I bought her from a breeder, very expensive you know. Cats of this quality are rare.”

His face fell. “Oh. You see, I’m looking for a cat just like that, Garreth has one and she ran out.”

“Well I can assure you this isn’t your cat. I recently purchased Clarice.”

“MEOOOOOW!” She let out a loud wail in Prewett’s direction. 

“Is it alright if I pet her?”

“I suppose so.” Black responded. Prewett squatted down and looked into her eyes. She widened them and placed her paw on his hand. 

“Shit.” He said quietly. 

“What was that, Mr. Prewett?”

“Oh, I asked if she could sit. I didn’t know if she was trained.”

“I’m sure she’ll be trained soon enough, she’s very intelligent. Nearly opened the door to my office by herself.”

“I bet she did.” Prewett gave her head a reassuring pat. “Well, thank you for letting me pet her, goodbye headmaster.”

She let out a wail as he walked away and he turned back and raised his eyebrows at her.

“Come along, Clarice. Let’s show you off.”

Prewett took off at a run towards the dungeons as soon as Black was out of sight. He saw Garreth speaking with Professor Sharp and ran into the classroom. “Black has her.”

“Damn, she got caught?” Garreth asked. 

“Well, kind of.”

Aesop was silently cursing Sophia as he searched for Black. He had no idea how he was going to get her away from him. 

He finally saw Black up ahead with Sophia on a leash. 

“Headmaster? A word?” 

Sophia looked up and immediately tried to rush towards him, choking at the end of her leash. “Calm down, Clarice, that’s no way for a lady to behave.” Black chastised her. “What can I do for you, Aesop? I’m just taking my new cat for a walk. She cost me a pretty penny, but she was worth it. Persians are incredibly rare, you know.”

“Oh I know, I have one myself. They have a penchant for getting into trouble.” He glared down at her.

“I’m sure Clarice is different, she comes from one of the most exclusive breeders in London.” Boy, the man could lie out his ass.

“I see. Would you mind if I held her? I’ve such a soft spot for cats.”

“I suppose.” Sophia was stretching her leash as far as possible to reach him. He picked her up and she scrambled up onto his shoulder and dug her claws in.

“Ow.” He said quietly. She readjusted, but still clung to him.

“She must sense that you’re a cat person! She seems quite fond of you.”

Sophia gave a purr in response and nuzzled her head against him, and he glared. “Yes, she’s a sweet little kitty, isn’t she?” Sharp kissed the top of her head, making her wrinkle her nose, until she heard him whisper “When I let you go, attack him and make a run for it.” He patted her head once more. “Well, I suppose I’ll return her to you, otherwise I’d stay here all day petting her.” Professor Sharp set her down and she charged at Professor Black with a screeching yowl. He shrieked as she sunk her claws and teeth into his leg. He attempted to shake her off but she shredded the legs of his trousers and continued biting. 

“Get OFF!” He kicked her with his other foot and sent her sprawling. He’d kicked her so hard she was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib. She wasted no time getting up and making a run for it. 

“Headmaster, are you alright?!” Aesop asked. 

“NO! I was just mauled by that wild creature!” 

“Here, I have a wiggenweld with me. Take it, but I’d still recommend going to the infirmary. Cats can carry rabies, you know.”

Black gulped down the potion and wiped his mouth. “Find the cat. I don’t care what you do with it, just don’t let it back in this school.”

“Yes sir. I’ll see if I can locate her.”

When he made it back to his classroom, Sophia was there clutching her side and groaning. Garreth and Leander were supporting her weight. 

“Up on the table. Let me see.” They helped her up onto a nearby table and she lifted her shirt. Prewett turned tomato red and looked away. 

“He easily fractured some ribs. And I imagine transforming with an injury worsened it. Hang on.” He walked over to his shelf of potions he kept stocked. He was fuming. There was no reason for Black to have kicked her that hard. He heard the crack. He brought back several vials and set them on the table. “Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know.” She said through tears.

“You’re going to have to try, I don’t want to risk you choking on a potion.”

“It’s alright, Sophia, we’ll help you. Come on prewett, hold onto her other side.” She let out a wail of pain as they sat her up.  “You’ll be ok. You’re going to be ok.” Garreth was whispering quietly to her and stroking her hair. Prewett looked unsure of what to do so he grabbed her hand. 

“Just give my hand a squeeze when it hurts, alright? OW! OW!”

“Alright, I’ve got you a wiggenweld, a pain draught, and a skele-gro. Take the wiggenweld and pain draught first.”

She downed them and looked slightly less miserable. “This one is going to be absolutely disgusting, but you need it to heal your ribs.” He handed her the skele-gro and she uncorked it and made a face. “I know. But you need to drink it.” She downed it as quickly as she could and tried to repress a gag. Garreth was stroking her back and Prewett was still holding onto her hand. 

“You’ll need to be still for a bit while the potion works. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Prewett, you’re more than welcome to stay, but it’ll be a few hours.”

“You can go, Prewett. I’ll stay with her.” Garreth said.

“Alright. I’m glad you’re ok, Sophia.” He gave her hand one last squeeze and left. 

“Hey Garreth?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s chilly down here, can you go get my favorite sweater?”

“You mean MY sweater?” He grinned. “Of course. Be right back.”

As soon as he was out of the room, tears started streaming down her face. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure what you’re apologizing to me for.”

“You had to come rescue me because I did something stupid.”

“I’m your professor. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

She chuckled. “I think chasing down your animagus student who’s trapped with a pretentious snob is a bit out of your job description. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. I appreciate it.” She reached up and felt the collar. “Can you help me get this off? And the stupid bow?”

Sharp smirked as he helped her remove the collar. “At least I didn’t put a bow on you.” 

“You totally would have.” She smirked in response. “Only the best for your little girl.” She teased.

“Oh, shut it. That was equally embarrassing for both of us.”

“To be fair, you were really nice to me as a cat.”

“Thank you for not tearing me to shreds like you did Black.” He smiled. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but I also was NOT about to sleep in your bed. It’s a good thing Garreth arrived when he did.”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t know it was me.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “By the way, attacking Black was the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done.”

“You probably shouldn’t tell me that. He’s your headmaster and my employer.”

“Come on, it’s after hours, there’s no one else here. He was shrieking like a little girl. You have to admit it was funny.”

Sharp relented and let out a snort of laughter. “It was hysterical, watching him jump around on one foot and screaming, after he’d just bragged about how well behaved you were.”

Sophia stifled a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“It’s the pain draught. You may rest if you like.” 

He watched her sort of curl on her side and she scrunched up her nose as it itched her. He could absolutely see why her animagus was a persian cat. 

“‘Alright, Sharp said you have to stay with us while you finish recovering.” Garreth packed her back in her cat form while she dozed. He opened his dorm room and Prewett looked up.

 “We have a cat again?”

“For now. Just until she finishes recovering.” He set her down on his bed and stretched. 

“I know it’s Sophia, but she’s such a cute cat.” Prewett smiled. 

“Yeah, it’s probably the only time she’s not bickering with you.” Garreth crawled into his bed and pulled Sophia over to him.

“Is it weird that your girlfriend is a cat?”

“Only a little. I mean, most of the time, she’s not a cat.” He yawned and stretched again. “Thanks for helping me find her.”

“No problem. Do you think she’ll let me pet her while she’s a cat? Is that weird? Like, I know she’s Sophia but she’s so cute.”

“This is the only circumstance in which I will say, yes Prewett, you may pet my girlfriend.”

Find the rest of the story here:

[twistedisciple]

"What the hell is this?"

A bright, floral-scented cathedral. Bells. Pastel blue ribbons. Petals strewn across a red runner. The room was far too light for the likes of someone like Griss, and he pulls at the buttoned front of his own tuxedo - tailored into form-fitting and white - like it's some grisly leftovers from the bog from a couple fights back. He glances up to find his allies all dressed similarly, but Marianne - now hardly more than a ball of silk and lace - makes him realize that he'd probably gotten off pretty easy in this wedding-themed torture. With a grimace, he examines the white candlestick in one hand as he pulls apart his bowtie with the other, leaving it to hang around his neck, and then makes a sweeping assessment of the rest of the room. Were they supposed to fight here? Who?

The bride and... wait, was that a mechanical person?

Griss rubs the back of his head. Maybe he'd hit the ground too hard and this was one hell of a dream.

Two of his own teammates charge ahead despite their unwieldy dresses, aiming for the dais that the happy (or something) couple stands on, shouting about love or some other goopy sentiment. Crashing the wedding sounded more appealing (while not in any scripture Griss had ever read, Lord Sombron ought to be proud of that, right? belittling bonds like he did), and on the cusp of realizing that he shouldn't just wallow in his misery while the others apparently have no problem fighting this way--

"YOU GOT THIS GREEN GUY!"

--he jumps straight out of his skin and looks wide-eyed at the kid who'd not said a word until now.

"So you got a voice after all," he says with a wince, rubbing his ear with the palm of his hand. "Never woulda thought white was my color but it'll make the blood look real nice."

Suddenly drawn out of its ceremony, the humanoid turns on them, drops its shoulder, and charges for the cocoon Marianne has withdrawn into.

"No you don't." Griss dashes in front of her, catching the full brunt of the charge. "Not gonna let you have all the fun this time, Annie."

Guardian Automaton 10/10HP** hits Marianne 7/10HP with Frozen Charge! FOUL PLAY: Griss 6/10HP intercepts [Roll: 17 - 2 = 15] Griss loses -0HP [-3HP - 4def = -0HP] Griss counters with Candlelight! [Roll: 13 + 8 = 21] Guardian Automaton 10/10HP** loses -1HP [-3HP - 2res = -1HP, 9/10HP**] Griss loses PP2 turn

The strike itself had wracked his body more than it hurt, but ice spread from the point of impact not unlike Griss' own gauntlets at the start of this training exercise, rooting him to the spot. He reaches instinctively for a tome to fight back, but it's the candle in his hand that ignites instead..

Guardian Automaton 9/10HP** misses Griss 6/10HP with Expelling Strike [Roll: 6 - 2 = 4, -0HP] Griss counters with Candlelight! [Roll: 1 + 8 = 9] Guardian Automaton 9/10HP** loses -1HP [-3HP - 2res = -1HP, 8/10HP**]

"Don't tell me that's the best you got, big guy!" Griss shouts, teeth clamping down into a grin he can see reflected back at him in the humanoid's glassy red eye. "This suit better be crimson by the time we're done. You haven't even drawn a drop of blood yet!"

Next: @arcaeda @sweetroyalberry @cursedbluebird @breidabloom

say yes to the dress! silver round — team twelve

[messedupessy]

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) GOD JUL (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 Or rather Merry Christmas to you all! Because sudden need to say merry Christmas to ya all in Swedish, because I can! and I know it's not the 25th which most of you prolly celebrate Christmas but in Sweden we celebrate on the 24th! Have just finished celebrated Christmas in fact, been having allot of fun actually, lot's of good food, some nice presents, covered myself in Christmas wrapping ropes thingies as is tradition for me every year, hanged out with my relatives which has been fun too, so yeah my Christmas has been hella good <:

Anyhow! I succeeded in finishing this just this morning, just a couple of minutes before my relatives arrived actually xD been fighting with it for like over a week I think and I am so happy it is finally done! Not super happy with the anatomy, his right leg, the one on the ground, looks a bit wonky to me, and all the fluff did not turn out as I wanted it, as I went and changed how I wanted it mid way and stuff, still looks kinda good tho, really happy with the red colours on the dress and the socks, the colours on his right glove turned out pretty good also, the candy cane didn't turn out so bad either even though it was supposed to have lines at first but it looks kinda good lineless to me and the background turned out pretty damn good :D

And of course he is wearing his crocs what did you expect?

[wri0thesley]

Well shit. The pet talk has me thinking about turning into a neko because of a curse gone wrong... would you like to write headcanons for the jjk men reacting to their crush befalling that fate? Who'd try to reverse it, who'd want to keep them that way? Who would use the chance to get closer or even turn it into pet play?

ahh to be a neko and be owned by a handsome jjk man.....

warnings: not sfw, afab reader implied, cat/neko hybrid reader, petplay mentions, master/pet dynamics!

♡ —-> below the cut: gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna, mahito <—-  ♡

♡ Gojo probably immediately figures out how to reverse it - but the thing is, right away, he doesn’t much want to. You just look so cute with the neko ears resting on your hair, your hands curled like paws, your tail curling around you so cutely. The light purr in the way you speak, the way your eyes keep contracting as you get distracted by a loose thread on his clothes or the light reflecting off his sunglasses. 

He’s going to take a lot of pictures of you; partly to make fun of you with later, partly because he just can’t help it. You’re adorable! As part-cat now, too, you’ve gotten a lot less good at hiding your affection. Gojo is suddenly being subjected to you batting your head against him, rubbing your face against his to mark him as yours - and he’s not complaining about it at all. 

He will very much use this as an opportunity for petplay. He’s got a bit of a power complex about being the strongest; you being a cute little pet at his knees, all helpless and mewling, is something he didn’t realise he’d want so badly. And you’re so sensitive, when he touches your ears or your tail. He kind of wants to get you a collar, to leave you like this forever - but he’s not going to, because at the heart of it, he’s a good man who wants the best for you.

It won’t stop him bringing this up all of the time afterwards, showing you the pictures, and buying you a cute tail and ear set to wear for him when the two of you are spending some alone time together, though. 

“Aww, kitty - that’s right, smile for the camera - say ‘nya~’!”

- ♡ -

♡ Nanami is more concerned than anything else. His first instinct is to protect you, and his second instinct is to be frustrated with himself for not protecting you thoroughly enough. He takes you back to his place before Gojo or anyone can see you, knowing that most of them won’t let you live this down and preparing to organise things himself. When it turns out Shoko can’t have a look at you until the next day, citing the fact that you’re not in any real danger, Nanami resigns himself to having to spend the night with you in this state. 

He tries to make you a bed in the spare bedroom but you crawl onto his bed anyway, nesting at the foot of it, curling yourself in covers. When he doesn’t pay attention to you, you sigh, rubbing your head against his leg, as if to say ‘well, go ahead, pet me’ - unfortunately, if you want Nanami to do that, you have to open your mouth and ask. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you.

When you finally do ask him with your words, he presses his lips thinly together but he also knows cats - you’re not going to let him rest until he does it. He finds himself soothed by petting your ears, the soft rumble of your throat, the way that his touch seems to make you relax. He hadn’t realised just how comfortable you must be with him. 

Nanami will not do anything to you in this state, even if you try and initiate it - when he gets to take you to bed for the first time, he hopes there will be no cursed nonsense present - just you, and him, and the beating of your hearts. But at least this little experience has given him some courage to push forward with his crush.  

“You really want me to stroke you? Well . . . I suppose I could . . . is this alright?”

- ♡ -

♡ Geto does not want to like the sight of you with your eyes big and wide and cute cat ears on your head and a tail extending from your backside as cute as he does. You’ve always been one of his favourite curse users, and perhaps he’s been nursing a crush on you for longer than he’d like to admit - but this just feels rude. You’re so cute with your head tipped to the side, sticking very close to him, fair brightening up when his hand so much as brushes your arm. 

He does want to fix you, of course - he doesn’t want anything to dull your sharp knife-edges, the cleverness thrumming beneath your skin. He thinks of the people he surrounds himself as family, and you as - as more than that. But he indulges in it for a little too long. Liking to watch your tail swish as you walk, your ears twitch - liking the noise you make when he runs his palm over your face. 

Geto, too, will indulge in a little petplay. How can he not, when you were so obedient and good for him even before this unfortunate occurrence? He soothes you with pets and kisses as you sink onto his cock, calling you his good kitten, asking you to purr for him and groaning when your slightly sharper than usual teeth nip at his neck and you mewl so prettily at the touch of his hands on your spine. 

Out of anyone, Getou is the most likely to tie a ribbon around your new tail and get you a cute collar with a bow and a bell on it. When you’re sat on his lap with his cock inside you, he murmurs softly not to let the bell jingle, be a good pet and stay exactly where he puts you - and for Geto, you’re a very well-behaved pussy-cat, and you do exactly what he asks you.

“Mm, that’s right - good kitten. You feel so right there. You’re such a pretty thing, so well-behaved--”

- ♡ -

♡ Toji should want to do something about this. He hates the idea of all of this cursed energy clinging to you - but he also knows there isn’t much he can do, and he isn’t willing to lower himself to ask for help from anyone who can do anything about it. So, welcome to your new life - you’re Toji’s cute little kitten now. He likes his kitten to lie on his lap, to nest in his bed, to eat off a bowl on the floor and wear their pretty collar--

He likes his kitty to be well-behaved, but honestly, Toji’s treatment whether you are well-behaved or not is much the same. He likes that you’ll sit and listen to him like everything he says is the most important thing in the world - likes that, now you’re his good little housecat, he is the centre of your universe. He’s rough with you no matter what, but you grow to absolutely love that sensation - love digging your claws into his back when he fucks you, love it when he groans ‘good kitty’ into your ear, love it when he stretches out beside you and lets you nuzzle into his chest, purring at him. 

He secretly likes it when you act up a little bit; if you spill your milk or if you purposely ignore him. He loves having an opportunity to tame the brattiness out of his kitten - to tug on your tail a little meanly, to remind you of who exactly you belong to.

