#i sure hope no one turns into a monster and tries to kill us!

[egophiliac]

A guy who just wake up from a coma -> what did i miss?

Pomefiore was the last plot i follow before real life made me forget about our silly boys. How bad has the plot become now for our gang? Also who is that Gojo looking guy?

anon, I am so sorry and I mean this in the best way, but I do think episode 5 is the absolute funniest place to have stopped following Twst because shit starts escalating SO fast after that. episode 6 literally starts with a secret government shadow agency breaking down our doors and kidnapping students. zero to a million instantly.

and like...that's not even the zaniest thing so far? Ortho's hacked into the collective human unconscious. there's time travel (sort of). "Crowley might be Malleus' long-lost father" is a serious theory. if you'd told me any of this back pre-episode 6, I would have asked for the link to this unbelievable but highly intriguing fanfic.

also, episode 7 gave us (and then immediately took away 😔) the best character in the whole story:

[cat0901h3]

Goosebumps Books 1-10

Can't believe that it took me nearly two years to just do 10 covers for the books. Will be posting more Goosebumps in the future, along with other stuff.

Read more to know my personal opinions and critiques on my fanart for each book:

Welcome to Dead House: I wanted to make the house look alive like Monster House, so I gave it more human characteristics (ie: the people in the windows to form eyes, or the finger-like branches.) Also paid homage to a horror film by styling it after The Amityville Horror house.

The Benson children themselves look a bit depressed, that's because the first book is actually more scarier than the rest of the series, so they're a bit angsty.

Stay Out of the Basement: This one killed a lot of my green markers lol. I tried to make Dr. Brewer as menacing as possible while still showing that he is a father with the photos, There were going to be more plants reaching out, but I decided that the leaves hidden on him would be enough.

Though I have to admit my disappointment with the lighting. It still looks a bit too bright, and not dark enough. That's just my own critique.

Monster Blood: Honestly, pretty mixed about this one. While I'm proud of the bubbling ooze that looks like a skull, which is outlined by one of my colored pens. I'm not proud that everything else is so muted with brown. Almost all of Jacobus' works are vibrant and saturated, so it being dull in colors feels like a disservice to him.

Also, Andy's last name was made up by me, she apparently just doesn't have one. It's inspired by Stephen King. Btw, hope you love banana and strawberry dyed hair, you'll see more of it soon in future batches.

Say Cheese and Die!: One of my favorite books, and of course it gets the best fanart imo. The screaming skeleton form of Greg Banks with red bg in the polaroid, contrasting with the dark background is just super cool, coolest shit I've ever done. Though I might be biased, I really like skeletons. Like Curly.

I actually made concept art for a Say Cheese and Die! graphic novel, which includes drawings of the photos and Spidey! Let me know if you're curious.

The Curse of The Mummy's Tomb: Not much to this one honestly. Just a mummy casually busting down a wall filled with hieroglyphics. Though I will say, I was experimenting with shading with purple and blues like Jacobus. As you can see, didn't stick for long.

This is also the book that I discovered that if the protag doesn't have a last name, then there is an official one either in the Presents novels, the mobile app, comics or other.

Let's Get Invisible!: This was pretty tricky to draw. Drawing someone turning invisible maybe easy in Photoshop or Procreate, but this was traditional art. Sure Jacobus did it with airbrushes, but I all had were pens and markers. But I somehow managed to pull it off, which is insane that I even managed that in the first place.

Night of the Living Dummy: Ah, the infamous Pamela Vorhees book, where the main antagonist isn't the mascot, but instead some other puppet lol. I've seen a lot of fanart of Slappy, but never of Mr. Wood. So I wanted to do justice for Wood while still showcasing Slappy. While I am proud for how it mostly turned out, there are two things that bother me. 1. This is the night sky that is black, the rest are either blue or purple. 2. I forgot to add the lines that make the jaw on Mr. Wood, whoops.

Aside from that, I hope guys like that Misfits poster in the background and Kris's cool hair cut. The green was inspired by the comic adaption not 2015 Jacksepticeye.

The Girl Who Cried Monster: Please forgive me for the small thumbnail, I wasn't using a ruler at the time. The design for Mr. Mortman wasn't much of a challenge. I loosely based it off of the French rendition of the cover and gave him a large leech-like mouth.

In my headcannon, the teeth spin like a garbage disposal, making easy work of the turtles.

Welcome to Camp Nightmare: Another one of my favorites, and I think I did a decent enough job, too. The lighting is perfect, the clouds look alien enough, and you can just barely see the screaming campers inside the tent. I do have one issue though, and that is the size of the monster, Sabre. In the original sketch I did, he was supposed to blend in like a bush, but instead he looks like Sasquatch Sr. Oh well.

While they did give Billy a last name in the Presents books, I had to make up one for Dawn. Just based it off Gwen Stacy lol. Also, hope you enjoy the little bonus pictures down below.

The Ghost Next Door: The original Jacobus art was perfectly vague enough to keep the twist there but not spoil anything. Of course to do the same thing, but with a twist of my own. The "ghost" shadow that you see in the street is the Dark Figure that follows Hannah around or when Danny is near. I wanted it to look like it was constantly on fire, since SPOILERS: someone in the book does die in a fire.

Another headcannon is that the Dark Figure isn't actually a ghost or whatever, but instead the embodiment of Misery.

[twilght-talks]

Gonna keep requesting (sorry if you’re already swamped, no pressure to write my asks) because you’re one of the best authors on my tumblr rn I am convinced. 🫰

Can we see Thanos picking F!reader for the final round in Mingle instead of Nam-gyu, and when they get inside a room, Thanos takes the opportunity to have a lil impromptu make out session? ✨

“With Me Flower.”

A/N: EEK!! Thank u so much I’m so happy I’m someone’s fav author! Hope you like this!! I tried to bring this request to life so pls enjoy!

Warnings: kissing, squid game gore

The announcement for Mingle blares over the speakers, and the room erupts into chaos.

People shove past each other, scrambling for groups, voices rising in panic. You have seconds to find a room—seconds to stay alive.

Every round, the required number changes. If you don’t make it into a room with the exact amount? You die.

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you scan the frantic crowd, searching for Nam-Gyu—

“Two.”

The final round. Pairs only.

The air shifts. Everyone still left turns feral.

You barely have a second to react before a strong hand grabs your wrist.

“With me, flower.”

Before you can respond, Thanos is already yanking you toward the nearest open door. His grip is firm, unyielding, his pace deadly fast.

Other people lunge for the door ahead, desperate to survive.

Thanos shoves one of them back, hard. The man stumbles, nearly falling, but another one grabs for your arm.

“She’s with me.” Thanos snarls, and before you can even blink, his fist connects with the guy’s face.

The sickening crack of bone echoes as the man collapses.

More shouts. More people grabbing, pushing.

“Go, go, go—!” Thanos orders, steering you toward the door as someone tries to yank him back. He elbows them off, shoving them aside with brute force before dragging you through the threshold.

The second you’re inside, the door slams shut.

Silence.

Your breathing is ragged, chest heaving from the adrenaline, your hands still gripping his jacket on instinct.

He exhales a sharp breath, knuckles bleeding. He flexes his fingers like it’s nothing.

“You—” you start, voice uneven, “You fought for me?”

Thanos scoffs, rolling his shoulders, a lazy smirk curling on his lips. “Duh.”

But his usual cockiness is laced with something else. Something darker.

He takes a slow step toward you, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows over his face. “What, you thought I’d let someone else take you?”

Your stomach flips.

The room suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker. His hands find your waist, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your jumpsuit, testing, teasing.

You should be thinking about the next game. About survival.

But all you can think about is him.

“You scared?” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, pulse racing under his touch. But you shake your head. “No.”

His lips twitch. “Good.”

And then—he’s kissing you.

It’s fast, consuming, raw. His hands grip your waist, pulling you in, pressing you flush against him. His lips move hungrily against yours, stealing your breath, making you forget everything—the game, the fear, the deaths.

You gasp against him, fingers threading through his ridiculous purple hair, tugging, desperate for more. He groans, his grip tightening as he backs you up against the wall, his body solid, warm, unrelenting.

It’s reckless. It’s insane.

But neither of you stop.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing heavy. His hands stay on your waist, thumbs brushing soft circles over your jumpsuit.

You’re dizzy. Breathless.

“Thanos…” your voice is barely a whisper.

His lips graze yours again, teasing, tempting. “Hmm?”

You exhale shakily. “This game is going to kill us.”

He chuckles, low and dark, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Then let’s make sure we win.”

And just like that, the speakers crackle to life, the next instructions looming—

But all you can feel is the way he’s still holding onto you.

A/n: Hi my lil monsters! How we likey? This is only my second time writing smt like this (spicy kinda) so I hope yall like!!

Love ya, Twilight

Taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @takuma-talkz -talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium

[rosenclaws]

Can you please write insecure!oldman!Logan? He is embarrased and sad because he can’t do things he could with you when he was younger, you can’t have sex easily and he can’t run and stuff, you can do whatever you want with the idea 💗🫶🫶

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Smut, blow job, showering together, insecure Logan, angry Logan, mentions of blood.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: Yes sorry this took so long I had a lot of valentines stuff + just my daily life going on lmao. This is a little shorter because I'm not really feeling my smut writing rn idk why but I hope you enjoy it anyways.

Logan had always been a strong man. Always. Emotionally and Physically. In his prime he had super human abilities, his strength, his speed, his agility. He was an absolute monster on the battle field. Nothing and no one could stop him and boy did they try. He was the Wolverine, the X-Man. And now...now he's just a shell.

Logan traces his jaw as he roughly drags the razor along the side of his face. He grunts as he nicks himself again, his hand shakes as he tries to cut trim away the scruff but he just can't get his hand to steady. In a fit of frustration he slams the razor down onto the countertop. Crushing the poor appliance to pieces.

"Logan!?" He hears you call from the bedroom. Your voice drenched in worry.

"I'm fine!" He yells back.

The last thing he wants is for you to come wandering in the bathroom while he's like this. Bitter and angry. The man in the mirror is a far cry from the man he once was. His once dark hair was now old and greying. A rough beard had grown on his face, half due to laziness making him look much older. Wrinkles are everywhere, proving to anyone that looked at him that he was just an old man.

Under his shirt were scars and bruises. He never used to scar. His body was fit, he was muscled and for lack of a better term. Absolutely ripped. Sure he still has his muscles but his chest was littered with bullet scars and ugly tearing from the fights he's tried so desperately to shield you from.

You say you love him, he wants to believe it. But how could someone like you ever truly love a man like Logan. A man who has shed a river of blood and killed more than he can even remember. How does the world decide that now, after everything, he gets to come home to a sweet thing like you. A big smile and a warm heart waiting for him at the end of the day.

How could you want a man who can barely keep up with you. You're younger than him. To be fair pretty much everyone is younger than Logan. But physically, you go for runs in the morning, you dance around the living room, you're just so full of energy. A bright star in the sea of darkness and Logan, well he is the darkness. He's sore and tired and angry. The world does not shine for him anymore.

He can't go out with you, treat you the way you deserve to be treated. He can't take you dancing or go on a walk in the park. All he does is come home and sit on the couch. His joints creaking as it takes all his effort to even get comfortable. He sees you watch those romance movies with a longing in your eyes. It's a cold bitter pill for Logan to swallow but the truth is, he's just too worn down for you. You deserve more than what he can give you.

He looks around, its a small bathroom. It's a small house. He took every extra penny he could get in order to buy this little cabin. It took weeks to renovate it too. But Logan wanted to give you a place to life, to be safe. Maybe he can leave the house to you. He's so deep in his own head that he doesn't hear the door open. He jumps when he feels your hands on his chest.

"Logan what's wrong?" Your voice is soft as you gently cup his face, pulling him from whatever spiral he was sending himself through.

"Nothing. I need to shower." He grunts out, tilting his head to get out of your grip. You frown as he sheds his shirt and turns on the shower. You admire his back as he starts to unbuckle his pants.

"Can I join you?" You ask sweetly as you grab the bottom of your shirt and lift it up.

Logan turns around to deny you but the moment he lays eyes on you any words fail. You smirk as you slowly undress yourself, Logan watching you the whole time. You slip past him and stand under the hot water, letting it run down your body. You hold your hand out to Logan as to silently say, come join me. Logan kicks his pants off and joins you under the water. Groaning as the hot water hits his aching muscles.

"What happened?" Your brows furrow as you see the blood drip down his chin.

"Nicked myself with a razor." He mumbles, his eyes closing as you start to rub your hands on his shoulders.

"That's okay, it happens." You cup your hand to let some water pool and then use it to clean his face.

"You're too sweet on an old man like me baby." He whispers, his insecurities coming to light as he feels a sense of guilt coming over him. Guilt that you're even here with him in the shower, helping an old man like him wash his body.

"Oh hush you idiot." You lather body wash in your hands and start to wash his arms and chest.

"I'm serious baby, just look at me." He gestures lamely to himself. One of his hands coming to cup your chin.

"I can't keep up with the guys your age. I can't..." He sighs, his rough hands grab your waist and gently push you against the wall.

"I can't please you the way someone like you should be pleased." He admits. It's embarrassing to say but he knows it's true.

Maybe in another life, had you had met when he was younger things would be different. But he can't fuck the way he used to. 20 Years ago he could pick you up like nothing and tear you apart like it was nothing. But now, now he has to go slow and he can only last a round, maybe two.

"Shut up," You press your finger to his lips and he rolls his eyes.

"My turn to talk." Logan watches as you slowly sink to your knees.

"You think I don't know you're old? You wear dollar store reading glasses and say your knees hurt when it rains." He opens his mouth to complain but you shut him up by grabbing his cock in your hands. Your soapy warm hands are like heaven.

"I'm not some stupid kid Logan," He's acting like he's the big bad wolf who's hiding some terrible secret from you. You love Logan, all parts of him and you'll be dammed if you let him get in his own head and destroy the life you have now.

"I can make my own decisions and right now, I want to suck my boyfriends cock." Logan grabs your hair and tilts your head up so he can look at you. Lust blown wide in his eyes as you hold his heavy cock in your hands.

"You're gonna kill me one day you know that?" He groans as you stick your tongue out and lick the tip of it. A devilish tint in your eyes.

"What a way to go huh?" You tease as you take him as far into your mouth as you can, hell bent on sucking away any insecurities still floating in Logan's brain.

It's messy and hot and Logan feels like he's going to burst much sooner than he wants but he can't fucking help it. I mean fuck a hot thing like you has your warm mouth wrapped around his dick, how could he not fall apart. He places his hand on the back of your head and shoves you down until you choke.

You love when he gets rougher, he says he can't but his dominance shows in other ways, like the hold he has on your hair and the messy thrust of his hips. You moan around him and he slams his hand against the shower wall, accidently cracking the tile. Not strong my ass. It doesn't take long for him to come down your throat.

You drink it up with ease, wiping your lips as he pulls his softening cock out of your mouth. He pulls you up easily and gently pushes you against the wall, his lips on your neck biting and sucking anywhere he can get.

"Fuck baby," He groans as one of his hands slips down in between your legs.

"You can't get rid of me that easy old man." You groan as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Yeah yeah," He lifts you up, ignoring the pain in his back as he carries you out of the shower and to the bedroom.

"Logan! We're soaking wet." You whine as he tosses you onto the bed, crawling up until he's slotted perfectly between your legs.

"I know." He says with a smirk.

"Feel better now?" You ask as he puts his arms under your thighs.

You were always good at keeping his bad thoughts at bay. Another night he might be pulled back in to his thoughts, but for now he'll just thank the universe for bringing you to him.

"Yeah I am baby, But I'm about to feel even better."

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 1

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N, after spending a decade at Camp Half-Blood, still remains unclaimed. Luckily, Luke is there to keep her company as her good friend. And to, perhaps, provide a bit more.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : fighting, violence, a little too much of a description about injuries

—

Nobody had been this excited about a new kid since three years ago, when a H/C-haired girl showed up holding a Harpy’s head. The new arrival had slain a Minotaur, which Clarisse wasn’t too happy about. She was convinced he was a liar.

Y/N sat in the Hermes cabin, closely inspecting her empty juice box. She had waken up an hour ago yet her good friend, Luke, still woke up earlier. She always wondered where he went in the early morning. Perhaps to get some sword training in before the day started. He was, after all, the best swordsman in camp.

The rays of sun poured through the window, bathing the wooden floor in light. A few of the Hermes kids groaned, knowing Luke would burst through the doors any second and force them to get up. He always did when the sun rose.

As expected, Luke kicked the door open. “Good morning!” He exclaimed, as energetic as ever. “The new kid’s coming today so get up and start cleaning! I’m mainly talking to you guys.” Luke sent the group in the corner a stern look and added, “Y/N, you’re fine.” He pointed at her with his usual boyish grin.

Lately, Y/N had been sleeping in Luke’s bed while he slept on the floor. They took turns switching. Lying on the ground for more than a decade now wasn’t good for the back.

After all this time, Y/N was still unclaimed. It usually took a week or less. Y/N was a prime example of the Gods above ignoring their children.

“He’s the one who killed the Minotaur, right?” Y/N questioned as Luke collapsed onto his mattress, partly to annoy Y/N who was sitting on it. The H/C-haired girl scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes, yet she couldn’t contain the amused smile on her face.

“Yeah. He can join your little monster slaying group. Let’s hope he gets claimed because I can’t deal with a boy version of you.” Luke teasingly grinned while Y/N scoffed and slapped his shoulder.

“You love my company.” She uttered, rolling her eyes.

Luke’s friends snickered to themselves. “More like he loves you.” One whispered to another.

“What’s his name again?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “Was it… Tom?” Luke stared at her in disbelief before lightly snorting.

“You’re way off, Y/N. Stop thinking, you’ll hurt that tiny brain of your’s. Just do what you do best; sit still and look cute.” Luke ruffled her tidy hair, turning it into a bird’s nest again.

Y/N flung a pillow at him, and glowered at the Hermes boy. “I’m going to kick your ass in capture the flag.” She threatened, poking his shoulder. Clarisse, out of all people, was her best friend. So naturally, she teamed up with her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, princess.” Luke lightly shoved her which caused Y/N to gasp in disbelief.

“Don’t push a lady, Luke!”

The other campers, already used to their antics, just chuckled. “Hey, love birds!” One of the unclaimed kids exclaimed. “Get a room!” With her smart she was, Y/N assumed she was Athena’s child.

Y/N and Luke liked to play a silly game where they guessed which camper belonged to which godly parent. It was fun. Luke was never wrong until the day he tried to guess Y/N’s.

A year ago, he guessed Aphrodite. His explanation? Because she was charming and she had a certain aura that followed her. And because she was pretty. That was the only time he was wrong because Y/N never ended up in a cabin.

“So, what do you think of the new kid? Which cabin?” Y/N asked as she and Luke walked outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets, laughing.

“Tough call. I haven’t even met him yet. Apollo, maybe?” Luke shrugged and frowned. “I’ll tell ya my guess when I see him.”

“I’m guessing… Poseidon.” Y/N uttered, earning a light snort from Luke.

“No way. Is that your confirmed guess? Being a child of Poseidon would mean being a forbidden child.”

The game had a few rules.

One. You can only take a single guess and once you confirm it, you can’t change it.

Two. You can’t ask the kid you’re talking about. Luke considers that cheating. You can only observe them.

Three. No asking Annabeth because she’s always right.

“I guess. It’s not like I ever win, right?” Y/N laughed, grinning at Luke. He stared at her for a moment before returning her bright smile.

“I know we don’t usually make bets, but if your guess turns out right, I’ll willingly give up in the next capture the flag game after he’s claimed.” Luke puffed out his chest, certain Y/N wouldn’t win.

“And if you win?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You give me your strawberries.” Luke had an obsession with strawberries that everybody, even the gods above, knew about.

“You’re on, Luke.” Y/N held out her hand with her lips curved up into a teasing smirk.

“Good luck, princess. Looks like I’ll be taking all your strawberries.” Luke ran his tongue over his teeth, already being able to taste the sweet, red fruit in his mouth.

He walked off, playfully winking at Y/N. Clarisse, who saw the whole conversation go down, hurried over to Y/N. “Looks like you and lover boy have a bet going in.” She smirked, raising both her eyebrows. “You two are cute together.”

“Don’t mess with me, Clari. We’re just friends.” Y/N rolled her eyes at what her friend was suggesting. She had been friends with Luke for three years now and she had known him for even longer.

“Are you just friends… or you want to be more?” Clarisse leaned forward with that taunting glint in her beautiful eyes. Y/N groaned, shoving her away. Clarisse simply laughed. “Come on, princess.” She mocked.

“Oh, come on, Risse.” That was a horrid nickname given to Clarisse by an Apollo boy who seemed to be obsessed with her.

“Shut up!” Clarisse exclaimed, eyeing Y/N up and down in disgust as if she was the Apollo boy. “You know how I feel about him!”

“And you know how I feel about Luke.”

“Yeah… but do you?” Clarisse tilted her head to the side before her gaze flickered to something, or rather someone, behind Y/N. “The Minotaur kid is out.” She grumbled and sharply clicked her tongue.

“Great. I can see if my stupid guess was correct.” Y/N glanced over her shoulder, watching the boy walk beside Chiron. His hair was curled, much like Luke’s, and blond. Clarisse had wandered off in the midst of Y/N’s staring, but she didn’t mind.

Suddenly, the boy lifted his head. His eyes clashed with Y/N’s, and he almost jumped at how intensely she was staring at him. Y/N merely smiled before turning away.

“So, what do you think?” She asked Luke as they walked towards the Hermes cabin side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“Hard to say for now.” Luke replied. Y/N looked at him and he stared back before the pair burst into quiet laughter. Just locking eyes could make two friends find anything hilarious.

“I assume you’ll take him under your wing? Good luck.” Y/N nudged him with her elbow, which seemed to be a normal gesture between them.

“Thanks, princess. See ya.”

Y/N turned around, almost crashing into a disoriented Percy Jackson. He seemed jumpy and panicked. Of course, how couldn’t he be? He had just unknowingly killed a monster and his mother had been taken.

“Hi. The first day is always rough. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Y/N muttered to him before she passed by.

She didn’t stick around to hear Chiron announce him. She sighed, wandering aimlessly around the camp. She saw Clarisse talking to her siblings. Y/N had always wondered what it was like to have siblings you could relate to. What did it feel like to understand each other? To go through the same difficulties?

The Hermes cabin was comfortable and friendly enough but it wasn’t the same. She wanted to feel what a true family felt like, or at least was supposed to.

As Y/N had expected, Luke was the first to talk to Percy.

“I’m Luke.” He introduced himself to the boy after the rocky start to their conversation.

“Percy. Hey, uh, who was that girl before? The H/C-haired one?” He questioned, clearing his throat.

“Y/N. She’s nice most of the time the time but a pain in the ass during capture the flag.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m just kidding. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“You guys seem close.” Percy uttered, remembering the way Luke looked at Y/N when they talked.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Unfortunately for me, her best friend is an aggressive Ares kid.” He grinned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Feel free to lie down anywhere. Just don’t get too close to Y/N. If she’s having a monster dream, she kicks in her sleep.”

One of the campers across the cabin groaned. “I know how that feels. The bruise lasted for weeks!” The others burst into laughter while Percy hurriedly made a mental note.

Avoid the pretty girl when she sleeps.

Percy was lucky that Y/N, who lay on the floor a few feet away from him, wasn’t having one of her infamous nightmares. He couldn’t say the same for himself, though.

Percy sat up, panting and sweating. He looked around, realising where he was. Birds chirped in the distant and he could hear the faint sound of chatter through the wooden walls.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Super.” Percy sarcastically responded.

“We all have them here, you know.” Luke clicked his tongue and sighed. “Intense, reoccurring nightmares. That’s normal here. Take Y/N for example. When she first came here, no one wanted to get near her while she slept. Girl’s a bloody good kicker.”

Percy lightly chuckled while Luke smiled. “The daydreams and ADHA and dyslexia are normal too. Demigods just process reality differently than humans do. For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.”

“So, are you also…” Percy trailed off, not wanting to sound rude to his first friend at camp.

Luke found his hesitation amusing. “Am I unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father.”

“And Y/N? Is her father also Hermes?”

Luke scrunched up his face like he had just eaten a sour lemon. “Oh, no. Heck no. Y/N’s unclaimed… still. She has been for a while.” The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line as he gazed at Y/N, who was laughing with Clarisse.

“Why hasn’t Aphrodite claimed her? I mean, she looks the part.”

“That’s what we’re all asking ourselves. We all thought she’d be Aphrodite’s kid.”

Boys and girls flocked towards Y/N like she was a muse. It was no secret that out of all the campers, Y/N stood out the most. There was something unique about her, how she always hung around the aggressive Ares kids like she wanted to be one of them.

She was a tough opponent but a little too soft for Ares’ liking.

Too gentle for Ares but too angry for Aphrodite. She was constantly stuck in the middle. It almost seemed like no god or goddess wanted her in their cabin because she had proved herself over and over again.

“How long has she been unclaimed?” Percy inquired. Kids before him had asked that very same question and every time, they were never ready for the answer.

“A decade.” Luke replied, “She’s been here for a decade. Last year, there was a stupid rumour going around that she was fully mortal but that doesn’t make sense. If she was, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Why so long?”

“Nobody knows.” Luke shrugged. He had wondered that too. And he could see how it was weighing down on Y/N. The unclaimed kid was what campers referred to her as. They used her as an example of what not to do.

“Will she ever get claimed?”

Luke hoped she would. For her sake. He knew how she felt about not having a related family of her own. For now, she was satisfied laughing over silly tales with the Hermes kids.

