#i would rather take me and my friends into the woods naked to find a bear

[bittsandpieces]

Spacious beach house with a gorgeous ocean view

You and as many friends as you want

Everyone is nude 24/7

Sound like a fun weekend?

So it's fine if I only bring my friends who are men over six feet tall right? You're fine with that?

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 (You're here) , PART 8

A little more of past trauma

Merlin, Arthur, Lancelot (who isn't a Knight yet) and some knights camping in the woods.

Knight 1: (hesitantly) Sire...

Knight 2: (careful) We need wood... for the fire, sire.

Arthur: (a little confused by their behavior) Pick some fallen branches then.

Knight 1: Ahm... (sweats)

Lancelot: (realising why they're so scared. Sighs) There's no fallen branches, isn’t there?

Knight 2: ... No.

Merlin: (thinking and looking at Arthur carefully) Oh, no...

Arthur: (hardens his features) search harder.

Knight 1: We searched the whole perimeter three times, sire. There are no branches, no even leafs.

Knight 2: These trees are practically naked. We need... We need to cut one down.

Arthur: No.

Merlin: Arthur...

Arthur: No. We don't need fire anyway.

Lancelot: (the only brave enough to contradict him apart from Merlin) Sire, we need to cook the meat and if we don't make fire we'll freeze to death.

Arthur looks conflicted. Merlin sighs. He appreciates what his prince is doing. He went as far to almost forbid all his knights to hunt and cut any plant, especially trees, ever again and he knows Arthur would have ban any of this practices all together in the entire kingdom if he weren't still a prince. Fortunatly, he talked him out of it, so now Arthur allows hunting only when strictly necessary. Cutting trees, however, was always out of the question. They managed to avoid it... until now.

Arthur: (pointing to a knight) Hey, you. Take off your shirt. We can use that.

Knight 1: What?! Sire, but-

Arthur: (very serious) Are you questioning me?

Merlin: Arthur (holds his hand and pulls him gently til they are apart from the rest). Arthur, it's okay.

Arthur: (almost shouting, firmly) No, Merlin! Not with this. No!

Merlin: (reassuring) It just hurts badly when they do it for fun or there's no need. Now we need it. It's fine.

Arthur: (shakes his head, anguish in his eyes) I can't make them hurt you.

Merlin: They wouldn't be really hurting me. Besides, would you rather let me die of hunger and freeze to death? (Puts a hand on his face and smiles) I'll be fine, I promise.

Arthur: (sighs) alright. (Goes to his Knights)

Lancelot: (aproaches Merlin, whispering) Can't you make some branches fall?

Merlin: (shakes his head) these branches aren't thick enough for a fireplace, and I need to get use to this. Arthur too.

Lancelot: (nods in understanding) He must love you a lot.

Merlin: (nervous) Wha-?! What do you mean?

Lancelot: Don't tell me you didn't notice. He was willing let us starve and freeze so you wouldn't feel any pain just a minute ago.

Merlin: He cares for me. I'm his friend.

Lancelot: I'm his friend too and he never looked at me the way he does to you, like you are the sun. Or use any excuse to touch me, like he might die if he doesn't have you close for more than 5 minutes.(pause) And I don't believe you're not aware of this either.

Merlin: (sighs) I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm happy with how things are. I don't want to ruin things between us. (Thinking) Not again.

Lancelot: (smiles encouringly) You don't have to confess your feelings or anything. Just try to make a move to taste the waters and you can decide what to do from there.

Arthur orders his knights to cut down the farrest tree they could find. It's useless though. No matter how far, Merlin still can feel it. Merlin doesn't scream in pain this time, but he still trembles and flinches. Arthur hugs him close through all this and somehow he ends up sitting on Arthur's lap, and hiding his face in the crook of Arthur's neck. He whimpers and whimpers in pain until he falls asleep in Arthur's arms.

Lancelot: (aproaching them) You should wake him before they come back.

Arthur: (shakes his head) He needs this.

Lancelot: If they see you like this they'll think-

Arthur: (sharply) They can think what they want.

Lancelot: (smiles softly) You don't really believe this is some medical disease, do you?