“Aww, kittycat-- you’re really pushin’ my buttons today, huh? C’mere - lemme remind you who your owner is--”

- ♡ -

♡ Sukuna . . . if you’ve ended up like this and you’re Sukuna’s object of affection, we can only assume that Sukuna himself is the one to have engineered it. No other curse would dare to touch his property, after all - and if you are Sukuna’s, you are his property. You being a cute little kitty now doesn’t change the fact at all; if anything, it reinforces in Sukuna’s mind that you’re his pet. He owns you. You ought to be on your knees, your head bowed, practically quivering if he deigns to pet you or lavish you in affection--

You will be staying this way.

You’ll be learning exactly how a good pet behaves; how and when to use your tongue, how to respond to your Master’s petting of your ears, how to learn to roll over and present yourself when your Master wants to take you. Heaven help you if you go into heat, kitten - Sukuna’s deeply amused by your whimpering, by the way you keep nuzzling against his thighs and telling him that it hurts, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease.

If you’ve been very good, he’ll reward you by filling you up fuller than you even realised you could be. If you’ve been very bad, you’ll be sobbing and clawing into his sheets and begging to be touched with your own need streaming down your thighs. Either way, in the end, you’ll be mewling into Sukuna’s kimono with tears on your face from the stretch, secure in the knowledge that you’re owned. 

“A good kitten walks on all fours, hmm? A good kitten obeys their Master. A good kitten knows to do it immediately when I tell them to open their mouth--”

- ♡ -

♡ Mahito wants to find out everything he can about this interesting new development. Chances are, if he has a crush on you, you already know it - subtlety is honestly not one of the curse’s strong points. Chances are, too, if he has a crush on you and you’re still around, you’re okay with is - but this is probably going to push it over the edge. His hands are all over you, petting and tugging on your ears and your tail, probably trying to see how they attach to your skin and laughing when you flinch or blush or a certain rub of his thumb across your tailbone makes a purr thrum in your throat.

He’s telling you how cute you are through it all, laughing - he’s talking earnestly about the way humans keep pets, how he’s always wondered about it, and now he’s had one dropped into his lap, and isn’t that just fortuitous? At first, he wants you to be as much of a pet as you can - on your hands and knees, purring, mewling, the whole nine yards! But once he’s exhausted that option (Mahito’s moods tend to be whimsical and over in a flash before he’s moved onto the next one), he wants to explore your new additions and how doing certain things to you makes them feel. Expect to be fucked from behind by Mahito pulling your tail - expect him, too, to be very interested in the concept of cats going into heat! You’re an endlessly fascinating new toy, until you’re not quite as fascinating--

And then Mahito is shifting his soul to have his own cat ears and tail, to be mess around with you some more and see if your reactions are any different when he’s made himself your cat-boyfriend! Eventually, he’ll get bored of you being part cat and he’ll figure out how to get you back to your normal self on his own, but by then the damage has probably already been done and some part of you is just conditioned - to purr when your head is scratched, to docilely sit at Mahito’s feet and paw at the front of his trousers.

“You’re so cute! Humans like to play with their pets, right? Let’s play, then! Purr for me, koneko-chan~”

-  ♡ -

[lostinwildflowers]

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

Summary: Prince Sawamura Daichi hasn't found a bride, so his parents take things into their own hands. He hates you, for he didn't get to choose the one he married, but life moves on as a royal. What will the outcome of your marriage be?

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, swearing, angst, and otherwise fluff :)

A/N: Hey y'all! This is MY SEVENTH FIC for The Barn's "Royal Rodeo Collab"! I had so much fun writing this fic for Daichi, and I hope everyone enjoys it! -Birch<3

A prince is the image of the kingdom: proud, handsome, informed, powerful, kind. They are expected to learn and make choices that will one day bring them to lead their kingdom and be wise with their power.

And Prince Sawamura Daichi from the kingdom of Karasuno was exactly that. He was well known and respected in the towns across his country, people would flock to greet him whenever he went to the villages to visit and learn about his people.

Everyone knew that he was a kind soul, and wanted to lead Karasuno with a solid will and unwavering, true morals. Daichi was practically the definition of what a prince should be, and for every prince, there should be a matching princess to rule by his side.

However, the beloved prince had yet to find a woman to make his bride, thus leaving the king and queen with few other options. The king decided to take things into his own hands, seeking out a princess from the kingdom of Inarizaki, one of the biggest rivals of Karasuno.

He bartered that if the princess married Daichi, a large chunk of land would be given to Inarizaki as a show of peace between the rivaling countries. That was the deal, and the king and queen from across the sea agreed, shipping off their daughter to the kingdom of Karasuno to get married.

Quick and angry-sounding footsteps boom out as the prince makes his way to a private meeting room, where he knew his mother and father would be alone. Daichi pushes the door open with a deep furrow in his brow, not wavering or flinching whenever the door made loud contact with the wall.

“What the hell is this?” Daichi whispers with fire in his eyes and rage in his voice. His eyes flash as he looks at his parents, who just share a concerned glance. The king sighs and then stands up, turning to face his eldest son.

“My son, you have not yet found a bride, and your mother and I are getting older. You weren’t going to find someone suitable to be queen someday on your own, and we need to have an heir as soon as possible. You will be getting married whenever she arrives, so I suggest getting changed,” the king states, arms folding formally behind his back.

Daichi swears he can feel his heart stop beating in his chest as he glances from his father’s face to his loving mother’s, who smiles at him sadly and nods. Daichi’s mouth falls open as tears burn at the edges of his eyes and he whispers, “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

At that, the prince turns on his heel, whipping out of the meeting room to storm down the halls toward his bedroom. Daichi rips the door open and then slams it closed with yet another loud bang, tears flooding his eyes and down his cheeks as he cries into his hands.

Daichi never wanted this. He wanted to find the right girl on his terms, not his parents. He was sure he would find someone just right for him, that they would fall in love and it would be perfect.

As Daichi brushes away the tears from his eyes to be met with a deep burgundy-colored suit hanging on his dresser, he knows. Daichi knows that even though he has never met you, he hates you.

He didn’t pick you. He didn’t want to marry you. There aren’t any feelings between the two of you, so why does this news hurt so damn much?

You can feel your chest tighten with nerves as you make your way off of your ship and onto the private docks of the king and queen of Karasuno. Your (colored) eyes are scanning and searching the small crowd for the people you would soon have to call family.

A maid of yours slips by, grabbing your bag and other small belongings as you make your way off of the ship, and you smile sadly knowing that this would be the last time you would see her.

Two wide smiles greet you, and there is a moment where you don’t feel nervous as you make eye contact with the king and queen. You lower yourself into a curtsey, and they respectfully bow and curtsey back before welcoming you with a warm hug.

You can hear movement behind the two royals, and as you pull away from the hug, you catch sight of hardened brown eyes, and you feel a subtly gasp leave your lips at the sight of him.

Your husband-to-be, Sawamura Daichi.

The queen regains your attention by gushing out, “You are so beautiful, Lady Y/n, you will do lovely for our son.” The king clears his throat and nods, “It’s lovely to have you, Lady Y/n. Welcome to the family.”

A scoff can be heard from behind the king and queen, who part to let the prince step forward, his eyes narrowed with a scowl. Daichi’s eyes rake up and down your form, an unamused look resting on his features before he mutters, “I could’ve picked someone much better than this.”

The king’s voice rings out as he snaps, “Son, shut your mouth and take your soon-to-be wife, and our guest, to your chambers. You need to get over yourself and start acting like the prince you’ve trained to become.”

Daichi doesn’t say anything, his eyes remaining cold and unwavering as he stiffly offers you his arm, which you slowly take as you glance from him and then to the ground. His words ring harshly in your head- someone much better…

You both remain quiet as Daichi leads you to the palace and into your shared room. It’s very tense as Daichi pulls his arm harshly away from you and mutters, “Your gown is in the closet. You have an hour and I’ll come to get you. Don’t be late.”

You flinch as he snaps the door shut, and you can feel hurt rise in your throat as you turn toward the closet. You hadn’t even said or done anything to the usually kind prince, so why was he determined to hurt you like this?

You set out to work in getting yourself ready, brushing a deep red lipstick to your mouth and some eyeshadows to your lids to match the red-colored theme of the wedding. Soon enough, you find yourself slipping into your dress, but you couldn’t quite finish zipping it up to your neck.

A knock on the door makes you jump as you grasp the front of the dress, eyes wide in panic. A gruff voice calls, “I’m coming in.”

At that, Daichi walks into the room, his eyes landing on you, barely widening before they resume their stoic nature. He strides over to you and growls, “I thought I told you to be ready.”

You furrow your own brows and snap back, “Well if you haven’t noticed, this dress wasn’t designed for the wearer to be the one taking it off and on!”

Daichi’s brown eyes flash with what could be rage, but he doesn’t make any rash moves as he whispers lowly, “Turn around.”

You go to argue with him, but the glint in his eye tells you otherwise, so you shuffle the best you can, moving the dress so that he wouldn’t step on it, but gave him access to your half-open back.

Large and warm hands rest around your ribcage as Daichi’s fingers find the zipper, tugging it upwards in a swift motion before he steps away, his eyes raking over your figure once again.

As you turn to fully face him, you almost expect a compliment from the way his eyes graze your form, but instead, you are left recoiling from the harsh words that fall from his lips.

“I’ll never love you. Not even once we’re married. Never,” he states as he turns on his heel, walking out of the room as he fights the image of you in a wedding dress out of his head.

You rush to follow him, grabbing at your skirts as you think to yourself, And I will never you love, Sawamura Daichi. You are a mean, insufferable man and I can’t believe I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with you.

The wedding is beautiful, and of course, picture-perfect. There are huge pots and wreaths of flowers covering every aisle in the church, intricate ribbons indicating where guests should funnel and go.

The high ceiling of the cathedral allows a mirage of colors to paint the walls as light floods in from the enormous stain-glass windows. People are bustling to their seats as the time gets closer to the ringing of the cathedral bells, their footsteps loud enough to drown out the soft melody coming from the organ.

Daichi looks handsome, smiling as he greets and talks to the honored guests of his wedding. His smile is fake, eyes not quite lit up enough for a man on his wedding day, but the commoners are too daft to even notice.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of royal beauty. Your dress flows out from your waist in an elegant fashion. It’s not too loose, not too tight, and your hair and makeup look ethereal and regal. You’re waiting just outside the church, a few maids around you to help carry your dress up whenever the bells were to start ringing.

And just like that, people are settled into their seats, and music begins to play right as the bells start to chime. Flower girls, ring bearers, and people who were supposed to resemble bridesmaids and groomsmen are walking down the aisle, smiling brightly at the crowd, for it’s not every day you get to participate in a royal wedding.

Daichi finds his spot at the altar, and his eyes seem to focus on the door handle that he knew led to you. Two maids push the doors open with a wide swing, tossing red rose petals onto the ground as they scurried to the side, leaving the entire cathedral to stand at the sight of you.

There you stood, alone at the end of the aisle. Daichi felt tears stinging at the sore skin at the corner of his eyes, but not because of how beautiful you looked.

No, it was because he was getting married to a woman he had no desire to be with. He was getting married to a woman who he hated.

You make your way down the aisle confidently, blinking in thanks as you hear whispers of encouragement and praises of beauty as you make your way up to Daichi. Once at the front of the altar, you pass your intricate bouquet off and offer your hands for Daichi to take.

His hands are warm and rough in your own clammy and shaky ones, your heart racing as you look up from your entwined fingers to Daichi’s longing and saddened gaze. He manages to keep a smile on his lips, and you try to mimic that to keep up the ongoing production.

The vows pass quickly and meaninglessly, the words empty promises that held no weight as the priest monologued on. You almost forgot about the last part though, eyes so fixed on learning the curve of Daichi’s face while not making a fool out of yourself.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest’s voice says lightly, and you can feel the energy of the room turn electric as the crowd waits for Daichi to kiss you. You note the pain and struggle in Daichi’s eyes as he pulls his hands away from your own, and rests them on your waist instead.

He leans in slowly, pulling you flush against him before he changes his mind. Daichi keeps a firm hold on you as he brings you across his body as lowers you into a full-on dip. Your face is one of surprise as he brings his face to yours, his lips aimed toward your own in a kiss.

To the crowd in the pews, Daichi just pulled you into a dramatic kiss to give the new love of his life a memory worthy kiss. But to you, Daichi pulled you into a bridal dip so that his lips didn’t have to fully rest on your own, and angled just right, could plant his kiss just on the edge of your mouth instead.

The crowd whoops and hollers he holds you there for a second, his lips lingering near your cheek as he whispers, “Try to look like I just gave you the best damn kiss of your life.”

You blink up at him, slightly dazed as he pulls you out of the low dip, his hand lacing with your own as he shoots a wide grin toward his people, raising one arm to wave at them as you regain your balance and smile as you see the maids of honor giggle at the flush on your cheeks.

You almost stumble as Daichi begins to pull you down the aisle, but his firm grip on your hand keeps you from doing so, and he tucks you under his arm stiffly as he continues to play the part of the perfect and happy prince.

Daichi had insisted to his parents that he did not want a reception, and they at least respected that, so they dismissed everyone from the church as Daichi helped you up and into the carriage to take you back to the palace.

You remain quiet as the carriage rolls back to the castle, and you can feel your throat tighten as you realize what’s usually expected of the bride and groom on the night of their wedding.

Daichi is silent as he leads you through the unfamiliar hallways back to the room where you had first gotten changed. He locks the door behind the two of you and begins to take off his burgundy jacket, followed by the sharp black bowtie that had been knotted around his neck.

You swallow shakily when you realize that you can’t get out of the dress yourself and you take a step backward as Daichi turns to you, his gaze sharp and emotionless.

“Turn,” the command comes, and you feel tears returning to your eyes as you flinch under his touch. Daichi pulls his hands away at your sudden movement, and his eyes slightly soften as he mutters, “I’m just helping you unzip. There are clothes in the bathroom you can change into.”

At his words, you carefully shuffle back over to him, where his hands find the zipper at the top of your neck and pulls it the whole way down to the end of your spine. Without another word, he turns away and walks back over to his dresser, allowing you to slip into the bathroom.

You let out a huge and relieved sigh whenever you shut the bathroom door behind you, confident enough that Daichi wouldn’t walk in on you as you step out of the dress and change into a simple nightgown.

You find the hanger that the dress had been on, and do your best to hang it up the way you found it. You go through the motions of brushing your hair and teeth, wiping the makeup off, and mentally preparing yourself to sleep next to your husband for the night.

Husband. You still couldn’t believe that you were married to a man who hated you and had barely shown you a glimpse of kindness.

When you return to the bedroom, Daichi has already slid under the covers and is laying on his back, brown eyes trained toward the ceiling. They glance at you as you make your way over to the other side of the bed, hesitantly laying on your side with your back facing him on the edge of the mattress.

The night slides by quietly, where no conversations or stories are shared. Daichi makes no move to get anywhere near you or touch you, so you let yourself rest without the worry of needing to consummate your marriage.

The next few months are cold and dry as winter comes and freezes the kingdom of Karasuno over. The chill of the wintery season hits you hard, making you numb to your surroundings as you fill in the new role of “Princess Y/n L/n, future queen of Karasuno and married to Prince Sawamura Daichi”.

Thankfully, you could almost call Daichi an acquaintance at this point. He had opened up slightly over the few months from summer into autumn, seeing as he was going to have to live with you for the rest of his life.

The two of you would never talk about the way he would occasionally hold you while laying in bed whenever the night would be extra chilly, or the way he would rub your back when you would wake up from a particularly grueling nightmare.

In turn for his small and kind actions, you would bring him the intermittent gifts of a small lunch, or a snack bag with his favorite fruits that you’d come to learn by just watching. When his meetings and practices were long, he always forgot to eat, so the little gifts caught him off-guard more than they should have.

The small actions between the two of you continued, and slowly but surely the actions started to turn into words. If you were up reading late into the evenings when Daichi finally managed to slip back into your room, he would ask you what you were reading.

Sometimes you would read for him, lulling him to sleep with your voice before you would get up to blow all of the candles out. There was one time you stopped reading because you thought he fell asleep, but then you heard him mumble, “And then what?”

You had to calm your heart and the flush on your cheeks as you began to read again, this time with Daichi’s eyes half focused on your face and half focused on the words falling from your lips.

Nights like these hung in your mind as you found yourself growing fond of the brown-haired prince. You liked how Daichi was treating you, just like how he treated everyone. You could see the soft and kind side to him that everyone raved about, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s the night of your first anniversary as a married couple. As husband and wife. You weren’t really sure what to do, because Daichi hadn’t said anything, and neither had the king or queen.

You were writing at one of the desks in your shared bedroom, scribbling down a letter to send to your mother and father, letting them know how you were. The door to your room swings open, and you are surprised to see Daichi standing in the doorway.

In his hands, he holds two plates of steaming food, with the faintest blush hanging on the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. He wore a simple, white shirt with black slacks, and yet he managed to look utterly handsome in the basic outfit.

He walks over to you, setting the plates down on the desk before hurrying back over to the door, shutting it a little too harshly. You set down your inked feather carefully as you glance from the food and back over to Daichi, confusion evident in your expression as he sits down across from you.

Daichi pulls out neatly wrapped silverware, handing a bundle to you as he states, “I canceled all of my meetings for this evening.”