“So, where does she go during the day? She disappeared yesterday and today.” Percy tilted his head to the side, not being able to spot Y/N anymore. Luke paused. It was uncommon for him to not have an answer to everything.

“I… don’t know. I assume Clarisse and her go somewhere.”

“Probably swimming in the lake.” Grover said, overhearing the two’s conversation.

It was scorching during Summer at Camp Half-Blood. Most stayed in the shade while an occasional kid or two tended to the plants. So it would make sense that Y/N would go to a lake to cool off.

Luke left Percy in the company of Grover and made his way towards the Lake in the middle of the forest. As Grover guessed, he found Y/N and Clarisse and a few other Ares kids swimming in the water or sitting on the nearby rocks.

“Hey, Y/N, your lover boy is here!” One of them exclaimed. Y/N, from her spot in the middle of the lake, glared at him. She huffed before swimming over to Luke, easily heaving herself onto shore.

“Hey, Luke, ready to make your guess yet?” She asked, grinning up at him. “Or do you wanna swim?”

“My guess is definitely not Hephaestus.” Luke said as he sat down in front of Y/N. His gaze flickered to her new swimsuit. “New bathing suit?”

“Yeah. Miya got it for me.” Miya was a child of Aphrodite and favored Y/N quite a lot.

“Ah. No wonder it’s so…” Luke hesitated, “Revealing.” He tried to act like a gentleman but his cheeks flushed every time he even looked at Y/N.

“One more day until I kick your ass.” Y/N laughed as she sank back into the water, returning a moment later with her hair dripping wet and her face shining in the sunlight. She looked effortlessly angelic.

“Are you sure you’re ready to handle Y/N again, Luke? She almost beat you last time.” Clarisse snickered as she floated on her back.

Luke scoffed. “Keyword. Almost.” It was true that Y/N had almost beaten him in his own game of sword fighting but that was because she was becoming increasingly more distracting.

Gone was the shy and quiet kid who always trailed behind Clarisse. With every passing year, Y/N became more headstrong and, well, beautiful. That’s why it was so hard for Luke to keep his feelings to himself now. Even Clarisse could see through his facade.

“I’m ready to make my guess.” Luke finally announced, catching Y/N’s wavering attention. She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “My guess… is Demeter. I met the kid and he seems gentle. A soft and kind soul.”

“Nice. I guess we’ll find out soon.” Y/N’s guess was nothing but a joke and she’d end up laughing if she was actually correct.

“Join me for a little swim?” Y/N asked, reaching out to tug on Luke’s shirt. He sighed while Y/N merely smiled. A moment later, he gave in. Luke lifted his shirt over his head while Y/N stared at him a little too shamelessly for her liking. Some of the Ares boys teasingly wolf-whistled which made Luke chuckle.

He jumped into the lake, practically tackling Y/N and taking her under with him. “Luke!” She yelled, hitting his shoulder when they resurfaced.

“Oh no. The married couple is fighting again.” Zyra, Clarisse’s half-sister, said. She and Clarisse shared a knowing grin.

“They’re so whipped.” Clarisse whispered, subtly swimming away to give the two more space.

It was the day Y/N had eagerly been waiting for. Perhaps her favourite day at Camp. Capture the flag day.

Clarisse handed Y/N a spear. “I got it fixed for you.” The brunette said. During the last game, Y/N’s spear had broken. She was forced to fight with half of it after that.

Y/N adjusted Clarisse’s armour, ensuring that it was tight enough before putting on her own helmet.

“You’re gonna love this.” She overhead Luke say to Percy as they passed by. “Camp-wide mock warfare. All glory to the victors. Annabeth’s the head counsellor. She’s led our team to three straight wins.”

Y/N looked away, giving Luke the perfect chance to gaze over at her. “Y/N and Clarisse lead the other team. Clarisse is rather… impulsive, though. Y/N’s come up with some good plans but Ares kids always go off the rails.”

“What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Percy suddenly switched the topic, much to Luke’s surprise. “I mean, you guys say you’re just friends but you’re always looking at each other. And talking. And you stare at her like she’s your world. Sometimes I wish I could look at someone like that.” Percy sighed while Luke was left speechless.

Luke cleared his throat and shook his head. “Let’s just… focus on the game.”

The conch shell blew. Y/N stood side Clarisse, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Heroes, it’s time.” Chiron announced. “The game begins. The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected.”

He subtly glanced over at Clarisse and her cabin.

“Let the games begin.”

There was twenty minutes until the next conch shell, which meant game-on. Normally, Clarisse and Y/N would pair up and hunt through the woods for the first few hours. But Clarisse had a different idea this time.

“Good luck.” Y/N said to her friend, slinging her spear over her shoulder. Y/N split up with the rest of her team, taking with her small portion of campers.

“We follow Clarisse’s plan this time. We’re the last defense meaning that if the blue team manages to get through, we fight like our lives depend on it.” Y/N said as she gripped her spear tightly.

“What are going to do?” Someone else asked.

“I’m going to…. look around.”

Luke grunted as a sword piercing his upper arm. He easily disarmed his opponent and kicked them to the ground.

“We give up.” The red leader grumbled, wincing as their brushed their fingers over his cuts.

“I wanna move quick. Straight through the woods for their flag.” Luke uttered.

“Y/N and Clarisse hunt in those woods for the first few hours, you know that. They’ll cut us down.”

Luke grinned, shaking his head. “Annabeth has a plan for Clarisse. And Y/N, as always, is mine. Don’t worry about her.”

“Last time I didn’t worry about her, she almost chopped my head off. By accident!” Chris loudly exclaimed, shoving Luke. Unbeknownst to the pair, Y/N was watching from above in the trees, hidden by the thick leaves.

She skilfully hopped from branch to branch, sliding down in front of her teammates. “The blue team is coming. They got past the other defences. Get in position.” Y/N hid behind a thick tree branch, panting and listening carefully for the sound of Luke’s voice.

She heard a twig snap and peeked her head out slightly to see Luke, Chris, and the rest of their small team. Y/N looked up, signalling to her friends above that it was almost time.

The moment Luke, who was leading the pack, stepped right where Y/N wanted him, she revealed herself. “Now!” She shouted, raising her spear and striking Luke. He easily blocked her attack.

“Thought you could ambush us, princess? Nice try.” Luke chuckled, pushing Y/N back.

“I’d say that it worked just fine.” Y/N retorted, lunging at Luke again. She pinned him to a nearby tree, holding the blade of her spear to his throat.

Chris grabbed Y/N by her shirt, pulling her back. Luke swung his sword at her but Y/N simply ducked to avoid the blow.

She tried to run off to help her teammates but Luke blocked her path. “Where do you think you’re going?” He uttered, playfully furrowing his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She pointed at spear at his chest, poking it ever so slightly. “Ready to give up, Luke?”

“In your dreams.” He rolled over, latching onto Y/N’s arm and pulling her down with him. Y/N yelped, quickly scrambling up before he could grab her again.

She looked around at her surroundings, finally understanding what Luke’s plan was. It was to keep Y/N away from her team so that Luke’s could take them down. That left Y/N solely alone, standing between the flag and the blue team.

She panted, glaring at Luke. “Bring it on, Luke.” She muttered, holding up her spear. Luke was the first to make a move. He jumped at her, swinging his blade. Y/N dodged it and blocked another attack from Chris.

She quickly lowered her head, tackling another Hermes kid. Y/N rolled across the floor, swiftly standing up. “You won’t be getting near that flag on my watch.” She kicked Luke and whacked Chris. One of the Athena girls launched herself at Y/N, gripping onto her leg.

Y/N shook her off but the girl’s weight caused her to topple over. The bits of debris grazed at her skin. Chris swung his sword, slashing at Y/N. The blade cut her lower arm and blood welled up from the slit.

Quietly groaning, Y/N heaved herself up. She lightly swayed, unbalanced and a little weak. “Like I said,” She murmured, “You aren’t getting that flag.”

Y/N blocked every attack and blow aimed her way but she was getting slow. She could barely lift her weapon fast enough to stop Luke from successfully landing a hit.

Everything was becoming too overwhelming as she struggled to keep up. It was all a fast blur filled with weapons violently clashing against each other and shouting.

Up above, thunder crashed and lightning flickered through the darkening sky. Rain poured down, drenching the campers.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter as the seconds passed until nobody could ignore it. A harsh flash of lightning hit a tree nearby, setting it alight.

“Y/N, watch out!” Luke shouted, reaching out. Strings of electricity rippled around Y/N as a burning tree branch fell towards her. Luke sprinted towards her, dropping his sword in the process. He tackled Y/N, shielding her from harm’s way.

She groaned as she hit her head, black dots swirling around in her vision. She felt numb and her head lolled to the side as she heard shouts of victory followed by gasps of surprise.

“Y/N L/N has been claimed by Zeus, the king of Gods and the God of thunder and ruler of the sky.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥��～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - careful

a/n: last of the requested fics (that took me too long to write), i hope the anon who requested it will enjoy it :33 also, my manga collection is growing (five new mangas are coming my way) and let me tell you i'm excited asf !!!!!

summary: you hurt yourself during a volleyball match, and tsukki seems to be worried

warnings: none, reader hurts their finger

'aw, shit.'

you tried to hide it, but everyone inside the gym could clearly hear you hissing in pain after the spike hit your fingers a tad bit too hard, ball falling out of the court right after.

karasuno wasn't a school known for having volleyball prodigies, especially concerning the female team - the girl's skills were far from perfect and thoughts of ever winning a high-school championship could only be a dream out of reach for them. the idea of having a training match with the other team to try and improve their skills against a tougher opponent was surely a great one.

except for the fact that you weren't particularly used to spikes being this strong.

asahi looked in fear at your painful expression as michimiya checked up on you, the older student already walking up to apologize over and over, embarrassed with how he couldn't properly manage the strength of his spike. as he walked under the net, already coming up to you, he realized that he was overtaken by someone already.

'would it kill you to at least try and be more careful for one day?'

tsukishima grumbled to himself, fingers intertwined with yours as he firmly held your hand and dragged you away, making sure you heard the annoyance in his tone. he wasn't mad at you - if anything, he was worried and irritated with the turn of events.

he huffed, motioning for you to sit down at the bench, eyes scanning the gym hall for one of their managers, whom he intended to ask for the tape and bandages, as well as something to reduce the swelling. fortunately for him, he didn't have to ask, as yachi had run to get those things the moment she noticed the accident happen.

the blonde girl smiled at you, crouching down next to the bench.

'i can take it from here-'

'no need.'

she turned to face tsukishima, but he didn't even let her finish the sentence, already grabbing the stuff from her hands as he put the ice pack over your fingers carefully.

'does it hurt?' he mumbled the question, reaching for the bandages.

'you're being so dramatic right now, kei.' your words gained an annoyed huff from him. 'i barely got hit.'

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, it hurts a little.' you admitted, trying to move your index finger a few times, a jolt of pain making your face scrunch.

'then it needs to be taken care of.'

the two of you seemed to have ignored the overbearing silence from other club members, most standing over you to make sure you're alright, some still waiting for the match to continue. tsukishima seemed to be in his own little world, completely focused on properly bandaging your fingers, hands carefully wrapping it around, making sure he didn't accidentally hurt you in the process.

there was always some sort of gentleness in everything he did around you; from his eyes, usually so cold and emotionless, that would always stare at you with utmost love and care, to the occasional touches, small and, for some, insignificant, that were more than enough for the blonde to show you that he cares.

whenever with you, his facade would slowly crumble, the true nature behind it out in the open.

'aww look guys, tsukishima is actually not a heartless monster!'

his fingers froze in place, and if it weren't for the fact he was handling you at the moment, tanaka's comment would probably make him leave the gym with an annoyed huff.

the boy turned around for a second, a smile gracing his face.

'that's why the girl i like actually said yes.' he adjusted his glasses, head slightly tilted to the side. 'and how is that going for you?'

you couldn't help but crack a smile at tanaka's enraged expression, the upperclassmen having to hold him back from smacking the blonde first year, all giggling as they watched the scene unfold.

'don't be so cocky, kei.' you mumbled in his ear, standing up from your seat as you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder with your healthy hand. 'i don't think i have to remind you that i had to ask you out because you were too much of a coward-'

'we can leave that out of the conversation.'

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @luvvrgirll @serotoninbarbz @sugaraddict301

[charliedawn]

What if the nurse was bad ?

I thought…What if Nurse Y/N turned out to be a VILLAIN. 😀

Synopsis: There was the rumour of Nurse Y/N going insane and it influenced the slashers to act…differently.

Jason Voorhees

The first one to lose his mind was Jason. He felt it from the start as you became distant and your thoughts darkened. He tried to help you. You were their hope and their light in darkness. He thought he could help, that you would get better. But nothing he did seem to work, and it only made him feel worse and worse as you started growing distant and more insane as time passed. Soon enough, he became more violent himself and some of the nurses noticed his slow return to his old self. And then, he became YOUR monster. He started protecting you and return to his complete muteness and murderous self…He would attack nurses and no word or anything could stop him…And you would simply watch with a smile on your face. The medical board tried to stop you, but it was no use. You were too far gone. At the end, the slashers were back to their old selves and there was nothing to bring you back from the madness that was slowly taking over you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was the second to notice your sudden change. You were being more commanding and your eyes no longer held that same kindness he had grown to love. You seemed so cold. But, he still wanted to believe…Brahms still remained your friend until the very end—even when he saw that there was no turning back for you. At the end, he started returning in the walls and make more victims within the hospital. He would drag nurses or random people in his walls and they would never come back. Your own instability echoed within him and the rage and the loss and the suffering returned.

At the end, he dropped to his knees in front of you—his hands covered in blood after you had told him to kill for you. He looked up at you and his eyes held only one question within their depth.

Why ?

Brahms was scared.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo started spacing out at random times. He would get angry for no reason and destroy furniture. At night, he would hold his head and scream as he felt his thoughts turning dark and murderous. He didn’t know why. He had been happy for a few years in St Louis—free from pain. He had just started accepting that things were going to change and he could be happy…but then, he had sensed this sudden unease and unexpected shift. He looked up at you and his eyes widened as he saw you standing there.

"Darlin’. Please…I…" He wanted to ask for your help and held out his hand…but then you smiled. And it wasn’t your usual cheerful or friendly smile. It was a mocking one. A cruel one.

And that’s when he understood and Bo who had never felt anything but pain and suffering and who thought he couldn’t get any worse…was proven wrong. Because nothing hurt more than being offered hope and being deprived of it. In the end, Bo became more dangerous than ever. His rage had no outlet except through violence, and he took it out on anyone who dared cross you. He would protect you, but deep down, he hated what you had become—and what you were turning him back into.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy had always suspected there was a darker side to you. Sure, you acted like the saint of St. Louis, helping out the slashers, showing compassion, and trying to reform them. But Freddy had been around long enough to know that no one was as pure as they seemed. When your shift started, it didn’t take him by surprise—it just confirmed what he’d been thinking all along.

"Heh, I knew it," he cackled, crossing his arms as he watched you lose that last bit of sanity. His grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement as you stood over the bloodied remains of yet another victim. "You never really believed in all that goody-two-shoes crap, did ya ?"

You turned to him, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I did…for a while. But now I see…why change you for the better, Freddy, when I can turn you into something so far worse ?"

For once, Freddy didn’t have a snappy comeback. The realization hit him hard, the smirk faltering for a brief moment as he looked into your eyes and saw nothing but malice. You weren’t just playing the game—you had flipped the board, and now you were controlling the pieces.

"You twisted bitch," Freddy finally hissed, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice. He didn’t want to admit it, but seeing you this way made him feel…uneasy. Sure, he liked chaos, liked causing pain, but this was different. You weren’t just embracing the madness—you were becoming it.

You laughed harder and Freddy could see your true colours now. He could see…

And yet, even as the realization set in, Freddy found himself drawn to your darkness. After all, who better to lead him back into his worst impulses than you ? You were the monster now, and Freddy ? Well, he was more than happy to follow your lead, no matter where it took him.

Michael Myers

Michael felt it long before anyone else did. The subtle shift in your demeanor, the distant look in your eyes—it wasn’t something he could easily put into words, not that he ever would. He watched you from the shadows, his protective nature shifting into something more possessive, much darker. As you slipped further into madness, he stopped trying to pull you back. He just…followed.

When the first body showed up, Michael stood silently beside you, his knife gleaming in the dim light. You didn’t flinch or recoil at the sight of the blood, instead offering him a wicked smile that sent a chill down his spine. He understood then—you were no longer the guiding force, the light in his darkness. You had become the very thing that pulled him deeper into it.

From that moment on, anyone who tried to "help" you faced Michael’s blade. He would watch you from across the room, eyes cold and distant, but never leaving your side. You were his now, and nothing—not even your madness—would change that.

Pennywise

Pennywise had always seen the potential for chaos in you, even when you were at your most compassionate. So when you started to change, it didn’t come as a shock to him—it was thrilling. "Oh, my little nurse, finally embracing the madness, are we ?" he’d chuckle, floating around you with a twisted grin. He didn’t resist your transformation; instead, he fed off of it.

"Why stop at a few lives ? You and I, we could rule this world, turn everyone’s worst nightmares into reality," Pennywise teased, his voice dripping with excitement. You laughed along, your eyes gleaming with a newfound hunger for destruction.

Together, you unleashed horrors in the hospital and the world would learn to utter your name in fear. And Pennywise ? He reveled in it, proud to have been right about you all along. He became your partner in terror, following your lead as he fed on souls. All mercy and redemption gone…

But, sometimes he would look at you—really look at you—and his eyes would lose their light for just a second…For just a fleeting second, he would look at you and remember who you used to be: the innocent and loved little nurse who made slashers believe in change. And he would feel a tug in his chest.

…He would even come to regret the old you.

Penny

Penny, unlike his brother, was more confused than delighted by your change. He’d always been the more playful one, the lighthearted monster who didn’t take things too seriously. But as you grew colder, more distant, something inside him shifted too. He followed you around like a lost puppy at first, hoping you’d come back to your old self.

When it became clear that wasn’t happening, Penny grew more frantic, trying to win your approval by any means necessary. "See ? I can be bad too !" he’d shout, laughing maniacally as he tore into the nurses that tried to intervene. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t bring back the warmth in your eyes. And that scared him more than anything.

In the end, Penny followed you out of fear and desperation. He didn’t want to lose you, but he also didn’t understand this new version of you. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up. He looked at his brother one night as they were keeping your door and asked:

"Pennywise…Tell me. Are they really…Are they really gone ?"

Pennywise didn’t answer. He knew that his brother wouldn’t like his answer. So, he remained silent and Penny became sad…

He had really hoped to see you again.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent never said a word, but the change in you spoke volumes to him. He had always admired your gentleness, the way you handled things with care and grace. But now, as he watched you descend into madness, something inside him broke. His art became darker, more grotesque, reflecting the growing corruption in your soul.

Vincent would silently stand in your presence, waiting for your orders. He didn’t resist the shift; instead, he internalized it, letting it fuel his own creative darkness. The sculptures he made of the staff you ordered killed were more terrifying than anything he had ever crafted before. But still, there was a sadness in his eyes as he looked at you. He missed the old you, but he could never bring himself to fight against you.

Esther

Esther’s sharp mind was one of the first to notice your change. She watched you closely, her eyes narrowing as she began to see through the cracks in your facade. At first, she tried to manipulate you back to your old self, using her charm and wit. But as time passed, she realized it was no use.

"You think you’re smarter than me, Y/N ?" she sneered one day, her usual mask of sweetness slipping away. "You think you can out-crazy me ? I’ve been playing this game far longer than you."

In the end, Esther didn’t fight you—she adapted. She started playing her own games, twisting the narrative so that your descent into madness worked in her favor. She would help you orchestrate the chaos, but only because she had plans of her own. Esther always had plans.

Father Paul

Father Paul was devastated. As a man of faith, he had always believed in redemption, in the possibility of salvation for anyone, even the most broken souls. But as he watched you fall deeper into madness, he realized that maybe some people were beyond saving.

He would try to reach you, try to remind you of the good you had once done, but it was no use. "This isn’t you, Y/N," he’d say, his voice trembling with emotion. "You can still come back from this."

But you would just laugh, brushing him off as if his words meant nothing. Father Paul, broken by your transformation, withdrew into himself. He began to question his faith, his purpose. And in the end, he too was consumed by the darkness you had unleashed, unable to reconcile the person you had become with the one he had once believed in.

"…I truly believed you were going to save us."

He whispered—his mouth tainted with fresh blood.

Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman thrived on control. His routines, his polished appearance, his hollow social niceties—all carefully orchestrated to maintain his perfect image. But as he watched you, Nurse Y/N, descend into madness, he felt something shift, a crack forming in the foundation of his meticulously built world.

"You’ve changed," Patrick remarked, his voice cold and detached, as always.

You turned to him, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. "Change, Patrick ? I’d say I’m finally seeing things clearly."

Patrick tilted his head, his expression unreadable. He stared at you with a calculating gaze, as if you were just another piece of his carefully constructed reality that didn’t fit anymore. "Clarity doesn’t look like insanity," he said, though his tone betrayed no emotion.

You laughed softly, your eyes glinting with something dark. "That’s where you’re wrong. You’re always pretending, Patrick. Pretending to feel something. Pretending to fit in. But deep down, you know you’re like me."

Patrick’s gaze never wavered. He took a step closer, his face a mask of indifference, though your words hit closer to the truth than he would admit. "I’m nothing like you," he said flatly, yet there was a hint of intrigue in his voice.

"Oh, but you are," you whispered, stepping toward him. "You’ve been hiding behind that empty suit for so long, playing the role of the perfect man. But inside, you’re empty. Just like me. We’re both killers, Patrick. The only difference is, I’ve stopped pretending."

He blinked, his face as stoic as ever, but inside, something stirred. There was no rage, no fear, only a cold calculation. He didn’t care about your madness or what you had become. But there was a faint pull, the idea of relinquishing the last shred of his humanity that kept him tethered to this charade of normalcy. He was intrigued by your boldness, by how freely you had let go.

But he remained still, expressionless. "I don’t pretend," he said quietly. "I just don’t care."

You laughed again, this time louder, more manic. "And that’s what makes you dangerous, Patrick. You don’t care. You’ve never cared. But soon enough, you’ll realize how liberating that can be."

Patrick stared at you for a moment longer, no emotion flickering behind his eyes. "Liberating ?" he repeated, as if the word were foreign to him.

"Yes," you said with a smirk, turning away. "Because when you stop pretending, when you embrace what you really are, there’s nothing left to hold you back."

He didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. He’d long since stopped feeling the need to explain himself. Whatever you were becoming, whatever madness had claimed you, it didn’t concern him. You were spiraling out of control, and he would remain steady, detached. Yet, as he watched you walk away, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Because, in the end, chaos or control—it made no difference to him.

Norman Bates

Norman was never the same after witnessing the shift in you. At first, he felt a glimmer of hope in your kindness, a belief that maybe you could help him escape the shadows of his past. But that hope quickly faded as you transformed into something darker. The gentle demeanor he had grown to trust turned icy, and the warmth of your presence became a cold specter haunting him.

"Y/N ?" he ventured one night, his voice trembling. You stood amidst a room filled with remnants of your darker whims, the glint of madness shining in your eyes.

"What happened to you ?" he asked, genuinely confused and hurt. The memory of the compassion you once offered felt like a distant dream.

You tilted your head, a smile playing on your lips, but it lacked warmth. "Oh, Norman, don’t you see ? I’ve always been this way. You just never noticed until now."

Norman's heart sank as he realized that the person he trusted most had turned into a reflection of the very darkness he fought against. "But I thought we could—"

You interrupted, your voice sharp. "Could what ? Change ? Adapt ? Look at what you’ve become, Norman. You’re still clinging to that fragile sense of normalcy. But we both know it’s a façade. You are a monster. You will always be a monster."

In that moment, the realization hit him hard. He had thought you were a beacon, a chance for redemption, but instead, you were leading him down a path of destruction. And as he watched you revel in the chaos you created, he felt his own sanity begin to slip. In the end, he would become your puppet, lost to the madness you had decided to embrace.

BONUS

You jolted awake, gasping for breath, heart pounding as the vivid nightmare clung to your mind. It felt so real—the madness, the blood, the slashers losing control, becoming monsters all over again. You clutched the blanket, eyes darting around the darkened room, disoriented and shaking.

The scream you had let out echoed in the silence of the night, and before you could fully gather your bearings, the door burst open. Jason was the first to appear, his imposing figure standing in the doorway—his machete raised and at the ready. He looked around frantically for any sign of danger—but found none. He moved quickly to your side, his large hand resting awkwardly on your shoulder, trying to offer comfort in the only way he knew how.

Brahms was next, peeking from behind Jason, his eyes wide with worry. He didn't say anything—just stared, his usual playful demeanor replaced with deep concern. He slowly made his way to your side, almost afraid to get too close but desperate to offer comfort. He knelt beside you, his hand shaking slightly as he reached out to touch your arm, his eyes searching yours, as if pleading for reassurance that you were okay.

Michael entered quietly, his presence felt more than seen in the dim light. He didn't rush to you immediately, his pace slow and deliberate. He observed you carefully, and then pulled out his notebook from his pocket, writing something down before showing you: What happened ?

He sat at the edge of the bed, his silent and comforting company grounding you in the moment.

Bo Sinclair appeared not long after, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern, as if he'd been dragged out of a deep sleep but couldn’t help but care. "Darlin', you alright ?" His Southern accent soft, the usual sharpness in his tone dulled by the worry in his eyes. He stood there for a moment, arms crossed, before moving to your side, brushing his hand over your hair. "Was it a nightmare ?"