Arthur: ...

Lancelot: You know about Merlin.

Arthur: (sighs) And he told you. (thinking, a mix of angry, hurt and jealous) He told you before telling me.

Lancelot: No, but I catched him. He echanted the weapon I used to kill the griffin.

Arthur: (snorts) This idiot.

Lancelot: He was careful I'm just observant. Why haven't you told him that you know?

Arthur: I want him to tell me himself.

Lancelot: Why?

Arthur: He deserves that much. And I want to prove that he can trust me.

Lancelot: I don't think it's a matter of trust. He trusts you a lot, Arthur. I know he really wants to tell you but he just doesn't know how to. I mean, can you blame him? He's been told all his life he should hide who he is. I don't think he ever willingly told anyone. (sighs) Even outside Camelot, there's hardly a place where magic users are safe.

Arthur: (with conviction) When I'm king there will be. Camelot will welcome magic again and he won't have to hide anymore. (looking at Merlin sleeping peacefully in his arms, thinking) And this time he will be able to live it and enjoy it.

Lancelot: (to himself) I knew it was a sign.

Arthur: (confused) What?

Lancelot: I never told you why I came to the citadel.

Arthur: You wanted to become a Knight. (thinking) Though you arrived earlier than I expected.

Lancelot: That too, but I also had a dream.

Arthur: A dream?

Lancelot: I saw myself in a knight armor. There was some sort of hole or crack in the air, I don't know, everything's kind of blurry. But I do remmember clearly two faces. Faces I never saw before in my life, but in my dream they were familiar. It wasn't until I came here that I recognised them. They were yours and Merlin's. You were in my dream.

Arthur: (in shock, but composes himself quickly)... I see. And you believe that's a sign. A sign of what exactly?

Lancelot: That one day you will be the king I'll serve with honor.

Arthur: Right... Did you have another memo-I mean dream about us?

Lancelot: (shakes his head) That's all. (looks at the sky) It's getting late. I'll go look for the knights, they may need help. (thinking) And you can have some time alone.

Arthur: (stops Lancelot before he leaves) Lancelot. You said me appearing in your dream mean I'll be the king you'll serve one day. What about Merlin? What does he appearing in your dream means to you?

Lancelot: I thought it was obvious.

Arthur: What?

Lancelot: Well, every king needs a queen sire. (laughs a little and leaves before Arthur can process his words)

...

Tagging @everything-is-applepie , @iwillalwaysbearealfan , @merlinsbeard2 , @procrastinating-angels , @thecornerofbelu , @an-entity-i-think , @smileytrinity , @the-night-viewer , @tansyuduri , @fuckyeahsnackables , @stalesaltinecracker , @lucifertookmyshoe , @aceauthorcatqueen and @virgil-wannabe since you all left beautiful comments in the other parts. Thank you so much! 🤧. Please if you have any idea for this AU or want to see a moment in particular between these two or other characters, just ask. I'm just writing random moments that come to my mind 😅

[hopelessromantic5]

Last one for the night.

Sorry for the content dump. 🫶

Regency AU clip. Arthur and Merlin inspired by Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma.

Arthur’s father, The Viscount, decided he had let Arthur ‘pursue fanciful whims’ long enough.

He wanted Arthur to find a wife this season.

Oh, joy.

It was for this reason, Arthur went for an early morning ride, to let out his overwhelming frustration and to get out of that blasted house with his siblings, more specifically, his elder sister and her eyes full of pity.

Morgana knew that Arthur wanted to hold out for love, the kind of love their own parents shared. Arthur felt it his duty to find someone who would one day become Viscountess, have his children and help him continue his family’s long-standing reputation.

The only problem, which isn’t really a problem, more of an inconvenience, was that Arthur didn’t like women, in the slightest. Romantically speaking, that is.

He found this out the hard way when his college mates tried to throw him into a room full of naked women.

Arthur was…curious. But nothing beyond that, women were a complete mystery to him so he was really just in awe of their natural bodies and how objectively beautiful they were.

But it did nothing. No part of him stirred or got excited. That’s when he started to become uncomfortable, because he’d always known, deep down, in a place no one ever sees.