You blink in surprise as you take the silverware from his hands and mumble, “You didn’t have to do that, Daichi.” He shrugs as he unwraps his utensils and mutters, “It’s the least I could do. Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

You smile at him as he takes a bite of the pasta and you think to yourself, Happy anniversary, Daichi. The food is quite delicious as you start eating, and you bring yourself to have a pleasant conversation as the two of you munch away.

Soon enough, dinner slides by and you are pleasantly full, and Daichi looks the same. He offers you his hand as he stands up and murmurs, “Shall we?”

You take his hand, much more confidently than you had a year ago, and allow him to help you to your feet. He pressed your hand to his arm, a smile on his lips as he guides you out the backside of your room, into a private garden where the moonlight shined bright.

The two of you walk around the garden in pleasant silence for a while, and you can feel your grip tightening around Daichi’s muscular forearm as you walk. He doesn’t seem to mind it, as he rests his opposite hand over the top of yours as you meander around.

Daichi ends up leading you out of the garden and over to a large field alongside of the castle, and you stumble slightly at the more uneven ground. Daichi is quiet as he pulls your hands away from him, but then securely wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you to his side.

You flush under the close proximity, and you can’t help but blink at him in awe as the moonlight bounces off of his sharp and angled features, making him look even more handsome. Daichi glances down at you and smiles, a real smile where you can see his pearly whites, and you can’t help but smile back.

He guides you onto the ground before sitting next to you, your (colored) eyes focused on the stars and galaxies above you. Daichi watches the sky for a minute before looking over at you, noting the way your hair framed your face and how your lips were just barely parted open.

“I never hated you,” his voice comes out, soft and low in a slow whisper. Your eyes widen before you turn your head to face him, and you are met with a soft and embarrassed flush on Daichi’s cheeks.

“What?” you whisper, fully turning your body to face him as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Daichi shrugs and continues, “I was upset that I didn’t get to pick who I fell in love with, so I vowed that I would never love you.”

You nod in return, your eyes moving toward the ground as you begin to pick at the grass while you say, “I was… I was actually excited to be married to you, Daichi. I had heard of this kind and handsome prince from across the sea, and I was excited. And then...”

You sigh at the end of your words and shoot him a tight-lipped smile and Daichi picks up where you left off, “And then you experienced me first hand and decided I wasn’t what you had conjured up in your head. And that I was more handsome than you were expecting.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully shove at him, but Daichi expects this, so he allows your body to move on top of his own, his hands gripping at your waist as you look down at him surprised.

He brushes that stray piece of hair out of your eyes and murmurs, “I’m sorry for being a jerk to you all of these months.”

You relax in his grip and whisper back, “It’s okay, Daichi. You couldn’t have fallen in love with someone you were being forced to marry.”

Daichi doesn’t respond for a moment, his eyes just flick over your face, noting the soft curve of your cheek that’s lit up by the moon. He tries to burn the memory of your eyes twinkling into his head forever.

When he doesn’t respond, you get a little worried. You shuffle from where you lay on top of him and whisper, “Daichi? What did you me-” “But I am in love with you, dammit!”

Daichi’s words knock the air out of your lungs and cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Your heart skips and palpates a few times before setting into a rapid beat that makes you shake your head a few times to clear your thoughts.

“Daichi- I...” your words trail off as your gaze flicks around his face, searching for any hint of deception. When you don’t find any you giggle out, “Well you big doofus, I love you too.”

The prince laughs at the nickname, and you can feel his chest vibrate with the heft of his laugh, and his grip tightens on your waist so you don’t go too far. Daichi slows his laugh down to a soft chuckle before cupping your face gently with one hand.

He brushes his thumb along the curve of your cheek, and you lean into his tender touch as your eyes flutter closed. Daichi runs his thumb just to the corner of your mouth and whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You give him a simple nod, allowing him to lean upwards to catch your lips with his own while his hand moves to the backside of your head.

This kiss is a lot different from the one he gave you at your wedding.

This one is sweet and warm, and Daichi’s body is soft but firm under your touch, and you are pliant and willing in his grasp. A quiet groan leaves his lips as he tastes your mouth, his lips moving slowly against your own as he pulls you close under the midnight stars.

When you finally pull away to catch your breath you gasp out, “I’ll always love you, Daichi.” The brown-haired prince smiles up at you and replies, “And I will always love you too, my queen.”

It was a long year of back and forths, highs and lows, hate and love. But it seems that whenever you would say “never”, it might have meant “always” instead.

Tag List: @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm@babieweeb @shirari @animated-moon

[crystalirises]

Phil is a famous and powerful Vampire Hunter with three sons, Wilbur, Tommy and Techno. One night Wilbur gets kidnapped by a vampire, he gets turned into a vampire but for years he has hope his father or twin would come to save him. His family never comes, he eventually gives up on hope and around this time he falls in love with another Vampire named George. They want to have a kid but they can't make one themself, so they surprise adopt Fundy. One of the vampire hunters SBI comes to help and everything goes downhill from here.

also thanks for the great writing

Y O U

I don't know who you are, but I love this prompt so much. Like, I want to confess right now that I actually have like... four (???) vampire AUs that all concern Georgebur + Sondy. I just haven't written them cause well, I just talked about them with a friend and 'm lazy to write XD.

But this prompt. YESSSSSSSSSSSS.

It literally just has everything. Wilbur's daddy issues and abandonment issues. Georgebur. Fundy. Surprise Adoption (Kidnapping). Vampires.

Love it.

Anyway, warnings: Blood, Violence, General Vampire Warnings, Possible Kidnapping, Mentions of Death, Abandonment Issues, Grief, and Suicidal Themes

Hope you like this!

“Eret? W-wha…? It’s the middle of the fucking night, man!”

Wilbur rubbed at his eyes, his friend’s hunched silhouette illuminated by the window.

They didn’t respond, and Wilbur could hear alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind.

He climbed out of bed, taking quick notice of the empty bed on the other side of the room. Techno and Phil must be out. Wilbur tried not to let it hurt him as much, his attention focused on his best friend who hadn’t made a single twitch or move ever since they’d climbed through his bedroom window. Worry settled in his gut, a heavy weight settling over his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stepped closer, the faint scent of metal piercing through the air. Wilbur nearly gagged, pressing a hand to his mouth and nose. Blood. He glanced down at the carpeted floor, goosebumps running down his skin as he gazed at the dark pool that was forming beneath Eret.

“ERET!” Wilbur gripped his friend by the shoulders, “What happened?!”

“Wil…?” Eret practically collapsed against him, hands clinging to the back of his shirt like their life depended on it. Underneath the darkness of the room, Wilbur could hardly look Eret in the eyes. Eret shook within his hold, almost like they were struggling against some force. “N-n-no!”

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?! Who did this?!” Wilbur pulled Eret away, but their head was leaned against his shoulder, their breath cold against his neck. It was difficult to see, but after a moment, he found the source of Eret’s pain. There was a dagger lodged against their back, just a few inches off Eret’s heart. He felt a panic course through him. Should he fucking pull it out?! He wasn’t a fucking healer, what the fuck was he supposed to do?! “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, um… I…”

His fingers grasped at the leather hilt, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything! Wilbur took a moment to listen to Eret’s breathing, their shallow breaths were mere puffs against his skin. He could feel Eret’s blood between his fingers, somehow, the blade hadn’t stopped the bleeding. Wilbur made a choice. He wouldn’t let his best friend bleed out. “I’m so sorry, Eret.”

Wilbur pulled the blade, wincing at the squelch of flesh and blood that resonated through the room. It was easy to ignore, since Eret let out the most unholy screech that Wilbur had ever heard in his life. He shuddered at the scream, the pain within its shriek. He swore that it sounded like— Eret collapsed against him, unconscious, but their breath had regained normalcy. Wilbur hesitantly held onto them, attention turning to the blade that he’d pulled from his best friend. Their village wasn’t the safest place, but one could usually walk around without being stabbed.

He held the dagger, blood still sticky against the skin of his palm. Wilbur brought the blade closer, eyes narrowing. It was a blade made of pure silver, the hilt dyed pink with a pink ribbon tied to one end. A chill ran down his spine. He adjusted the dagger, looking at the bottom of the hilt. A silver crow stared back at him. It was his dad’s symbol, but it was Techno’s blade.

He dropped the blade just as a searing pain tore through his throat.

He screamed, sharp teeth biting deeper into his skin.

Jagged claws gripped at the back of his shirt, an inhumane growl tearing through the air as Eret suddenly pushed him to the ground, holding him still as they continued to feed on his blood.

His mind turned to fog, but he could hear the slam of a door in the distance… 

“WILBUR!” Someone screamed. But he was dragged away. And then there was nothing.

---

“I’m sorry…”

It was the first thing Eret had told him once he’d woken up, and they’d been saying it ever since.

“Sorry doesn’t change me back, Eret. Sorry doesn’t make me any less of a monster than you!”

“I didn’t mean to, Wilbur!” Eret wrapped their arms around themself, “I was tired and injured.”

“Of course you were fucking injured!” He hissed out, “You deserved to be!”

“I know.” Eret hung their head, “I know, Wilbur. I’ve known that all my life.”

“Then you should have given yourself the mercy of death the moment you first turned!”

“You don’t think I tried?!” They both took a breath. They stood in one of the many great halls of Eret’s home, a castle hidden deep within the forest, far from the prying gaze of any mortal. Eret gestured to the portraits of vampires before them, vampires that were absent from the castle. Wilbur and Eret were the only ones in the castle, and in the past few months, Wilbur wondered where Eret’s servants were. Where were the butlers? The maids? The human bloodbanks? “I’m not ancient, but I might as well be. I come from a long ancestry of vampires, but it wasn’t by choice, Wilbur. My… sire… he was cruel, but he cared for me too much to let me go and die.”

“Where’s your sire now?”

“I don’t know.” Shame danced across Eret’s face, “But I know that I fear death to try again.”

“So you’d rather drink the blood of the innocent? You’d rather be a monster?!”

“It’s been so long, Wilbur. I don’t recall what it is even like to be human.” It was an odd confession, one filled with so much heart that if Wilbur didn’t know that vampires didn’t have beating hearts, he might have fallen for the trick. He scowled instead, disgust ripping throughout his whole being. To think they’d been his closest friend. Instead, they’d turned and betrayed him by turning him into a parasite like them. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I get so hungry—”

“Then fucking control it!” It was unreasonable, and they both knew that. Wilbur should know, in the first few days since he’s turning, he kept attacking Eret since his new stomach needed his sire’s blood. He’d gotten better control… but sometimes the hunger would take over him again. Eret never complained. Not like they had any right to, after all, this mess was their fucking fault.

“My dad will come for me.” Wilbur spoke softly, “And when he does, I hope he kills us both.”

“I hope not.” Eret shuddered, “In truth, Wilbur. I don’t want to die.” Wilbur didn’t care.

---

“You’re new. Intriguing, but a bit too humanlike for my taste.”

He groaned, burying his head in his hands. Eret had apologized, but for the evening they were meant to host a gathering for the renowned vampire families within the continent. Wilbur had been forced to wear a yellow suit that had a collar that scratched and irritated his neck. After an hour of being gazed and prodded at, he’d had enough of the gathering and had snuck away to a secluded balcony. Fuck Eret’s reputation. Unfortunately, a nuisance had followed after him.

“What, and humans are as good as livestock for you?”

“What of you? Do you understand that not all vampires kill those that they feed upon?”

“Doesn’t change that you’re all bloodsucking leeches.” He huffed, turning away to gaze into the distance. In the forest, one could see the stars of the night, but the only lights Wilbur wanted to see were of a village far, far away. It’s been years. Phil wasn’t coming for him. Neither was Techno. He rubbed at his wrists, the silence felt nice… but he knew the other vampire hadn’t left.

“That’s your issue. You still act human when you’re no longer one. Haven’t you understood that you’re trapped just like the rest of us… well, the rest of them?” The stranger moved to stand next to him, placing their arms against the cold stone banister. Wilbur took a moment to glance over, his breath catching in his throat. A pair of warm chocolate eyes stared up at him curiously. The stranger wore a light blue suit, and despite Wilbur’s assumption that all vampires were tall, this stranger was short… shorter than Wilbur. He was dressed finely, carrying himself with a strong elegance that only years of nobility could give. The only oddity was the goggles around his neck.

“...what do you mean?”

“I’ve been alive for centuries.” The stranger sighed, “I’m one of the ancients.”

���So you’ve turned many innocents into monsters.” The stranger let out a low laugh, mirthless and tired. It sounded like they’ve been told the same accusation before. Wilbur squirmed right where he stood. In truth, the stranger was far from what he expected an Ancient Vampire to be. Phil had told them that Ancient Vampires were powerful, and that they barely even looked human at all. His dad had never been wrong… and he would never lie. “But you look… normal.”

“Humans and exaggerations.” The stranger rolled his eyes, arching a brow at Wilbur. “Why do you cling to human beliefs? In the end they are inferior… and some are monsters themselves.”

“That’s not true.”

“What? Do you believe that all human misery stems from the existence of vampires?”

The stranger sighed, casting his gaze to the heavens. “Think. Aren’t we all monsters in our own ways?” He paused, catching Wilbur’s eye. “Vampires, humans… we all are monsters. A vampire who kills for the sake of killing and a father who abandons his son to die… both monsters, hm?”

He stayed silent for a long while, letting his heart finally crack under the truth. “I’m Wilbur.”

The stranger scoffed, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m George Lore. A pleasure to meet you.”

---

“He’s an actual angel.”

Wilbur watched his husband cradle the human boy that they had taken from a nearby village, the poor baby looked pale, his breath coming out in short huffs. George had wrapped an orange ribbon around their son’s neck, concealing the bite marks that would begin their son’s transformation. He had wanted to turn the boy himself, but George had intervened. Wilbur had only been a vampire for ten years, he wouldn’t have the self-control to simply bite and not feed.

“He bumped into me.” Wilbur chuckled, “I just knew he was perfect.”

‘It had been odd. His father had stated once before that vampires couldn’t walk underneath the sunlight, but that had been a terrible misconception, one that Eret and George had both laughed at. The idea had stemmed from - actually, they were an ancestor of Eret - a vampire who had had a very dramatic reaction to the sun after decades of being chained inside an underground vault.

Wilbur laughed mirthlessly. Another lie. Maybe vampire hunters were just full of shit.

He walked through the bustling streets of the city, his pace slow and relaxed. He’d gone with Eret to procure a few fruits from the village market, but while Eret’s back was turned, Wilbur snuck away to have a morning stroll around the wooden buildings and through the small alleyways.

Wilbur had slipped into an alleyway when a bright orange blur bumped right onto him. If he had been human, he would have continued on, slightly irritated but unaware of the crime that had just been committed. But he hadn’t been human for so long, and the world to him was a swirl of motion and color. Slow, the present quickly melting into the past. He gripped the hand that had snuck into his pocket, his vice-like grip nearly bruising as he pulled the orange blur to face him. A pained whine escaped the thief, small and so childlike that Wilbur had nearly let them go then and there. He kept his mercy at bay, eyes narrowed dangerously at the cretin who had dared to—

Wide brown eyes flecked with gold stared up at him in fear. The child had collapsed completely in Wilbur’s hold, practically hanging against the hand that was curled around his wrist. Wilbur adjusted his grasp, easing up so as not to hurt the poor child. But he’d been a bit too late. A river of tears cascaded down the child’s cheeks, small whimpers piercing through the quiet air.

“I’m sorry!” The child continued to cry, “Please don’t hurt me! I just… I was so hungry…”

“You were hungry?” The question only made them cry even louder. “Oh no, it’s alright. Shhhh.”

He kneeled so that he was at face-level with the child. “What’s your name, champ?”

“F-Fundy…” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose on the tattered sleeve of his black jacket. Wilbur took in the child’s clothes, the dirt that clung to pale skin… Wilbur didn’t need to ask to know. He gently let go of the child, careful to keep a hand on the child’s back so that he wouldn’t immediately try to run away. Fundy didn’t move, his bottom lip trembling. Wilbur continued to shush him, moving the child so that he was closer to him, enough for Wilbur to catch him in case he tried to run away. Fundy was hungry. Wilbur knew a thing or two about hunger. The boy was still staring at him. He made a quick decision. Wilbur smiled. He and George did want a kid…’

“He was hungry. I couldn’t just leave him, love.”

Wilbur approached George, his husband had placed Fundy back on the huge bed that seemed to swallow him. He was so small. He ran a hand through their son’s curly hair, catching George’s eye as his husband bit into his wrist. Newly made vampires needed their sire’s blood to survive.

“Well,” George placed his wrist above Fundy’s lips. “He won’t go hungry now that we’re here.”

---

Techno sharpened his dagger.

The glow of the fire illuminated the monster’s face, the dark blood that pooled against their pale skin a constant reminder that the person before him was nothing more than a bloodsucking leech upon humanity. He sheathed his dagger, a part of him eager to pierce through the vampire’s skin and tear out their heart. He couldn’t, not yet. They were bait for the Ancient. His actual target.

“He won’t come,” the vampire muttered. “Not for me. We aren’t kin… o-or are you—?”

“I’m here for Lore.” Techno huffed, “Not Brine.”