Vincent slipped in quietly behind his brother, standing in the shadows. He didn’t make a sound, but his presence alone was soothing, as if he was there simply to watch over you in case you needed anything. He gave a small nod, acknowledging that he was there for you.

Freddy was last, strutting in with his usual cocky grin, but even he paused when he saw your trembling form. "Nightmares, huh ? Not my work this time, I swear," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual venom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the others crowd around you, before adding, "What kinda monster dreams are getting to you now ?"

But there was a strange softness in his voice, an unspoken understanding. He might have been a nightmare in the past, but seeing you like this—it wasn’t his domain. He wasn't your tormentor. Not anymore.

Jason stayed close, holding your hand gently, as if afraid to hurt you but wanting to let you know he was there. Brahms crawled up on the bed beside you, still staring at you with wide eyes, his head tilting as he kept trying to make sense of your distress. Michael’s calm, steady presence, coupled with the note in his notebook, reminded you that they were all here to protect you. Bo's hand never left your hair, his brother Vincent still watching from the corner, always there but never imposing.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, the warmth of their concern slowly easing the tension in your chest. You could see the lingering fear in their eyes—the slashers who had been transformed from nightmares themselves into...your friends.

"I’m okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly.

But Freddy, of course, wasn’t one to let it go so easily. "You sure about that, sweetheart ? Looked like hell got a hold of you."

You offered a weak smile, shaking your head. "It was just a bad dream."

Jason squeezed your hand a little tighter, as if to remind you that whatever had happened in your nightmare, this was reality now. And in this reality, they were here for you.

Michael scribbled on his notebook again, holding it up: You’re safe.

And, for the first time since waking up, you believed it. Surrounded by the once fearsome killers, you felt safe. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath…Yes. You were safe. Everything was alright. You would make sure of it…

[booksooks]

𝕭𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑

Author's Note: I've been writing this since 2022... and it's finally here. I hope y'all enjoy, I tried. I know there's not a TONNn of urgency in this fic but oh well.

Contents: Aphrodisiac spell, giving Alucard that gawkgawk slonky tonky 3000, public oral sex, a little bit of blood,

Word Count: 3390

Summary: When Alucard mistakenly reads an aphrodisiac spell and you stumble across him in need, who are you to deny him?

Although the Belmont estate had been destroyed, its hold was still intact and something to be marveled at. Sypha had opened the door using Enochian magic, and your merry band traipsed down the long staircase, poking fun at each other and only half-joking the entire way. 

“All the dark things moved into the east,” Trevor was explaining, leading the way. “I think it was a… Leon Belmont who entered the region first.”

You weren’t paying much attention, too focused on the basement’s awe-inspiring design and structure to really take in what he was saying about his family’s past. Sypha used her magic to send fire to all the torches in the library, lighting every corridor and hallway. When everyone reached the bottom of the stairs, you all split up to see what you could find in the library to help defeat Dracula. Trevor had wandered off to find some relics, and Sypha followed, teasing the brooding man relentlessly. Alucard had gone in the other direction by himself, leaving you standing in the middle of the underground library wondering what to do. Where to go.

You weren’t entirely sure of your place in the group. Everyone seemed to have at least one redeeming quality that proved useful in battle, aside from you. Trevor had learned his fighting skills from his family, Sypha was a Speaker magician, and of course there was Alucard, who was the son of Dracula. Then came you. You had an incredible touch for healing, and you were decent at protection spells and ways to ward off evil, but there wasn’t much else you could do. You weren’t good for really anything involving combat, only for the aftermath. So you did your best to stay out of the way and make yourself the least of anyone’s worries. 

Right now, you needed to make headway in finding out how to defeat Dracula. The vampire’s attempts at taking over all of Wallachia were growing ever more successful, and the monsters that came at night were becoming more vicious. You shuddered at the memory of the carnage that was your old hometown and decided to follow Alucard’s path, but more slowly and thoroughly than he did. Your old home was destroyed shortly before you met up with Sypha’s group of Speakers who offered to take you in as the remaining survivor of the entire town when they passed through. They were incredibly kind to you, despite your original hostility towards them. They were strangers after all. But Arn and Sypha were persistently kind in the way that only grumpy cats could be, and soon you warmed up to them. Trevor and Alucard you were still mildly wary of, but Sypha seemed to trust them and you trusted Sypha. So you kept yourself quiet, out of the way, alive, and did the best you could to clean up everyone else’s mess after every fight, which you didn’t mind. You’d rather be healing and protecting than on your own in these times. 

You turned your attention back to the rows and rows of books and odd keepsakes on every shelf in sight, running your fingers over the dusty tops of volumes and immediately regretting that decision. A thick layer of dirt and fuzz sat on the top of each page, and you shook your hand to get it off. Then you leaned in closer to inspect them, you were here to look for vampire related defense after all. The Proper Way To Restrain, Exorcize, And Kill (If Needed) Witches by Tiphaeus E. Hildebrand stared up at you from the bookshelf, and you backed away from it. You considered yourself somewhat of a baby witch, a witchling even, and you had no desire to be exorcized. This clearly wasn’t the right section, and Alucard had clearly come to the same conclusion because he was nowhere you could see. The shelves in the row you were in all seemed to carry the same theme of exterminating witches and the like. There were a few bones and relics on a ledge further down, all carved with runes and pentagrams. You checked to make sure no one was around before shoving a few small finger bones in your pockets, knowing they could come in handy (ha) as amplifiers of your power or just as keepsakes. You’d study the runes later, when you weren’t on a bit of a time crunch. 

Sighing, you decided to leave that aisle and move on to another section of the hold, seeing as the one you were in wouldn’t be helpful. You turned left, into another, secluded hallway of the library, hoping to find something more useful than how to get rid of witches. The ceiling was taller here, and the bookshelves extended even further too. Rolling ladders were attached to every shelf, for the convenience of any eager reader, though you suspected the wood had rotted away after all these years. You tested your weight against one curiously, and it surprisingly held your weight. Perhaps the wood was in better condition than you thought. 

A noise came from your right. You froze and glanced towards the shelf where the noise came from. It was faint, a sort of whining, anguished groan, every few seconds. You drew the short knife that you kept in your belt for gathering herbs, holding it close to your face. It had been decades since the hold had been opened, you didn’t know what sort of creatures lurked down here. Coming around the corner of the bookcase slowly, you expected to see some sort of creature scrabbling around in the tomes. Instead, you saw Alucard, in the most vulnerable state you had seen him - or anyone else for that matter - in. 

His golden hair curled over his shoulders, which were hunched and shaking. His legs were spread out in front of him and were also twitching, and one of his hands was down his pants… oh- Oh.

Oh!  

Alucard was vigorously stroking his cock, one hand covering his mouth to try and stifle the noises that were trying to claw out of his throat. When he tilted his head back, you could see his face and neck were flushed, and his chest was heaving. A large book laid open next to him, flipped to a page covered in curled lines and large, pretty runes. The very words seductive, trying to lure you in to read the spell to its completion. Bad choice of words!

Alucard’s movements drew you back to him, and you saw his hips jerking into his palms as he spilled ropes of come into his hand. The hand over his mouth did nothing to muffle the groans of pleasure that he made, and as he finished he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes widened in surprise and humiliation, and he turned away quickly in pleasured agony. As he tried to shove his (surprisingly still hard) cock back into his pants. 

“Sh-shit,” he muttered, his blush almost worse than before. You fumbled to put your knife away and turned around, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen Alucard desperately jerking off. “Did-did you find anything? Where are the others?” Alucard’s voice sounded strained, as if he was still… afflicted. 

You huffed out a breath, trying to calm the heat sparking in your lower belly before answering shakily. “N-no, nothing’s been found. The others are still looking but I came looking for you. Or-or to see if you found anything. Or-” You cut yourself off, recognizing your rambling. “What happened?”

Alucard made several noises of either protest or pleasure, and then it sounded like he shifted positions. “I.. I accidentally picked up a book and read a spell without,” he paused to moan again, “without reading the description.” 

Nodding, you turned back around to face him, keeping your eyes on the book. “And it made you… like this?” 

Alucard whimpered, and then cut himself off midway. You focused on the volume once more. The spells’ curling script and fancy wording practically begged you to read more, to drink in every letter and let the magic flow through your veins, settling into your bones with an essence in the way that only magic could. You shook your head and rubbed your eyes to try and stop the spell from taking ahold of you. Covering the spell, you grabbed the book by its thick, heavy pages and dragged it towards you. Your eyes flickered over the description, quickly realizing what had happened. 

“Well, you read,” you paused and sighed. Of course something like this would happen when you were looking for something to save the world. “You read an aphrodisiac spell. And it says here the spell won’t be broken unless you- finish. By someone else’s hand.” 

You looked up at Alucard for the first time since you had walked in on him, and tried to will away the strong arousal building within you. His eyes were semi-glazed over, and now that you were focused on his face, his lower lip was bleeding, one of his fangs stuck into the plush skin. He moaned and squirmed, shuddering as he fought to not put his hand down his pants again. 

“That would explain why this feeling hasn’t gone away,” Alucard muttered, giving in to the desire flowing through his veins. It was an itchy, uncomfortably warm feeling that lessened with each time he came, but not by much. As soon as his digits made contact with his overly-sensitive cock, he moaned again, then he remembered you were staring at him still and stopped himself, barely. “I need your help.”

You coughed, startled by the request. You knew what Alucard meant by “help” but your mind refused to believe he actually wanted your help getting off. It was certainly just because you were the only one available at the moment, and you had already seen him in this vulnerable state. Definitely not because he thought you were attractive, or because he wanted you. Definitely not. But you could hope. 

You took a reinforcing breath, and moved yourself so that you were sitting between Alucard’s legs, his back pressed against the spines of countless books and his hair curling around his shoulders. You had always loved his hair, but now wasn’t the time to admire it. 

With more reverence than you would like to admit, you ever-so-slowly leaned in, and- 

You hesitated, lips right above Alucard’s. You could feel his breath, surprisingly cold, puffing out intermittently against your mouth, and he actually whined in frustration the longer you hesitated. You flicked your gaze up from his lips to his golden eyes, and you saw the frustration flashing within their depths. 

“Now is not the time for teasing,” he growled. His shaky hands moved from gripping his pants to your shoulders, still deathly tight. 

You sighed, apprehensive, and drew back. “I-I’m not trying to tease you, just… are you sure you want me to do this? I can go get Trevor or Sypha-”

“I don’t want Trevor or Sypha,” he growled again, giving your shoulders a firm jostle. “Just… Please, help me.” 

You had never heard Alucard beg before. Then again, you hadn’t known him for very long but he didn’t seem like the begging type. Hold on, what were you thinking ? Here was someone, very clearly in need of your help, and all you could think about was how you had never heard him beg before? You needed to work on your priorities, that was for sure. “Right, of course.” 

With those final words, you steeled yourself and closed the distance between the two of you, finally quelling some of the rising heat in Alucard. 

The kiss started off chaste, sweet and innocent despite the Dhampir’s obvious arousal. But the bolt of electricity that ran through you at the contact was anything but innocent, and, coupled with a low groan rumbling from deep within Alucard’s chest, made you want more. You drew back for a quick breath of air, the taste of his blood lingering on your lips. Alucard, now that he had gotten a taste of you, immediately disliked the space you had created between you two, and dug his nails into the soft flesh of your shoulders to pull you back in. 

This time, the kiss was hungrier, teeth clacking as you tilted your head and ran your tongue across the seam of his lips. The taste of blood was stronger now, and Alucard let out the most delicious moan when your tongue tentatively licked inside his mouth. In fact, the noises the both of you made were lewd and downright sinful , heavy breathing and the slick, clicking of spit being exchanged. 

It took everything in Alucard to not push you down and take you right then and there, with no preparation or any communication whatsoever. But he didn’t. Instead, Alucard dragged his hands down your torso, squeezing and eager to feel you against him as he tugged you to sit closer to him, almost directly in his lap. 

“ F-fuck… ” he gasped against your mouth, the sound muffled by the hungry clash of lips. His hands tightened their grip on your body, nails digging in just enough to make you wince. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but rather a reminder of his strength, of how badly he wanted this - wanted you.

He seemed to revel in the friction of your bodies pressed together. The feeling of your chest against his, legs spread over his and wrapped around his waist, warm tongue and teeth clashing with his… It was euphoric. You could tell with the way Alucard moaned and whined into your mouth that he was enjoying himself, and he positively squirmed beneath you, hips rocking up for any sort of pleasure. 

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, grinding and writhing in kind and settling into a slow, easy rhythm. The sensation of his hard cock, already hot and heavy, pressing against your core sent shivers down your spine, making you ache for more. When you broke the kiss again, a long string of spit connected your mouths, and Alucard’s lips followed you briefly before he remembered himself. 

“I’m not going to last much longer if we keep,” Alucard started, and then trailed off at the sound of his own wrecked voice, “If we keep going.” 

You nodded, and reluctantly slid off of his lap to crouch in front of him. You pawed at the lacings of his trousers, still undone from his earlier attempts at relief. Alucard watched, transfixed, as your fingers worked at the lacing, the anticipation building to an unbearable level. When you finally managed to free his straining erection, it sprang up, thick and throbbing, the entire length slick with his previous orgasm. The tip was flushed an angry red, and when you tentatively wrapped a hand around the base, you felt him throb harder in your grasp as precome flowed freely from the slit. 

You felt drool gathering in your jaw, something primal inside you crying out to lick away all signs of life from him. To suck him silly, in other words. 

Alucard, to his credit, looked absolutely lost in pleasure, His head had dropped back onto the bookshelf behind him, and with every twitch of your hand or shaky exhale that brushed against his shaft, he whimpered. His hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more contact. A choked moan escaped his lips as your fingers wrapped more securely around the base, stroking lightly. The sensation of your warm skin against his sensitive flesh was exquisite, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his aching balls. 

You were content to just keep doing that, admiring his member kick and twitch in your hand as you slowly jerked him off. He was doing a surprisingly good job of restraining himself, you thought, right as one of his hands clamped down on the back of your neck and guided your head towards him. “Make me come,” he demanded, although it sounded more like a prayer than anything else, “please.” 

As your lips neared his throbbing erection, Alucard’s breath hitched, his chest heaving with anticipation. When your mouth finally enveloped the head of his cock, he let out a ragged groan, the sound echoing through the room. You shot a glare at him, still vaguely aware that Sypha and Trevor were somewhere in the library with you. 

As soon as your lips enveloped the head of his cock, Alucard's grip on the back of your neck tightened, holding you in place. He rocked his hips slightly, thrusting shallowly into the warm cavern of your mouth, and the sensation of your tongue swirling around the sensitive underside of his cockhead made him shudder. 

Each second with his dick in your mouth was another second in heaven for Alucard, while the taste of him, salty and musky, filled your senses. You couldn't help but let out a soft hum of approval around his length. Creating a suction with hollowed cheeks, you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass until your nose pressed against the wiry blond hairs at his pelvis, suppressing the need to gag around him with deep breaths through your nose. Alucard’s reaction was immediate – a sharp intake of breath, his hips jerking forward, and a loud, guttural moan that vibrated through you. 

You pulled back slightly, letting his cock slip from your lips with a wet pop. Your throat ached at the sight of his prick, still shiny and wet with your spit. Wincing when you swallowed, you changed tactics and started paying heavy attention to his tip, lapping at his slit with soft, almost loving kitten licks and kisses while your hand continued to stroke him off. Alucard’s noises were quieter now, heavy panting and the occasional strangled whine that slipped past his lips as he throbbed in your hand. You swore you could even feel the veins pulsating in your grip. 

Alucard nearly sobbed above you, hips still thrusting as he chased his orgasm. Your mouth just felt so good, each suckle and swirl of your talented tongue driving him closer to the edge. He was not above begging, as you had experienced by now, and while you didn’t want to be mean, the desire to simply pull your mouth away from him entirely and make him beg to come was enticing. Enticing, but not necessary, at least not in the moment. 

It didn’t take much longer for Alucard to finish, jerking his cockhead almost violently into the back of your throat and making you choke as he let out a sharp cry as his orgasm crashed down over him. You continued to swallow around him, even as the urge to spit up everything overwhelmed you. Alucard’s reaction was immediate and severe, a sharp inhale and the stuttering of hips as bliss quickly turned to overstimulation. The hand on the back of your neck moved to push gently at your head. You pulled back obediently, giving his softening cock one last, gentle lick before releasing it altogether. A string of saliva and cum connected your lips to the tip for a moment before breaking. 

You swallowed down the remnants of Alucard’s come, pulling a face at the tangy taste that lingered on your tongue. “All done?” you asked, figuring it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Alucard's chest heaved with ragged breaths as he gazed down at you, his golden eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips, revealing a hint of fang. “Yes, thank you. I-” 

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching the pair of you, the voices of Sypha and Trevor calling out your names. You shot a panicked look towards Alucard, who suddenly looked a lot less blissed-out, with his pants still undone and dick still out. 

“Are you guys alright?” Came Sypha's voice, much clearer and much closer than the footsteps had indicated. “We heard noises and- Ohh. Trevor, don’t-” 

“Too late,” Trevor groaned, one hand over his eyes. “Why my childhood basement, you guys?” 

You sat back on your heels, face smoking hot, and prayed to whatever god was out there that the ground would swallow you up right then and there. Like you had with Alucard’s-

18+ Divider by: @cafekitsune

Golden Rose Divider by: @sweetmelodygraphics

AO3 || Masterlist

End Notes: thank u for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if theres enough demand i might write a part 2 but who knows :p requests are OPEN!

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[ro-is-struggling]

His || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Geralt takes pity on a family of farmers in an isolated village surrounded by misfortune. After saving them from the clutches of a beast, the head of the family proposes to pay the witcher for his services by offering him the hand of his only daughter in marriage. He does not want to accept it at first —the life of a witcher was incompatible with the concept of marriage—, but after getting to know the young lady better and understanding the cruel fate that awaited her if he did not intervene, Geralt feels the need to protect her

Warnings: fem!reader, arranged marriage (kinda), protective and possessive Geralt (let’s gooo), a bit of angst, mentions of scars (both Geralt’s and the reader’s), fluff, SMUT MINORS DNI, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (not realistic), porn with feelings (or at least I tried), porn with plot, penetrative sex, possessive Geralt (yes, again), size kink, fingering, creampie, my obsession with Geralt’s thighs, pet names (dove), let me know if a forgot anything!! 

English is not my first language

Word count: 23.200 (I had fun, okay?)

Note: this fic is probably very inaccurate regarding the life of a farmer and the traditions of marriage in the witcher universe/medieval times, but if I researched that in depth this fic would never have seen the light of day lol I hope you don't mind.

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Geralt of Rivia was not known for working for free. Like all witchers, he made a living using the skills that had been instilled in him, killing monsters for a price and ridding the continent of evil beings. It was a noble cause, a tough job that someone had to do to ensure the welfare of the population. But that was all it was, just a job. He had learned the hard way that he was no hero or knight in shining armor. People didn't see him that way anyway, so it was stupid of him to try to be something he was not. His skills were not to be wasted on saving helpless women on the side of the road or on charity work, that much was clear to him. The people he saved were not going to give him recognition. They were not going to shower him with gifts and sing songs about his heroic deeds as they did with knights returning from battle because he was not a hero. People tended to see witchers as mutated freaks, but they recognized that, from time to time, they had a use for them. So he —and all of his kind— had to make sure to charge well for his services since that was the only thing people were willing to give him in return for his efforts. So Geralt did not work for free.

That's why when the residents of a small town he was passing through approached him for help he had to turn them down. They were troubled by disappearances and strange, brutal deaths that they could not explain. Some swore they saw a creature prowling in the night, growling and howling as it searched for its next victim, but no one knew what it was. However, the small town of farmers and craftsmen was not going through a good time financially speaking. A combination of bad weather and a plague had ruined the crops, so they didn't have much money to spend.

“If you want gold you should go talk to Lord Veldren, he's taking from us what little we have,” was the answer Geralt was usually given when the subject of payment came up in conversation. It was nothing he had not heard before, nobles who did not tighten the pockets of their people were few. But there was a pain in the eyes of the villagers, an anger in their voices as they spoke, that caught Geralt's attention. He wondered what kind of things this Lord Veldren would do to evoke such a reaction in the people.

There was one particular family of farmers that caught his attention. A weeping woman begged for the life of her eldest son who had been taken by the beast. According to her tales, the people, tired of being harassed and intimidated by the creature, organized to do the work that their Lord refused to do. The bravest and most skilled men of all the families went out to hunt it under the light of the full moon and that was the last time they were seen alive. Parts of the remains were still turning up around the village and discovered lost among the crops, although damaged beyond recognition. Many of the families did not have a body to bury and that was part of the reason they were all so shaken. They had lost husbands, sons, friends and protectors that night and it had all been for nothing.

The woman wept in the arms of her husband who did his best to contain her, but even he was unable to hide the sadness that overwhelmed him. There was something in her grief that struck a chord deep inside Geralt. He couldn't explain why, but he didn't feel right going through town and leaving them behind with their suffering. So, as they had no money to pay for his services, he took the villagers' concerns directly to Lord Veldren. They had told him that he was aware of the problem, but had no desire to do anything about it. But maybe things would be different now that Geralt was there. Maybe the Lord's whole problem was that he didn't want to get his hands dirty and would rather let his people die than risk his own skin. But now that the witcher was there to do his dirty work for him maybe his predisposition would be different.

No one in the village had much faith that it would work, but they showed Geralt how to get to him. Some even walked with him, taking advantage of the moment to tell him as much detail as they could about the danger they were in. Some of their stories the witcher could attribute to the collective panic that had taken hold of the town since some of them were things that he, in all his years of experience, had never heard of. But others helped him compile a list of possible responsible creatures, which grew smaller and smaller with each story he heard.

When he reached his destination, Geralt wished he had listened to the villagers' warnings. He knew his share of rude and unwise nobles, but none compared to Lord Veldren. He barely looked at him for the entirety of their meeting —which was not long— as if to lay eyes on him was a privilege the witcher did not deserve. Nor did he let him speak for long, barely getting as far as presenting the problem before Lord Veldren was shooing him away with an expression of disinterest on his face.

“It's interesting that you're the one presenting the problem,” he said in an accusatory tone when Geralt insisted on the danger to the villagers. “You're a witcher who kills beasts for a living. All you want is to fill your pockets with MY riches.”

“You, my Lord, surely must know that this problem has existed long before I passed through your lands.” Geralt spat through gritted teeth, clinging to what little thread of patience he had left. “You must have noticed that your people are dying at an alarmingly rapid rate.”

“There have been pests affecting the crops, probably bringing disease. It's being taken care of, not that I owe you any kind of explanation.” The disdain in Veldren's voice was evident which made Geralt's blood boil.

“It's a werewolf. And it's not going to stop until someone makes it stop. If you don't do something, your people will keep dying.”

“Why don't you let me worry about my people, witcher. You go find some other fool to steal their riches from. My people are fine.”

“That's not what the corpses piling up next to the dead crops say.”

“There are always more people. Nothing is lost that can't be replaced. Now you get out of here and don't come back or you'll regret the consequences.”

Geralt didn't stay to argue with Lord Veldren for another second, he knew it was a waste of time. He was not going to change his mind and was willing to let his people die just so he wouldn't have to back down. However, Geralt had changed his mind after their short conversation. The moment he turned around he knew he would return to the village to help the farmers free of charge. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because he knew that it would piss Veldren off more than anything. Geralt was not afraid of retaliation. He had no issue with avoiding that town in the future should he be banished.  He liked to take the long way around anyway.

Geralt stumbled into the modest hut of the family of the farmer whose eldest son had died trying to protect his people. They had offered to give him food and shelter while he prepared for the fight with the beast, and a place to rest after the task was complete. So once he was sure the monster was dead, he set out on his way back to their farm.

The older woman ran to him when she saw his condition. He was bloody and beaten. The beast had put up a good fight, but had ultimately failed to withstand the courage of the witcher and his silver sword. However, it had left Geralt with a fair amount of wounds, nothing that wouldn't heal with some rest, but serious enough to scare the poor woman as she saw him come through the door. She and one of her sons helped him sit up, while her husband, at her request, went to get some water —both for him to drink and to clean his wounds.

“It's done.” Geralt said as he finally allowed himself to relax.

The woman let out an exclamation of relief, passing him a glass of water as she mumbled something to herself. He couldn't catch it all, but from what he could make out she was speaking to her son's spirit, asking him to be at peace now that his family was safe. It was then that Geralt remembered the discovery he had made in his search for the beast. With some pain he brought his hand to his neck and tugged at one of the two chains around his neck. He took the woman's hand before she could move away from him and placed the object he knew belonged to her son in her palm. The woman looked at him in confusion until her eyes lowered to her hand and met the medallion resting in it.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Geralt spoke in a soft tone as he saw the tears beginning to roll down the woman's cheeks. He had found the medallion among bloody and rotting remains and knew immediately that he was in front of what was left of the son of the couple because his father wore the same necklace around his neck.

In tears the woman thanked him, repeating the words over and over again as she clutched the chain in her hand and held it to her chest at the level of her heart. She hugged her husband, who held her close and repeated the same praises to the witcher. Since they had no body to bury, retrieving such a significant object from their son was the next best thing to finding some sort of closure. It was something of his to remember him by and honor him for his bravery. It put an end to any doubt fueled by hope and allowed them to move on with their lives.

“I don't know how we can ever repay you.” The man spoke with tears in his eyes.