He left rather quickly.

Thankfully, his friends had disappeared by then.

The ride led him farther into the woods than he usually went, but he knew his way around them.

He slowed his horse to a trot as he went lost in his thoughts.

That was quickly interrupted when he heard galloping approaching. Very fast.

Before he could think twice, the horse and the person riding it, raced just past Arthur, causing his own mare to stumble a bit.

Well, I’ve got to see what this is about.

That was the only thought to cross his mind before turning the other direction, taking off as fast as he could.

He spotted the horse and rider immediately. Arthur rode harder and urged the animal below him to follow.

He had almost caught up, when a branch that seemed to come from nowhere caught Arthur’s jacket and caused him to pull back on the reigns, involuntarily.

He slowed to a stop, laughing hysterically.

That was fun.

“You’re laughing a lot for someone who lost.” The voice was deep.

Arthur hadn’t realized the horse in front of him also slowed and stopped, unwilling to turn the opposite direction and face him.

Arthur took the stranger in, finally. All he could see was a blue cloak with the hood pulled up, hiding all identity.

The skilled hands gripping the reigns wore gloves.

“To be fair, we never agreed on a stopping point and that limb was interference, divinely guided as it may have been.”

“Oh, divinely guided, was it?” The man snickered, but it was closer to a giggle.

Arthur couldn’t read the stranger very well when he could not see him.

He took matters into his own hands and rode past the other man, then spun to see the horse-whisperer directly, face to face.

“Oh.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

But it was not to have his breath stolen.

He could not even see all of the man’s face, but what peaked out from under the hood was pale flawless skin and perfect pink lips.

Hooded eyes pointed to the ground between their two steeds.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who won.” Arthur quipped.

The man finally raised him eyes in a glare that didn’t hold much heat behind it.

God, those eyes.

Blue like the ice that forms from dripping water on the window sills. The lightest clearest parts of the ocean. Pure and endless.

Wow.

Arthur had never been struck by a person’s beauty before.

“You’re a complete stranger, what if you have ill intentions, or try to rob me blind?”

Arthur threw his head back in a laugh at this.

“You aren’t that inattentive. My intentions are pure, you have my word. I am a gentleman.” Arthur smirked at the blue eyed wonder. He got a small smile in return.

“Well, I have to be getting back.”

No.

Arthur’s whole body practically howled the word. He’s not unable to control himself.

“Will I see you again?”

The man was already turning around to return from the way they came.

“Perhaps you will, my lord.”

Arthur sputters.

“How did you know I was-“

“I’m not that inattentive.” The man called over his shoulder before tapping the side of his boot on the horses flank and taking off into the trees.

Well, that was truly something.

[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[nctsplug02]

just thinking about.. ceo!johnny makes bounce his secretary on his cock while she is trying to checking mails😵‍💫 (and secretary is reader please😊😊😇🙏🙏😊)

[3:56PM]

GENRE: smut | fluff | FWB |

WARNINGS: cockwarming, unprotected sex, friends with benefits, praising, oral sex (M receiving), and kissing.

your hips rocking back with the help of the CEOs strong hand on your hips, guiding your hips back and forth along his lap.

a cry breaks out from you as his tip nestles against your g-spot. “something wrong, baby?” you shake your head that was dropped down with your chin to your chest.

“n—no sir.” you answer breathlessly.

“carry on, then.” the man rolls your hips in circles. shifting them from right to left.

the man halts and sits up. “ah, ah.” you pause, taking your hand off the mouse. “my love— what is this?” he taps the screen and it opens the email.

“m—mr s—suh, im sorry! i didn’t see it.” the man chuckles and sighs. “what did i say about the formalities, love?” you drop your head and squeeze your fingers into a fist. “i—im sorry, johnny.”

“carry on, my love.” johnny presses a kiss on your shoulder and grabs your hips, again. you moan and bite your lip when he lifts you off up and pounds you down.

RING RING! RING RING!

johnny looks at the ID and sighs. “it’s mark. stay quiet for me or our friend’ll find out about our little secret.”