The beast raised their gaze, the warm fire somehow weaker against the light of their pure white eyes. It was the mark of the Brine Vampire Clan, powerful ancient vampires that once brought chaos upon the world. But to Techno, this particular vampire was more damning than any other vampire in existence. He knew their face, he knew their name. Wilbur had trusted them once, and look where that had gotten him. Mutilated somewhere, a decomposing corpse that would never find its way back home. “You haven’t killed me yet. I would have thought that you…”

“I wish I’d killed you those years ago.” He had been so close. A few inches off the heart. If only his aim hadn’t been so shaky back then, then maybe Wilbur would still be… “I wish I did.”

Tommy had hated him for being late. Their relationship had never recovered after that fateful night. If Techno hadn’t hesitated. If Techno hadn’t froze the moment he realized where the vampire had run off to. If Techno had run just a bit faster. By the time he reached their house, Tommy had collapsed by his and Wilbur’s bedroom door, skin so pale that Techno worried that the vampire had gotten him too. He’d taken one look at the empty bedroom, the white curtains billowing as the night air came from the open window, dark blood left to dry on the carpet. He’d known. He’d known back then. His twin was gone. Devoured by a beast that he’d failed to kill.

“Techno, I am sorry. I can’t help what I am. You injured me, I was injured, bleeding, and scared. My instincts took over. I never meant to hurt anyone. I never meant to hurt Wil.” His hand clenched against the hilt of his blade. He would not listen to such lies. Twenty years. Twenty years since the monster before him took away his twin brother. Twenty years of blaming himself for failing. Phil never blamed him, of course his dad would never blame him. But on bad days, Phil would confuse him for Wilbur finally come back to them. That’s why he’d dyed his hair.

“Senseless apologies do not bring the dead back to life. It does not mend the frayed relationships of a broken family. It does not erase the years of guilt and sorrow. It does not erase the hurt that you caused. You took away a life, and I should take away yours. Wilbur wouldn’t have wanted me to. He was our family’s poet, the one who could see the beauty of the world despite the monsters that lurked within it. I should kill you for the pain you’ve caused my family.” Techno’s hand trembled. The beast stared at him through the orange flame, a perplexed look crossing their face. Of course, they wouldn’t understand human grief. “I’ll have your head after I have Lore’s.”

He took a deep breath. If there had been any other vampire that could bait the Ancient, then Techno would have gladly used them instead. Being around this particular vampire brought forth emotions that he’d buried years ago. There was still a question that was poised at the tip of his tongue, an urge to ask what Eret had done to his twin’s corpse. Had they buried him? Or had they left Wilbur to rot until nature consumed every piece of his body? He wanted to know, but he feared that the vampire would mock him. So, he kept his question unasked. Ignorance was bliss.

---

“Techno.” He froze, hands poised over the silver-lined ropes that kept Eret’s hands tied behind their back. Wilbur had snuck closer into the empty camp, ears desperately trying to catch every little noise, but the fire had rendered his efforts useless. Techno had used the crackle of wood to disguise his footsteps, using it to sneak behind Wilbur, a familiar blade pressed to the side of his neck. The dagger wavered, but it stayed where it was. He took a chance to look behind him.

It was like looking at a mirror, except he didn’t have pink hair. “Wilbur…?”

A flicker of disbelief danced in those emotionless eyes, it surprised him. A part of him looked at his twin, and he could almost feel his old human heart beat inside his chest. He wanted to reach out, pull his brother into a tight embrace. Techno had grown up… and Wilbur knew he was the same age he was when he’d been turned. He was happy to see Techno again, but… the blade lowered from his neck. Yet Techno hesitated. Suddenly, all the bitterness and pain came surging back. Techno didn’t care for him. To his twin brother, he was nothing but another beast to slay.

He gripped the hilt of the dagger, twisting it away from his brother’s grasp before Techno could even fight back. His family had left him for dead. And now Techno was here to kill Eret and George, maybe he’d end up harming Fundy too. Wilbur can’t have that. He won’t lose his family.

Wilbur bared his fangs, “I’ll kill you. Take a single step, Technoblade, and I will tear you open.”

=============================================================

I didn’t mean to... but like, midway while I was writing this I suddenly decided “nah, don’t make the vampires so one-dimensional.” So yeah, a lot of misconceptions on the side of vampire hunters regarding vampires but some vampires still do kill people and most still see themselves as superior to humans. 

Also, yes. Eret is the vampire who took Wilbur because I wanted a bit of angst and I was like: “Hey, make Eret’s betrayal here be the fact that he and Wil are best friends but turns out Eret is a vampire.” Eret never meant to turn Wilbur, but it ended up happening anyway.

Now... about Fundy’s turning... I will leave that ambiguous. While he is in fact an orphan and lives in the streets, it was never mentioned here whether or not he agreed to being turned into a vampire.

Also also, I wasn’t gonna add Techno’s pov but like... “I Didn’t Say Goodbye” from The Mad Ones started playing and I was just: okay, Techno angst time.

I apologize for not adding Tommy but I didn’t know where to put him XD

So yeah, hope you guys liked this!

[earlgreydream]

florist.

| Zemo x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. Zemo is a mob boss and the reader is a cute little florist who is always happy and all and she is a virgin but Zemo is really experienced. The reader wants to try it, and Zemo asks her is she’s sure and then she wiggles a lot and Zemo asks is he can tie her up because we ✨kinky✨ and she agrees and then after they try it the reader loves it and then Zemo sings her bah bah black sheep as a lullaby after wards as he holds her in his arms

The sweet aroma of roses welcomed the dark mob boss with the bloody hands. It surrounded Zemo, delicate and familiar, much like you. The bell chimed as he pushed open the door to your shop, leather boots tapping on swept tile floors.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” You called, bent down behind the counter, looking for white ribbon to tie bouquets.

“No rush, darling,” Zemo spoke evenly.

At the sound of your boyfriend’s Sokovian accent, you stood up. His heart softened when you beamed at him, a bright smile crossing your face. He loved your cheerful demeanor and your sweet personality. You brought the scary criminal so much joy, balancing the darkness with your light.

“Hi,” you breathed, walking around to greet him properly.

“Hello my beautiful darling,” he kissed you deeply, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“What brings you here? I thought you had big important meetings?” You asked, sliding your hands into his blond hair and dragging him back to your lips before he could answer.

“I just wanted to see my girl,” Zemo murmured into your neck, adding to the fading love bites that were already there.

“I’m your girl,” you giggled happily, squealing as he lifted you to sit on the counter.

He squeezed your thighs, his hands resting just below the hem of your sundress. You pressed little kisses to his lips, delighted by him visiting you in your flower shop.

“I was hoping I could come over tonight?” You asked shyly, your fingers toying with the blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed thoughtfully against his forehead, thinking through the plans for the rest of the day. He supposed that he could send someone else to the deals, already shifting his schedule around in his head. Zemo loved to indulge your every whim and desire, even if it were as simple as being together.

“I’ll be there,” he kissed you, feeling you smile into it. It made his heart swell as he melted at your innocence. Your hands smoothed down over his blazer, feeling his well formed muscles under the fabric.

“I’ll take you home today.”

You smiled, enjoying being carted around in one of Zemo’s many fancy cars. Your scary, dangerous boyfriend was a stark contrast to you, the innocent, sweet florist. He loved to spoil you and treat you like his princess, and he was soft for you. You adored him, and even though he could be intimidating at times, he was always sweet to you.

“I have some people coming in to pick up bouquets. I’ll see you later?” You inquired, and he pecked your lips.

“Later,” Zemo’s voice was low.

You watched him go, returning to your work and finishing up bouquets for happy couples to pick up.

“Thank you!” You called after the last people left.

You flipped the sign on your door to ‘closed’ and started to put away everything that was left out. The sound of a sports car rolling up outside caught your attention, and you grabbed your bag.

You were so excited to be with Zemo that you struggled to lock the finicky door, laughing at yourself.

“Hi, my love,” you smiled, stepping into the car with white leather seats. Zemo took your bag and set it in the backseat, his hand going to rest on your thigh.

You were practically anxious with excitement. Zemo had been caught up in copious amounts of work recently, leaving little time for your relationship. You were far more innocent compared to him, and the two of you had been taking things slower. Now though, with him gone frequently, you wanted more intimacy when he was around.

Zemo carried your bag inside for you, his free hand tightly holding yours. You were pushing your boyfriend up against the wall as soon as he was out of his coat and shoes.

“Y/N?”

“I can’t wait any longer Zemo. I need you,” you informed him, your pupils dilating with lust.

“You have me,” he responded calmly, wanting to hear you say it.

“No, I want you inside me. I want to have sex, I want you to take my virginity!”

The corners of his lips turned up into a smile, but he was hesitant to just give in. You’d gone quite a long time preserving your innocence, and Zemo didn’t think you’d be best off losing it to him.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, entirely serious. He never once pressured you, and he didn’t want you to feel as though you had to give him your body.

“I am.”

You looked him in the eyes with utter certainty. His hand went to your waist, pulling you into a needy, passionate kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and his hand traveled downward, gripping your ass through the thin fabric of a sundress.

Zemo swept you off your feet, carrying you to your bedroom. He couldn’t hold out anymore, you just looked so divine with your dazzling smile and tiny dress.

“I will do my best to be gentle, darling,” Zemo promised as he crawled over your now-nude body. Kisses had been pressed to every inch of your body, Zemo drawing out the foreplay to try to help you relax as much as possible.

“Please, I need you!” You writhed before he’d even touched your core.

He watched you squirm, even as he gently held you still. Zemo dipped down and kissed your collarbone, making you claw at his back.

“My sweet darling, you simply can’t hold still. Do I need to tie your hands up?” Zemo asked, teasingly nipping at your skin.

He was surprised when you nodded, willing to try it. You wanted your dominant boyfriend to exert his power over you, leading you and showing you pleasure.

He retrieved a silk tie, binding your hands to the intricate bedpost.

“Say the word and I’ll free you, darling.”

“Yes, Zemo. Just please fuck me, I want you so bad,” you begged, lightly tugging at the ties on your wrists.

He knelt between your legs, brushing the tip against your soaked folds. You shuddered when he tapped your swollen clit, a choked moan leaving your lips. You were practically throbbing with need, salivating from the sight of your well-endowed boyfriend.

He held your hips and carefully eased into you, studying your face. You gripped the silk that restrained you, startled by how painful it was. You expected it to hurt a bit, but not near as much as it was.

“Zemo!” You gasped with watery eyes.

“I know, darling. I’m so sorry, just try to relax. It’ll feel better in just a moment,” he promised apologetically, his heart aching at the threat of your tears.

Sweet kisses were pressed to your lips, and you were thankful for the security of the ties. Zemo’s fingers danced and stroked your clit, trying to get your body to ease up.

“Want me to untie you?”

“No, no, please, just move—” you gasped, arching your back as he rolled his hips forward.

He built up a steady pace as he fucked you, stretching your tight pussy and drawing pleasure from you. You were better than anyone in the past, taking him and begging for more as he pushed his cock inside of you.

“That’s it, darling, cry out for me,” he groaned, further aroused by the sound of you shouting his name.

“Zemo! Please, faster!”

He obliged you, increasing his pace. He felt himself twitch, getting close to the edge. He was mindful that this was your first time, and he focused on making you come first.

The blonde leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, licking over the hyper-sensitive peak and nipping gently. Mewls escaped your lips and your body trembled at the combination of that, with the tight circles being traced on your swollen clit. Your walls caught on the veins of him, his tip brushing against every invisible, sensitive area inside of you.

You threw your head back and screamed as your body ignited with warmth, pleasure spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands yanked at the silk that kept you from touching him as you grappled for something to ground you.

The sight of your rapture had Zemo spilling into you, coming with a force that made your body shudder around him. Sokovian profanities echoed in your innocent ears, your chest rising and falling under his heady gaze.

“Zemo, I need to touch you,” you breathed, and your hands were freed.

You dragged your fingers through his damp hair, pulling the baron down to you. Your lips were captured in a heavy kiss, arms wrapping around your wrecked body.

After a bit of cleanup and adjustment, you settled into his lap, clad in one of his warm sweaters. Be gently rocked you, singing softly in Sokovian, bringing you down from the aftershocks of the intense sex.

[seraphdarlimg]

wish I were (pt3)

 harry appreciates reader in his speech but finally talks to her when she runs off crying

part 1

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST, swearing WORDCOUNT - 3,501

_________________________________________________________

   My head was empty while I appreciated the company of a glass of wine and city view of the venue. I leaned against the railing of the small balcony nook I found, away from the crowd of people as Bowie was played faintly through the speakers.

I arrived to the party alone. Even if our relationship is awkward at the moment, I couldn't miss his birthday. Especially if it feels like it would be the last one I attend for a while. It took me only a few seconds to find him talking to his management team, a conversation that I didn't want to interrupt. And for the next twenty minutes I find myself isolated from everyone. Maybe because I know the relationship topic would inevitably come up at one point during any conversation I join into. But also because I didn't know how to approach Harry himself anymore. I can't bring myself to start the conversation, but for him, it seems like everything is good and normal.

I promised myself to only one glass of wine, so when I finished that rather quickly then intended, I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. As much as I've been trying to think like Harry and feel completely normal again, I hated how much our relationship has effected me. No matter how many times I've told myself that it's better this way, I've avoided hanging out with mutual friends to keep away from a conversation about Heather.

I took a deep breath and turned around, looking into the venue to catch Harry smiling and nodding to Gemma. One arm across his chest while his cheek rested against the other. He looked too good this evening, wearing a worn vest and matching bell bottom pants. I allowed myself to stare till his eyes glanced in my direction and catch mine.

I soften when his smile grows wider and he excuses himself away from the conversation. "For some reason, I'd knew you'd come here when we checked out the space." He says as he walks out into the balcony. "Almost had a reservation sign put up with your name on it."

He engulfs me in a hug, nuzzling his face into my neck. I slowly wrapped my arms around him and find myself resting my head on his broad shoulder when I realize this was our first hug in weeks. Oh how much I missed this feeling.

"I appreciate the thought but damn, am I thought obvious?"

"Oh I just know you too well and you love me for it."

I feel goosebumps, finding ourselves though pulled away, still in each other's arms while I smile up at him. I hummed In response before holding up a finger and turning to get the small box in my purse. When I turn back around he has a sly smirk on his face as he looks at the box wrapped with a yellow bow I hold out to him.

"Happy birthday Harry. I wanted to give this to you in person." He takes the box and unwraps the ribbon and opens it. I hold my breath, watching his reaction as he stares at a familiar string of pearls. He runs his fingers through them, a look of admiration set on his face as I twiddled my fingers.

"I always let you wear mine so I just thought you'd like a pair of your own."

"You know me well too."

"And you love me for it." I chuckled, immediately turning around and looking out onto the view as he situates himself next to me, the box once again closed and held tightly in his hands. "I'll wear these till I wear them out. Oh! We'll wear them at the same time like friendship necklaces." He tells me, giving me a side hug and squeezing my arm.

I laughed at the thought, "Only we could make friendship necklaces out of pearls worth hundreds of dollars."

We stayed quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's company. The elephant in the room knows it's been a few weeks since the last time we shared a moment alone. I'm just not sure how he feels about the reason why.

"Shouldn't you go back out there? Supposed to be a good host." I nudged his shoulder with mine, not wanting to take him away from his party and not knowing how much I could take how hard my chest is beating at the same time.

"Well you're here. Almost thought you wouldn't show since you're weren't early."

"Can't I be fashionably late for once?"

"Glad you are though, bubs. Honestly was about to spend the night a sad man when Heather canceled."

Here we go, the one topic I dreaded would come up. Of course it would be with him when it does. "Oh. Uh she isn't here?"

"No yeah she ehm. She left yesterday for Paris. Last minute gig she booked." He shrugged it off like it was not a big deal, but he's playing with the yellow ribbon in a way that tells me otherwise.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure she'll make it up when she get's back." He scoffs, undoing the bow he just made with the ribbon. "If by 'make up' you mean a few hours in bed before she jet sets to Milan for a few months then yeah."

"Harry, you should tell her that you want her here."

"No, no it's fine. She can do whatever she wants, it's her career."

"It's also your birthday. Shouldn't girlfriends or whatever you two are right now care about that stuff?" I sighed, gently taking away the ribbon and box from him, wrapping it back while he turns and rests his back on the railing, crossing his arms and facing the entrance back into the venue. "That's the thing, I don't know what she wants out of this. I never did even when we were really together. When we were, it's so picture perfect and then when we'd get busy with our own lives, it's just so on and off. We blamed it on bad timing and long distance in the end but now that I think about it, we didn't know where to go from there."

"Do you know what you want now?"

"I think I do."

I tilted my head, growing frustrated but kept my tone calm. "Then why don't you just talk?"

"Ugh you know I'm not a confrontational person bubs." He finally looks at me, seeing me roll my eyes while he laughs it off. I shake my head, tapping on the box as he reaches out to rub my arm. "You're a dummy, Harry."

"Why do you call me that?"

I glanced at him, shrugging. "What do you mean?"

"What happened to 'H' hmm? Been calling me Harry for a while." Though his tone was lighthearted, his brows are furrowed and I can feel his intense stare.

"It's your name isn't it?"

"Obviously, but...I don't know, never mind-"

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." We suddenly hear from inside, making us both turn at the same time to see Jeff holding a cake and a crowd gathered around him, slowly walking towards the balcony where the birthday boy was. His smile grows back and we exchange a look before I hand him back my present and walk back in towards the celebration.