“I don't need anything. The shelter and food you provided me so far is payment enough.”

“You have given us too much, more than we could ask for. I cannot let this debt go unpaid.” The man insisted, his prideful side coming out. “We are not a family of great wealth, but we have honor. Integrity and the value of our word is all we have. I cannot offer you gold, but I can give you the hand of my only daughter in marriage.”

Geralt's eyes shot upward, momentarily forgetting the leg wound he was studying to look the farmer in the eye. “I didn't do this to get something in return. You don't have to offer me anything.”

“Please, witcher, I'm afraid I must insist. I could not go through life knowing that I owe such a great debt. You have not only saved my family, you have avenged my son's death and brought him home. I cannot allow you to leave this house empty-handed.”

“I assure you that our daughter is well educated in the arts of being a homemaker.” The woman interjected, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. “She has a perfect understanding of how to build and care for a home and a husband. She's been helping me since I was a little girl in preparation for this moment.”

Geralt didn't know how to explain to the sweet couple that he wasn't looking for a wife. Witchers were destined to live solitary lives. Their life mission was not compatible with a family. They had been strategically designed not to be able to leave offspring and no woman would want to be with such a man. The only family they had were the fellow witchers, with whom they met every winter to rest, replenish elixirs and exchange stories of the road. They led dangerous and transient lives, plagued by monsters and uncertainty. There was no place for love or relationships, much less with human women that were not trained in the combat of evil.

“I'm sure that's the case,” Geralt cleared his throat as he searched for the right words to explain the reason for his rejection. “But I'm afraid my life is not compatible with married life.”

“Please, if you won't take her it's only a matter of time until Lord Veldren does.” The woman insisted, desperation evident in her voice. “I know that may sound like a good thing to many people, but not to us. He is an evil man and I would rather my family perish than have to give my daughter to him.”

“I–”

“I can be of service to you.” The sound of a soft, sweet voice echoed in the distance. Geralt followed it, and it was then that his eyes collided with the figure of a young woman emerging from the stairs.

The first thing Geralt noticed, besides your beauty, was the resemblance you bore to your mother. Seeing the two of you side by side was like holding a mirror up to the past. Your features, although modified by the passage of time in the case of your mother, were almost the same. You had the same cheekbones and the same smile, although you differed in one aspect: your eyes. Although they were sweet like your mother's, they were charged with a bravery and ferocity that the older woman did not have. You held his gaze at all times, holding your head high in a proud manner. Your attitude caught Geralt's attention immediately since you were not at all what he expected. He had heard the family speak of you from time to time, but the image he had created in his mind about you from such tales was nothing like the person who was staring back at him at that very moment.

“I have spent most of my days accompanying the village healer, so I can heal your wounds after your battles.” You spoke once again. The politeness in your voice and the smoothness of your movements contradicted the fire in your eyes, which only added to Geralt's curiosity. “If you don't mind, I could show you my skills right now so you can see that I'm not lying.”

Geralt remained silent, but motioned for you to proceed. You walked towards him with a firm step, clutching in your hands the leather bag where you kept ointments, herbs and other medicinal items. You settled on a chair in front of him and after receiving his consent once again, you very carefully  examined some of the cuts he had on his arms and face. It was nothing too serious, they just needed a cleaning and perhaps the help of some ointments to treat the irritated skin. Only one cut on his shoulder seemed to need stitches and maybe one on his leg as well. It was nothing you hadn't already dealt with, so you would have no problem treating it and demonstrating your skills.

You asked your family for some space to work and they kindly left you the room to be alone with Geralt. Only then you began to clean his wounds, carefully wiping his skin with a wet cloth to remove the blood and dirt from the irritated areas. He watched you work in silence, admiring you with a puzzled expression. You intrigued him in a way that no human had done for a long time. He was waiting patiently for the moment when you decided to talk to him and slowly reveal a little more about yourself so he could understand what it was about you that he found so intriguing.

“You don't have to do this.” Geralt broke the silence after a few minutes of waiting to hear your voice. “It'll probably be healed by morning.”

“The witcher genes, I know... but a little help can't hurt, right?” You gave him a smile and when you looked up to meet his gaze, he noticed that the fire in your eyes had softened, mixed with a hint of sweetness.

“You don't have to prove anything to me. I don't need any payment for my work.”

“My father is a very proud man, Geralt. He will not be comfortable letting you go without payment for your services.”

“And I will not be comfortable dragging a young woman like you into the life of a witcher.” He placed his hand over yours to force you to stop your actions and draw your attention to his face. Your hand was trapped between his leg and the touch of his calloused fingers. “Life on the road is not one for a beautiful lady such as you. And I am not a man worthy of marriage.”

Geralt's voice was soft as he spoke, he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you with his rejection. There was nothing wrong with you and he was sure that someday you would find a good man worthy of your hand. But he was not that man. He was not husband material and his life was not compatible with marriage. Perhaps if things had been different and Vesemir had not found him he could have had a taste of that life. But the mission to eradicate the monsters on the continent had been entrusted to him and he couldn't turn it down for a woman, no matter how much he wanted to.

“You must forgive me,” you muttered, feeling small under the witcher's intense gaze. You released your hand from his grip and hurried to grab the items needed to close the wound on his leg. “I was the one who put that idea in my father's mind. I figured it was an easy way out...not many men would refuse such a payment, but I guess I was wrong.” You gave him a shy smile before lowering your gaze to his leg once more to begin stitching the skin together with thread and needle. He didn't even flinch as the metal pierced him and you wondered how high was the level of pain tolerance of people like him.

“Lord Veldren, huh?” You knew from the tone he used when he spoke that Geralt understood the predicament you were in.

“He's quite a character, isn't he?” you let out a frustrated sigh. “He's made his interest in me pretty clear, but he knows it's not reciprocated, so he's been harassing my family to make sure he gets what he wants. Times are tough and he's not making it any easier. He's been creating ridiculous rules to raise taxes, chasing my brothers around town, sending me letters and gifts in hopes of winning me over... He's trying to back us into a corner. It is only a matter of time until we are forced to leave our lands or... I am forced to accept his proposal.”

After securing the last stitch, you spread some of the antibacterial ointment the village healer had taught you to prepare on the skin of his thigh. Your movements were slow and gentle even though you were pretty sure that Geralt wouldn't feel much pain if it were different. And once that wound was healed, you then moved over to the cut on his shoulder. You drew your chair a little closer to him so that you could reach the area more comfortably, and asked his permission to pull his shirt up. You felt your face heat up as you watched his fingers work on the buttons to expose his chest and allow you to work more comfortably. You tried to focus your gaze on his wound and only his wound, although you were a little distracted by counting the scars that adorned the skin of his chest.

“Why do you think he's so interested in you?” The question escaped Geralt's lips before he could stop himself. It was in no way a comment on you as a person. Your beauty alone was reason enough to justify any man's interest in taking your hand. But he had to admit that it was unusual for a man of nobility to seek to court a farm girl, much less someone like Lord Veldren. He was someone who craved power and wealth, so it would make much more sense for him to seek to marry someone of his own social standing.

“Because he is insecure and he loves nothing more than making people feel small to aggrandize his figure.” You said as if it were obvious, letting out a dry chuckle as your fingers delicately traced the irritated skin of the witcher's shoulder.

Geralt couldn't help but agree with you. The few minutes he shared with Lord Veldren were enough to recognize that his ego was probably bigger than his riches.

“He inherited the title unexpectedly.” You continued to explain as you carefully secured the first stitch over the wound. Geralt did not utter a single complaint, but you still treated him with the tenderness you would treat any normal person. Just because he was used to blood and pain didn't mean he didn't deserve a soft, tender touch now and then. Especially after he had risked his life to save yours and that of your entire village. And as you worked you explained to him what you knew about Lord Veldren's history.

He had only come to the village after a long search for extended family members of Lord Eldrake, who perished with his son in a tragic hunting accident. He was a distant cousin who lived far away not only physically, but also metaphorically. Veldren had grown up far removed from the riches and customs of the nobility, which showed in the way he imposed his power. He was not wise or cultured, he did not have good manners or a proper grasp of protocols. He only cared about himself, his new found power, and increasing his wealth with no regard for who he hurt along the way. Since he had arrived he had done nothing but squeeze every coin he could from the people, leaving them with just enough to survive. And his hand did not tremble when it came to punishing those who voiced their complaints.

Lord Veldren was a horrible man who was not prepared to fill the role that had fallen into his hands in a stroke of luck. And for you there laid the reason for his interest in you. Marrying into a noble family would mean exposing his incompetence. For now, as things stood, he was completely on his own to do and dispose as he wished, but marrying a noblewoman would mean being challenged. And his ego would not be able to tolerate such a thing. You, on the other hand, were someone he could easily manipulate to please. He held your family's future in his hands and he knew very well that you knew it. He was using them to get to you and it was clear that he would continue to do so to keep you under his control. Lord Veldren was obsessed with you not because of your beauty or your ability to maintain a home —as he often said in his letters— but because you did not present a threat to his ego.

“I know marrying a nobleman coming from a peasant family sounds like a dream come true, but it's not for me.” You muttered sadly as you finished bandaging the witcher's wound. “I always dreamed of marrying for love... but now I don't think that's possible. That's why I thought you were a good candidate. You are honorable and protective, he wouldn't come after you. You could take me away from here or be enough of a threat to force Lord Veldren to leave me alone.”

Geralt could feel your sadness just by looking into your eyes. A light shone in your eyes at the mention of love, the hope of having the life you wanted still alive somewhere in you. However, he had to watch it die quickly, crushed by the devastating reality in which you lived. It was a sad thing to see, but there was nothing he could do to help you. With a bit of luck on your side maybe he could get Lord Veldren to forget about you, but that was far from being the solution to the problem. You would still be trapped in a life you didn't want, married to someone you didn't love. Accepting your hand in marriage as payment for his services would only change the face of your misfortune. He could save your family, but he would become the executioner condemning you to a future of unhappiness. And he was not willing to be such a thing. It was none of his business whether or not to save the lives of maidens who were being threatened by monsters not born of magic. It never ended well and Geralt had no doubt that this would be no exception. Married or unmarried, happy or unhappy, it shouldn't matter to him because he had no reason to interfere.

“Marrying me wouldn't change things. You would only be tying yourself to a different kind of miserable future with a man you don't love. There is still time, you can still find love.”

The last thing Geralt wanted was to hurt you with his rejection. You and your family had been through a lot and he didn't want you to worry thinking that there was something wrong with you that led him to refuse such payment for his services. He knew that you would make an excellent wife someday and that was exactly why he could not take your hand. You deserved to marry for love, as you so desperately wanted, and live a good life with a man who deserved you. And unfortunately he was not that man.

“I'd rather it be you than him.” You looked at him with wide eyes full of despair. “My time is up. You are my last chance to escape him.”

“You must understand that my life is no life for a married man.” Geralt reached for your hand. He took it between his own, his thumb caressing your smooth skin with small circular motions in the hope that it would help soften the blow of his rejection. Your eyes focused on his grip for a moment, admiring the way his hands completely enveloped yours making you feel small and insignificant next to him. Looking up you met a pair of amber eyes that looked at you full of softness in them. “I live on the road, traveling from place to place in search of dangerous beasts. That's no place for a sweet woman like you.”

“I am not a porcelain doll that must be carefully cared for to keep from shattering. I can travel with you. I have traveled many times in my life, even accompanied my brothers on hunting trips. I know how to handle myself in the wilderness.”

“Being a witcher is not like hunting a deer. It's dangerous, especially for untrained humans. You can get seriously hurt if you travel with me.”

“Then you can marry me and go on with your journey!” you raised your voice, feeling frustrated with Geralt's excuses. You pulled your hand away from his suddenly, putting distance between the two of you.

He didn't understand. How could he? He had nothing to fear. He was a fierce witcher who had faced who knows how many beasts in his life and emerged victorious. He would never understand the guilt that ate at you as you watched your family struggling to make ends meet knowing it was your fault. He would never understand the fear of being trapped in a future without love or hope, forced to be the object of desire of a cruel and evil man. Geralt was strong and powerful to the point that you doubted he had ever felt small and helpless, so of course he would not be able to understand your despair.

“You would not have to see me again if you so desired. You could leave right after the ceremony and never come back if that's what you wanted, I don't care. All I need is a ring on my finger that will keep Veldren away from me and my family.”

“And you'll be condemned to live married to a ghost?”

“If that's what it takes! I'm willing to live a life of solitude if it means my family is safe... it beats being the object of desire of the most disgusting man I've ever met.”

From the look Geralt gave you, you know that he feels sorry for you. You can read in his eyes how bad he feels for you, how sad he finds your words and even the relief he feels knowing that he will never be subjected to a similar situation. And you hated it almost as much as you hated having to cry and beg him to agree to marry you. It was embarrassing and humiliating, but it was your last resort. Marrying Geralt was the best possible way out of your predicament. If he didn't want to share his life with you he could easily leave and not come back and it still wouldn't be suspicious given what he did for a living. You would have to stage things from time to time to keep up appearances over time, but even so you doubted that Veldren would dare to challenge someone with Geralt's reputation. You'd be doomed to a life without love, but at least you'd be free.

“I know I'm asking a lot.” Your voice broke the silence that fell over the room. It was softer this time, a reflection of the effort you were making to quiet your frustrations. After all, it wasn't Geralt's fault that you were trapped in this situation and he had every right to refuse to accept your hand as payment. You hoped you could appeal to his kindness. “I just want you to think about it. You don't have to decide anything now. You can stay here for as long as you need to get back on your feet, we'll provide shelter and food no matter what you decide. It's the least we can do after all you've done for us. I just... You are my last hope to escape from him, so please think about it. Please know that I am willing to be a good wife and serve you in any way you see fit, or give you the freedom to move on with your life if you wish. Nothing would change for you as I understand from your words that you do not intend to marry in the near future, but you would be improving my life.”

Geralt remained silent watching you disappear up the stairs as he seriously considered your last words.

The more time Geralt spent with you and your family, the less confident he became in his decision. He initially intended to spend only a couple of days with you, just enough time for him and Roach to rest after the long and tumultuous journey they had made to get there. But the more time he spent at your home, the more difficult it became for him to leave you.

It was one thing to hear them talk about the hardships they were going through because of Lord Veldren, but it was very different to see it happen with his own eyes. In the short time that Geralt had been living with you the tax collector had passed by your home multiple times, always with a new complaint and a threat to go with it. There was no doubt that Veldren was the one behind it. They were, for the most part, empty threats designed to pressure them, but they were no less effective for that. They knew he wasn't really going to evict or imprison them because if he did it was game over. Ultimately, what Veldren wanted was not to make an example of your family, but to force you to give in to his demands. However, they were all well aware that it was only a matter of time before he got tired and decided to deliver on his threats. So they woke up every morning fearing that this was the day he would finally decide he had had enough and leave them in ruins over a mere whim.

Geralt tried to help them in any way he could. He had offered to help with the harvest and had even gone hunting a couple of times to save them from having to go to the market for food. However, they were a very proud family who were treating him as an honored guest so he was not allowed to do much. He found that the best way to contribute to them was to collect some favors from the people in town. Everyone talked about him as if he was a hero. They would greet him in the street and thank him for his work. They sought him out to hear his stories and composed songs about what he had done that night. Being the town hero, many people found that the best way to thank him for his bravery —since they had no coin to pay him— was to give him some of what he produced. In this way he was able to provide your family with a varied catalog of things ranging from fur coats to cattle for slaughter.

Geralt knew that what he was doing was wrong. He was getting too attached to your family, making things personal. He would be lying if he said his hatred for Veldren hadn't grown in the last few days. More than once he had thought of sneaking into his home to end his life and finish the suffering of your family and the whole town. But that was wrong. He was not supposed to intervene in mundane matters between humans. His mission was very simple: to eradicate evil beings born of magic. Human affairs —politics, war, even love— were not his concern.

He knew he had to leave before things got worse, but he didn't want to face what would come with his departure. He didn't want to face you and say goodbye forever because he was no longer completely sure that was the best option. In the last few days he had spent quite a bit of time with you. He noticed that you didn't leave the house much so he took advantage of the time to get to know you better. He thought it would help him stand firm in his decision, but it had done nothing but show him what a sweet and brave woman you were. A woman who didn't deserve to spend the rest of her life next to that disgusting man Veldren.

The words you had said to him that night always echoed in his mind before he fell asleep. The voice of reason told him that it was ridiculous to even consider the idea of taking your hand in marriage. Witchers were not meant to settle down and marry. Besides, accepting your proposal would, at best, condemn you to a life of misery —or an early death at worst. And yet, there was always this voice in the back of his mind. It wasn't powerful, but it would present itself just as he was about to fall asleep. It was the last thing he thought about at night and the first thing he remembered in the morning. That voice that said, “What if you tried? And one day, as he admired the way you groomed and cared for Roach in the barn, he seriously considered listening to that voice in his mind. And that's when he knew it was time to leave.

He decided to do it at night, after the family had gone to bed. It was not the honorable thing to do, but it was the only option that would allow him to get out of there without altering his life forever. Geralt was afraid to face you. He was afraid to look you in the eye and not be able to reject you. He was afraid to say goodbye and feel the weight of guilt increase with every step he took. Guilt for sealing your fate. Guilt for leaving you no choice but to surrender yourself to Lord Veldren's arms for the rest of your life. He kept telling himself that he was not to blame for any of it, that it was not his duty to intervene to fix anyone's life, but he believed it less and less with each passing day. So he gathered his things, took Roach from the stable and set off on his way out of town with the darkness of the night as his ally.

However, fate seemed to have other plans for him.

Geralt walked at a slow pace alongside Roach. The road leading out of town, which normally had people coming and going, was quiet. All that could be heard were Roach's footsteps in the dirt and the sound of the river flowing peacefully. It was a beautiful sight, the moonlight, the trees and flowers painted in the crystal reflection of the water creating a composition worthy of admiration. However, his eyes lost interest in such a beautiful sight when they came across the figure of a woman dipping her feet in the riverbank. She was humming under her breath, the sound traveling to his ears on the night breeze. He knew then that it was not just any young woman there, but the one he was trying to avoid.

He found it strange that you were there alone. It was late and the last he had heard you say was that you were retiring to rest. He hadn't heard you sneaking out of the house and neither did he understand why you were doing it. In the time Geralt had spent there, he noticed that you didn't get out of the house much, not even to stroll through the market like most of the women seemed to do in this town. You spent your time tending the crops and caring for the few animals they had. He had assumed that it was because you enjoyed the warmth of your home, but now he was beginning to doubt it. You looked so free and happy as you walked along the riverbank, the ruffles on your dress blowing in the wind, the fabric clinging to your body. Amused laughter escaped your lips every time the water made contact with your skin, splashing with joy and wetting the hem of your dress.

The woman who stood before him was totally different from the one Geralt knew. He had never seen you like this, so... free and full of life. You looked almost ethereal dancing in the moonlight, accompanied by the chirping of crickets and the splashing of water beneath your feet. A peak of glowing light that pulled him to you like flames to moths. Roach protested when he went out of his way to approach you, but Geralt ignored her. He pulled on the reins lightly to force the horse to move and knotted them in a tree to make sure she didn't escape.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

Geralt's voice startled you. You turned your head to look at him, feeling embarrassed at being caught acting foolish thinking you were alone. There was no mockery in his expression, but your cheeks warmed anyway. What you did notice in his gaze was a hint of guilt that you only understood when you saw Roach waiting for him a couple of feet away.

“You're leaving...” You muttered with a bit of sadness in your voice. He was sneaking away, under the darkness of the night and without saying goodbye to anyone. And that could only mean one thing: he was rejecting your father's offer.

“You shouldn't be here alone so late.” Geralt decided to ignore you since it was the easiest thing to do. He wasn't proud of what he was doing, but he knew it was for the best.

“This is honestly safer than going out in the daytime.” You shrugged, moving away from the water to sit on the shore. You buried your wet feet in the dirt, feeling the small grains slipping through your toes as you wiggled them. “I used to love visiting the market with my mother and playing with the children in the town square... but I can't do that anymore without being watched by Veldren's men... sometimes even he shows up himself... So I stopped going. I focused on my home, on helping my family as much as I could... And I slowly stopped going out, stopped socializing with people other than my immediate neighbors. I thought that maybe if he stopped seeing me so often he would get bored of me and focus his attention on another young girl... but now I'm not so sure that's going to happen.”

You wrapped your arms around your knees, making yourself small as you thought of all you had lost because of that man. And you wondered how much more you had to lose. Your freedom and happiness didn't seem to be enough. Your family and your land were still on the line, and if you ended up accepting his proposal, so was your ability to decide about your own future. It wasn't fair.

Geralt looked down at you for a moment, admiring the way the moonlight reflected on your face. It added a layer of sadness to your expression, a vulnerability he hadn't seen in you before. You looked like a doll made of porcelain, fragile and beautiful, in need of care and protection. He felt the need to hold you, but restrained himself. Instead, he sat by your side offering you a friendly ear to listen to your misfortunes.

“Night is the only time I can be free. The moon is my only friend, the faithful confidant of all my secrets.” You went on, your eyes lost in the movement of the water. “I can escape the four-walled prison and wander around the village, enjoy the scenery and the fresh air without being watched and having every step I take reported back to him.” There was poison in your voice at the mention of Lord Veldren and you hadn't even said his name. “I suppose I have you to thank for that too... The night was no longer safe, but you gave me back my freedom by slaying that beast.”

You turned to look at him and Geralt noticed the tears pooling in your eyes. They glistened under the moonlight just like the water of the lake reflected it, highlighting the beautiful color of your eyes. They threatened to escape, but out of sheer determination you were able to hold them in place. You were not going to let the last image he had of you be of your crying face. You didn't want to cause him to feel sorry for you. You didn't want him to think it was a trick to get him to stay. He had done enough for you and your family, you couldn't ask him for anything more.

“I wish you the best of luck in your life, Geralt, and I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you... You must leave this place knowing that you helped a lot of people, myself included.” You gave him a smile, a subtle way of letting him know you agreed with his decision. “Although I'm not going to lie to you, I would like to see you again...only perhaps under less tragic circumstances.”

“I'm afraid tragic circumstances are my specialty.” The corner of his lips curved slightly into a sad smile, his gaze momentarily lost, and you wondered what thoughts might be going through his head. “But I'd like to make my way back here someday.”

“You will always be welcome in this town...and you will always have a place to stay. My family and I aren't going anywhere.”

You reached out a hand toward Geralt, daring to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over his face and obstructed your view of his eyes. You had always found the yellowish hue in them mesmerizing, but somehow they looked even more beautiful under the moonlight. Perhaps it was the lack of light, but you felt they shone with a different intensity. It was like looking directly into the sun, beautiful but painful.

You let your fingers run down his temple until they reached his cheek, gently caressing one of the cuts you had helped him heal. It was nothing more than a line, just a shade lighter than the color of his skin, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn't know it was there, but you still felt it under your fingertips. You were going to miss him. You had grown accustomed to his presence in your home and you would be lying if you said you didn't like what you had learned about him. He was nothing like what people used to say about witchers, maybe a little quiet and grumpy, yes, but he was a noble and kind hearted man. He deserved to have a good life and you hoped he would find it beyond the borders of your town.

In that simple exchange of glances Geralt was able to read in your eyes the true meaning of your words. He saw the resignation and sadness hidden behind them, the courage and strength that he had noticed the first time he saw you. He understood then that you were willing to do anything to protect your family and that you were not going to let anyone or anything break you. It was inspiring, but tragic. The need to protect you grew stronger inside him, every fiber of his being asking him to stop you.

When you removed your hand from his face, Geralt met it halfway, holding it back so you couldn't move it too far away. Your gaze lowered, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you admired his fingers intertwined with yours. When your eyes met the shine of his again, you noticed that he had leaned toward you. There was something in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher, but that captivated you nevertheless. And suddenly, without even realizing what you were doing, you began to lean towards him as well.

It felt like you were in a trance, being pulled towards Geralt by some kind of magic hidden in his eyes. The air caught in your throat as you felt his nose brush against yours. Your heart raced as his gaze lowered to your mouth, lips parting instinctively, responding to his proximity. Geralt's half-open eyes met yours once again, looking at you with a clear question written in them. And you answered it the only way you could while trapped under that mesmerizing amber glow, pressing your lips against his.

It was a soft but quick kiss. Your lips barely pressed against Geralt's, moving with both hesitation and curiosity to explore the taste of his mouth. You were being cautious, like when you tested the temperature of the water in the lake with your fingers before diving in. You were dipping your toes into the turbulent ocean of uncertainty that was Geralt to see how far you could go.

You pulled away from him after a few seconds, feeling embarrassed by your boldness and how much you were enjoying feeling the caress of his lips on yours. However, Geralt didn't let you pull away too far. His hand came up to your jaw, gripping the side of your face gently to hold you in place. His calloused fingers awakened a warm tingling under your skin, managing to slightly accelerate your heartbeat. His breath mingled with yours and his eyes looked at you with a softness you hadn't noticed in them before.

Geralt could feel the change in your breathing and sense the quickening of your heart in the veins of your neck filled with anticipation. He tried to resist your charms, but you looked at him with pleading eyes. Your tongue peeked between your parted lips, wetting your lower lip in an act of clear temptation. And he understood then that he was not as strong as he thought he was. He gave in to your silent pleas, joining his lips with yours again, though this time in a kiss charged with trust and desperation.

And in that moment, joined only by the moonlight and the chirping of crickets in the night, you both felt a spark. A connection with each other that you had never experienced before with another person. Your lips moved desperately, your hands clung to any part of exposed skin you could touch without crossing a line. You tangled your fingers in Geralt's long white hair, losing yourself in the warmth of his body. His right hand found its place on your cheek, using the advantage to move your head in the direction required to deepen the kiss. His other hand clung to your back, pressing you against his body until there was no more space separating the two of you.