“wha— mr suh—?!” he covers your mouth and answers the call.

“hello.” the voice on the other side mumbles and mumbles. “mm, possibly. i’m not really in the mood for it but.. hey, a few drinks’ll get me in.” he softly laughs as he massages your hips and rolls them in the most fragile way.

“just a moment, mark.” he pulls the phone away from his ear and mutes himself. “baby, would you like to eat korean barbecue after work?” you look back at him and he hums. “s—sure.” you answer breathlessly.

he grins and pats your naked hips. “mark,” he calls out when unmuting himself.

no response.

the man looks at his screen to see it black. “oookay.” he sets the phone down and grabs onto your hips once again.

“j—johnny.” you whine when his fingers find your clit.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

you gasp.

“j—johnny!” you freeze. “under.” you slip under the man’s desk when he scoots back, giving you room. “put that pretty mouth to use.” he says with a smirk.

you can’t help but giggle with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. you grab his cock and you take him between your lips. your tongue swirling around his pink tip.

he clears his throat. “come in.” the door opens and a man with wicked hair walks in. “yo, where’s your secretary?” he points behind him as he walks in and shuts the door behind him.

“she.. stepped out for a moment.” johnny grabs a pencil and squeezes it— the wood nearly snaps. “sorry, i thought coming up here was better rather then just calling and asking through the phone— i hope you weren’t and aren’t busy.”

johnny shakes his head. “have a seat, mark.” the boy sits in the seat across from johnny.

“so, i was just saying— jaehyun, taeyong, chenle, yangyang and i wanted to eat korean barbecue after work and we wanted to know if you’re in.”

johnny reaches down and pushes your head. you gag around him and johnny grins. “you good?” johnny shakes his head and clears his throat. “i’m fine but, uh.. sure. also, can i bring someone? i’ve been kind of seeing them for a while and i think i should introduce them to you guys.”

johnny looks down to see your watery puppy eyes.

you hope he was talking about you.

he smiles and pats your head, wiping your tears after. “that’s fine,” johnny snaps his head up. “we’re all planning on bringing someone too— well, only jaehyun and yangyang— me and taeyong will just see who we meet.”

THUNKTHUNK!

mark looks confused and your eyes are widened.

“yo, dude. you’ve got something hard under your desk.” mark looks under— thank goodness there was a border that blocked the ankles and above.

johnny looks down at you and your eyes pleaded to him. “mark,” johnny looks up and so does mark. “stop kicking my shoes. i just got them for christmas from mama suh.” mark apologizes.

RING RING!

mark jumps up and pats around him. “hold on a moment, im gonna step out and take this call.” johnny nods and sends the man off.

as soon as the door clicks shut, johnny has you choking on his dick. gagging and crying as he pushes your head down.

he shoots his load down your throat within minutes and pulls you off. “look at you— so pretty and fucked.” johnny cups and kisses you while you gather your breath.

“can you stand up for me?” johnny asks and you nod. he helps you off the ground and pulls your pantie up and your the skirts of your dress down. he rubs under your eyes and wipes away the mascara stain.

johnny pushes his chair back and stands up— tucking his junk away and fixing himself.

mark walks in in time— johnny has finished buckling his belt. “oh.” he says, frozen by the door with a head tilt.

“mark,” johnny rests his hand above your ass and smiles. “this is the women i wanted you and the others to meet at dinner.” mark walks closer and squints harder.

“your secretary?” he squeaks. you open your mouth to say something but you close it with a pout on your lips. “yes, she is my secretary.” johnny hugs your waist.

“hi, i’m.. y/n.” you hold your hand out and mark hesitantly takes it. “mark..” he shakes your hand and grins. “uh.. you.. um.” he circles his mouth and you turn to johnny.

“oh.” johnnys eyes widen and his hands fly up to your face. he licks his thumb and wipes the corner of your lip. “oh, my!” you gasp and begin to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“i’m sorry.” you apologize to mark. “nah, don’t worry. um, but i’ve gotta go.” johnny doesn’t take his eyes off you as he bids his friend a goodbye.