                                                           ***

"Well, I am a man of a few words... but a good comedian doesn't repeat the same joke two years in a row. Ehm, I'm gonna do what I know best which is to spew whatever I feel from in here and hope it sounds somewhat poetic." He laughs a little at his own joke, making little hand gestures and smiling when he gets the laughs and smiles back from his words. His eyes stray to the people in front of him and to the side in thought at times, but he makes the effort to look at his friends, family members and co-workers who he is ultimately grateful for. My eyes soften at his toothy grin, knowing I look like a complete fool as I stare at him in complete adoration despite it being completely obvious how enamored I am for this man.

He gives short thank you's to the his band members and relatives he's grown close too. I laugh at his awkward jokes but also the narcissistic ones he makes that boost his confidence a bit. He has one thing prepared to say for everyone that makes them melt. "Thank you Jeff for having to deal with me another year as well, while you do look after me I am always appreciative of how you act more as an old grandpa than a dude in a business suit."

"I also want to thank Heather..."

My smile dies down a bit, knowing he would want to say something about her even when she isn't here. What made my chest hurt once again was the realization that he hadn't said anything about me yet. I had anticipated it, wondering what he would say but he had skipped right over me. I placed my hand on my knee to keep it from shaking as Harry said her name instead.

"I'll just text her later but I wanted to thank her for allowing me to write about her and being an overall beautiful person."

Thinking his speech was over and accepting how little I meant to him, he finally calls my name. I froze for a bit, looking up at him to see him already looking at me. He paused a bit, an amused look on his face when he sees how caught off guard I was.

"I saved the best for last for two reasons, one because she looks adorably silly right now..." He chuckles when I save myself with an eye roll and stuck my tongue out at him.

"And two, because I knew it'll be harder for me to come up with the words to describe how important of a person you are to me."

The curiosity and need to know what he would say about me, as well as the internalized emotional stress grew. His tone was softer and he seemed more calmer than he was a few minutes ago. The sentence already began making my heart pump and ache, and the recent events that had shaken up our relationship almost thrown out the window when he continued.

"You're so good to me and I can't thank you endlessly enough for everything you've done for the past year since I hired you. Not only was it the best decision I ever made because of how talented you are, but it also gave me the opportunity to really know someone like you. I was in a bad place when you met me and I'll never forget the kindness and patience you showed me even then. And though you call me a 'boomer' so many times and constantly come up with better melodies than me, it's worth every witty joke and bad pun just to see a smile that lights up the room. Your friendship is worth every time you complain about my kale chips."

His eyes were caught on mine from the beginning, both his hands are holding his wine glass though he held confidence in his speech. It felt like just us two in the room, his words giving tone of a very intimate moment shared between two bestfriends. I bit my bottom lip, can't seeming to stop smiling.

"And though you'll be off writing more amazing music with different amazing artists - only temporarily - know that I'll always be rooting for you and always will be -"

He breaks eye contact for a moment, but that moment was enough. "- will be uhm, proud of you." His smile grows ten times wider and he sounds relieved when he looks off onto the entrance of the venue as someone arrives. His eyes go back and forth, distracted but wanting to finish what he had left to say.

"Through thick and thin, love, you always were able to be there for me."

At that point he was fully looking at the person who arrived and I didn't have the guts to turn around to see who it was. My smile instantly dies and the warmth in my chest was just filled with a familiar pang that hasn't left all this time.

Because there she was, though out of breath and all over the place, just looked perfect as she grins and mouths 'happy birthday' to him while he haphazardly continues empty compliments that are now meant for her. My vision is blurry but my eyes are stuck on the actual person he deems important in his life. This lovely being who canceled last minute but makes it in time so he'd be truly happy.

He meant to say all of it to her. You just happened to be here when she wasn't. He doesn't love you like he loves her and he never will. He never had.

It was hard looking back at him, already knowing the way he looks at her. It was deja vu. She shows up and he's instantly mesmerized.

But I did and it suddenly was all too much. Because he glanced at me when he was saying his last words, seeing me silently cry in the middle of the crowd and looking distraught. And it all grew too claustrophobic, needing to get away and leave because all I felt now was anger.

"Hey, you okay?" Gemma asks, her brows furrowed in concern. I force a smile and nodded before excusing myself. "Yeah, just fine."

                                                         ***

 I pushed open the door and quickly walked out of the lobby and onto the parking lot, ignoring the distant calls of my name that grew louder and louder. I hugged my coat, trying to breathe but grew more frustrated with the growing ache in my chest. I sobbed, knowing he was catching up and didn't have the energy to deal with him right now.

"Hey, what happened - are you okay?" Harry had took hold of my arm, turning me around and all I could do was push him away. "Bubs, talk to me please."

"Stop, please I'm so tired and I physically can't be near you." I softly said, not bothering to wipe away tears anymore. He looks confused and I only scoffed at him, crossing my arms and moving back when he stepped closer, holding out his.

"What do you mean? Please let me- you're crying." He tries coming closer but I shake my head, dodging his embrace because I knew I would instantly melt.

"Yes, I'm crying! I've been crying and hurting all month because of you Harry!" I cried and he instantly freezes. "You keep doing this shit and all this time I've been coming up with excuses for it. That- I don't know, maybe that you can't help what you're feeling or that I really can't blame you- but now I do! Because you know exactly what you're doing and it's so shitty that I had to realize it this late."

"W-what are you talking about?" He's nervous.

"Oh shut the fuck up you know exactly what I'm talking about. You've avoided actually talking ever since we kissed, even before Heather came back into the picture. You completely pushed me to the side the second she gave you her attention and ever since then our whole relationship has changed Harry! And either you're so fucking oblivious or too much of a coward to face it because you just acting like everything was fine and normal broke my fucking heart even more. It obviously meant so little to you but fuck, it-"

I took a deep breathe only resorting to another sob as I placed a hand over my heart. "It meant so much to me."

I see him crying too, fumbling with his fingers and trying to hold those tears in only to lose some as he's stood still, not knowing what to do. He's guilty, his need to hold me and cry gives it away but I couldn't allow him that. And he knows it's something he doesn't deserve.

"I would of understood Harry. That you didn't feel the same fireworks and butterflies like I did when we kissed - as cliché as it fucking is. That you've fallen in love with Heather when she came back because I honestly still can't blame you for that, she's an angel. That you can't control who you love, but you never said anything. You just lead me on and didn't talk to me - why didn't you just fucking talked to me Harry, aren't we supposed to be best friends?"

He's now only inches away from me, taking hold of my hands because I was too worn out to even pull them back. "Yes! Yes, we are and I'm a stupid idiot. I'm sorry I- I should of just been upfront with you but I was so confused- and I still am. I just- I meant everything I said earlier and more because I'm always thinking about you bubs-"

I laugh at this shaking my head, not allowing anymore hope to built up. "I am! Mitch and Jeff are so fucking tired of hearing about it, but honestly so was I. But only because Heather was still in my heart and I just didn't know what to do or wanted and please believe me, I never ever wanted to hurt you."

"Why did you kiss me then?" I broke out of his hold, stepping back once again.

"I don't know darling, It just felt right and I didn't think. I-I just thought you'd leave if you knew I wasn't sure."

"Being honest about it with your supposed best friend was going to make it worse?"

"I just...I didn't want to lose you."

"But what now? you got her back, so what am I to you now? Was I supposed to be your distraction, the only option left for you to turn to? Because you fully well know that I'd drop everything I was doing just to comfort you when you were low Harry. I canceled set plans and promises because you simply asked me too, and I did since I'd always foolishly put you first because I thought you'd genuinely liked me."

"Bubs-"

"Don't. Harry you can't just put me on the side and come back to me later on if your relationships don't work out, that's not fucking fair! Ever since we met all I've been getting from you are mixed signals and I couldn't confront you about it because you'd always avoid the topic, making me feel damn silly for even thinking that way. It's just-  you can't build up expectation of something between us simply because I'm the safe second option - fuck that hurts saying that."

"I- I didn't mean to make you feel that way-"

"Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing Harry. You're just to arrogant to own up to it. So fucking immature, all you had to do was talk!"

"Okay, okay I'm sorry let's talk, please! Don't walk away like this, we can talk now and fix this."

"No. You only want to talk now because it's convenient for you. That's the thing Harry."

"Stop-"

"You say you didn't want to hurt me, but you didn't want to hurt yourself first. And I just- I just hate how long it took me to realize how mean you are Harry."

"Don't call me Ha- you don't mean that."

"I do! and you know it too." He's struck by it and I'm giving up. Hurt is evident in his face and it doesn't feel good to make him sad, but now all I feel is disappointment and pity for myself.  

"Since you couldn't have the balls to talk to me, I just always really wanted to tell you that I love you. Really fucking love you. As if you didn't already know, but... I guess it never really even mattered."

He calls my name deflatingly when I turn around, walking away. His last attempts of apologizing and begging for me to come back to him drift off into empty words that I block out as I stepped into my car and drove away. The time it takes for me to drive felt like days pass, but now turned to seconds when I turned off the engine and idled inside. I was still crying, still processing, all while replaying our last moment together. The one spent on the floor of the recording studio with a makeshift picnic before I spend the next days erasing it from my memory.

I sent him a text before going inside, turning off my phone right afterwards to avoid the rest of the incoming calls and text messages begging to fix what was left of us.

'I'll email you the lyrics to the last song tomorrow. Then I'm done.'

____________________________________________________________

A/N: i’m hurting. but this is the second to last chapter of this mini-series, pt4 is the finale and will be out soon :)

[killian-spey]

Death Would be Kinder [ch.1]

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2626

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. [Ch.1 takes place in BtVS S2 Ep14]

TW/CW: Kidnapping, Violence, Nightmares.

AN: Check out the [Prologue] first if you haven’t already! :D

Tags: @prose-for-hire , (Comment below or send an ask to be added!)

You had run through the sewers for hours before you pulled yourself out of a manhole halfway across town. Escaping from the factory had worn you out completely, and you made your way home, hoping that Angel and Buffy had done the same.

When you got home, Jenny was asleep on the couch. It looked as though she'd been waiting up all night for you. You tucked a blanket over her and took her empty tea mug to the kitchen before going upstairs, where you flopped into bed and immediately found sleep.

You opened your eyes in the dark and two stormy grey eyes were staring into yours. You sat up confused as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A moment passed, then a new pair blinked into existence; they were blue, cold and unmoving. Their faces grew recognizable and a pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. Spike was leaning against your window sill. Drusilla was laying on your bed, reaching for you with one hand. You stumbled backwards with a yelp, falling onto your floor. Yellow eyes flashed once in your peripheral and then everyone was gone, just as quickly as they'd all appeared.

As you stood up, you found yourself in the factory. It was brighter here, but cold and empty. You spun, looking for an exit. Flashes of images knocked you off balance like punches. A red dress, flowing ribbon, blonde hair, black hair, crooked smiles, pointed teeth. Bells rang in your head, you saw a wheelchair, then painted red nails, then a ridged face. Your head was spinning. You were spinning. Faster and faster until you felt nauseous.

It stopped suddenly. A single thought pierced your adrenaline-rushing head. Soon-

You opened your eyes with a gasp, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was morning and your alarm was going off. You stayed there a few minutes, snoozing the alarm so you could let your heart catch up with reality -or rather slow down to reality- before you got ready for the day and hopped in the car with your sister. Seems Buffy wasn’t the only one having bad dreams about vampires that should've been dead. Lucky you...

As it turns out, Buffy and Angel didn’t check in after last night’s screw up at the factory; thankfully Buffy came into school a couple minutes later to confirm she was still alive. The same couldn’t be said for Angel though, so tensions were high among the Scoobies while researching the Judge.

You were asked to use your artistic skills to draw the Judge to the best of your memory while the others looked into tomes with written references. The world tended to pass you by when you were drawing, so you almost didn’t notice when your sister left the library. She had been summoned by your Uncle, but for what you didn’t know. Not long after, the lights went out.

You stalked out of the library, seeing Xander, Willow, and Angel in the lobby of the school just down the hall. Willow was making her way towards Angel when-

“Willow, get away from him.” Jenny came from the left, holding up a cross as she stepped towards Angel. Oh. Oh no. You pulled a stake from your belt and called out to Willow as calmly as you could muster.

“Willow, walk back towards me.”

“What are you two talking about? It’s just A-”

Angel lunged forward and grabbed Willow by the neck. Familiar yellow eyes peered out of the darkness of the hallway as Willow yelped, struggling against the choke hold.

“You’re not Angel anymore, are you?” Jenny walked closer to Angel.

“Wrong. I am Angel, at last.” He pulled Willow back away from Jenny, “I’ve got a message for Buffy.”

“Why don’t you give it to me yourself?”

The two of them exchanged words and fought, allowing Willow the opportunity to escape Angel’s clutches and join your huddled group on the outskirts of the fight. Buffy got shoved into the water fountain, dumbfounded as Angel walked out the door laughing. The fight was over as quickly as it started, and a blanket of stunned silence covered the whole group. After what felt like an eternity of numb, unmoving shock, you and Jenny gave each other a knowing look. You’d failed. Angel was gone.

You don’t remember how long you’d been sitting in the library, vaguely listening to the group tell Giles about the confrontation with Angelus. Jenny was trying to keep Giles from panicking, and you sat numbly with your guilt. You only looked up when Buffy fled the room, Giles calling after her. You wanted so badly to apologize, but if Buffy ever found out what you’d known, she might kill you herself. You excused yourself from the library, mumbling to Jenny that you’d be in the studio back home.

-----

The garage door creaked as you lifted it. Jenny had given you one of the car bays to use as an art studio while you lived in Sunnydale. Your studio was one of the only places you knew where you could truly be alone with yourself. Jenny had never judged you or your art. Ever since your parents died, she’d stepped up and been supportive of you. You brushed your hand along the top of your canvas stash, picking a large, almost square canvas and setting it on your easel.

Painting had been a way for you to cope with strong emotions for as long as you could remember, but with the events of today you felt lost. You sat on your stool in front of that blank white canvas for what must have been hours. You eventually decided that nothing could convey what you were feeling in the moment, so you decided to paint something the opposite.

You used cream-white, gold and rust to block out a background; it was light, idyllic, and serene. It would be a white-stone conservatory, full of hanging candles and lanterns with a mezzanine balcony covered in ivy. Over that you dropped bright, vibrant tones of yellows and reds and greens. You blocked them into the spaces you would put dancers in flowing gowns and painted blues where you would place their partners. It would be full of life. You stood back a moment, studying. The scene was missing something; joy and innocence, maybe. You place a few, short splotches of pinks and light yellows for younger girls. They were running in a small stampede, weaving through the forest of colorful silks on the dance floor- chasing after fairies or some magic that existed only in their imaginations. There it was. You had vague shapes and a vision, and you were intent on chasing it.

You painted all through the night, and well into the morning. Jenny had left for the school hours ago, but hadn’t said anything. The painting was finally done. You sat in your stool and wiped your hands on your jeans. It was done, you had worked for hours, you had cried for Angel, you had smiled for the imaginary children, and for a moment you were satisfied... Then you noticed it.

In the center of your painting was a lone dancer. She wore a red gown with dark lace over the bodice and had equally dark hair. Your painting was somewhat post-impressionist, preferring interesting shapes over pinpoint detail, but it was unmistakable. In a ballroom of strangers, you’d painted her. Drusilla. You didn’t know what to think about that.

You stared at Drusilla in the painting, stuck in an introspective daze until a creaking sound pulled you back to reality. Your uncle had opened the garage door and stepped into the studio bay with two cups of coffee. You pulled up a stool for him and he handed you one, sitting beside you in front of the painting.

“Janna called,” he began cautiously. “She is on her way home with your friend, Buffy. I don’t know how, but she knows.”

“She’s going to hate me for this,” You scanned the sweeping lines of a yellow skirt somewhere else on your painting, trying not to let the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

The door to the garage opened behind you both and you looked down into your mug, anxiously tapping your nail against the ceramic. You couldn’t bear to look Buffy in the eyes, your guilt returning in full force.

Your uncle lit a pipe and stood up as he spoke,

“She told me you would be coming. I suppose you want answers,”

“Not really.” The voice wasn’t Buffy’s.

You snapped your head towards the door to find Angelus leaning against the door frame, blocking your exit. You scrambled, picking up a fistful of wooden paint brushes off your work table in a desperate search for weapons. You spun back towards Angelus just in time to watch him snap your uncle’s neck. An arm smacked against your leg as he dropped onto the concrete floor- a sensation you would no doubt remember the rest of your life. You snapped a large paintbrush in half to give it a pointier edge, but Angelus grabbed your wrist before you could even make a move on him. This was the sickening moment you realized just exactly how tall Angelus was. Exactly how far above he loomed over you.

“Ah, ah.” He tutted at you with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to go angering the guy who holds your life in his hands, now would you?” He twisted your wrist until you let go of the brush, then wrapped his other hand around your throat and pushed you onto the worktable.

“You know, it really is embarrassing that you’re so darn fragile!”

He was laughing, but he was right. In comparison you were a mouse fighting a lion, you had no chance against him. You clawed fruitlessly at his hand, but he just squeezed harder. Your vision was already fuzzing out, and it was getting difficult to even see Angelus’ face clearly as he taunted you.