You moaned as he sucked on your lower lip and the sound, though music to Geralt's ears, alerted him to what you were doing. He carefully pulled away from you, making a great effort to ignore your protests.

“We can't do this,” he whispered between gasps. “Not this way.”

“Yes we can...there's no one around to judge us. No one has to know.” You pushed your lips against Geralt's once more and he gave in for a moment before pulling away again. This time instead of whining you simply turned your attention to his neck, planting soft kisses down the column of his throat. If he wasn't going to make you his wife, he could at least treat you to a night of intimacy. That way at least you could choose the first man to give your body to.

“We should wait... for the wedding night.”

You stopped your actions as soon as you managed to process his words. Your head jumped up to look into his eyes, searching his expression for confirmation that you had heard correctly.

“That means...?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “And we're going to do this right.”

Your eyes lit up with joy and hope, looking at Geralt with the admiration with which one looks at a knight returning after winning a great battle. You jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. You didn't know if he realized it, but he had just saved your life. And no matter how things turned out after your wedding, you would always be grateful to him for that.

The news was announced to your parents first thing in the morning and from that point on, preparations for the wedding didn't stop. It wasn't going to be a big event, just a ceremony with the close family to formalize the union. And you wanted it to be as quick as possible, not only to avoid delaying Geralt's departure for longer, but also because rumors of his heroic deeds had reached Lord Veldren's ears and you knew that couldn't be a good thing. The sooner you were married, the better it would be for everyone.

Your mother took on the responsibility of arranging everything, sending your father and brothers to get food and fabrics and the paperwork as well as the clergy's approval to perform the ceremony. And when she wasn't tidying the house or preparing floral arrangements, she took time to talk to you about marriage and what you could expect after the papers were signed. She spoke from her own experience and it was beautiful to see her eyes sparkle as she recalled her past, the happiness of the first moments of her marriage with your father and the arrival of her children into her life. But, as nice as it sounded, you weren't sure that was your destiny.

“You shouldn't get your hopes up so high, mother.” You sighed, watching her brush and fix your hair through the reflection of the mirror you were sitting in front of. In addition to arranging the ceremony, your mother had taken on the responsibility of helping you get ready for your big day. “I don't think that's the future that awaits me when I marry Geralt. He's just doing it as a favor.”

“You don't know that, honey. True love may still be in your destiny... You wouldn't be the first woman to find it long after the wedding day.” She smiled at you in the mirror before returning her attention to your hair, carefully braiding a strand.

“I don't even know if he'll stay after the deed is done... But that's okay, the whole point of this was to get Lord Veldren off our backs and marrying Geralt can do that, so I'm happy.”

“He can't leave after the ceremony, the marriage must be consummated.”

“Mother!” you let out a high-pitched whine, feeling blood pooling in your cheeks.

“I'm sorry, darling, but you are hours away from becoming a married woman, these are things I need to talk to you about.”

“I'd rather you didn't.”

“Your father and I made arrangements to visit your aunt across town for a few days. We'll leave after the ceremony so you two will have time to be alone and... figure out how to move forward. It's important, honey, that you take some time to think about the kind of woman you want to be, the kind of wife you want to be... and show him that he can find support in you, someone to grow together with. That's what a wife should be...what a marriage should be, a safe place you build as a couple. Your safe place.”

Your mother's eyes filled with tears and you immediately rose from your seat to hug her. You cherished every word, every piece of advice and word of encouragement she gave you and had given you in the last few days. Seeing her so emotional brought tears to your eyes as well, and you wanted nothing more than to be able to show her that she had taught you well. You wanted to make her proud of you, to build a marriage that would show everyone who knew you how well she had raised you, but you weren't sure you could do it.

Maybe under normal circumstances it wouldn't seem so far away. But there was nothing normal about the way you had arrived at this moment. You had thrown yourself into the arms of a kind stranger to escape the advances of a powerful but evil man. There was no love or deep connection between you and Geralt, only incompatible lives and mutual respect. There was a spark, the one you felt in your core when his lips touched yours, but you weren't sure it was enough to build a life with him. You supposed time would show you eventually.

“Thank you for everything, mother.” You mumbled through tears as you broke away from her embrace. “I don't know how the future will turn out, but I promise I will try my best every day to make you proud of me.”

“Oh, honey! I'm already proud of you.”

You hugged through sobs one more time until your mother called the moment over, pulling away from you as she wiped away your tears and scolded you for distracting her when you had so much to do. She proceeded to finish fixing your hair, braiding it into a nice half up half down hairstyle. You admired your reflection in the mirror, unable to believe that the woman looking back at you was you. You had never paid so much attention to how you looked so you didn't even know you had the ability to look so well presented.

You were so distracted by your appearance that you didn't notice that your mother had left your quarters until you felt the door close behind her upon her return. She was carrying in her hands a neatly folded piece of green fabric, which you soon discovered was a dress. But not just any dress, but the one she had worn the day she married your father. She handed it to you with tears in her eyes and helped you put it on while she told you how much she had waited for the moment to see you wearing it.

The dress was beautiful and fit you perfectly. The green fabric clung to your body, caressing your natural curves, all the way down to your hips where the skirt became full and flowy. Similarly, the sleeves flared out towards the lower half of your arm and the edges were adorned with golden thread embroidery that your grandmother had made herself for your parents' wedding. Your mother took it upon herself to add detail to the bodice, embroidering delicate flowers with the same thread.

“I always envisioned it this way,” your mother commented as you both admired your reflection in the mirror. “At the time we couldn't afford to add more detail. Your grandmother sewed everything herself to save us some money, but I always imagined something more. When you were born I knew I had to finish it, so that one day I could see it on your wedding day.”

“Mother, thank you! It's... it's beautiful!” And you really believed that. The dress was beautiful and the story and sentiment behind it made it even more special.

Looking in the mirror you noticed that you felt beautiful for the first time in your life. Not that you thought you were ugly before that moment, you just never paid much attention to such things. You admired the beauty of noble women when you were lucky enough to come across one in the market, but it was always like someone admiring a painting or a statue. You admired their elegance and the detail of their dresses. You were puzzled by the perfection of their skins and the strong but delicate scent of their perfumes. You appreciated the intricate beauty of their hairstyles and the grace of their walk. It was a beauty that almost didn't seem real. You thought that you were not capable of it, that such delicacy and femininity was unattainable for someone like you. But looking in the mirror at that moment, you felt for the first time like one of those women, beautiful and elegant.

“I know it's not as pretty as the dress you would be wearing if you were about to marry Lord Veldren, but I'm happy to be able to carry on the tradition. He probably would have given you a much more detailed and expensive gown, made of the finest fabrics to enhance your beauty... but then I could never have seen this finished beauty.” Your mother smiled, smoothing the fabric of the skirt to fit your body properly.

“I'm not so sure about that. Although I do think he wouldn't have let me wear it, I don't think it would be because he wanted to give me something better, but rather to use it as a tool of control and take away the power of making my own decisions on yet another thing in my life.”

“Maybe so, but you shouldn't think about that now. What matters is that you managed to get rid of him and we will be able to keep the tradition going. Hopefully someday you will be able to add something else to the dress and pass it on to your daughter on her wedding day.”

You smiled at your mother, but said nothing. You really doubted that would be possible given the person —and the circumstances— you were marrying, but you didn't have the heart to break it to your mother at that moment. There would be time for that, but right now you wanted to focus on the positive.

Your mother excused herself again, running downstairs to make sure everything was going according to plan. You were left alone with your thoughts once more, your mind full of questions about what the future held for you. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. Even though you and Geralt didn't share the love you imagined every time you fantasized about your wedding day, it was still quite a nerve-wracking situation. Maybe even more so.

Marrying for love meant getting to know the other person, knowing what they wanted for the future and being certain that you would both work together to make that shared desire come true. But you had none of that with Geralt. You were extremely grateful to him for the decision he had made, but you couldn't help but think that you had no idea what would happen after the ceremony was over. Everything had happened so quickly that you hadn't had time to talk about it. Yes, you had shared a meaningful kiss, but that didn't automatically negate the many reasons he had presented as an argument for not marrying you. At the end of the day, he was still a witcher with a bigger mission and purpose than you and you weren't sure how that was going to affect your marriage.

Would he stay with you and build a life together? Would he leave the next morning, never to return? Would he let you into his life or would he run off into the night without even saying goodbye as he had already tried to do? You were fine with any of those options, after all, they all fulfilled your true goal of getting Lord Veldren out of your life. But you would still like to know beforehand what his choice was going to be so you would know what to expect.

The ceremony was quick. There were no special guests or grand entertainments. It was an intimate event, witnessed only by your family and the officiating clergy. There were no special vows either, you and Geralt didn't know each other well enough to write down your feelings for each other and pronounce your vows of love in front of the witnesses present. But that didn't stop it from being emotional, both for you and your family. Your mother had gone to great lengths to decorate the garden for the ceremony, with colorful flowers and candles surrounding the area where it took place. The pinkish orange tones of the sunset sky added a magical touch to the moment, and while the circumstances of the wedding were not perfect, it was very close to what you had always imagined.

The ceremony was quick, more of a formality than a celebration of love, but you were still happy. The moment the union was official you and your family were free from Lord Veldren and his extortions. You were now married to a man very well trained in the art of combat, if he was smart —and you appealed to his cowardice and his need to feel superior— he would focus his attention on another young girl and finally stop tormenting you. And that was reason enough for you to rejoice and celebrate.

You were contemplating going out for a stroll around town hand in hand with your now husband so that rumors would slowly begin to circulate, when a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Your father went to answer it while you instinctively hid behind Geralt's imposing figure, peeking over his shoulder to decipher if there was danger on the other side of the wood.

You didn't quite hear the conversation that the stranger and your father seemed to be having, only mumbles. But that was enough to make out that it was one of Lord Veldren's men making demands. Only this time they didn't seem to be directed at your family.

“Where is the witcher? We know you are sheltering him here. Have him present himself immediately!” The man demanded in a firm, threatening tone, causing your gaze to rise to meet Geralt's.

“What is this about?” you heard your father say, clearing his throat to try to sound more intimidating.

“He is not welcome here. We have strict orders from Lord Veldren to escort him to the outskirts of town. If you hide him, we will take you as well.”

Geralt took a step forward, ready to face the men calling his name, but stopped when he felt your fingers close around his arm. He looked down at you and saw concern in your eyes. You were afraid of them, of those men, of their threats, of what Lord Veldren might do to you and your family. He had heard you say it on several occasions, but he had never seen it so explicitly on your face. He knew then that he had to act. His job as your husband was to watch over you and protect you from danger, to show you that you no longer had reason to fear these men. So he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of it as a way of reassuring you that everything would be all right. Then he approached the door and patted your father on the back to signal that he could leave. He was going to handle what was next.

Geralt took a couple of steps out of the threshold of the door to make sure that if things got out of control you and your family could be locked inside the house while he dealt with the problem. The two men Veldren had brought to capture him backed up with every step he took, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and the witcher. Geralt knew then that it was not going to be difficult to get rid of them. He towered over them intimidatingly, his muscular figure large enough to accommodate both men under his shadow. He saw the fear in their eyes and the regret of having left the horses behind to approach the gate.

Despite everything, the men tried to hold their place, and Geralt respected them a bit more for it. However, he did not give in to their demands and when they wanted to force him, he showed them without any trouble or effort the mistake they had made.

“Geralt!” you exclaimed from the doorway, alarmed to see the fight break out. But he quickly proved to you that your concern was in vain. Between blows he even had time to give you a calming look, silently reassuring you that everything was fine and you had nothing to worry about.

“Go inside!” he instructed before turning around and delivering a punch to the guard closest to him.

You didn't listen to him. You stood in place admiring from a distance the skill with which Geralt moved, the precision of his body position and how lethal his attacks were, even as you could tell he was holding back. It was an art, a complex dance that he had mastered to perfection. Those guards never stood a chance.

It wasn't long before the men were on the ground, panting and bloody, wondering what would become of them. But Geralt didn't want to kill them, he understood they were just following orders. His fight was not with them, but with the one who held their leashes. He was the reason they had come looking for him and the one to blame for the fear in your eyes every time you heard the knock on the door. He was the one he really had to fight. So Geralt made sure they heard his next words well.

“Tell Lord Veldren that I'm not going anywhere. If he wants to cast me out, he'll have to come himself to do it in person. If he is not willing to face me then he should leave me and my wife alone or next time it will be me knocking on his door.”

Hearing the protectiveness in his voice as he called you his wife made your heart pound. You weren't used to that, to belonging to someone in that way, but it was definitely something you could get used to. It felt nice having someone caring about you in that way, having someone willing to fight to protect you. You knew it wasn't much of an effort for someone like Geralt, but you also knew he didn't have to do any of it, which made you appreciate it even more.

You ran into Geralt's arms as the men scurried off to their horses, riding away from your home as fast as they could. “Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

It took Geralt a couple of seconds to reciprocate, slightly surprised by your show of affection. He wasn't used to humans —much less young ladies such as yourself— reacting positively when he demonstrated his combat skills. People usually had no problem paying him to solve their problems, but they were rarely able to accept the methods he employed to do so. Of course the fight there had not been brutal, but in the past he had earned negative looks for similar things, so your acceptance of his violence took him by surprise. But eventually Geralt relaxed and pulled you close against his body, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

It wasn't long before you found yourself alone at home. Your family had left for your aunt's place just as your mother had told you and Geralt had disappeared. You were just finishing tidying up, washing glasses and dishes so it wouldn't pile up, when you saw him through the window. He had taken his horse out of the stable and was walking with the reins in his hand at a slow pace in the direction of the exit. And you watched him walk away with sadness in your heart, certain that you would never see him again.

You contemplated running after him, trying to stop him or asking him if he was planning to stop by again. But you regretted it at the last minute. You didn't want to push him any harder than you already had. He had married you because you asked him to and that was more than enough. You couldn't demand that he keep to the guidelines of a normal marriage when you knew very well that there was nothing normal about your arrangement. Geralt had kept his word, he had married you and he had made sure that Lord Veldren knew that you were already taken and that your family was under his protection. You could not ask more of him than that. You now had the freedom you wanted so badly, it was only fair that he could return to his normal life.

You wished he had at least said goodbye, or that he had waited for the sun to rise before disappearing. You'd be lying if you said you weren't sad to have to spend your wedding night alone, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe it was better to not force something that wasn't there. The marital bed your brothers and father had built for you would definitely feel too big and empty without someone next to it, but that would probably be that way with or without Geralt there. You didn't share the love necessary to make the bed a warm and safe place, so the night would be long and cold, alone or together.

When you finished tidying up the house you went upstairs to your quarters and took the time to undo your hair and take off your wedding dress. It felt wrong to walk around the house looking like that when there was no one else around. Without your husband there it felt like you had gone back in time to when you were little and played dress up with your mother's dresses, imagining what your life would be like when you got to be her age. You felt silly, so you put the dress away and covered your chemise dress with a robe since you weren't ready to go to sleep yet.

To avoid being consumed by your thoughts, you decided to grab a book. You settled yourself on one side of the bed, your eyes glancing only for a moment at the empty side before you opened the book with the intention of losing yourself in its pages. It was not an easy task. It took you much longer than usual to read just ten pages, your attention always wandering to the swirl of questions that was your mind, forcing you to reread the same pages over and over again to understand what was going on in the story. But eventually you were able to lose yourself in the words to such an extent that you didn't hear the sound of the front door opening or the footsteps coming up the stairs.

Seeing the imposing figure of Geralt peering through the door of your chambers really surprised you. You put your book down for a moment, watching as he took a few hesitant steps inside. “I didn't know if you were coming back.” You broke the silence. Your gaze returned to the book in your hands to avoid the awkwardness of looking him in the eye.

“Honestly I didn't either.” Geralt spoke in a soft tone and you could almost hear the doubt in his voice. “But I threatened Veldren so I can't just disappear and leave you to deal with the consequences.”

Geralt made his way to the empty side of the bed and you watched him sit with his back turned to you. He remained still and silent for a moment, as if lost in his own thoughts, and you wondered if he was regretting the decision he had made. A lump formed in your throat, making it difficult to breathe. Your heart was heavy with sadness, feeling guilty that you had trapped him into this.

“You don't need to spend the night here.” You muttered under your breath. If he didn't want to be there you weren't going to force him to sleep next to you. There was no one in the house to judge you, so he could sleep wherever he felt most comfortable, far away from you. “You can go back to your quarters, no one has to know.” You looked down at the book once more, trying to find an escape from the shame you felt in the words written on the weathered pages.

“I want to be here.” Geralt turned, looking at you with softness in his eyes. “It's where I belong.”

And he wasn't lying. He had to admit he wasn't sure if things were going to work out, but he was your husband now and it was his duty to be there for you. It was the one thing he was sure of in all of this, it had become clear to him on his walk through town with Roach. He had left with the intention of clearing his thoughts, to contemplate his options and decide how to proceed accordingly. And he found that the further he got away from you, the worse he felt. He didn't like the idea of you spending your wedding night alone, in an empty house without your family or husband. It was wrong. So he came back to hold you in his arms at night as he should and keep you safe in case Lord Veldren decided to pay you a visit. He did not know how long he could keep up the charade —how much longer he could hide from his destiny and responsibilities—, but that was not a concern he had to consider at the moment. Tonight he was supposed to be by your side.

You smiled at him as you heard him say that, feeling relieved. You didn't notice anything in his expression that made you think he was lying to you so you allowed yourself to relax a little. You were still a little tense as you didn't know how to proceed or what he expected from tonight. You knew it was tradition for newlywed couples to consummate the marriage on their wedding night, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about it, but you wondered if it made any kind of sense. You weren't going to build a family together. There was no love between you to express in a physical way. And yet you couldn't help but wonder if Geralt wanted you.

“How long do you plan to stay?” you asked after a moment of silence, shifting your gaze away from Geralt's in embarrassment. You hoped you didn't sound controlling or needy.

“I haven't decided yet... I do have to go back, I have a home and people waiting for me, but we have some time. Besides, I realized it would not be wise to leave so soon after threatening Lord Veldren. I promised you that I would keep you safe from him and I intend to keep my word. It is best that I stay for a while to make sure he does not retaliate.”

You felt that comforting warmth in your belly again as you heard the protective tone in his voice. You tried to focus on that to get rid of all your worries, repeating over and over in your mind that he wanted to be there and that it had been his decision to help you.

Geralt turned his back to you once again and the air caught in your throat when you noticed that he was taking off his shirt, probably getting comfortable to sleep. Heat flooded your cheeks and you couldn't stop your eyes from trailing over his figure exposed to your curious gaze. He was like a work of art, the most beautiful and detailed sculpture you had ever seen. You admired with marvelous awe the way his muscles marked on his skin with every movement, as if they were sculpted by the hand of the most talented artist. His pale skin was the perfect canvas on which the tales of his adventures were told in the form of scratches and scars. Some were larger and flushed, others smaller and faded, but all equally intriguing. There was a large one on his left shoulder blade and another near his lower back that caught your attention. You couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind them. How did they end up on his skin? Who or what was responsible? Had it been saving someone?

You had to occupy your hands with the book, flipping through the pages to distract yourself and resist the urge to reach out to touch every bit of exposed skin your fingers could reach. You didn't know what had gotten into you, but with each passing second it became harder to stay away from Geralt. You were grateful that he had turned his back on you, that way he wasn't able to see the hunger and curiosity in your eyes, which allowed you to keep your dignity.

But even though he couldn't see you, he could still feel your gaze on him. He could feel the way you shifted uncomfortably on the bed and hear the change in your breathing that now escaped your lips in shallow gasps. He knew exactly what was going through your mind and thought it was adorable that you thought you could hide it from him.

“You can ask about them. I know what you want to.” Geralt broke the silence.

He still had his back to you, working on taking off his boots, but you still felt your whole face light up with embarrassment at having been caught. Could witchers read minds? You were pretty sure they couldn't, but the way he knew with such certainty that your eyes were examining his scars scared you a little.

“I guess everyone's curious about that, huh.”

Geralt shrugged. “You wouldn't be the first to ask about them.”

The implication behind his words put a strange feeling in your stomach. The idea that other people had had the opportunity to share such an intimate moment with him didn't sit well with you in the slightest, though you didn't quite understand why. You ignored that strange feeling for the moment, choosing to focus your attention on the moment unfolding before your eyes. Geralt's past or future should not concern you since you were not part of either. But you were part of his present and that was all that mattered.

You moved closer to him on the bed, letting one hand timidly make contact with his back. Geralt said nothing when he felt your fingers on his skin, which gave you the confidence to explore his body with a little more freedom. You were careful with your touch, slowly tracing the lines marked on his skin as you memorized their shape and color, reading them as if they were the story of his life. You tried to guess which had come first, imagining the causes behind each rough line on his skin. Your fingers lingered a little longer on his shoulder as you discovered that beneath your fingertips there was a mark that was almost imperceptible to your eyes. It was almost the same color as his skin, but you could feel the difference in texture when you touched the area. It reminded you very much of the mark that had been left on your shoulder after a hunting accident when you were a child, and you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was the same age as you when that wound was made.

“Were they all done by the monsters you hunt?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Geralt closed his eyes as he felt your warm breath tickle the skin of his back. He focused on your touch, letting your fingers guide his memory and transport him back to the moments when those marks had been inflicted on his skin. The Striga, the Bruxa, the fight in that bar that one time, the Kikimora in the lake by the side of the road and, finally, the dislocated arm he earned on one of his first days of training when he was much smaller and skittish than he was now.

“Some were made by human swords as well... that's what I meant when I warned you of the danger I bring with me. It's not just the monsters.”

Geralt turned to look at you and met your confused expression. You were lost in thought for a moment and then, without a word, you removed the robe you were wearing, exposing the linen chemise dress that covered your body. The white fabric was loose but thin, exposing probably more than you wanted to before his eyes. He almost felt bad for looking at you until your hands grabbed his and pulled them to your shoulder, right where the short sleeve that held the chemise dress in place had slipped down.

You pressed Geralt's hand against you, feeling a warm tingle under your skin as his fingers finally made contact with the scar you were trying to show him. His eyes moved up from your collarbone to your face, looking at you curiously.

“I got this one when I was about 10 years old. My older brother was just starting to learn to hunt so my dad was going to take him on a hunting trip just the two of them. I begged him for days to let me go with them, I even promised him that I wouldn't leave his sight and I would do whatever he told me to do... He agreed, just to shut me up. And he was very careful all the time, they both were. But still things went wrong and I was shot with an arrow. The wound got infected and I almost died... my father had to carry me two villages away for a healer to cure me.”

Geralt listened to you attentively, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers slid gently down your shoulder. He wondered what point you were trying to make, though he had to admit he found it a bit difficult to focus having you so close. Your hand never let go of his. It remained lightly clinging to his wrist, giving him enough freedom to move across your skin but keeping it in place. He couldn't help but notice how small it looked in contrast to his, your slender but short fingers had trouble closing around his wrist while his hand could wrap around your entire shoulder.

He allowed you to move his hand once more, guiding it further south this time. You stretched one leg out on the bed, lifting your chemise dress up to thigh height. It was a slow, tortuous movement that Geralt followed closely with his eyes, silently admiring how you shyly exposed part of your body to him. Then you allowed his calloused fingers to make contact with the skin of your knee where he quickly found another mark.

“This one I got when I was even younger. I think I was about 8 years old or so. I fell off a horse and broke my leg. The bone was showing and everything! I fainted from the shock and I don't remember much of what happened. It took a long time to heal and even on rainy days it still hurts and I have a little trouble walking... My point is, we all have scars.”

You offered a warm smile to Geralt, but he looked away. His fingers ran over the faded lines on your knee a couple of times before he spoke.

“It's not the same.” He muttered, lost in thought.

Your smile widened slightly looking at Geralt with compassion. You reached out your free hand towards him, gripping his chin between your thumb and forefinger to force him to look at you. “Yes it is. They may not be equally heroic, but they represent the same thing... danger, risk of death, pain... Any one of those wounds could have ended my life because danger can come from anywhere, even in the comfort of this very house. Life is not a competition about who lives longer, but about who lives it better... if having you in my life shortens my lifespan 10 years I will take it without complaint because it is infinitely better than living 100 years under Lord Veldren's control.” You meant every word and sealed it by pressing your lips against Geralt's in a soft, gentle kiss.

The moment your lips connected you felt that spark again. A warm sensation spread through your body and you found it impossible to separate from Geralt. But this kiss was different from the one you had shared on the lakeside that night. It felt much more intimate and special. He let you set the pace, adapting to the movement of your lips and keeping his hands still. It was clear he was doing it for you, to make you feel comfortable and to allow you to set your own boundaries. And you found that incredibly sweet. His movements were slow and tender, caressing your lips with his as if he knew exactly what to do to sweep you off your feet.

But it wasn't long before you began to feel like you needed something more. As sweet as his lips felt against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted to feel his warmth enveloping you completely, to explore his body and leave your mark on his skin. You moved closer to him, deepening the kiss in an attempt to satiate the need that was growing rapidly deep inside you. Your hand clung properly to his chin and you sucked on his lower lip with fervor, your tongue timidly caressing his mouth as an invitation for more. Geralt's grip on your leg tightened, his fingers pressed against the sensitive skin of your thigh in warning. He was trying to slow you down, warning you that you were headed down a dangerous path. But all he got from you was a moan. The sweetest, most addictive sound, that vibrated against your lips and awakened a fire inside him.