“that wasn’t how i wanted your friends to meet me— thank goodness it was only one friend. i would’ve traumatized them and myself.” you laugh and johnny kisses you.

“shall we leave early and spend the rest of the day to ourselves?” you nod at the suggestion. “i’d love that.” he pats yours ass and presses one more kiss on your lips. “then so be it— cmon.” he grabs his jacket and necessities while guiding you out of his office.

let’s just say— you and johnny didn’t make it to dinner.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Caustic: An Origin Story

Caustic/Alexander Nox x Original Female Character

Rating: 18+

Chapter 4

We walked mostly in silence through the almost empty streets, it was comfortable aside from the chill in the air. My ribs and hip still ached and I knew it was slowing me down marginally, but Nox didn’t say anything at all.

    As it turned out, he lived fairly well, in the quieter part of town (that usually meant the wealthier). I rolled my eyes and he chuckled after introducing me as his friend to the guard outside the apartment building. He gestured for me to enter the lift first, it was almost the size of my bedroom.

    ‘I could sleep in this.’ I commented.

    ‘I’d rather you didn’t, I believe my apartment would be more comfortable.’ Where was the cheek earlier in the evening?

    ‘So, are we heading to the penthouse then? Or just the top floor?’ I decided to mock him, an attempt to ease the tension.

    ‘I’m afraid not,’ he chuckled, tension eased. ‘I live on the twenty-second floor, several below the penthouse which is owned by the director of the Apex Games.’

    ‘Oh, only twenty-two, huh? Not such a big shot then.’ I teased.

    ‘I assure you, I could easily have chosen a higher floor.’

    ‘Well, thank goodness you’re humble.’

    We laughed until the lift came to a stop on the twenty-second floor. Nox led me out to see a well decorated hallway with only two doors. I could just about see the view through the small window from the centre of the hallway, all that was visible were the glittering lights of downtown.

    ‘There’s a better view inside.’ Nox said, noting my distraction.

    I followed him into the spacious and glassy living area, the floor was a dark wood with white rugs scattered everywhere. The grey fabric corner sofa seemed to sit in the middle of the floor facing a large television which was still playing reruns of Nox’s last game, the highlights were minimal, but he must have found them useful. I could just about see the open plan kitchen where a protein shake was sitting waiting to be drunk, maybe he wasn’t in the middle of a workout when I arrived.

    In any case, what I had seen of his apartment was incredibly impressive.

    ‘Can I take your silence as approval?’ Nox suddenly said, watching me. I realised my mouth was slightly open and I wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction.

    ‘No.’ I said defiantly, folding my arms. Nox laughed, knowing I didn’t mean it and I was just being stubborn.

    ‘Perhaps if you take my offer of a shower, it might change your mind?’

    ‘I swear, if you’ve got a bathtub that I can swim in, I’m going to ask for a pay rise as a matter of principal.’

    ‘Maybe not swim…’ he said and led me towards the bathroom which  again was hugely spacious with grey marble surfaces, mirrors everywhere and a tub the size of a double bed in the centre of the room. The shower itself was half the size, but easy to walk into and possibly get lost. ‘Impressed?’ Nox asked again.

    ‘Okay, so let’s talk about my raise.’ I chuckled, making him do the same. ‘I cannot believe people really live like this.’

    ‘It’s an acquired taste, I’ve found.’

    ‘I’m sure I can acquire your tastes, Dr Nox.’

    ‘I would prefer you call me Alexander in my own home, or Alex would be satisfactory.’ He was frowning. ‘I don’t like bringing my work home with me… it’s the only rule I have.’

    ‘Fair enough.’ I really couldn’t argue, this was his home so I may as well have gotten used to using his first name. ‘So, are you just going to watch me get naked? Or do I get some privacy?’

    ‘As tempting as it is, I feel there is a right and wrong answer.’ I could see the faint blush once again creeping over his cheeks. ‘I will leave you in peace. You’ll find everything you need in here.’ He gently placed my duffel bag down and left me to shower.

    I wasn’t exactly sure where to start, I was desperate to get clean, but it took a while to work out how the various dials and knobs worked, one was for hot, another for cold, another for power, but another seemed to change the angle the water came out at and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would need so many variables.