“Oh, stop squirming, you’ll be unconscious in a minute, kid. Lucky for you, I need some bait. So you get to live for a while, isn’t that exciting?!” His voice was giving you something tangible to focus on, but it was no use. Another moment and you were unconscious.

-----

Your head pounded like a drum when you woke up. You opened your eyes, but it took a while for them to adjust to the dim light. You tried to rub your eyes, but your hands were tied down to the armrests of the chair you were sat in. Your eyes darted around for any sign of Angelus, but found none. Everything was empty. Silent. Against your better judgement, you called out into the empty factory.

“Hello?”

You waited. No one responded, but you felt you were being watched.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you heard a small, soft melody coming from behind you. Humming. Your heartbeat kicked up a notch as you scanned the room.

“I can hear you going pitter-patter from here,” Drusilla had spoken from a place you couldn’t see. You heard each of her footsteps click closer and closer behind you until you could feel her standing just inches away. You let out a shaky breath and she shushed you quietly.

She ran her hands through your hair, dragging long red fingernails across your scalp. She began detangling your hair with her fingers, idly humming once again. You let your head tip back as she picked lightly at a particularly bad snag, dismantling it and continuing her exploration of your hair. By now you’d noticed you were crying, silently terrified and unnerved by the ministrations of the vampire behind you. She yanked a new snag in your hair and you couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped you.

“Is the doll hurting?” She pulled her hands away when she realized you weren’t going to answer her. She walked agonizingly slowly around your chair, stopping directly in front of you. “It’s rude to ignore people.” You stared at the floor, avoiding her gaze. You did notice, however horrified, that she was wearing a new, yet familiar, red dress with black lace.

You could feel her staring down at you, almost willing you to look at her. When you didn’t, she dropped to her knees to meet your eye line, resting her cheek on your knee. You studied her face as she ghosted her hand up and down your left thigh, occasionally picking at the smatterings of paint that were still all over your jeans.

“You’re an artist. I like artists,” She picked up her head and you chuckled nervously as she looked at you. In a morbid way, you were glad she liked you, whatever that meant. It might mean I live a little longer.

You looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably, then scanned the room for an escape, for something, anything you could do. She dragged her finger from your thigh up to your neck as she looked up at you. For a moment, you were scared she’d slice your throat, but she wrapped her hand around your jaw and pulled your face down gently to look at her.

“You’ll be my little pet Artist. We’ll have lots of fun together,” She stared into your eyes with a dangerous smile. She rubbed her thumb against your jawline -her hand still holding your face as she stood up- until she burst into a fit of giggles. She dropped your face and pulled her hands together, close to her chest, as she walked backwards a few paces.

As if she’d sensed him coming, Spike rolled into the room and stopped his chair just next to you. Drusilla gracefully perched herself on Spike’s lap and after a few minutes of flirting, Angelus came down the spiral staircase with the Judge, who voiced that he was ready to leave.

“About time.” Spike gave Drusilla a kiss and told her to have fun.

“Too bad you can’t come with, huh?” Angelus was taunting Spike and -despite your fear- you were studying the interactions for a better understanding of the relationships at play. Spike was staying behind under the pretense of watching you, but it was a thinly veiled jab at his current handicap. You watched silently as Angelus practically stole Drusilla off Spike’s lap before they left the factory. Spike stared at the doorway they'd left from for a while before he glanced back at you, staring at him. You dropped your eyes immediately, but it was too late.

“What are you lookin’ at?” He wheeled himself to the other side of the table.

“I won’t be in this chair forever. I’ll get back at him.”

“Of course you will.”

He squinted at you, probably just as surprised as you that’d you’d actually spoken back at him. He turned his chair and got up close to you again, murder glinting behind his eyes.

“Are you being funny? ‘Cause I could kill you in half a second, you know.”

“No, no jokes,” You shook your head at him, weakly lifting your hands within your restraints in surrender. The last thing you wanted was for him to prove just how tough he still is.

“Good, cause I would,” he pointed his finger at you as he continued on, “...kill you, I mean.”

“Right.” You squinted, processing.

“You’d do well to remember that.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded awkwardly. He stared at you about 7 seconds longer than he needed to before huffing and rolling off to another room. As soon as you were alone, you sighed in relief and stared up at the ceiling; only one thought in your mind.

Oh. My. God.

[bonny-kookoo]

Lavender Love (JJK x Reader) 💐💜🔞

🦋 Pairing: Florist!Jeon Jungkook x Mute!Reader

🦋 Genre: Florist!AU, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers AU, smut

• Selective mutism : a severe anxiety disorder where a person is unable to speak in certain social situations, such as with classmates at school or to relatives they do not see very often. It usually starts during childhood and, if left untreated, can persist into adulthood.

🦋 Warnings: mentions of past trauma (no mentions of what exactly), anxiety attack, it’s not romanticized in this so it’s no ‘hero in shining armor knows what to do’ kinda thing, mentions of vomiting and overall just a very uncomfortable situation, Jungkook is actually kinda lost, mutual pining, awkward reader, very very VERY soft smut, like Jesus Christ it’s so sweet, mentions of therapy, hopeless romantic kook, he researched so much just so he can help :(, protective Kook!

🦋 Summary: words only hurt people around you, so when you meet this kind florist while picking up your friends order, you swear to yourself to never speak a word to him. He however, seems to have different plans.

(Again, I want to point out that anxiety attacks are a real thing, and hardly ever ‘just pass’. If you’re uncomfortable with these things, please skip this fic as it is a major part of the story. Everyone experiences these things differently, things depicted in this are personal experiences. If you think you have problems like this, please seek professional help. You’re not broken, you maybe just need a little hand to guide you back on track. Stay safe everyone 💕)

This is a oneshot! If you have any asks, Ideas, or drabble requests for this universe, throw them my way!

You don't remember the last word you spoke to a stranger.

It's probably hidden somewhere, and you'd find it if you really searched for it, however, you didn't really crave to be remembered about what happened afterwards. It didn't matter these days anyways.

You don't remember your school days.

Again, these memories are there, you know it. Yet you've turned them around like a picture hanging on a wall, neatly framing an incident that scarred you to the point of seemingly no return. It didn't matter these days anyways.

You pull your facemask a bit as you waited at the red light, folded paper in your hand, which was hidden in the front pocket of your sweater. People around you didn't really look at you, not caring, and you favored it greatly. You felt your fingers get clammy however, the closer you got to the corner store. Hopefully Miss Jung was there; she knew your mother, and didn't really mention your habit of silence much. Hopefully.

But the closer you got, the more you felt your skin grow cold.

That was not miss Jung.

You desperately wanted to text Yoongi, telling him that you couldn't pick up his order, but he was sick, he needed someone to do it, and you knew you could do it- you had to start somewhere. Your therapist had praised you last month so greatly, telling you how good you were getting at conversing, even if it was just through text or post it notes- it was more than you did a few years ago. But your feet slowed down, hands beginning to shake. You stood against the wall near the entrance, evening out your breathing as you tried to ground yourself again.

You could do this.

Entering the store, familiar bell ringing, you felt a bit more calm as the scent of the various flowers filled your nose. You'd often stayed under the counter when Miss Jung had been working when you were young, her presence calming to you as she didn't care about your 'issues' as others had called it. She always let you make flower crowns and tiny rings, showing you what every one of them meant, uncaring that you never answered her. She always said your smile was enough.

"Hello! How can I help you?" He asked in a friendly manner. His voice was melodic, probably nice to listen to whenever he talked away, making you slightly jealous. Your own was weak, fragile from lack of use. He smiled at you as you hesitantly walked forwards, unfolding the note Yoongi had written and placing it down in front of him, making him pick it up, reading it. "Oh? Lazy gramps can't pick them up himself?" He chuckled, and you wanted to disagree, yet you stopped the thought while it formed. "Ah, I'll get them for you, but are you sure you can carry them all yourself? There's multiple boxes, and eh-" He began, grinning before picking at his skin on his jaw. "-not to be mean but you're kinda short." He said, and your eyes widened. You shook your head, and he leaned his to the side. "No? No what?" He asked, and you began to grow uncomfortable. Your gaze shifted towards the note, pointing towards it, then at yourself, before you nodded. "I eh.." He trailed off, before he smiled encouragingly. "Ah, you're shy? Don't be, I don't bite!" He playfully said, and you could feel the tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

It was unfair really. You wished you could be more open, tell him all you wanted to say, be just as confident as he was being- yet here you were, confusing the guy to no ends just because you couldn't open your mouth. It was pathetic, really, and before you knew you felt the tears gather. You were growing frustrated, hands growing clammy as you tightened them into fists, breathing becoming uneven as you desperately tried to calm yourself. "Ah- you're okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He tried, hand on your shoulder not helping one bit. He was now confused, maybe even scared, and it was your fault. Why were you being so difficult? Why couldn't you just tell him like every other normal person could? Oh yeah, because you weren't. You were absolutely fucked up, useless for society, not even able to work a proper job-

"Y/N?" The voice sounded dull, as if someone held their hands over your ears, the rushing of your own blood drowning out everything else as your hands and feet became rigid, frozen in place by the overflow of oxygen. "Jungkook dear, please give her space- Y/N sweetheart, can you hear me?" You knew she was talking, but her voice wasn't reaching you at all as the tears fell, sobs wrenching your gut to the point of feeling sick. "Oh sweetheart, come on, quick-" She hurried, unnoticed by you helping your locked body outside through the backdoor with Jungkooks help, who had a worried look on his face as he watched the scene unfold. "Jungkook dear, can you get me a bucket real quick?" He nodded, dashing off to clumsily get a small water bucket, cursing as he knocks down several others, glad that there wasn't another costumer. He got back just in time for Miss Jung to manage to hold the purple plastic container underneath your face as your body shook, bringing back up whatever you'd eaten in its absolute frenzy. "Shh, its okay.." She hummed, before addressing the boy again. "Can you cut some lavender please? A branch should be enough." She asked, as he nodded again, eyes barely leaving your figure. Was that his fault? What did he do wrong? "Jungkook." Miss Jung said to knock him back to reality, as he nodded, walking towards the several flowers as he took out the gardening scissors from his apron, cutting two small branches instead of one for good measure.

When he walked back outside the backdoor, you'd already laid on your side, Miss Jung carefully running her hand over your back as you seemed to still have issues breathing properly, sobs still present as you choked on air. He wordlessly gave his boss what she'd asked for, as he watched her rub the flowers between her hands, the scent filling your nose slowly. It helped after a moment, slowly calming your senses back down, exchanging your now returning sense of hearing and vision with a raging headache. "I'm so sorry I-" He began, but miss Jung sent him a look, shaking her head. She'd just managed to bring you back, she didn't need to throw you back into the circle again.

"Jungkook, can you go help the costumers please?" She asked as she heard the bell, and he hesitantly nodded, before returning.

Well, this ended well.

The next day, Yoongi had you by his side as he stepped inside the flower shop. "Hel- Ah! You!" Jungkook exclaimed, making you shrink in on yourself, readying yourself for whatever he had to say. Yoongi however, voice raspy from his cold, cut him off.

"Yah you idiot, can you ever just do what you're told?" He exclaimed, as Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, fluffy hair falling a bit to the side from the movement. "You got my shit?" He asked, and you gently pulled at his sleeve, a sign that he should at least stop cursing. "Sorry." He mumbled down to you as Jungkook watched the silent exchange with interest. Yoongi coughed, snapping the younger boy back to his senses as he walked to the back, coming back with two boxes. "Thanks." Yoongi simply answered, holding both boxes even though he could see the question in your eyes. You both got ready to leave, as Jungkook stopped you.

"Wait!" He said, rummaging around underneath the counter before he pulled out a tiny envelope, wrapped with a purple ribbon, holding it out to you. "As uhm.. a sorry. For yesterday. I didn't know." He offered, and you took it, nodding. So now he knew. Great. He simply waved, as Yoongi bumped you with his elbow, signaling you to go.

In the car, the older boy suddenly sniffed. "Did he pack the wrong flowers or why does it smell so much like lavender?" He asked, and you shrugged, before remembering the gift. Opening the ribbon, you found a small sheer bag, dried seeds of lavender inside, as well as a note.

'Miss Jung said, writing is easier. So if I didn't screw up yesterday, text me? :) '

"That fucker!" Yoongi laughed before coughing again, making you smile a bit. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

It meant exactly what he said. He genuinely started to reach out to you after you'd texted him your number, sending you random pictures of bouquets he did during the day, of scenery he encountered on his way to or off work, memes, or simply asking you how your day was. He slowly found out more and more about you, never really asking why you didn't speak- because the more he began to unravel your personality, the less he cared about that. He found out that you liked sports, you played in a soccer team, and worked as an online tech support from home. He thought of it as absolutely the coolest thing ever, even asking to see a game of yours if you'd let him.

Which had led to this moment.

Jungkook was sitting down, several girls side-eyeing him as they wondered why he was there. His dark attire and several piercings, as well as the ink painting his arm that he'd exposed due to the heat as he'd rolled up the sleeves of his sweater completely covering up the fact that he actually worked with delicate things such as tiny flowers, able to make the best flower crowns of all time. He denied their request to sit with them, texting you instead that he was there, and where he sat. He watched as you read his message before looking up, finding him as he grinned, waving. You meekly waved back, shy smile on your lips as he heard the whispers from his side. He gave them a look to shut them up, before leaning forward, eager to see you in action.

He was mesmerized as he saw you run, every step you took seemingly perfectly timed and placed. You were the shortest one out of your team, but that did not put you at a disadvantage at all it seemed; you ducked under another player trying to push you almost expertly, making him jump up and push his fist into the air in victory as you scored.

When you were done with your game, he'd already walked down the stairs, meeting you as you smiled at his figure, a bit taken aback by his choice of clothing. He always made sure to cover up his tattoos in the flowershop, Miss Jung not too fond of him scaring away costumers who had a more traditional view on things. He held up his hand before lowering it a bit for you to properly hit it in a high five, internally beaming at the fact that you'd slowly grown more comfortable with him. He carried your bag for you, shaking away his stray strands of hair that had fallen into his face from the slight wind. "Ah, here." He remembered, giving you your facemask back, remembering that you always liked to wear it so people thought you were maybe sick and just didn't talk because of that. But after months with him; you didn't need it anymore. So you simply took it from him, putting it into your pocket. His eyes widened a bit but he smiled afterwards, actually growing a bit shy.

And he almost tripped over his own feet as he felt your tiny hand grab his to hold.

"Oh Y/N! Jungkook is already changing. He said you're both going on a date?" Miss Jung winked at you, making you look down shyly, fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt a bit as you nodded. He'd asked you out a few days ago, immediately replying that you could also just stay at his or your place, and that you didn't have to go out. You'd thanked him for it, and you both decided to simply get a shit ton of junk food to take home to his place, planning on watching a short movie and maybe playing some video games after. "I'm happy. He's a good guy, but don't tell him I said that, his ego is too inflated already, that poor boy!" She hummed, as Jungkook whined from behind her.

"Yah, my ego isn't inflated at all, what are you saying?!" He said while pouting, making you chuckle a but under your breath. He smiled, walking up to you as he waved at miss Jung. "Thanks for closing the shop, we'll be on our way then!" He exclaimed, and she just nodded, smile genuine on her lips.

"So!" He said, stretching his arms above his head before he took your hand, walking across the street with you as he led you both to a fast food place close by. "I thought about The Cat Returns tonight?" He asked, and you nodded, happy with his choice. Against the stigma floating around him judged by his attire and collections of tattoos and piercings, Jungkook was actually a huge fan of Studio Ghibli and everything romantic. He was a bit cheesy, but you'd grown to appreciate it- maybe even love it. The more you both conversed and spend time together, the closer you felt yourself getting with him- without forcing yourself to. It just came natural with him, the hand holding not making you feel weird or as if people were staring, his jacket around your shoulders never feeling heavy. Being close to him was comforting, hearing his voice was soothing, being with him was.. like your personal stack of lavender, always ready to calm your nerves.

So when you were walking to his place, apartment still a bit foreign to you since you'd only visited him a handful of times, you didn't feel any pressure. You simply took off your shoes, immediately greeting his two pet rabbits in his living room, crouching down to pet them. "I feel like you only love me for my pets." He explained playfully scandalized, making you grin as you continued to run your hand over the soft fur.

"Alright!" He'd exclaimed as everything was set on the table, his arms on the back of his couch. "Will you stay with them or actually sit down with me? I'm getting lonely." He whined, and you rolled your eyes before you skipped to the couch, stumbling a bit as he chuckled, catching you as you almost fell onto his lap. "Easy there tiger, and here I thought you wanted to take things slow." He laughed, voice low as he turned on the movie, very aware of the blush coating your cheeks.

It started to cover his own soon as well however, as you slowly but surely started to cuddle up to him.

A kiss was what started it. One, then two, and the third deepened the feeling of want. You thought you'd feel pressured, hesitant, shy, or maybe even scared- but you didn't. This was Jungkook. And Jungkook was your safe place.

"Wait.." He hesitantly said, eyes almost shut in a way as if he was hurt, holding your shoulders as he looked at you. "I- I'm sorry, I don't know what came over myself there.." He chuckled, shifting a bit as he suddenly pulled on his sweater to hide his growing erection. He'd never been ashamed of it in the past, but now, it seemed out of place. It felt as if it made him look like he couldn't wait, as if he was impatient, or taking advantage of the situation. You simply took the receipt of the food, turning it around as you clicked the ballpoint pen on his table, writing.