Geralt's fingers tightened around your leg instinctively, a natural reaction to what your beautiful sounds were provoking in him. He was trying so hard to hold back and you were making it increasingly difficult for him. A moan escaped your lips again, feeling a pressure in your stomach and a pulse between your legs as his calloused fingers marked your skin. This time the sound was much louder and clearer, echoing in the witcher's ears as if it were a beautiful song. One that awakened his most primal desires.

When you fell silent he felt empty. An urgent need to know all the sounds of pleasure that he was able to get from you took over him. Suddenly he lost the little control he had left over his desires, but he gained control of the situation, guiding your body down onto the mattress without separating his lips from yours. He had only one goal in mind: to engrave forever in his memory the sound of your voice calling his name as you unraveled in his arms.

The moment Geralt took control, it was over for you. His body trapped you against the mattress, his much larger and imposing figure hovering over yours like a wolf over its prey. One of his hands rested beside your head, helping to keep his balance, the other ran up your thigh until it reached your hip, lifting your chemise dress in its path. His fingers left a trail of fire over your skin, increasing the pressure in your stomach and the wetness in your most intimate area. Geralt's lips moved down from your mouth to your neck, sucking and playfully nibbling at the sensitive skin with enough fervor to leave marks.

You caught your lower lip between your teeth, struggling to keep the moans from escaping your throat. You were embarrassed by the ease with which he could arouse such improper sounds in you. You sounded so pathetic —your voice so whiny and desperate— that it was hard to recognize your own voice. You didn't want to make a fool of yourself any more than you already were, so you fought against every instinct to keep those sounds inside you.

But Geralt didn't share the same thought. When he noticed what you were doing his hand traveled from your hip to your chin. He used his thumb to free your lower lip, pushing it away from your teeth in a delicate movement. His eyes admired your slightly swollen lips glistening with saliva. He resisted the temptation to kiss them once more, settling for gently caressing them with his thumb.

“Don't do that,” Geralt murmured in your ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your ear lobe. “I want to listen to you.”

He showed you no compassion as he placed his mouth on your neck again. He started soft, leaving a trail of wet kisses over the sensitive area just below your ear, a way to lure you into a false sense of security. Then he sucked and nibbled on the skin and didn't stop until he heard you moan under his touch. Only then he ran his tongue over the area, a gentle caress that sought to soothe the slightly irritated skin. And then he started the whole process all over again, working his way downward toward your collarbones.

“That's it, I want to hear you... I need to know that I'm making you feel good.” he whispered against your heated skin.

You wanted to answer him, to assure him that you had never felt anything like this before. But when you opened your mouth no sound came out, only an airy sigh as you felt his fingers brush your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt dress. Geralt took note of that and soon wrapped his hand around your breast, covering it completely. You arched your back towards him instinctively as he began to play with your nipple between his fingers. It was slightly painful when he pinched them, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

You instinctively tried to push your legs together, hoping that the pressure of your thighs together would be enough to relieve the throbbing need in your most sensitive area. But you were unable to do so because Geralt's leg rested between yours, keeping you open and in place for him. You moaned and squirmed under Geralt's body, frustrated and desperate for some relief. And his solution to your predicament was to push his thick thigh directly against your crotch.

You both moaned as you rubbed against his leg. Your eyes opened wide, surprised by the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body as it made contact with the fabric of Geralt's pants. You had never felt anything like it before, but it did wonders to soothe the pulsing heat inside you. So you moved your hips against him again and again until you established a slow, sensual rhythm that made your whole body feel on fire.

Geralt took a moment to admire you in the dim candlelight, noticing every little detail about you. You looked beautiful with your hair spread out on the bed and your soft, delicate skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your swollen, parted lips let out the sweetest sounds, inviting him to devour them once more. Your breasts moved slightly with each sway of your hips, tempting him to release them from their white linen confinement. He couldn't help but notice that you looked very different from the way you did the first time he saw you. The purity and innocence was still present in your eyes, but hidden behind the lust and desire that had taken over your body. He found it increasingly difficult to keep himself under control, especially when you looked at him with half-closed eyes in pleasure, mumbling incoherently as you soaked his thigh with your arousal.

He was amazed at how easy it was to bring you to that euphoric state. Your naivety on the subject made you more receptive to his caresses, all he had to do was touch you on the right place and say the right words and you would whimper for more. Geralt found it incredibly attractive. Knowing that he was the first man to see you in that state awakened something deep inside him. He was the one who was introducing you to the world of pleasure, he would become your standard, your only reference for judging another man's ability to perform, and he wanted to make sure that no one could ever compare to him.

“You look so pretty like this.” Geralt whispered against your lips, his hand clinging to your chin to make sure you didn't move your head back in pleasure. “Such a perfect little dove, feeling good to me.” The nickname escaped his lips without too much thought, but it was fitting. You were his little dove, white and innocent, but with a free spirit that longed to fly and explore the world.

Warmth poured into your cheeks, feeling nervous under the witcher's intense gaze. “Geralt...” you trailed off, not quite sure where you were going with the sentence. You wanted to ask him to stop, but at the same time you were sure you would cry if he pulled away from you. The friction was no longer enough, but you weren't sure you could take any more.

“What is it, my dove? Use your words.” The tone of his voice was gentle, but his lips curved upward in a devilish smile. It was such a distinct contrast that it startled you, it made you wonder if you were capable of enduring what he was dying to give you.

“I need more... I need you.”

“You already have me.” Geralt scattered little kisses down your chin and neck, and pressed his thigh a little harder against your crotch, giving you a better angle to move your hips.

You let out a pathetic moan, closing your eyes in embarrassment and frustration. “You know what I mean.” You mumbled, hoping he wouldn't make you say it out loud.

“I know, I know... but I need to get you ready first... I need to make sure you're ready to take me.”

Geralt pulled away from you and you let out a groan at the loss of the only amount of friction that was giving you some relief. However, he didn't stay away from you for long. His hands caressed their way down your body, making you gasp as you felt his fingers on your exposed thighs. You remained still, expectant. Your eyes didn't leave his figure for a second, waiting to see what his next move was.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” he asked you in a husky voice as his hands slowly moved up your thighs, getting dangerously close to your most intimate area. “Have you ever let another man kiss you and touch you like this? It's okay if you did, you don't have to feel ashamed of that with me.”

You shook your head, having trouble forming a coherent sentence as his fingers drew circles over the sensitive skin of your thighs. “No... I-I was waiting for the right person.” You managed to blurt out between gasps.

“Have you ever given yourself pleasure?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at that intimate and strange question. Were you supposed to? Was that a part of all this that you hadn't been told about? When you were old enough your mother had taken it upon herself to tell you certain things, but not even in the days leading up to the wedding had she talked about something like that. You had been raised under the belief that sex was something special only meant to be shared with a spouse. You had felt things in the past, but never acted on it, no more than squeezing your legs together to make the throbbing in your core stop.

“Was I supposed to?” You asked in a whisper, afraid you were doing something wrong.

You didn't have to be too bright to know that Geralt was experienced in the subject —it was clear in the way he moved, in how he kissed you, and in the confidence of his caresses— which only made you feel more aware of your inexperience. You were afraid that he expected something different, that your inexperience would be a problem and that he would reject you for it. You needed him and wanted him to have a good time too, you just weren't sure you could give it to him.

But Geralt smiled warmly at your response, his eyes looking at you with a softness in them that awakened butterflies in your stomach. He didn't seem angry or disappointed, which gave you some reassurance.

“Do you trust me to make you feel good?” His voice was a raspy whisper that made your heart flutter in your chest. You nodded your head, but that wasn't enough for him. “I need to hear you say it, dove.”

“I trust you, Geralt.” You said confidently.

Maybe it was the way you looked at each other as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of you, or maybe it was the slow, passionate kiss you shared afterwards, but the moment felt much more intimate and authentic than you expected. It was no longer just about carnal desire and feeling good, there was something much deeper behind your words and the softness in Geralt's eyes. It was about your connection, how comfortable and safe you felt in each other's arms. It wasn't love, at least not yet, but it was a spark.

Geralt's hands continued to travel up your body as he kissed you, lifting your chemise dress in his wake. The cool air of the room hit your exposed skin, a harsh contrast to the fiery trail his fingers awakened in their path. The higher they traveled, the more your heart pounded in your chest, racing with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Geralt pulled away from your lips as his exploring fingers reached the underside of your breasts. He looked into your eyes, searching them for consent before fully revealing your body to his hungry eyes. He didn't have to say anything and neither did you. You simply shifted your position and raised your arms so that he could remove the article of clothing with more ease.

You felt the need to cover yourself as you were finally exposed to him, feeling small and vulnerable under his intense gaze. Your hands instinctively went to cover your breasts, but Geralt stopped you before you could do so.

“Don't hide from me. You are beautiful and I want to take the time to admire and appreciate every part of you to show you how beautiful you are.”

This time it was you who sought his lips since you didn't have the words to express what his tender words and desire filled eyes made you feel. You gave yourself completely to him, body and soul, so that he could do with you whatever he wanted. You let his fingers explore every inch of your body and his lips mark your skin as if he were claiming ownership over your being. And you allowed yourself the same freedom, caressing his arms and back, burying your fingers in his long white hair as he lost himself in the crook of your neck.

When he buried his hand between your legs, your grip on his hair tightened, tugging lightly on the strands as waves of pleasure flooded through your body. It was a pleasure you had never felt before, intense and exhilarating. It set your whole body on fire and made it hard to breathe, but you were sure you would burst into tears if Geralt pulled away from you at that moment. It was all too much —Geralt's caresses, the feel of his body pressed against yours, the wetness of his lips attacking your most sensitive areas— the pleasure was overwhelming and with each passing second you felt more and more as if something inside you was going to snap.

“That's right, my beautiful wife, feeling good for me.” Geralt muttered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked deep into your eyes. You let out a pathetic moan in response, feeling your heart pound at hearing him call you his wife. You liked the sound of that, probably more than you should.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the moment. The pleasure and possessiveness of his words brought you to a high that had you completely enraptured. Your body no longer felt like yours, it no longer responded to you, but to Geralt's touch, his words and his kisses. You couldn't say that it bothered you. On the contrary, it felt good, right. You trusted him with your body, mind and soul, you knew he would take good care of you.

You were brought back to the moment when you felt a pressure in your core. You opened your eyes, alarmed, as you felt one of Geralt's long, thick fingers slowly slide inside you. Your hand flew to his forearm, gripping it to stop him. It hurt. It wasn't unbearable, but it was uncomfortable. You could feel your velvety walls stretching open, struggling to accommodate his finger.

“Sshh, I know, I know,” Geralt's reassuring voice echoed in your ears. “It hurts, I know. But it'll be just for a moment until you get used to it. Then it will feel good, I promise... Do you trust me?”

Your grip on his arm lightened at his question, a silent answer that you reaffirmed with an affirming nod of your head. “Yes, I trust you.”

“Then let me show you how good it can feel.”

You did not remove your hand from his arm, but allowed him to continue. Geralt's movements became extremely slow and careful. He distracted you from the pain with pleasure, spreading kisses over every inch of skin his lips could reach, and resuming the gentle caresses of his thumb over your little bundle of nerves. Soon the pressure dissipated, your walls opening up to him, inviting him to get lost deep inside with the slipperiness of your arousal. And so he did, pushing his finger deep inside you in search of that special place that would make your toes curl and your back arch in pleasure.

He knew he found it when the volume of your moans increased and you rolled your eyes back. Your grip on his arm tightened, only this time not as a signal to stop, but as a desperate search for some support, something to help you stay grounded while the pleasure consumed you. It hurt a little when he added a second finger to his intrusion, but not as much as the first time. You were more relaxed and more comfortable. You knew you could take it and that the reward for doing so was pleasure like you had never felt before, so you bit your lower lip and took it.

It didn't take long for you to feel yourself on the edge of explosion, the tension in your belly getting tighter to the point of being unbearable. Your moans became more whiny and incoherent, your body moving without your control to the tune of Geralt's touch. You felt you could take no more, but at the same time you needed to know what lay beyond the limit.

“Geralt, I can't... it's too much.” You managed to blurt out between incessant panting. Your vision was getting slightly blurry and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You tried to pull away from Geralt's arms, but he wouldn't let you. He trapped you under his towering figure to make sure you couldn't escape his touch.

“Yes you can. I know you can... You just have to let go, all right? It's okay, I'm here. I've got you. I've got you. You're alright. Just let go, you're safe with me.”

The softness of his words contrasted with the firmness of his touch, his fingers attacking your most sensitive area without any mercy. And the combined effort of both of them was enough to push you over the edge. Your body tensed and white lights exploded behind your eyelids as waves of pleasure washed over you. The world around you ceased to exist. You could hear Geralt's voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear and feel his soft caresses on your skin, guiding you through your climax, but it all felt distant, like a dream. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure that shook your body.

Geralt's golden gaze was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. He was silently admiring you, one finger stroking your cheek in a circular pattern while his eyes watched every little detail of your face. There was something in his gaze, a sparkle in his eyes that captivated you. It was more than lust, more than the lasciviousness you were used to seeing in Lord Veldren's eyes. You couldn't quite name it, but you knew it made you feel good, comfortable and safe. Geralt desired you, but not in the possessive, objectifying way that your previous suitor did. When he looked at you as he did at that moment you knew he didn't see an object he wanted to possess, he saw you as the woman you were. You felt seen by Geralt in a way you had never experienced before. He gave you confidence and self-assurance and you loved the way that felt.

“How do you feel?” his raspy voice whispered close to your ear.

The corners of your lips curved upward slightly, demonstrating the state of complete bliss you were in. “Good... I'm fine.”

“You did so well...” Geralt trailed off, his thumb following the line of your lips as his mind was lost in the image of your eyes closed and your mouth parted open letting out moans and gasps as you came undone in his arms.

It was a beautiful image that he wanted to engrave forever in his memory. Giving you pleasure was his new addiction, the way your body trembled beneath him, the sounds you made, the scent of your arousal, it was all too intoxicating. He was dying to see you in such a state again. And again. And again and again, until his scent was so impregnated into your skin that everyone knew you were his wife when they came near you.

“Do you think you're ready for more?”

You nodded eagerly, regaining the strength to lift your arms and cling to Geralt's neck, pulling him to you to melt into a kiss. “I am, I want everything from you... I want to make you feel good too, even if I don't know how.” You admitted with some embarrassment.

“You don't have to worry about that, my beloved. It makes me feel good to see you enjoy yourself. Tonight is about you and I will take it upon myself to show you all the pleasure you don't know.”

Your heart pounded as you heard the affectionate nickname he used for you. His beloved... You liked the sound of it, even when it wasn't real. You let yourself get lost in the moment, drifting into a reality where he really loved you enough for those words to mean something.

The softness in his voice and the tenderness of his touch made you feel good, safe. It was soothing to know that he had no great expectations for you and was willing to take the time to teach you what you didn't know. However, your newfound confidence suffered a blow the moment his naked body was completely exposed to your curious eyes. He was beautiful and big, almost too big. As you looked at him you remembered the discomfort you felt when his fingers pushed inside you and felt your stomach twist with nerves, thinking there was no way the experience could be pleasurable for both of you.

Geralt noticed the concern on your face immediately and rushed to comfort you. His body was on top of yours in no time, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he looked at you with softness in his eyes. “You need to relax,” he muttered against your lips.

“B-but, it's going to hurt...it won't fit.” You closed your eyes as he spoke, feeling embarrassment taking hold of you. You wanted nothing more than to make him feel good and let him guide you through the pleasure, but you had to admit you were a little nervous.

You feared that your comment had ruined the moment, that Geralt had grown tired of your hesitation and decided to leave you and go to sleep. But instead of scoffing, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, making you open your eyes again.

“It will fit. We'll make it fit. That's why I spent all this time getting you ready for me...so you'd be wet and ready to take me.” Geralt spread little wet kisses down your jaw to your neck as he spoke. If it was a strategy to distract you it was working wonders, because you could start to feel your body relax again. “It's going to hurt a little at first, just like before. But then it will feel good... We'll go slow and if at any point you feel it's too much we'll stop completely, alright? You are in control here.”

His words relaxed you more than you expected and with a simple kiss and a slight nod you gave Geralt permission to continue his assault on your body.

You winced as he began to thrust inside you. It felt a lot more uncomfortable than his fingers, though not so strange anymore. Your walls were struggling to accommodate his size and that resulted in a sharp burning pain between your legs that led you to consider stopping everything. And honestly you would have if Geralt hadn't let out the most beautiful sound you'd heard all night. It was a moan like no other so far, a primal growl that came from deep inside him, vibrating in his chest and filling you with confidence. You were making him feel good. Even if it hurt a little, even if you didn't quite know what to do, you were making him feel good. It filled your chest with pride and confidence to know that you were capable of such a thing and that was what you focused on to overcome the pain.

Your hands clung to him, nails digging into his back as you closed your eyes and focused all your attention on him, on his gasps and the way his body pressed down closer into yours.

“That's it, you're doing so well for me, dove” Geralt encouraged you between ragged breaths and a warm feeling filled your insides at the praise. “Just a little more, you can do it.”

“Geralt” you sighed, a mix of pain and pleasure clear in your voice. It was a plea for him to stop and for him to continue all at the same time, the expression of the conflicting sensations you felt inside you.

Geralt felt as if he could die at that very moment. The high-pitched whine in your voice, the glimmer in your eyes from tears and the hunger in your gaze was all too much. Your arousal helped him slide in with ease and he had to control himself from slipping inside you in one quick thrust. You felt so good, so wet and tight that he was going crazy. Slowly thrusting inside you was torture, but it was one he was willing to endure to make you feel comfortable and safe.

He stood still for a moment when he finally pushed all the way into you, giving you time to adjust to him as he enjoyed your warmth. “Can you feel me deep inside you, filling you more than you've ever been?” Geralt whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. “You know what that means, huh? It means you're mine now.”

Your walls tightened around him, causing you both to let out a moan of pleasure. The pain slowly dissipated as your body molded to his almost as if to honor his words. You were his, body and soul. The burning pain turned to pulsing desire and it wasn't long before you were squirming beneath Geralt's body, struggling to find some friction to relieve the pressure between your legs.

“I'm yours... I'm yours...” you repeated between wet kisses, giving him the power to do whatever he wanted with you. “Please...”

Geralt loved hearing the plea escape your lips, a whiny whisper that let him know you were ready for more. He enjoyed the way you looked up at him waiting expectantly for every move, every word, knowing that only he could bring you to that sweet relief once again. He almost wanted to hear you beg more for it, to watch you squirm under his body and whimper in frustration until he decided to give you what you so desperately needed. But he wasn't sure he could hold on that long to feel you fall apart in his arms one more time. He needed to feel you and he needed it now.

“I know, I know... I got you” Geralt breathed as he slowly slid his member almost all the way out of you. You threw your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes as you felt the delicious drag along your walls. He held still for a moment and then thrust inside you again, only with a little more force this time.

The moan that escaped your lips was both obscene and pathetic in equal parts. And Geralt loved every second of it.

“Does that feel good? Was that what you wanted?” You knew Geralt was making sure you were okay with those questions, they weren't necessarily meant for you to have a particular reaction to them, just to communicate your state to him. But there was something in the tone of his voice that sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body.

“Yes, yes! More, please, more!” was all you could blurt out between gasps, but Geralt didn't hesitate to indulge you.

He set a slow, sensual pace at first, dragging his member torturously slow along your walls before thrusting back inside you, using a little more force with each time. His lips never left your body, kissing every bit of exposed skin they could reach. His hands closed over your hips, holding you in place to make sure each thrust of his cock reached that special place inside you that made you scream.

Once you got used to his rhythm, you began to move your hips at the same pace, seeking to meet him halfway and forcing him inside you when he took too long. One of your hands got lost in his hair, grabbing and pulling the strands between your fingers when pleasure overwhelmed you or you wanted to feel his lips in a specific place. Your other hand clung to his broad back, nails digging into the skin until they left marks that would not fade the next morning. And Geralt loved every second of it.

He loved knowing you were feeling good. He loved being the one guiding you, teaching you things about your own body that you didn't even know yourself. But most of all, he loved the idea of you leaving your mark on his skin just as he was marking yours. Being inside you —feeling the warmth of your walls clenching around his cock, hearing your incessant moans and smelling the scent of your arousal in the air— had awakened something primal inside him, a possessiveness he didn't know he was capable of feeling. You were his after tonight and he wanted everyone to know it just by looking at you. No other man would ever dare to get close to you because his scent would be forever present on your skin, warning everyone not to lay a finger on you because you were already his.

“That's it, mark me as yours... I am yours and you are mine... mine to protect. Mine to please and to take care of. Mine to fuck and guide through the most intense carnal pleasures... Mine... My woman.” Geralt emphasized each sentence with a thrust bringing you closer and closer to that sweet relief. His movements were becoming more and more rough and sloppy, signaling that he was close to losing control as well.

You were slowly losing your grip on reality, your mind spiraling with pleasure. It was hard to concentrate on anything but the heat coursing through your body, but Geralt's words managed to bring you back to reality. The roughness in his voice and the possessiveness of his affirmations were a lethal mix designed to push you to the limit of what you could bear.

“Yes, yes! I'm yours, forever... I need... please.” You weren't being very coherent, but Geralt understood perfectly well what you wanted. He could feel the way your walls tightened around him, swallowing his cock deep inside you. You were close to exploding and he was more than willing to take you there.

“I know, I know... I got you, it's okay. You can let go, just relax. Take a deep breath... that's it. Let go, I've got you. I want to feel you come apart around me, please.”

Geralt's fingers pressed against your little bundle of nerves, drawing small circles on the swollen, sensitive skin. His thrusts became more precise, hitting that special place inside you with each thrust. His words were interpreted by your body as a command and in a matter of seconds the pleasure exploded inside you, spreading throughout your body.

You fell limp in Geralt's arms, overwhelmed and ecstatic. He only slowed his assault on your body for a moment, his hips almost ceasing to move to give you time to catch your breath.

“That's it, my good dove” he praised you as his thumb drew circles over the skin of your hip. “I wish you could see yourself right now... so beautiful, so fragile... Do you think you can take a little more? I need to fill you, to mark you as mine in the deepest, most intimate way possible, do you think you can take it?”

You moaned in response, already feeling his hips begin to pick up the pace ever so slowly. There was nothing you wanted more than that. You wanted to be his forever, even outside these four walls. You wanted to feel his warmth always with you and the weight of his body against yours. You longed to feel his scent on your skin and see the marks of his kisses on your body. You wanted everything he had to give you and you were willing to do anything to get it.

“Yes, I can take it! Please give it to me! I need it... I need it all from you, please.” you pleaded eagerly and in response Geralt thrust his hips against yours, setting a fast and lethal rhythm.

It was clear he was using you for his pleasure now, but even then your body responded to his touches, the tension building again in your belly. It was as if you were no longer in control of your own body, as if it had stopped recognizing you as the one in charge and instead waited for Geralt's orders to react. And you didn't fight against it one bit, you simply let yourself be carried away by passion, feeling the pleasure through him.

His movements became more and more erratic and his moans louder and more frequent. He was losing control and you loved knowing that you were capable of causing something like that in him. You liked that he was using you for his own pleasure, that he was focusing on himself and using your body as a tool to achieve that sweet relief. He wasn't actively working on it, but with every thrust and moan he let out he brought you closer to that same edge. It was sweet and overwhelming. You felt the urge to escape from his arms so you could catch your breath, but your body could only press harder into Geralt's, moving your hips to help him find the pleasure he had shown you.

And it wasn't long before you both exploded in a sea of moans and pleasure.

“That's it, take it all in... take my seed deep inside you. Feel me inside you filling you up, claiming what belongs to me.” Geralt growled as he painted your walls with his essence, which mingled with the remnants of your release. “No one else is ever going to get the chance to feel this ever. You are mine... mine.”

You could do nothing but respond in whimpers of pleasure as your body shook with the intensity of your own orgasm, amplified by Geralt's words and the sensation of being filled with his seed.

You lost consciousness after that, reality slipping through your fingers like sand. You could hear Geralt mumbling sweet words in your ear and feel his fingers gently caressing your skin, but you didn't have the strength or ability to move or respond to him. You just laid there in his arms, full and in a state of complete bliss for who knows how long. The passage of time was a concept that had ceased to exist for you. The world around you seemed to have slowed down, but inside you felt your body working at an accelerated pace. Your heart pounded hard against your chest, the sound of pumping blood echoing in your ears. Your lungs struggled to get enough air so that your body could relax, your short, quickened breaths slowly finding a calmer rhythm as time passed.

Geralt took care of you every step of the way as you came down from your high, spreading soft kisses over your skin and whispering praise in your ear. He even went to the trouble of tucking you into bed and covering you with the sheets so that you wouldn't get cold once your body returned to normal temperature. And when you regained consciousness, his gentle smile was the first thing your eyes saw.

“There you are!” He said, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear so he could admire your sweet face in all its glory. He would be lying if he said he wasn't proud of the expression of pure pleasure and satisfaction that graced your face. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine... tired, but fine.” You let out an airy chuckle, still feeling somewhat disconnected from everything.

You both remained silent for a moment, looking into each other's eyes. You couldn't help but think that there was something different about the way Geralt was looking at you. It was something you had noticed before, but you thought it was due to the intensity of the moment. Although now that everything was calmer you began to think it was something else. You didn't quite know how to explain what you saw in his eyes, but you knew you liked the way he made you feel. The only way you could describe it was a soft, comforting warmth, like a sunny spring morning. It felt like a caress to the soul, a tender gesture that awakened a tingle inside you. You felt safe under his gaze, seen in a way you had never experienced with a man.