    The shower was to die for, it was just the right temperature, it hit my skin in the right way and it just felt so wonderful. I never wanted to leave, but I would eventually have to come out and re-join the world.

    I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I decided to explore the bathroom a little and through some uncharacteristic action, I opened up what looked like a medicine cupboard and saw the usual, toothpaste, brush and suspiciously unused looking shaving tools. There was also a blank, white pill bottle with the letters ‘APHR’ in black capitals on it. I didn’t dare pick it up, or open it, but I was curious about what was in it and why it looked untouched with a very thin layer of dust over the cap.

    I closed the cupboard and changed into a fresh white t-shirt and loose black joggers, tying my long, blonde hair up into a loose bun. I wandered out of the bathroom, closing the door, only to turn into the bare chest of Dr Nox, I immediately felt my face inflate red.

    ‘Sorry.’ I said, not really sure of why.

    ‘That’s quite alright,’ he said, I noticed he was carrying his black t-shirt in his hands. ‘Did you enjoy your shower?’ It was only then that I noticed the shape he was in, it was phenomenal, my boss was a specimen. His hips were narrow, stomach bulging with muscle, broad chest with a thin patch of hair layered over it, shoulders that curved into his excessively large arms and suddenly my throat was dry.

    ‘It was obscene.’ I rolled my eyes, once again folding my arms and trying my best to seem like my normal self. ‘Kind of like your… chest.’

    ‘My chest?’ He frowned, smiling somewhat.

    ‘You’ve got too many muscles, what the hell do you need them for?’

    ‘Structure, mostly.’ Nox looked down at himself, sorting his t-shirt before putting it on. ‘Is that better?’

    ‘I mean, I didn’t say put it on.’ I winked and made him laugh loudly once again.

    ‘I’m afraid this is an equal rights home, you may not want me to take my shirt off again.’ Damn, this man had banter. I just shook my head and laughed with him as he gestured for me to head back into the kitchen where he had cleared most of the surfaces. ‘Can I interest you in some tea?’

    ‘Sure, if you’re making some.’ I smiled and hopped up onto one of the stools while he went about making us both some tea. His shirt was especially tight and even his back muscles could be seen through it. Once again, I felt myself swallowing and trying to look anywhere that wasn’t at Dr Nox. ‘I still can’t believe you know how to take orders and make tea.’

    He chuckled and turned to face me, leaning on the counter. ‘I am man of considerable talent.’

    ‘And once again, you demonstrate that you are also incredibly humble.’ I smiled, teasing him, but suddenly my mind was cast back to the bottle in his medicine cupboard.

    He watched me curiously. ‘Something wrong?’

    ‘No, I’m just thinking.’ It wasn’t dishonest and he could see that, but he wasn’t exactly convinced.

    ‘May I ask what about?’

    ‘You can ask.’

    ‘Will you tell me?’ Nox leaned on his forearms and watched me more intently than before.

    I actually debated asking him about the bottle, but chickened out last minute. ‘Why are you so buff?’ I pretended to be curious to make him laugh, but it only half worked.

    ‘I participate in the Apex Games on occasion, I enjoy the sport and in order to have a real chance at victory, I need to ensure my body is in prime condition.’

    ‘The sport of shooting other people and pretending to be someone you’re not?’

    ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

    ‘What’s the other way?’

    Nox stood up and turned to finish making the tea. He placed the black, matte mug in front of me and wandered around to sit opposite me, his whole frame dwarfing mine, not that I was particular big anyway. ‘The other way,’ he started, resting one foot on the floor, the other on the foot rung while he ran his hand over his thick, dark beard. ‘Is to understand that in the Games you can’t die, not really. To come so close to death and feel the exhilaration of holding another life in your hands is an adrenaline rush, one I like to enjoy within the safety of the Games.’

    I thought on his words for a moment. He was an adrenaline junkie, everyone who participated in the Games was one of sorts, but Nox actually enjoyed the concept of death vs life to a degree I’d never thought about before. Life was precious to me. Death was fascinating to him.

    ‘You seem disappointed.’ Nox said, breaking my thoughts.