'It's okay. I want to.'

His eyes widened as he got more serious. "You don't have to. I can totally wait." He said, a gentle smile on his lips as he watched you write another line.

'There's no one I'd rather go this far with.'

His heart began to beat heavier, if that made sense. It felt as if every beat was suddenly more meaningful, louder, more present than ever, as he watched you write.

'I'm yours.'

You gently laid the pen down, now looking at him as he smiled, kissing your lips again deeply as the thunderstorm outside raged on, lightning brightening the room for a second as he couldn't seem to stop kissing you. "Thank you." He hummed, before diving in again. "Thank you." He said again, before made you sit on his lap, straddling him as he chuckled in bliss. "I promise I'll take good care of you." He vowed as you'd closed your eyes, simply giving yourself to him as his hands held you safely. "Now, and forever." He whispered, before he stood up, strong arms underneath your bottom as he carried you out of the living room, into his dark bedroom that only occasionally lit up from the lightning outside. The rain hit the window harshly, yet he didn't seem to hear it at all as he let you fall on the mattress back first, chuckling as he almost fell on top of you, making you giggle.

The sound prominent in his ears as he swore he could've cried.

"You sound so beautiful." He hummed against your neck, his words never wiping the smile off of your face as he moved you to lay down properly, clothes slowly loosing purpose as every item slowly met the floor with a soft thud. He praised every curve, every flaw you saw in yourself as he closed his eyes in pure bliss, no need for visual confirmation to know that you were perfect to him. For the first time in forever you felt free, completely safe and guarded as he moved above you, silent gasps and sighs the only thing present as he stood up for a moment, having to search for a condom before he met you on the bed again, giggling like school kids caught doing mischief as he struggled to open the package, making you laugh at him.

He decided he loved that sound.

If someone was to ask him what he thought your voice sounded like, his first reply would genuinely be that he did not care. It wasn't mandatory in what you both had, he'd learned that over the months and months he'd spent with you. Words surely made communication a bit simpler, but he didn't need them to show you his love and adoration for you. It proved his worth way better than words ever could.

Wrapping the safety over his length he kissed you again, seemingly hooked on the simple gesture as he held himself with one hand, the other one guiding him into you, slowly, as to not make it hurt.

He'd never hurt you.

He didn't rush, there was no need to. This wasn't about reaching a goal, a high, or any end of some sorts. He simply relished in being close to you, in the huge amount of trust you gave him willingly, naturally. He felt honored, as cheesy as it sounded, he felt as if there was no bigger achievement in his life than knowing that you gave yourself into his arms simply because you cherished him just as much as he did you. He held you tightly against him as he slowly moved, pace slow and almost lazy as you slightly squirmed and reached around his shoulders, holding him close as well, both of you existing, nothing more.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you, maybe it was the high of his own happiness in knowing that he held your heart, but he soon felt himself grow sensitive, hand reaching between your bodies to roll your pear between his inked fingers, making you mewl underneath him.

He decided he loved that sound as well.

Your back arched as you came undone underneath him, clenching center helping his own release to happen shortly after. He gasped out, catching his breath as he rested his forehead against yours, suddenly laughing as if he was drunk. And he kind of was; drunk on the realization that this had indeed happened, that he actually was here, holding you, having you all for himself. He slipped out of you after a moment, pulling the condom off of himself as he tied it and threw it into the bin close to his bed, before slipping underneath his blankets, holding you close, sighing in gentle comfort as no words were spoken. Until you moved a bit, lips close to his ear, as you whispered.

"I love you."

And he decided, he loved that sound most of them all.

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Four - The hues in our hair compliment one another

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy watches as the guests walk in, gawking at the decorations that he, Katherine and Gem put so much effort into. Pride fills his chest - a week of hard work paying off in happy citizens and rulers alike. Jimmy nods politely to Iris as they walk in, he knows that being one of Pix’s advisors means that the dryad doesn’t get much time off, so he hopes that they enjoy themself.

A group of dryads bow to him before they disappear into the crowd, which makes him happy - he’s still recognisable with the mask that Katherine gave him. It’s a standard masquerade mask, though it has small cod painted on it in bronze paint, though it has a white veil attached the the lower half to cover his face. It was nice of Katherine, to remember that he prefers to hide his face.

He feels safe with his face hidden.

Jimmy watches as a young woman in a black cloak comes in, and an axolotl hybrid from his empire chats with a man from Mezalea. He’s glad that they opened to ball not only to the leaders of the empires but their citizens as well, and a fae man in a forest green vest dances with a spirit in a ribbon skirt.

The doors open, distracting Jimmy from people watching for a moment.

Lizzie walks in, the necklace around her neck shimmering in the glow from the purple lanterns. Jimmy watches as everyone gawks at the wedding gift that he gave her - it’s rare to see her wear it out of battle. The necklace has two axolotls, one made of rose quartz and the other of red jasper, curled around a pearl and inset in silver. It was handcrafted by the finest artisans of the Cod Empire, and Jimmy himself carefully enchanted it with healing and protection.

The best wedding gift she received, if Jimmy does say so himself.

“You clean up nicely, did Katherine give you that suit?” Lizzie teases, pointedly ignoring the stares she receives as she walks across the room to him.

“You’ll find that your husband did, for your wedding.” Jimmy smiles. “Though I did get it altered slightly for the party.”

“You didn’t put slime in it, did you?”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy gasps, pushing his sisters arm in rage. She laughs, ignoring his fake rage.

“I’m very glad you ditched the cod head.” She says. “I think Katherine would have killed you.”

“She actually gave me this mask.” Jimmy admits. 

“Ohh, look at Scott’s outfit.” Lizzie says, and Jimmy turns back to the crowd. 

Scott stands next to Joey, looking mildly uncomfortable. The king of the lost empire wears a red suit with a black crown, rubies and jaspers adorning it. But Joey’s outfit pales in comparison to the one that Scott wears.

Scott’s wearing an intricate white top, with long sleeves that bell out at the end. He has a high waisted skirt, fading from a sky blue into a deep, ocean blue. He looks like he’s stepped out of a high fantasy story, a golden crown shimmering in his blue hair. He looks stunning, making Jimmy feel almost as though he’s underdressed.

Scott makes eye contact with Joey, an emotion Jimmy doesn’t understand flashes in Scott’s eyes as he walks over to Jimmy.

“Lizzie, I think I’ve made him angry.” Jimmy mumbles, breaking eye contact with Scott. 

“He’s your land boy, you work it out.” Lizzie says. “I need to go find my land boy.”

“Scott isn’t mine, Lizzie - Don’t leave me!” Jimmy protests, but it’s already too late, the queen of the ocean has left Jimmy to whatever fate Scott has planned for him.

Hopefully Lizzie will hold a nice funeral for him.

“You look nice.” Scott says softly, barely audible over the music.

“Oh, thank you.” Jimmy says, the back of his neck reddening. “You clearly outclass everyone here.”

“You really think so?” Scott asks, his face red. Poor Scott, he mustn’t get complimented often. 

“I know so.” Jimmy smiles, though the man can’t see it.

“Could I ask you to dance?” Scott asks, offering Jimmy his hand. Jimmy blinks in surprise, looking into Scott’s eyes in shock. The elven man’s eyes glitter in the lantern light, light and full of something Jimmy can’t quite place.

Even so, Jimmy puts his hand into Scott’s, and lets the man pull him into a dance.

Scott’s hand rests on Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder, letting him lead. Scott, thankfully, doesn’t mention when Jimmy steps on his feet, the king just mumbling instructions to Jimmy as he leads them.

“You teach dances like this often?” Jimmy asks breathlessly, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Scott’s feet.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’m even teaching you this correctly.” Scott admits. “I’m not even sure this is a real dance.”

“This feels pretty real to me.” Jimmy says, his heart picking up. “Kind of familiar, like I’ve done it in a dream, but real?”

“This is dreamlike?” Scott asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimmy admits. “Do you think we could spin with this dance.”

“If you want to, then of course.” Scott says, spinning Jimmy around.

Jimmy giggles slightly, breathless as his hand falls onto Scott’s shoulder again. Scott leads them again, and Jimmy lets his feet go without thinking. It’s like the dance he had in his nightmare, with his shadow husband. Scott’s hand on his waist is comforting, a promise of safety, in a party of peace.

The music slows and they stop, breathless and hearts hammering. Jimmy takes his hand off of Scott’s shoulder, pulling away from his dance partner.

“I’m going to get a drink, you coming?” Jimmy offers. Maybe this could end with a new ally, a new friend.

“I need some air.” Scott admits, rubbing the back of his neck as though he’s nervous. “I’ll see you later?”

“See you soon.” Jimmy promises, smiling brightly at the elf.

The other man just nods, walking out of the room and up the stairs. Jimmy moves off of the dancefloor, avoiding bumping into people as he makes his way to the table, picking a prawn off of the table to eat while he looks for something to drink.

“Enjoying the food?” Pearl asks, startling Jimmy.

“It’s nice.” Jimmy says. “I love the prawns.”

“Thank you! I was hoping to get something from every empire.” Pearl says. “I’m glad I got something for you and Lizzie. Your empires were the hardest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I could have helped.” Jimmy apologises.

“Don’t be. Be more sorry that you didn’t tell Katherine about you and Scott. She’s rather excited that the prospect of you two being together.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, blinking.

“Oh, if it’s supposed to be a secret I’ll tell her to leave you two alone.” Pearl says, laughing. “Next time, though, don’t dance in a public ball like that. Rumours will spread!”

Jimmy stands confused, staring at the space that Pearl used to be in. He must be tired, why would anyone start a rumour about him and Scott? There’s nothing to talk about. They’re potentially friends, barely aquantinces. 

“I should find Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, walking in a daze towards the stairs. Scott must be on the balcony, right?

“Jimmy!” Pixl says, relief on his face. “You need to come with me. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “Why are we leaving?”

“Emergency at Lizzie’s empire, she’s asked that we both attend.” Pixl says, grabbing Jimmy’s hand and dragging him out. 

“What’s the emergency?” Jimmy asks, waving goodbye to Pearl and Gem at the door. The two of them share relieved looks as Pixl drags Jimmy further away.

Lizzie and Joel stand in the middle of the courtyard, holding a spare pair of elytra that they put of Jimmy’s shoulders as Pixl straps himself into his own elytra. Jimmy straps the elytra on, wriggling uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Gem told us to go home.” Lizzie says. “Sausage and Fwip are up to no good, apparently.” 

“Pixl said that there was an emergency at your empire?”

“I lied.” Pixl says. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“Look as funny as this is we have to go.” Joel says, pushing Jimmy and Pixl slightly.

The group takes off, flying into the sky. Guilt eats at Jimmy the further they fly away, and he turns back to look at the hall. Did anyone warn Scott that Sausage and Fwip were up to something?

He broke his promise to Scott.

----

“You look cute in the bunker.” The shadow says, sitting on the roof. Jimmy can just barely see out of it, and he knows that his husband wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?” Jimmy asks. “You don’t want to die.”

“I’m on my green life. I’m fine.” His husband says. “You’re the one we’ve got to worry about. Burning Dogwarts banner, really poppy?”

“I don’t want to see you sacrificed on any altar, petal.” Jimmy responds easily. “I’ll be fine, the bunker is safe and there’s an emergency exit.”

“Promise me you’ll come home.” His husband asks, standing up. 

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy responds. “In sickness and health. You’ll always have me by your side.”

Jimmy watches as the shadow people fight. It’s dreamlike, unreal to him. Swords clash and fires spread across a desert stained in blood. The dogwarts banner flies and burns and his allies are so outnumber it won’t ever be fair.

And a scream tears from his throat as his husband is shot.

His body dissipates, he’s not dead. Not permanently, but something is wrong. This world mustn’t have respawn, not the infinite respawn that it’s supposed to. Green life. First life. 

The love of his life is dead. He will come back, but he’s dead now.

“We want that banner!” A man yells, an enemy. There isn’t any winning this. He needs to get to him, to his husband, to his petal.

He’s shot through the throat on the ladder to the escape route.

Jimmy's screams echo through his empire. Not for the first time does he long for the embrace of someone who isn't even real

[hanjizung]

Unwrap.

Kim Seungmin x Reader.

Word count:  5.3K

♡ Warnings ♡: smut; oral (m), deepthroating, choking (but not really), fingering, creampie, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

My part for The Smutmas Collab, organized by @clandestine-lixie​, Merry Christmas, everyone. ♡

It was your first Christmas being Seungmin’s girlfriend, you’d been friends for years and you were already familiar with his other friends, but just that year he actually confessed his feelings for you, with a little help from Felix and Jisung, somehow. It was thanks to them that your relationship with Seungmin went to the next level, after all. You made a note to thank them and give them amazing gifts for their birthday months ago.

The guys had invited you over for a Christmas dinner, saying that they were saving the party for New Year's eve and you happily agreed to go celebrate with them since you were alone; your family lived out of the country and the cousin who moved there with you traveled for the holidays to visit her family too, this was your fourth Christmas living here.

Thankfully, you’d get to spend it with your magnificent boyfriend and your lovely common friends with Seungmin, who you loved almost as much as you loved him.

Walking out of the shower, you made your wear to your closet and picked up a box you had hidden for almost a month when you were first planning your Christmas dinner privately with Seungmin, before the rest of the boys sumed in and made your small, romantic dinner with your prince charming a bigger event. But you decided that wouldn’t ruin your night, you wanted to do something nice for Seungmin so your plan was going to still happen.

Taking the box in your hands, you placed it on your large bed and took the lid off, revealing what was inside. Your smile grew when your delicate hands took the piece of undergarment to examine it better; a red bra that had little red ribbons where your nipples were supposed to go made your cheeks become hotter. You let your towel fall to the ground, putting the pretty bra on and then doing the same with the small red panties that also had little red ribbons everywhere.

When you were done putting that on, you turned, phone in your hand and walked to the mirror to take a selfie, a little preview for Seungmin wouldn’t hurt, you thought while posing in front of your wall mirror from all the angles you could imagine; sitting on the floor, ass out, squeezing your boobs together with your arms, biting your lip… it would be hard to choose only one to send to him, but you’d manage to chose.

A notification got your attention, it was a message from the man who lived in your mind rent free; 'Changbin and I are on our way to pick you up.’ it said.

You smiled. If he was coming with Changbin only, that meant there was no much exposure danger if you sent him a picture. You knew what your answer would be.

‘got it.’

‘wanna see what ill wear?’

You browsed through your recent pictures without waiting properly for his answer. He always told you yes, you knew he loved you as much to never deny anything to you.

Pressing send, you sat on the bed excitedly waiting for his response. You saw when the message was received and when Seungmin read it. The little dots indicating that he was writing something made you smile happily.

‘Wow… '

'Baby, that looks amazing’

‘Does that mean that you’re my present?’

‘I can NOT wait to get to your home and unwrap you’

Leaving him on read, you walked to your closet to pick the dress you were saving for this special occasion and put it on. It was comfortable, kind of short but you were going to wear thighs to protect yourself from the cold, and finally a pair of boots.

Proceeding to put makeup on for this special day, you started the process like you always did when getting ready for a date.

------

The bell rang just as you finished the tinier details of your makeup.

Opening the front door, you threw your arms around Seungmin’s neck, smiling widely at him and then letting him go, hugging Changbin as well but with less enthusiasm than the first hug you gave your boyfriend. After your greeting to the guys, you moved to the side to let them inside your cozy home.

“Just let me go for my coat and we can leave” you told them, hurrying to your room for both your pretty long coat and a bag that looked good with your whole outfit.

When you came back, Changbin had left already to turn on the car, so you took Seungmin's hand and let him guide you to where your other friend was waiting for you.

The trip in the supermarket took longer than expected; you knew it would be full, but didn't expect it to be that full, the lines to pay were stupidly long and there were people running everywhere with full shopping carts.

Half an hour later, Changbin was walking behind you and Seungmin who were walking hand to hand and with a bag of missing items that Minho had previously asked you to buy to make the dinner. When Seungmin opened the front door, his relieved expression was the first thing you saw after stepping in.

"We're here, we got everything you asked us to buy" Changbin exclaimed, placing his bag on the table and looking at the cat mom with a reassuring smile.

Seungmin took the bag in your hand, freeing you so you could greet the rest of your friends who were eager to greet you too.

Felix was the first one who made his way to you when he heard the front door open, hugging you so gently that it made your heart feel warm.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm so excited that you're helping us to make dinner!" Felix said happily, his smile almost lighting up the whole room.

"It's the least I can do since you all invited me to come" you hugged him again, planting a kiss on his cheek and making him laugh.

Jisung appeared behind him, pulling you towards him by the hand to hug you "I missed you, Y/N! How are you doing?" he asked politely, letting you go to study your features.

"I missed you too, Sungie! I've been good, I hope you've been good as well, right? It hasn't been that long before we saw each other" you laughed.

You were right, 3 nights ago Seungmin had asked you if you wanted to go to the movies, an invitation you had agreed right the moment he called you. But only to be surprised when you got to the movie theater to see your boyfriend talking with Jeongin and Jisung. It didn't annoy you, but you thought it would be a romantic date, only you and Seungmin.

"Y/N! Since you're here we can start this grand, fantastic dinner" Minho said as he walked out of the kitchen. You laughed when you saw what he was wearing, because above, protecting his normal clothes he had an apron with the words 'kiss the chef', it was your gift for him on his birthday.