“Thank you...” your voice broke the silence, ”for everything, I guess... for protecting me, for being such a gentleman, for treating me so well...” You were interrupted by the yawn that escaped involuntarily from your lips, reminding you once again how tired you were. “You gave me a perfect night... If you decide to leave tomorrow and I never see you again, you still leave me with the memory of a beautiful wedding night.”

Geralt was surprised by how much he disliked the idea of walking away from you. He knew he had to do it and a couple of hours ago he was more than ready to do it, but now things had changed. Separating from you was not as easy now that he had you naked in his arms, looking at him with narrowed eyes full of pleasure. It wasn't easy after having heard you beg for his name or having inhaled the scent of your essence. It wasn't easy at all now that he had claimed you as his own, marking you in the most intimate way he could, leaving his mark forever on your skin. He no longer wanted to be away from you and was willing to fight anyone who wanted to come between you. And, to be honest, that scared him a little.

“It's okay... rest.” He murmured gently as he noticed the way you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “We'll have plenty of time to talk in the morning. You need to rest now, my dove.”

The last thing you felt before you surrendered to sleep was Geralt's arms pressing you against his body, letting you rest your head on his chest as he traced sweet caresses on the skin of your back.

The month you shared with Geralt alone in your home was beautiful. You loved waking up tangled in the sheets and his arms, and his honey colored eyes being the first thing you saw in the morning. You loved chatting with him over breakfast and taking long walks around town hand in hand. You especially liked the way he would put his arm around you when a man dared to even look at you for too long, and how he would show you off when his walks through the marketplace ran into one of Lord Veldren's men. At first it was in a provocative way, as if he was looking to generate a reaction in the man, but after days passed and he did not show up at his door to challenge him and fight for your hand, Geralt knew he had won. Then the gentle kisses and soft caresses in front of his men —and in front of Lord Veldren himself on one occasion— went from being a provocation to a brag, a constant display of the weakness the Lord sought so hard to hide.

You learned a lot about Geralt in this time, about his life, his profession and the important people in his life —although perhaps not as much as you would like, as it was hard to get him to talk. Your favorite thing was listening to the tales of his adventures at night when you were both lying in bed. He didn't seem to find them as fascinating as you did, since you sensed a slight annoyance in his eyes whenever you insisted on the subject, but he never refused to indulge you. You loved listening to him talk, especially at night when the warmth of his chest and the deep sound of his voice lulled you to sleep. But besides being a cure for your restless nights, you quickly discovered that his stories were a good way to get to know him better. Geralt wasn't good at talking about himself or his life when you asked him a direct question, but through the way he recounted his travels you were able to gather little bits and pieces of his persona —the way he thought, his moral compass, details of his work and the reality of witchers that you didn't know. You found his world fascinating, frightening and dangerous at times, but fascinating nonetheless.

However, all good things always come to an end, in your experience, sooner rather than later. And this was yours. The day had finally come for Geralt to leave and you woke up that morning terrified that you would never see him again.

You hadn't talked much about it, since you were both secretly dreading the mere thought of being apart. And this morning was no different. You went about your routine as if it were any ordinary day, though with the heavy tension in the air that came from knowing it wasn't. You tried your best to ignore it as much as possible, looking for every excuse to spend more time together, making the most of what you had left. The morning chores were a bit delayed, as getting out of bed proved to be a particularly difficult task when all you wanted to do was melt into each other's bodies until you were one. But beyond the desperation to be with each other, there was not a single mention of the countdown you both had in the back of your mind.

When Geralt had marked this date as the day of his departure he had assured you that it would not be permanent and in the blissful happiness of the moment you had believed him. But now that the time had come, you couldn't help but be saddened not only by having to part from him, but also by not knowing for how long. You had spent a beautiful time together and you wanted to believe that it would be enough for Geralt to want to come back to your arms, but the reality was that you didn't know. You couldn't help but think that he had been almost forced into this marriage and you feared that going back to his old routines would put things in perspective. After all, there was a reason he had refused your proposal so much the first time. He had only agreed to marry you after spending time living with your family, losing himself in a reality far different from his own, and you were afraid that getting back on the road would show him what a big mistake he had made.

You couldn't stop thinking about it as you watched him from the kitchen window, gathering his things and slowly loading them onto Roach. You wanted to run over there and ask him the thousands of questions that were running through your mind. You wanted more than anything to hear him reassure you that everything would be okay and that he would come back for you, but you knew you couldn't completely trust his words. That may well be what he was thinking and feeling now, but there was no way of knowing how time alone on the road, accompanied only by his old habits, could possibly change him. There was no point in exchanging words, so you focused your attention on preparing and packing some supplies for his journey, so that at least he would have fresh food and water until he reached the next town.

You dared to step outside when you noticed that Geralt was almost finished settling his saddle, signaling that you didn't have much time left to keep lamenting about the future. You approached him with a slow step, as if you were looking for any way to drag out every second, taking advantage of the moment to memorize every detail you could find in his sideways profile.

“So you're leaving, huh?” you finally broke the silence, causing Geralt to raise his head to look at you. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard you approach, though it was a pleasant surprise.

At least until he noticed the doubt in your eyes.

“For a while, yes. I have business to take care of, people that are waiting for me... but I'll be back.”

You weren't able to hold his gaze, your eyes focusing on the grass beneath your feet as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. The last thing you wanted to do at that moment was cry, but you could start to feel the tears building up in your eyes.

Geralt noticed your concern and disbelief, and knew he couldn't leave until you knew he was being honest. He needed to make sure you understood that he wasn't playing games and that he intended to keep the promise he had made to you that evening in front of your family.

He hooked his fingers under your chin, using them as leverage to tilt your face up and force you to look at him. “I will come back for you.” Geralt assured you. “I promise.”

“You don't have to, that was the arrangement. Lord Veldren has already found another girl to focus his attention on so he no longer presents a danger to me or my family. You are free to go on with your life as it was before our paths crossed.”

“That's where you're wrong.” The corners of Geralt's lips curved upward slightly at your gesture of confusion. “Our paths did cross and I can't go back now. I can't go on with my life pretending you don't exist, that this time we shared didn't happen... I don't want to. I want to come back for you... and next time I will be the one to share some of his life with you. Perhaps I'll take you on the road with me, how about that?”

Even though nothing had changed, his words managed to bring a smile to your face and soothe your aching heart. There was something in his beautiful honey eyes that invited you to trust him, and the promise to take you on a trip with him made everything more real. It wasn't just words spoken into the wind, it was an idea, a plan for the future, something on which to build your relationship and, why not, a home over time. It was a first step, one of many you had to take if you wanted your relationship to continue, and Geralt was assuring you that he was willing to take it together, as it should be. So, while you were still saddened by his departure, you chose to give your mind and heart a break by believing his words.

“I would like that very much.” You muttered before pressing your lips together in a kiss, sealing your promise.

Watching Geralt leave was not easy, but his promise left you with some comfort. Tears escaped your eyes as you watched his white hair disappear into the horizon, and an aching emptiness built in your chest as you stepped back into a silent house that felt so much bigger now that you were alone. You realized then that you were going to miss him more than you thought and that the time apart would be much harder to endure than you had imagined. Only minutes had passed and you were already contemplating leaving everything behind, grabbing a horse and running to catch up with him. And you knew that feeling would only get worse as the days went by, growing and growing until it became unbearable. And it wouldn't go away until you saw his figure on the horizon again, coming back into your arms where he belonged.

Still, in the midst of your sad contemplation a smile formed on your lips. A gust of wind had blown in through the open kitchen window, and it brought dancing up to your nose the distinctive smell of leather, earth and wood of Geralt. And you realized then that he was still there with you, his scent lingering in the air, on your clothes, on the sheets on the bed and even on your own skin. And there he would remain with you forever, because you were his and he was yours.

Geralt of Rivia tag list: @steviebbboi @feel-my-psycho-love

(I'm so sorry guys I forgot to tag you when I posted it)

[lunajay33]

Protect Me

•🤎🪵🌲🪨•

Summary: Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl, Sam and Dean always tried to protect you but on one hunt the monster takes you and the after math is bad, so they have to call in John

Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister, Dean Winchester x sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl in this family work, I’m only a year younger than Sam but still I felt like a baby compared to them, when Sam went off to school it was just Dean and me and dad took it hard especially on me, he pushed me to work harder all the time and the pressure became overwhelming

Well now he’s missing and it’s just me and my brothers, driving down the interstate to a new mission, this one was a bit out of my league, vampires, they’re strong and I don’t have as much experience with them as Sam and Dean

“Hey you okay back there, you’re pretty quiet” Dean asks as he looks through the rearview mirror

“Oh yeah just nervous”

“Hey we’ll be there the whole time, nothings going to happen to you sis” Sam smiles as he turns back to me

“Do you think we’ll find dad soon?”

“I don’t know kid, soon I hope”

After a bit more driving we made it to the motel and it was time to do some digging on these vampires as Dean came back with take out for supper

“Can I ask you guys something?” I sigh closing a historic book of the town

“Sure what’s up kid” Dean asks as he chows down on a burger

“Do you think dad left because of me?” They both stopped and gave me their full attention

“Why would you say that?” Sam asks giving me his puppy expression

“Well I’m not as good as Dean and he’s been getting more and more angry with me every mission, maybe he just didn’t wanna deal with me anymore, maybe he finally realized I’m just a burden” my bottom lip trembled finally letting out the feelings I’ve been holding in

“Are you nuts? Dad was only being hard because he wanted to make sure you were safe he loves you”

“Yeah you’re his daughter and he’d never leave us like this because of a few mistakes, don’t worry your little head” Sam reach over the table squeezing my shoulder

“Alright” I sigh going back to reading

•

The next day we gathered our supplies and were off to find them finding their small nest was camped out somewhere in the woods, we got out of the impala on a dirt road, getting our weapons ready

“Okay make sure you stay alert, watch eachothers back” Dean states and we start out into the darkening woods

My heart was beating so fast that’s all I could hear, walking behind Dean with Sam behind me, when a cry comes from up ahead and we’re sprinting towards it carefully but not quiet enough

I feel myself being thrown across the damp forest floor until a tree smashed against my back and I’m crumbling on the ground in pain

“Y/N!” Dean and Sam scream as they run towards me but they stop when I’m pulled up from behind by my throat my feet dangling above the ground

“Dean” I gasp as the air burns in my lungs and my vision blurs

“You leave us alone and leave town” the vampire states

“Oh not a chance we’re gonna kill every single one of you” that only angered it as it took my arm and effortlessly snapped it like a twig, I scream wailing in pain

“I won’t ask again”

“Fine fine we’ll go, just stop hurting her” Sam called out desperate

“If you come back again, she’s dead” the vampire hissed before throwing me to my brothers feet and it was gone

My arm felt like it’s been set on fire, my throat hurt so much I could barely breath, my back felt like a thousand knives had been ripping me open

I whine in pain as Sam picks me up, crying into his chest as they run back to the car frantic

“Just hold on we’re going to the hospital you’ll be fine” Sam says as he gently lays me in his lap in the back of the car as Dean puts his foot pedal to the metal driving so fast it was almost nauseating

The pain was all consuming I just want to close my eyes

“Hey you gotta stay awake” Sam says shaking me gently but the darkness took me and I was out

•

The beeping woke me up, opening my eyes to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the monitor and the hallway

I try to sit up but gasp from the pain, noticing my arm in a cast and a brace around my neck, immediately Sam and Dean woke up from where they were sat in the chairs

“Hey you’re awake how do you feel?” Dean asks as Sam pushes my hair back

I open my mouth trying to answer but nothing comes out except a whine, my throat felt like a machete had been sliced through it as we would a vampire

“Can you talk?” Sam asks worried

I try again but nothing, I shake my head defeated and scared, scared they see I really am useless and they’ll leave me behind, the anxiety is all consuming and I know they can tell I’m upset

“Come on let’s get you back to the motel, just be gentle” they helped me sit up slowly placing me in the wheelchair and wheeling me out to the impala

When we get back to the motel I hobble over to the bathroom my back on fire as I slowly take off the neck brace, revealing the black and blue that covered the entirety of my throat , my eyes red from the burst blood vessels, lifting my shirt I turn seeing my back in the same condition also covered in cuts

“Oh sis, I’m so sorry” Sam came in seeing everything, I pull my shirt back down and make my way over to my bed Dean helping me lay down

“Can we get you anything? I’ll go out and get your favorite food” I reach out and grip his necklace and he knew what I meant he sighed and nodded, we all knew it probably wouldn’t work he hasn’t been answering calls so why would he this time

Dean picked up his phone and called I could faintly hear the voice mail if grown accustom to

“Dad it’s y/n she’s really hurt, she needs you, please if you get this this would be the time to show up” he closed his phone and sat next to me rubbing my leg

“It’ll be okay, you’ve still got us Angel” I nodded before drifting off to sleep again

My dreams are consumed by every hunting mistake I’ve made, everytime dad was mad at me, everytime I let them all down I wake up with a gasp again when I hear the front door slam open, I slowly sit up feeling my shirt rid up and that’s when I hear him, the voice I’ve missed so much

“Oh my baby girl” he comes around the bed and kneels infront of me, taking in my horrific beat up body

“The vampire it got a hold of her before we even saw it” Sam said

“I…..” that’s all I could get out before I was aching with pain keeling over as the waves of pain rolled over me

He took my shoulders and held me close

“This is why I’ve always been so hard on you, cause see you like this kills me, I promised your mother I’d never let anything bad happen to you” he sighed

At least they were all here now

“Maybe she needs to take a break for a while” Dean intervened

“Yeah and I’m not leaving till your better” I nodded feeling a little more relieved finally having my family back together

[directdogman]

random DSaF thing I'm not sure if people picked up on.

Something significant about the DSaF 3 phones that popped into my head while I was writing the last post comparing Peter's DSaF 2 and DT incarnations that I didn't bother mentioning bc it was long enough

Harry and Jake are actually parallels to Steven + Peter respectively with a few major differences applied. (warning a LOT of text:)

Both Harry + Steven are generation 1 phones. They're both shown to be fairly by the book and are able to completely turn off their empathy when situations call for it. Both are completely disconnected from their former identities in a way that the other phones aren't. To further cement this connection, Harry is even shown to be the one that sent Steven to the factory. If an employee dies in your restaurant, Harry's response to it is pretty much what Steven's would've been.

Ultimately, he is a company man, like Steven. Just like Steven trying to save himself by any means necessary in DSaF 1, his confrontation in DSaF 3's evil route specifically talks about how much you've cost him and while he clearly feels disgust with you, he more so drills the futility and sheer callousness of what you're doing in rather than really tries to make you feel bad for the bad things you do. He speaks to you like you're more of a failure than anything else. You're not HIS employee, but as the former head of the franchise, speaking to the person who just killed it for the final time. He focuses on what you specifically took away from him, turning the conversation back to himself. His final words are a cold goodbye. His response to your actions is close to what Steven's could've been in this situation.

Ultimately, he's even more of an insider than Steven and someone with more of a direct connection to the cycle of misery that occurred at Freddy's. Basically, several of Steven's defining qualities are amped up in different ways.

Peter on the other hand, is not a company man. He's a gen 2 phoney, more in touch with his personal identity and in the good ending of 2, even escapes in order to reunite with his old lost family. He's generally a chiller boss than Steven, clearly caring more about the well-being of staff/customers than making the company happy.

Jake, similarly, also is in touch with his personal identity. Like Peter, he escaped in order to find his family, but as his backstory scene in 3 points out, this didn't go to plan. Jake, on the surface, seems like a polar opposite to Peter in how overtly cynical he is, a word he deliberately uses to describe himself in his DSaF 3 callout. However, this actually masks something that's more evident if you listen to him in certain key scenes.

Jake cares about others. A LOT. I based his characterization on a George Carlin quote: 'Scratch [the surface of] a cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist'. It shows what Peter could've been if he'd never reconnected with his family or been able to correct any of the ills he came across. Someone who was worn down by life and put up walls as a result. But, the underlying care is still there and affects his decisions/words at key moments.

If you read his equivalent callout in 3 very carefully, there's some pretty strong parallels to Peter's callout in 2. He notably drills home the fact that you abused the trust of customers so you could feed like a monster. He mentions having higher hopes for you, hoping you were going to be someone better. Even after all Jack's done, he still expresses shock that he feels no remorse at all. His scene ends with a much harsher line, commanding Jack to never contact him again, akin to Peter's closing line in the equivalent 2 scene.

Also, notably, he breaks the no cursing Phone Guy rule in the scene. His reaction if an employee gets springlocked at your location is also noticeably more Peter-esque, remembering what he went through and not wanting another person to turn out the same, in contrast to Harry deciding to just go by the book, a decision that directly led to the creation of Steven pre-DSaF 1.

Okay, that's about it. I bet there's people out there who caught this (knowing me, I've said all of this before and forgot about it) but I figured a few people might find it interesting regardless. thanks, everyone!

[cranberryjuice-posts]

please do clarisse la rue x aphrodite reader who’s gorgeous and glowing and short like a ball of sunshine

- opposites attract -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Aphrodite! Reader

An - ive gotta rewrite by Abby series bc it’s not going the way I want it 😭 I wasn’t really sure exactly what to write so I hope this is good 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Everyone at camphalf blood knew who you were. Not for negative reasons however. Being a daughter of Aphrodite not only boosted your social status but it was also your actions.

The first to volunteer to help when the infirmary was low on staff, ready to take on any chore from helping run the camp store to labor jobs that required you to get dirty. Even when the saytrs felt as though they were being ignored by the demigods you helped give them their voice.

So when you of all people started dating clarisse the most intimidating person at camp it was a bit of a culture shock. Though with you sweet and kind nature you seemingly took the most aggressive cabin and somehow made them slightly calmer.

Though when people tried to approach clarisse about you her former aggressiveness would come back. Most things that involved you got her heated. The recent endeavor being you both Separated for the weeks capture the flag game.

“No you’re on my team it’s not for discussion” clarisse spoke as if she knew it was fact, her arms crossed and her armor on you couldn’t help but fall back in love with her.

“But it is for discussion because I’m not” you chuckled softly, a gentle smile crossing your features. “I’ll be fine Claire I’m not a child”

“I’m aware of that but what if someone on my team hurts you? Or what if you get hurt by one of our traps I don’t like not being able to protect you” she placed her hands on her hips trying to open her stance to you.

“Aww” you gave a playful frown tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Placing both hands on her cheeks you gave them a small squeeze. “I’m ok, besides I have charmspeak remember I know how to handle myself”

Her shifting weight and the look of annoyance on her face all showed she did care about you deep down, and as much as people wanted to Deny it clarisse was yours just as much as you were hers. “I’ll see you after the game pretty” stepping on your tippy toes you gave her a kiss.

Turning to start walking away clarisse began yelling instructions to you. “Wait! Make sure your breast plate is tight— oh! And be sure to wear a helmet an—-“

“I got it clarisse!” You laughed back at her, giving her a final wave.

——-

The games had already began with you being in charge of reclaiming the flag with Luke and his team.

Stepping through the forest you carefully looked around worried that maybe someone would jump out. Which like it was a movie happened. Red team kids running out with blades swinging. Blue team defending themselves and you mentally scolding yourself for not wearing enough armor.

Before you even realized it you had a deep cut in your calf. Landing on the ground with a cry of pain you looked back instantly having to dodge the falling camper.

“You good!” Luke shouted helping you up, limping some you found your balance breathlessly nodding. The red team currently had either been knocked to the ground or retreated in fear.

“The flags up ahead.. behind Zeus’s fist if I’m correct” you took a stance against a tree, using it as support. “I’m gonna stay here”

“You’re sure you’re fine” he asked cautiously. Even though luke knew clarisse couldn’t touch him he still didn’t want to hear her mouth afterwards.

You nodded giving him a semi confident look. “Just go” You chuckled sending him off.

Though it was quiet for a while you heard a crying like sound. Confused you pushed off the tree and started limping towards the noise. Through the trees and down to the creek you saw a hurt hell hound.

Most times you would of killed a monster without hesitation but this time… this time she wasn’t a monster. It seemed crazy but this hell hound almost seemed domesticated.

Slowly walking towards her You knelt down beside the dog. At first she bared her teeth at you acting as though you wanted to hurt her, but once she realized you meant no harm she pressed her snout against you.

Once gaining her trust you began to examine her leg. Realizing it was broken you made the conscious decision to quickly leave to grab some sticks for a splint. Petting the hound softly you got up limping away some.

The ground was filled with a multitude of twigs though finding your two heafty pieces of wood was easy. The sound of the conch and a campers scream filled your ears, nearly running back to the creek you saw about all of the kids from the two teams with clarisse and Luke in the creek, their weapons aimed at the hound that looked as tough she was going to attack.

“Stop! Oh my gods stop!” You screamed running in-front of her causing clarisse to dodge to the side and roll fully into the creek.

“Move!” She shouted. The other campers looking equally confused as you shouted a no back at her. “Are You insane?! Don’t go near it” clarisse scrambled out the water to quickly grab your arm.

You turned around trying to pull free only to be unsuccessful. The tension around you made you want to cry but right now isn’t the time. “I need you to trust me… please” you practically begged.

She looked you up and down with a look of worry before gently letting you go. Without another thought you knelt down to the dog, ripping your shirt in half exposing your stomach and began wrapping the hounds broken hind.

The dog was huge, given that she was a monster she was bigger than even a Doberman and beefier than a pit but that didn’t mean she was aggressive.

A few of the other councilors walked down to the water with Chiron standing on a rock near by. “She’s harmless!” You shouted trying to get the defensive campers to become calm. “See! If she wanted to hurt anyone she would of!”

Your urgency only convinced maybe a handful of kids. “It’s a monster.” Clarisse scoffed.

“Yet she didn’t try to bite me when I put her leg into a splint” You corrected. The hound nudged her head into your leg in a comforting way, trying to get your hand to begin to pet her.

Annabeth took a step forward, extending a hand the hound sniffed her before licking up her arm. “Seems harmless to me” the wise girl shrugged.

Chiron made his way down looking across the water and holding a hand up signaling for every camper to relax. “This game is dismissed. Grover summon the Cloven council, get them to set up a meeting so we can figure out what to do for the hound, and for you.. keep her with you until we have a plan”

———

The following week camp halfblood had a new pet. A hellhound you named Rosie.

Sitting with clarisse by the lake letting the water run over your legs from the docs. I’m the distance you saw Rosie swimming around enjoying playing with the water naiads.

“How did you know she wasn’t ruthless” clarisse asked turning her head to look at you.

“I guess the same way I knew you weren’t as mean as everyone assumes. It’s your aura, Rosie’s was soft and hurt begging for any form of kindness” you turned looking at her. The sun light casted across clarisses features illuminating her eyes and skin. “Your so beautiful” you smiled leaning over and softly kissing her

Clarisse smiled wide returning the kiss. She pulled away only keeping her hand on the side of your face. “What did I do to deserve someone like you”

You shrugged your shoulders happily. “Working out helped”

She pulled away with a playful attitude. Causing you to laugh and reach out to her once more.

[anomaly-hivemind]

Tangled Up ☆ Naga x Reader | Kinktober Day 25

Summary:  You just wanted to camp out and explore the jungle, but apparently, something wanted to explore you as well.

Word Count: 2098

Tags: fem reader, double penetration, monster, naga,  cunnilingus, slight perversion, reader depravity, tongue fucking, face fucking, face sitting, sixty-nining, power bottom reader, bondage (in a way), creampie, vaginal and anal penetration

 I was going on a camping trip, it was going to be just me, myself, and the great outdoors all alone with nothing but trees and wildlife. My biggest dream is to find some once-in-a-lifetime thing. But for now, I just wanted to have a peaceful outing without city distractions. I had a book bag or two full of everything I could have possibly needed for half a week in the forest. 

I was hiking up the mountain, seething in personal regret that led me to be out there as if it wasn't by free will.  Maybe I should have worked out a couple of weeks in advance of this trip; maybe then I wouldn't have felt like death was wrapping its bony fingers around my legs.  Everything hurts, I would turn around if I wasn't already so far in; it would be too much work.  The better plan is to walk towards the nearest clearing and camp there for half a week. Thankfully, it wasn't that far off when I found a clearing.  It was a nice mossy ground with a bunch of trees surrounding it; I couldn't have gotten luckier. 

It takes about an hour to set up everything, and now I feel like I learned a little nap. 

…………………………………………………………………

I woke up to shuffling noises outside my tent… was it some kind of wild creature like a leopard? Or maybe it was another person? Regardless, you grabbed your machete, carefully unzipped your tent, and peered outside. Your eyes widened at what you saw. It was a naga, like straight out of fantasy novels or a movie. 

He was big, around fifteen feet from what you could see, with small, rounded black scales covering his tail and some scales scattered here and there blended nicely with his dark gray skin. There were some on his hands that reached up to his upper wrists, back, and shoulders that seemed like they might be useful for defense, but then there were others on his collarbone, cheeks, and under his eyes, that seemed… to enhance appearance. Perhaps it was a part of attracting a mate? Of course, you didn’t know for sure; after all, you weren’t a naga, and this was a whole new species! It was exactly what you were hoping for.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at my Dutch oven over the put-out campfire curiously, which allowed me to see his scaled and pointed ears, which were previously hidden behind his medium-length honey-colored hair.

He shifts around the area of your campsite. Messing and looking at all the stuff that you left out. His jaw unhinged as he began lowering one of your overnight cameras into his mouth.