Taking your coat off, you rolled your imaginary sleeves up and followed him along with the freckled aussie to start preparing everything for dinner. The plan was to make a turkey since they didn't celebrate Thanksgiving. Hyunjim had been the one suggesting it, saying that he had been wanting to try that.

Minho agreed, saying that it would be a challenge to do it. You remember how he turned to look at you to see how you reacted. You smiled, agreeing silently to his unspoken demand; your help.

The day was spent mostly in the kitchen; each of the boys showered and greeted you in the kitchen when they were finally in their dinner clothes except for Minho, Felix and Seungmin, the ones who were in charge of cooking.

Seungmin and Felix were going to bake a dessert for all of you, playing around with you and Minho. The dorms were filled with your laughs mostly, getting the attention of those who were sitting in the living room just looking at their phones.

You were sitting on the countertop next to Seungmin who was mixing everything Felix had thrown in the bowl, a smile on his face until the mix seemed to be ready

"Be careful mixing it or you'll get it everywhere and Minho will scold us" Felix warned Seungmin from the table. He was mixing another bowl, saying that he wanted to make a lot so everyone could try it.

"Yes, Minnie. I don't want Minho to get mad, I like having you here with me" you pouted at him.

And he didn't say anything, you just watched as he stuck a finger into the batter and brought it to your face, the liquid feeling cold on the tip of your nose. Your eyes got big, your cheeks got hotter and your eyebrows raised in clear surprise, your expression making Seungmin giggle at you. And later, he leaned into you, his clean thumb wiping the stain off your nose and then bringing it to your lips for you to lick his finger clean. You did what he wanted, eyes focused on him and his little devilish smile, but soon Minho's voice scared you and made you jump.

"Are you two for real? Hurry up Seungmin, you're distracting my co-chef" he huffed, looking at your boyfriend with his arms crossed and his feet going up and down, demonstrating that he couldn't wait for the other boys to finish.

15 minutes later, Felix was putting the batter on the oven, Seungmin was sitting on a chair with you on his lap, his arms around your waist and you couldn't resist the urge to give him a kiss. It started sweet, gentle. But then he took control and soon you two were almost eating each other, only to be interrupted again by a clearly agitated Felix.

"Seriously guys? Right in front of the turkey?" he said, running to the marinating turkey and standing in front of it.

You blushed, hiding your flushed face in your boyfriend's neck. You felt how he opened his mouth to answer, but another voice filled your ears instead.

"Oh, you two should get a room," Hyunjin laughed, his head peeking to the kitchen, probably attracted by Felix's funny exclamation.

That second interruption seemed to be like a warning for Seungmin and you, both trying your best to stay away from each other and interact more with the rest of your friends, until Minho declared that it was the time to eat and all of you reunited at the table.

The dinner was relaxed, some reminisced about their childhood and how they spent their Christmases with their family and how happy they were, others sharing funny stories that featured the toys they were gifted and someone even saying how devastated they felt after they discovered Santa wasn't real and how much it took for them to accept it.

After dinner, Changbin took out a game and all of you played with it for a while, until it got too dark and Seungmin announced that he would be taking you home. Your ears perked at his announcement, a feeling of excitement in the depth of your stomach bloomed and you stood up with a sheepish smile ready to hug everyone goodbye, telling the guys that they could go to your house in the morning to give you their gifts since you didn't have enough arms to carry them all home with you.

Seungmin took your hand, guiding you to the door while you waved goodbye to Chan and the guys one last time with an enchanting smile on your smile.

When you were outside, you took Seungmin's warm hand in yours to heat your smaller hands as well. The chilly December night made your cheeks and nose red from the coldness, and so you walked hand in hand, talking about how much fun you had during the dinner and playing games with your friends.

The rest of the trip home continuing in a comfortable silence, at some point he pulled you towards him, his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you playfully, making you laugh in the process. But you didn't try to move away from him, wrapping your arm around his waist and resting your face against him, feeling his warmth. It was like that until you got to your home, you separated from him much to your sadness and looked for your keys in your purse. Minutes later, when you found them and you two were finally allowed to be inside, you turned on the light and took off your shoes, next to you Seungmin did the same thing and when you were done, you took his hand and guided him to the couch where he sat, you taking a place on his lip and staring at his big eyes lovingly, one of your hands on his cheek and your other arm resting on his shoulder.

"I love you, Seungmin" you whispered, your thumb caressing his cheek sweetly. His eyes shone brightly, a beautiful smile adorned his face and he leaned in closer to kiss you quickly on the lips, making you smile too.

"I love you too, sweetheart. So much" Seungmin's arms wrapped around you, making you giggle as he pressed kisses all over your face. You tried to stop him, failing every attempt.

When he finally stopped and you tried to regain your breath again he was looking at you with that foolish smile that always adorned his face when his eyes found you. You had fallen so deep for him, it made you completely happy that he demonstrated that it was the same way around and that he was head over heels for you too.

You cleared your throat when you were finally calm, and you turned on the TV. The hour showed, it was still a bit early, so you had an idea.

"There's still time left until Christmas, Minnie. We could watch a movie, and then…" you hit your lip, cheeks getting hotter from what you had to suggest.

Seungmin didn't seem to catch what you meant.

Or more importantly, he wanted you to say it, hear what was on your mind.

"Then what, sweetheart?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he paid full attention to your words.

"and then… You can open your present" you said, biting your lip and looking at him with your eyes open. In his eyes, you seemed so adorable, acting so shy and getting flustered so easily. You made his heart flutter without even trying.

"I'm so excited to unwrap the present, I think I already saw what it is, but a picture is not the same as the real deal" he winked at you, placing his big hand on your cheek and keeping you in place as he left a sweet kiss on your lips.

"Put the movie then, baby" he said, his breath hitting your face as he talked, his forehead against yours and the same smile from before still there.

Sighing and removing your face from where it was resting against his hand, you stood up and turned on the television, putting on a movie that you two like, the movie that reminded you of him and how your relationship had progressed from being just friends to the only couple among your common friends, who also played an important point in making you and him get together.

With the movie playing, your head started to go in the direction of what your future actions could lead to; there were many possibilities of what Seungmin could do to you if you did present yourself to him as his 'gift', many scenarios playing in your head that leaded to a growing wetness between your legs, Seungmin's hand resting carelessly in your waist didn't help at all to ease your wild thoughts. You were eager to get intimate with him, it was becoming more of a need as seconds passed by; time felt eternal, it was almost torture. The worst torture of all times. You were craving his touch, his kisses, his words…

Unconsciously, you pressed yourself against him, the hand that was resting against his own that was on your waist sliding it down across your stomach, his long fingers intertwining with your own as he passed his nose on the crook of your neck, making you shiver and bite your lip to avoid making any noise that could give away how needy you were for him.

And as the movie passed, you kept your thighs pressed together and holding his hand under yours. Seungmin happened to randomly kiss you anywhere he could reach. He seemed so controlled, so at peace and incredibly relaxed.

That was, until a moment where you particularly grounded too hard against him and came in contact with the boner caged in his pants.

And you knew. He needed you almost as much as you desired him.

Shifting so you would be facing him, you jumped scared when something fell to the floor. The both of you looked for the object after being so suddenly startled, and your hand reached to pick up your phone. It was okay, you made sure to check the screen to see if it hadn't broken anywhere, but something else caught your eye. The time. It was 11:48, almost midnight.

"Minnie, it's almost midnight" you whispered, leaving your phone under your pillow. Your boyfriend looked at you with a knowing look, and he sat on the couch, pulling your arm to make you sit as well.

"Then it'll be okay if I open my present now since it's almost Christmas, right?" you nodded, not saying a word, your beautiful orbs focused on him and how his own eyes were dark with pure lust.

He took your hand and indicated you to stand up. You did as he wanted, fixing your dress as you stood right in front of him. Seungmin was sitting on the couch with his legs spread, one arm resting on the back of it and his other hand was still holding yours.

"I want to see you take that pretty dress off so you can give me my present" he said in a raspy voice. You looked down at your hands tagging the end of the pretty fabric that conformed the dress you wore for the entire day. This was it, the moment you had anticipated since the package containing the pretty lingerie arrived at your home.

Exhaling, your timid hand started to take off the pretty dress. In front of you, Seungmin took in every inch of skin that was revealed to him, his head tilted to the side and his bottom lip between his teeth.

The more of your skin was exposed to him, the more he felt the need to stroke the cock under his pants. It almost hurt him from how hard he was, this effect you had in him was so powerful, it made his mind dizzy from all the want drowning his head when he saw you in almost nothing. You were so delicate to him, there was nothing else that he wanted besides taking care of you and destroying you until you were shouting his name with tears of ecstasy.

Finally letting the dress come off you and letting gravity do its job by allowing the item to fall to the floor, Seungmin was able to appreciate the dexy set you had bought for the holidays.

"Oh, doll, you're the best gift I've ever had…" he extended his hand which you took without thinking. It had become a natural habit of yours to hold whatever got your attention, but most importantly, holding Seungmin's hand.

And then he pulled you to him, making you fall on top of him in a straddling position. You pressed your hands against his chest to sit more comfortably on top of him, while he never removed his eyes from your barely covered nipples. He seemed to be so marveled by the set you were wearing, it made you feel like you had already won Christmas, because knowing what was yet to come, you had already won. It didn't matter if there was a gift or not; every moment of intimacy you shared with him made you feel like you'd won the lottery. You'd never change that for anything.

"You did a good job undressing, baby, but I want to finish unwrapping you so I can play with my doll" Seungmin murmured, one of his fingers passing from your neck to the middle of your chest until it reached your bra. His other hand was resting on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles there.

Thanks to the position you were in, he was able to feel how wet you were. The damp panties leaving a spot on his crotch, but neither of you seemed to care as tension got heavier and heavier with time.

Passing his thumb through your breast, he stopped right where your erect nipole3showed through the red lingerie, and he slowly moved apart the clothing to see how he played with your sensitive chest. It felt good, but the pleasure increased when his lips met your boob and his tongue played around with you, your head thrown back and the first loud moan escaped your lips.

"S-Seungmin…" you sighed, holding yourself by gripping his shoulders strongly. Your boyfriend seemed to comply at your plea as he added teeth to the mixture of giving you what he knew would make you squirm and he bit you playfully.

His other hand was squeezing your other boob, and the arm on your thigh was now on your hip trying to keep you from grinding against him.

You'd given him total control to make you do whatever he needed for the following day, and Kim Seungmin was smart enough to use it and please himself firstly by pleasing you because he loved you.

He hadn't seemed to notice the wet patch on his pants, the one that you created from how good he was treating you and making you feel. You felt frustrated that he wasn't allowing you to drag your hips above his covered length to feel a bit of friction. You needed some form of release.

"Minnie, please…" you cried out, your nails digging on the soft skin of his shoulders as you tried once again to grind on his boner, not succeeding from his hold on you.

Seungmin separated his lips from you, his other hand still playing with your defenseless nipple as he looked up at you. "What do you need, sweetheart?" he asked. His voice sounded heavenly, so attractive, raspy and low for you to hear only.

"N–nothing… I'm your present, I should make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good" you whispered again. It was Christmas, a day for giving without expecting anything in return. You'd feel so selfish crying to him to make you feel good, to make you cum when that was your job. You wanted to take care of him, give him anything he wanted that you could give. He stayed silent, his hand finally stopping and his eyes looking down on your barely covered form. And he simply nodded.

With that little gesture, you moved yourself from his lap and dropped to the floor, sitting on your knees between his legs, your hands on his thigh creeping slowly to the zipper of his pants and your lips parted open while your eyes focused on the objective in your head.

Freeing his rock hard cock from the confinement of his pants, it sprung freely. You watched it with eyes wide open, the red tip and the veins showing made you swallow and lick your lips before placing them on his head and giving it a kitten lick. A first try before getting to work on giving him what you wanted.

An experimental first lick, like if his dick was ice cream.

You finally took him in your mouth, a groan of satisfaction coming from your boyfriend made your heart swell with pride for making him feel good.

You hollowed your cheeks as you took more of him until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged, but didn't move away either. Your hands that were resting earlier on his thighs were now wrapped around the base of his cock. Seungmin's own hand flew to your head, his fingers tangling with your hair.

"Baby, you feel so good" he said, looking at how you were taking him in your wet cavity and groaning in pleasure again.

Moving away and taking him out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connected his member to you. You were breathing heavily and your eyes had gotten glassy from forcing yourself to take more than what you were used to, but you were feeling a bit of adrenaline, your heart racing and resonating in your ears from the emotion of doing something new like this.

You liked the sensation of having him so deep in your throat, of choking on his thick cock. It hurt a little, and it was a bit hard to breathe as well, but the adrenaline you felt when he was inside you was incredible, plus getting to hear the sounds of pleasure he made when he was inside you was like music to your ears, a true reward from working so hard in making him feel good.

Bobbing your head up and down, Seungmin twitched inside your mouth and moaned your name. He was about to come, you could tell from the way he threw his head back and how his hand pushed you slightly to take more of him, and you did.

You tried your best to take him even deeper, and seconds after that the warm sensation of his juices filled your throat, making you cough and separate from him, his seed slipping through your chin and some drops falling to your chest.

Seungmin opened his eyes and looked at you, a tired smile on his face.

"You took me so well, baby. Come here" he patted his thigh for you to sit on it. You did, grinding shamelessly on his softening cock that got hard again at the contact of your wet pussy.

His hand slipped, moving your pantie to the side and passing a finger through your folds. "You're dripping wet, baby, and I haven't even properly touched you yet" he said, sliding one digit inside you.

You gasped, surprised at the sudden irruption in your warm pussy. "M-more…" you sighed, raising your hips so it was easier for him to slip another finger in you and stretch you before he let you take his length.

He started moving his fingers inside you in scissoring motions, you moving your hips to let him slide deeper inside you. Your head was thrown back and a choir of sinful moans escaping your lips, you were such a sight for him to see, for his eyes and his eyes only.

Your body started to shake as the tingling feeling of an orgasm washed over you, and you couldn't help but release around his fingers, shouting his name in ecstasy. You were in heaven.

"Y/N, you did so go for me. But I still haven't unwrapped my present, and I can't wait to play with my doll all day" Seungmin said, pulling out his fingers from you and taking them to your mouth for you to clean them for him. You sucked on them greedily, eyes still closed and moaning, sending vibrations through his fingers.

And he took them out again, his hands taking your hips and you alining his cock to your entrance. There were butterflies in your stomach as you slowly sunk down on him, his member stretching you carefully, it felt… Exquisite, so wonderful. It was great to have him in you, making you feel so full and complete.

"Oh, doll, you feel so tight" Seungmin grunted, his hold on your hips helping you slide up and down on his cock.

"Y–you're so big, Seungmin…" you moaned, tugging on his shirt trying to take it off. He understood and stopped holding you to take it off himself, your eyes admiring his chest and one of your hands traveling all over him.

Soon, your legs grew tired from all the movement you were doing, and your rhythm decreased slowly. Seungmin seemed to notice, because he held you still and flipped you so you would be lying on your back and he was the one to do the job now.

Rolling his hips into yours, Seungmin's pace was slow, he thrusted into you carefully instead of slamming himself against you. It was nice, but you were needy, you wanted something else, you wished that he would get a little fought with you but instead he seemed to be punishing you. But you couldn't say anything. You were his gift, you wanted him to use you however he wanted to, no matter how torturing this resulted to you, you didn't want to complain about anything.

But your body had other plans, your legs wrapped around him pushed him deeper into you, helping your boyfriend reach the sweet spot that could have you seeing stars in minutes, and once Seungmin found it he would not let it go, he would use that knowledge to his own benefit and torturing mechanics. And you were hating every moment of that.

Every time he entered you again, he aimed directly to hit that spot, it was just a matter of time until you were scratching his back and squirming under him, drowned in pure hot pleasure. The arrival of another climax hit you, but it wasn't until Seungmin spilled his cum in you that your own orgasm was triggered from feeling how he emptied inside you. Inevitably, he collapsed on top of you, kissing you messily. It was cute, knowing he needed to kiss you after finishing inside you, somehow it made you feel loved.

Seconds passed, his cum was starting to ooze out of your hole, he was still above you and filling you up, but neither of you were saying anything. Your hands were running all over his naked back and he was hugging you with his whole body.

"Seungmin, let's get clean, love" you whispered, your other hand playing with his hair. He made a noise that seemed like a negative hum, that made you look at him with a raised brow.

"We can't shower yet, Y/N, Christmas has just started and I haven't unwrapped my present at all" he got up, looking at you from above "look, you're still dressed, I haven't started playing properly with you, doll" he smirked. You blushed at his words.

Technically, he was right.

"Let's at least continue in the bedroom, there's more space in my bed" you whined. Seungmin stood up, giving you his hand for you to take and he made his way to the room he was so familiar with.

He told you to lay on your back in the bed, following after you and lying on his stomach under you, his face in front of your wet pussy.

His big hands rested on your thighs, and before he did anything else he murmured something to himself; "God, this is the absolute best gift I've ever gotten" in the sexiest voice you'd ever heard. And without wasting any more time, his hands grabbed the edge of the red lingerie finally, sliding them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him.

His eyes were shining and he liked his lips, all that before looking up at you and saying: "Merry Christmas doll, I love you."