“Wait a minute, that's not food!” You said abandoning the safety of your tent and jumping out to stop him. His slitted pupils shifted over to you. Suddenly you were feeling a lot more nervous than before, You clutched your machete tighter, ready for anything to happen. Snakes only attack when feeling threatened or when hunting, based on the fact that he was about to eat your camera you guessed that he was a bit hungry, hopefully not for you. 

“A human?” He said slithering towards you. He circled around you, inspecting you curiously and you turned with him. Rule number one of dealing with creatures in the wild is to never turn or back to them. However you didn’t notice that he now had you trapped in the circle of his tail. 

“You’ve encountered humans before?” You asked for a hint of excitement in your voice and maybe a bit of fear.

“One. tried to kill me. I kill him. Then eat, not good.” He spoke, and his words caused A bit of shock in you, but you guessed it was in his nature. 

You can only hope that his disinterested taste in humans would mean that you were safe on being a meal for the large snake beast.  His bright eyes stare into what feels like your soul as he closes the circle, and his tail surrounds him. At the same speed, it takes you to blink, you are stuck in the grip of a large constrictor. You let out a groan as you try to pull away. 

“Please don’t kill me!” you whined as you looked up at the naga in hopes that you could see into what he was thinking.

“I will not kill you,”

“So, can you let go of me?” 

“No,”

“So you're not going to eat me, you’re not going to kill me… are you just curious?”

“Cu..ri..ous?”

“It means you want to know or learn about something.”

“Yes. I am curious,”

“Oh, that works out fine. I’m curious about you, too, so let's learn about each other.”

Over the next two days, you learned all about Naga and, like to say, you taught him about humans, You also learned his name, which was Ornanger. What you had been really dying to know, though, was what that naga-peen looked like. You had drawn diagrams of all his body except for his dick. And you had to know what it looked like, in the name of science of course. Oh, who were you kidding, Ornanger was too sexy for you not to hit that.

“Hey, Ornanger, I'm just gonna get right to the point I’d like to see your penis.”

“Penis?” He gives you a head tilt.

“Your reproductive organ?” 

He looks down at his slit as he moves to get the so-called penis you desire to see. You watch him as he pushes his fingers into himself; he lets out a sigh. He moves slowly and gently as it is assumingly an It was certainly a sight to see, but when not one but two cocks pushed out of the slit.

The tips were a healthy shade of purple, like a grape or a plum. They had a sweet shine to them, but the purple faded out to his regular gray skin tone. The tips were slightly pointed and a bit slanted, while the shafts themselves were long and kind of slender.

You bite your lip at the sight of the two monster rods.  You want it, want to get closer to it, and potentially even get a taste of it if you can.

“Can I feel it?”

They give a few strokes; you use both your hands to give them some needed attention in your hands; their smooth texture feels new to your senses. The precum spread over his shafts so easily. Oranajer let out a hiss as your hands slid down his cocks.

“What about you? Show me yours. Is it so different?” You were surprised by his request but you weren’t gonna argue and quickly discarded your pants and underwear. 

Ornanger looked at your front in confusion before looking and sliding between your legs for what you supposed was a better view.  He pulls you closer, giving your cunt a few sniffs, aka flicking his tongue. Testing out the new territory causes you to shiver a bit as you feel the air moving about you in such an area. 

He moved closer to it until his tongue flicked up your folds. You let out a sigh at the feeling and wiggle back into his face. Pressing yourself against him,  which he doesn't seem to mind. 

He whimpers softly into your dripping folds, not quite sure what to do next. He tries to move his tongue around experimentally, tasting you for the first time. It tastes sweet and salty, so different from anything else he's ever tried before.

He switches from being face deep in your pussy to licking up your juices. To push his tongue deep into your entrance and thrust his tongue into you, causing hushed moans to escape your lips.

  He moans back into your wet slit, savoring the sound and sensation of your pleasure. He laps up your juices greedily, letting his tongue swirl around your clit. His free hand reaches between your legs, spreading them open even wider and giving him better access to your dripping sex. 

Your eyes were on the cocks, which were twitching your immediate attention. You lean down to grab them, feeling like you should pay him back with how good his mouth feels. You put one in your mouth and stroke the other. Your fingers squeezed and twisted one cock, traveling up and down the length, spreading precum all over as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on the other.

His precum didn’t exactly taste how you expected it to, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing. It was much more viscous in texture and had sort of a savory flavor.

You switched between the two cocks, swashing them in your mouth the best you could.  He started rocking into her face as he was eating you out. You caress his scales; that's your switch between his thrusting cocks. You feel like if you let him continue this interaction, you're gonna cum, and not have any energy to continue, and you want more. 

“Wait, wait, wait.”  You tap his scales, and he pulls away so that he can listen to what you are going to say. 

“I want to feel these inside of me.” 

Ornanger lets go of your legs, and you move to bend down.  Once you are in the right position, he grips your hips with one hand and starts to push his cock into you.  You let out a wince as you feel one going into your ass while the other is in your pussy. You do your best not to tense up so he can move more easily.

He watches you fidget and writhe against him as his thick cocks pressed against your tight holes. Ornanger wrapped his strong arms around your waist, holding you close to his muscular body. He began thrusting rhythmically, the tip of his tail coiling possessively around your legs to prevent any escape. With each thrust, your bodies collided, creating wet slapping sounds that echoed through the jungle.

He basically purrs contentedly as he feels himself sinking deeper into you, his slick cocks pushing past your entrances until they are buried deep inside you. He could feel your body tremble a little beneath him as he did so, and he couldn't help but enjoy the sight. It seemed like you were enjoying this as much as he was. He felt like he was filling you up so intently from being in both holes, feeling like they were pressed right against each other in different canals.

Ornanger slowly rocked into you; the slickness of his cocks sliding into you was such a strange feeling. They were touching you so deeply. Snaking in and out. You couldn’t help but whimper at the dual stimulation. There wasn’t a single place he wasn’t touching inside you. The stretch was magnificent. With every thrust, Ornanjer was pressing against your sweet spots, and then as he dragged his cocks out, they left you with such a feeling of euphoria just for the actions to repeat over and over again.

Your stomach was winding itself up in a tight coil. You wrapped your legs around Ornanjer’s waist, pulling him closer to your body. Compared to your hot ass body, his body had a nice low warmth to it. You could feel the sweat rolling down your body. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time ornanger had seen you sweat, so it didn’t interrupt your sexy time.

He pulls back, and you're pulling forward at the last second, causing him to shoot his monster load onto your backside and over your folds. He lets out a hiss, and you shiver a bit in the aftermath. 

“Must cum inside, mate,” He muttered, and you looked back to see he was still hard. Your eyes widened as you realized you triggered Ornanger’s need for procreation, with you being his target.  Guess the only way out of this is to satisfy him. You could feel yourself getting close. Your legs were tensing up, and your back was arching off the ground. 

“A-ah~ I’m gonna cum,” you cried out

Ornanjer groaned as he came inside you. Ropes of cum spurting into you. You moaned, feeling your holes were filled to the brim with that sweet, sticky fluid. At the same time, you also reached climax; your walls spasmed around Ornanjer, milking every last drop out of him.

“So, I don’t think I took in all the knowledge that I needed. Do you mind if we go again?”

[seireitonin]

Introducing my Creepypasta OC :3

She’s been on my mind for about 2 years! I just never talked about her bc I didn’t know where to start! Also I didn’t have anyone to draw her so I didn’t know how to properly introduce her! I was not about to use AI art😭 so I had to use an avatar app to give people an idea on how she looks! So it might be a bit inconsistent but I’ll explain it as best as I can! Anyway onto the fun yapping

Welcome to the Creepypasta Fabdom: Sebastia!!!!

Name: Sebastia

Age: 27

Race: Black

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Gender: female

Height: 5’6

Eye color: brown(normal form) red(monster form)

Hair color: black (although she does enjoy adding different colored highlights)

Hair length: 26 inches, straightened has emo hair fringe going to the left

Her arms and legs are permanently black but the black stops at her knees and elbows and fades into her normal dark brown skin color.

Wears her normal emo fashion, she wants to pretend to be normal as much as possible

She kept her piercings, snake bites with spikes, a septum ring with spikes instead of balls, small spiked nostril piercings on each nostril

What’s she like? How’d she get this way?

She has an extremely anxious personality and a distrust of men

A man she met and was head over heels for betrayed her and took her to a lab as a test subject

She was so in love with him, she ignored all the red flags that came with him

All she cared about was him, putting her own safety to the side to be with him

He manipulated her into being part of something called the “God project”

Where she was tested on to be “made in gods image”

Whatever her captors thought “god” looked like they tried to turn her into

The pseudo scientists made something call “miracle cells” because they thought they were doing “gods work”

She was injected with those daily, causing a painful transformation

An ex-ray of her body shows that’s the “miracle cells” formed a new life inside her body and is embedded in her

The cells built themselves up in her body, taking the form of multiple mouths, that burst out of her scalp when threatened, causing her to loose a lot of blood, causing it look leak down her face. Every single time.

It’s painful every time she needs to fight

The cells are now a sentient being in her that she’s stuck with. It talks to her and protects her.

But it will say and do anything to keep Sebastia/ itself safe. Even if it has to manipulate her or lie to her. So sometimes it’s hard for her to think for herself or clearly

The form where the being forces itself out of her scalp is dubbed her “miracle form”

It also makes her eyes turn red, and forces sharp teeth to grow out of her cheeks along with 2 extra mouths on each side of her face. The teeth in her mouth are also sharp and her tongue turns grey. All while bleeding heavily from the head

When Sebastia speaks in this form it’s like multiple voices speaking along side her own

Since the being is made of “miracle cells” she’s called the being inside her Miracle

Sebastia doesn’t know exactly what Miracle is she killed all her captors brutally before she could find answers

She didn’t want to be turned any farther

Miracle told her to do it so she wouldn’t find out what it really is. So no one knows what Miracle truly is or why it’s choosing to help Sebastia.

It’s it a demon? A recreation of one? A recreation of god? Who knows?

Sebastia has no idea what Miracle is supposed to look like she can only guess through the changes in her own physical appearance such as the teeth and eyes and the black tendril like mouths but other than that she has no idea

No one does

Sebastia was kept in that lab for 6 months

But she didn’t want to go back to her normal life

Not like this

So she roamed in the forest, surviving off the food in abandoned campsites and cabins and sleeping there too

She one day hopes to go back to her normal life but she’s not sure if she ever can

What the tests and “scientists” did to her causes her pain and torment every day, especially because she had no one but Miracle itself to talk to and that’s a literal sentient piece of her trauma

Her autonomy is gone and she doesn’t fully recognize herself

So she clings to things she loved when she was normal

Such as emo fashion, video games, music, makeup etc

But it brings back memories of her friends, family and normal life so it’s painful for her

She has nightmares about being back in the lab

She hates herself for letting herself be manipulated by a man she loved and feels stupid for trusting him

Kinda blames herself for all of this

How does Sebastia fight?

Sebastia hates fighting and will only do it if she thinks it’s necessary. Mainly because she wants to be as normal as possible and because it’s a painful transformation to go through when the tendril like mouths burst out of her scalp

The “ tounges” of the mouths are pieces on her brain so it’s even harder for her to think clearly when her mind is literally being scrambled

When not fighting her brain is normal for the most part. Like all the pieces are in place

Miracle fights for/ with her by wrapping around people and squeezing them to death, biting/ eating people, holding people by their arms or legs so Sebastia can hurt them with any weapon she has on hand, slamming its tendrils into people sending them flying, hitting people multiple times by becoming smaller and sometimes just straight up throwing people

Miracle also defends her by blocking attacks and shielding Sebastia. It can���t be hurt by normal weapons but Sebastias body can.

So it blocks and defends her. Last resort it’ll retreat back inside her and act as a shield from inside of her so she can’t be pierced through completely. Only her skin.

If Sebastia is hurt, Miracle will heal her by using its mouths to keep the wound closed and heal over itself

Like weird stitches almost

But it’s really painful for Sebastia

Miracle can lift Sebastia high into the air by opening its mouths from her head putting its self to the ground and stretching upwards

Sebastia can move around like this too so sometimes she doesn’t even have to use her own legs

If she has a gun or a ranged weapon shell shoot at people from above

She loves guns especially if she customizes them to go with her outfits

But she also uses a scythe when shes melee fighting

The scythe comes apart to be a whip too(she’s had nothing but time to work on these things and she’s paranoid that people might be looking for her too)

There are no limits to how many mouths can come out of her head

When the mouths are out of her head her long black hair gets soaked with blood, so she constantly has to wash it and she hates it

The more control Sebastia gives Miracle, the more her appearance changes

If she gives more control her eyes go white to match Miracles instead of the normal red when she’s mostly in control

The mouths of Miracle can also grow and shrink depending on the situation example:

Another form she has is when she lets Miracle have complete control but that’s a last resort. She doesn’t fully know if she can come back from it

Her skin turns all black the she grows mouths on her physical body too, not just coming out of her head

She also can’t think for herself at all as miracle will just control her

So she refuses to go into that form even though it’s her strongest one

Relationships with the other Creepypastas?

Doesn’t trust men so she doesn’t like any of the men at first and won’t even let them touch her or be alone in a room with them

Sebastia is sweet and doesn’t want to hate anyone but she feels as if she has no choice and it’s the only way to keep herself safe

She’s also really jumpy and anxious

But when she’s calm around you she’s goofy and kind. It’s not her goal to be mean even if she feels like she has to come off that way

Toby- she really doesn’t like him at first and even tries to kill him (mainly because Miracle manipulated her into thinking he was trying to kill her when they first met) but after months and months she understands that not trying to hurt her even though Toby’s kinda mean. Sebastia learns that he loves his mother and sister and is kinder to women so she starts to trust him they even start hanging out one on one which is a huge step for her. Toby’s odd, rude and cruel humor mixes weirdly well with her goofiness since she likes to laugh. So Toby tries his best to make her laugh with stupid stuff. It inflates his ego. Maybe one day she’ll be able to give Toby a hug. (She’s in love with him but is still scared to be touched by men. Also embarrassed to like a man at all. Also the whole monster inside her thing makes it hard to have a relationship with anyone)

Eyeless Jack: they actually get along really well! You know with the whole “monster inside you and now your normal life is ruined and taken from you” Sebastia is always trying to find a way to be normal again and is always asking for EJs help since she relates to him. But it’s hard since she doesn’t want to be touched yet and he can’t really run tests on her or even do checkups. Sebastia hopes that soon she’ll let herself be touched so they can figure out if either of them can be semi normal again. He’s one of the few men Sebastia actually trusts. He has calm energy ironically.

Jane: Sebastia loves Jane. And I mean LOVES. She basically was head over heels for Jane the first time she saw her. Also the first point of physical skin on skin contact she’s had in months. Jane was one of the first people Sebastia clung to because she was so nice to her. (Also female) she’s in love with Jane but will never confess to that. They especially relate to each other because their lives were ruined/ changed because of a man. Jane came with her anytime she had to be around one of the guys so Sebastia wouldn’t be alone. Spent lots of time together. It feels so nice to have a friend she can relax completely around. And she doesn’t want to lose that so she keeps her feelings for Jane to herself.

Nina: Sebastia hates Nina a first. Like a lot. She found Nina’s weird obsession over Jeff ridiculous and degrading. Sebastia hated how Nina centered Jeff in her life. It’s mainly because Sebastia saw herself in Nina. And she was ashamed of it. After months of screaming and fighting with each other, Sebastia finally comes to terms with the fact she’s being a huge hypocrite and apologizes. Nina tells her why she is the way she is with Jeff and how he manipulated her and ruined her life like he did with Jane. She just can’t seem to get over him or give him up despite how bad she wants to. They end up becoming friends too. Especially over emo stuff. Feels so nice to have a friend to go to concerts with. Sebastia also has romantic feelings for Nina too. (Sebastia will fall in love and cling to almost anyone who’s nice to her, but women especially. It’s always been a huge problem for her)

Jeff: hates him. He ruined Jane and Nina’s lives. Thinks he’s egocentric and narcissistic and not in a charming way like Toby. She doesn’t actively try to fight him or antagonize him, but she tries to avoid him as much as possible. She tries to hide it as best as she can, but I’m sure Jeff knows and messes with her causing her to violently lash out at him.

Sally: loves her like she would a little sister and will protect her at all costs. Especially because Sebastia had wanted kids before her life went this way. Sally and her both don’t trust men, except for the ones they both know.

BEN: indifferent to him but nice. Mainly because she doesn’t exactly understand what Ben is? So she’s just nice to him and doesn’t ask many questions. Fun to play video games with and be a nerd with though, even though he kinda creeps her out. But he hasn’t done anything to her so why antagonize him? Especially because she literally doesn’t know what he is or how she’d fight him.

Laughing Jack: Tries to understand him. But is still unsettled by his presence. He’s loud and weird and really creepy in a way only LJ can be. But he does make her laugh, so there’s that. She will never ever want to be alone in a room with him, not because he’d do anything weird to her, but because he’s a lot to handle and again she’s unsettled by him, even though she wants to like him. Their relationship is weird. Sebastia hopes they can be better friends. But his happy energy feels so fake and disingenuous that it’s damn near impossible to trust him.

Jason the toymaker: hates him. Literally takes women and turns them into his personal toys. Could never like someone like that.

Candy Pop: hates him. Sees women as objects and once again, can’t really like someone like that. Maybe if she found out that candy pop was once in love with a woman and is possessed by a monster like she is she’ll come around. Big maybe though

Puppeteer: doesn’t like him. Mainly because of how he treats Erma.

Slenderman: She literally can’t even comprehend what he is? So she just takes Toby’s word for it that he keeps them safe as long as they do what he says.

Masky: doesn’t know him that well, but no ill will towards him. But she’s not gonna go out of her way to be friends with him so she’s just surface level nice to him. Also Sebastia hates the smell of cigarette smoke so she’d rather not be around him

Hoodie: they’ve never spoke. Only knows a bit about him from Toby. So she has no feelings towards him

Clockwork: she likes her. Not as close with her as she is with Nina and Jane but they’re cool. Feels awkward around clockwork because Sebastia has a crush on Toby but she knows they���re exs. Also Sebastia feels jealous and Miracle literally encourages her to be jealous. Sebastia is at least aware enough to recognize it’s ridiculous to be jealous. Sebastia also over thinks a lot: if her and Toby hypothetically got together would clockwork hate her? It makes her sick to think about because she doesn’t want to hurt Clockworks feelings. She shoves the jealousy away and is nice to Clockwork regardless. Especially because they both have bad history with men, they both respect each other and check on each other. Sebastia thinks Clockwork is so pretty.

Kate: Sebastia and Kate have a surface level friendship and get along just fine. She likes Kate’s mask a lot!

Bloody Painter: Sebastia thinks his art is cool. Since BP is quiet, they don’t talk much. But when they do, their conversations are short and sweet. But Sebastia knows he’s dangerous despite how quiet and soft spoken he is. But she respects how he’s not rude and keeps to himself.

Random facts about Sebastia

Loves sweet foods the most

Her favorite desserts are sugar cookies with frosting, really good chocolate chip cookies, vanilla cake and ice cream

Her favorite food is sushi. A close second is seafood boils. She likes to eat messy with her hands sometimes. Third would be bira ramen

Her favorite color is dark blue, especially if it’s along side a dark purple, so you’ll see those colors in her outfits and hair. Opposite to that she likes red and hot pink. But she wears a lot of black along side all those colors

She’s scared of the dark and spiders(despite her kinda looking like one sometimes with all those mouths going everywhere when they’re holding her up on something)

Her arms and legs are permanently black no matter what form she’s in but she covers them with wrapping bandages or accessories.

They fade into her normal skin tone at the elbows and knees but she thinks it looks kinda cool

Sometimes will leave her fingers exposed especially if she paints her nails

Wants to go back to her normal life after she gets everything under control, but if she can’t she enjoys being here with everyone so that’s a good thing

Another branch of scientists are after her but she’s hidden pretty well and can fight them if necessary

Sometimes wonders what Miracle is supposed to actually look like, she can’t comprehend it if she tried

She’s happy she can somewhat blend in with humans with her normal looking form. She enjoys still being able to do the things she liked before

Wanted a family and kids before this all happened but Sally is good practice, even though Sally is technically older than her and more mature than your average child

Has to carry around sweets with her so in case she fights and looses blood, she doesn’t loose consciousness

It’s kinda funny to see her fighting then have to whip out a cupcake and eat it

Miracle can keep fighting even if Sebastia is unconscious, it’s kinda creepy to see a limp body have mouths coming out of it and fighting especially with the blood everywhere

Sebastia loves to eat, especially because she couldn’t eat what she wanted in the lab

Loves sweet smelling perfumes

Her birthday is July 14th

Loves being warm so she loves summer

Miracles mouths and the ones that come out of Sebastias head look like this (minus the sword) and many mouths can come out of Sibastias head as needed at once

Sebastia doesn’t know if Miracle likes being called “Miracle” and she’s scared to ask (what if it wants to be called something weird?!)

Sebastia has snake bites, a septum and nostril piercings, all of them with spiked jewelry

She wants more and might let Nina do them!

That’s all I got for now!! Here’s a doodle someone made for me on discord! Thank you sm!!!

If you read all this, thank you!! I really appreciate it! I love Sebastia sm and I really wanted to talk about her :3 I’m honestly surprised it took this long and I hope you guys enjoy her too:3 this was my first time making a Creepypasta OC ironically. At least one where I thought out a whole story for them. Here’s a Sebiastia mood board to finish:3

[yoshhii]

tw: abuse/controlling themes .ᐟ

it felt like only yesterday when the two of you confessed. he had taken you to a park near a lake, where cherry blossom petals floated through the air, carried by the gentle breeze. the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm light over everything. you both stood beneath the blooming trees, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.

slowly he raised his right hand and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. you knew exactly what he wanted, and without hesitation, you closed your eyes, and leaned forward.

when your lips finally met, it felt like the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you. the kiss was soft and sweet, full of the unspoken feelings you had both been holding back for so long. as his lips left yours, you opened your eyes to find a gentle smile on his face.

this was the moment you had been waiting for, the one you had imagined countless times. after all the teasing, the lingering touches, and the stolen glances, you had finally shared your first kiss. his soft chuckle broke the silence, he opened his mouth and finally said the words he’d been holding back to speak.

“i love you, (y/n).”

you couldn’t help but smile as his cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping shyly to the ground. it was obvious he was embarrassed to say it, and that only made the moment sweeter.

with a warmth blooming in your chest, you opened your mouth, your voice calm and sweet.

“i love you too.”

but that was only a longing memory.

everything felt easy then, simple, carefree. his love was a bright, something that made you feel safe.

but over time, the warmth in his voice faded. it wasn’t noticeable at first—the way he would always ask where you were going, who you were with, what time you should be home. he framed it as concern, his eyes soft, his words still loving. you told yourself it was just because he cared. because who wouldn’t look out for the one you love, right?

only then did his “concern” grew sharper, his tone more insistent. he started waiting for you if you stayed out late, calling your phone multiple times, asking why you haven’t called as soon as you left your friends.

“ i don’t understand, they’re just my friends and i don’t hang out with them as much as i used too. they’ll help me out if i’m in danger, what’s the harm in that?” you tried argue.

his angry demeanor quickly turned into an unreadable one.

“i just worry about you, that’s all,” he said pulling you into his arms. but there was a tension in the way he held you, a possessiveness that made your stomach twist.

“i’m fine,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself.

you pressed your back against the cold brick wall of the alley, trying to steady your ragged breaths, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart, echoing in the narrow space like a drumbeat of panic.

you messed up…

you were done with him, done with his possessiveness, his suffocating control.

so you ran, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would let you go. but you knew better. he would never leave you alone. he had killed your friends to prove that point, tearing them from you because they dared to help. that monster took them because you had tried to escape.

the sounds of footsteps broke your train of thoughts.

no...

there was no way it could be him. you had ran for hours, weaving through streets, slipping into corners. how could he find you now?

“there’s no point in running dear…” his chilling voice cut through the silence.

your blood turned to ice. panic surged through your veins. you had to keep moving there was no one here to help you, no one to hear you scream. you had no one to rely on but yourself. with a desperate gasp, you turned and bolted further into the alley, darting around corners in a frantic attempt to lose him.

you were quick, but he was quicker.

suddenly a hand harshly yanked your hair, you let out a yelp and desperately clawed at his hands but his grip only got tighter. you could only scream and beg for him

to let you go. but that only seemed to amuse him.

with a swift motion he pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at him.

“shhhhh we wouldn’t want to bring any unwanted attention now do we?” his eyes were darker now, colder. the man you used to know seemed so far away.

“let’s get you back home, do you know how dangerous it is for you to be alone at this time of night?” he said it as if he was mocking you, daring you to try and run again.

he let go of your hair and took a few steps back, watching you with that same unreadable expression. your legs gave out beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground. you couldn't go back, locked up in his house, in his room, playing by his rules.

you slowly felt tears form in your eyes, threatening to fall against your cheek.

“why….” you started, voice barely above a whisper,

“why are you doing this…?”

a cruel smile spreaded across his lips, slowly walking back towards you.

“don’t you see (y/n) i do this to protect you away from the outside dangers, i do this so that you’re safe, and i do it because…”

he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “i love you,” his voice cold as ice, it sent a shiver down your spine not from affection, but from fear.

katsuki bakugo, dabi, tomura shigaraki, overhaul, shinshou, monoma, dio, kira yoshikage, pucci, funny valentine, diavolo/doppio, bruno bucciarati, abbacchio, joseph joestar, rohan, kaeya, diluc, childe, ayato, lyney, neuvillette, heizou + whoever you think fits !