    ‘I don’t know if disappointed is the right word.’ I said, honestly. ‘Surprised maybe… I think I just never thought about it before and if I did, that wasn’t the answer I thought you’d give.’

    ‘What did you think I would say?’

    ‘I’m honestly not sure.’ I shook my head.

    ‘I don’t undervalue life,’ his pale eyes bore into mine. ‘Please do not think that I don’t value the life that I have or the lives around me. The question of death has fascinated many people for years, this is just my expression of it.’

    Well, that made sense I supposed. It wasn’t so much that he enjoyed people dying, more the question of how, the process, the mental, the physical, the spiritual even. He wondered why and what happened after you died. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I initially thought.

    ‘That wasn’t the question on your mind.’ Nox could see I was no longer showing the same expression and smiled at me gently. ‘Is there something else you wish to know?’

    I thought about it for a moment and decided to just tell him the truth, he never cared that I went through his stuff at work, but I figured that was mostly because I wouldn’t understand any of it, this was a bit different.

    ‘What does APHR stand for?’ I leaned on my hand observed him as his face suddenly emptied of all colour, had I gone too far?

  Nox cleared his throat and suddenly the colour came rushing back to his cheeks as he half laughed. ‘It doesn’t stand for anything,’ he sipped his tea. ‘It’s just a shortened version of the word.’

    ‘What word?’ I frowned, suddenly realising I may have gone too far.

    ‘Aphrodisiac.’ He grinned, his face still blushing furiously.

    I felt my jaw drop for a number of reasons. ‘You actually have an aphrodisiac? Wait, why do you have that sitting in a bottle in your bathroom? Have you ever used it on anyone? You haven’t secretly used it on me, have you? Did you make it yourself?’

    Nox laughed and looked at the floor for a moment, fiddling with his hands. ‘Yes. Because where else would I keep it? Yes, a few times. I would never without permission. And yes, I did.’

    ‘Does it actually work?’

    ‘Yes.’ Nox was still grinning and blushing, but he wasn’t refusing to answer any questions.

    ‘How well?’ I narrowed my eyes at him.

    ‘It needed some modification in the beginning,’ he explained. ‘But eventually I found a good balance.’

    ‘What does that mean?’

    ‘The early stages proved to be… somewhat painful.’ I could see him praying for me to understand. ‘The subject would reach a state of arousal for a much longer period of time and at a much higher intensity than desired.’

    ‘Ah, I get it.’ I nodded and sipped the surprisingly good tea.

    ‘Eventually, I was able to bring the effects down enough to last only a few hours at a moderate intensity.’

    ‘A few hours?!’ I exclaimed. ‘Jeez, who are you shagging for hours on end, a bloody robot?!’

    ‘She was a little difficult at times, yes.’ I could see there was something painful sitting in his chest as Nox took another mouthful of tea.

    ‘I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t be asking all these questions.’

    ‘No, it’s fine. It’s nice to see you smiling and excited about something that I can take an interest in as well.’ Nox’s gaze flickered over my face as he continued to smile at me. ‘May I ask what led you to looking inside my medicine cabinet?’

    It was my turn to flush. ‘I got curious.’ I half shrugged, taking a gulp of tea in an attempt to hide my reddening cheeks.

    ‘You got curious?’ His eyebrows flickered upwards, so I shrugged again. ‘In that case, I would like to ask a more personal question.’

    ‘I had a feeling that was coming.’ I sighed and nodded.

    ‘I think it’s only fair.’ He reasoned and I couldn’t disagree. ‘Tell me about the last time you had sex.’

    My face hurt it was so red. ‘The last time I had sex? Why?’

    ‘For research purposes.’ Nox shrugged, giving me a reason that was clearly not the actual one.

    ‘No, no, no, if we’re going to have an honest conversation, you can’t lie about why you want to know.’ I was putting my foot down. ‘All I did was snoop about a bit, I didn’t ask you anything about you actually having sex.’

    ‘The last time I had sex was with a woman who insisted on taking the aphrodisiac pills I created just so she could stand being with me.’ I was silent. ‘It was the same process every time, she wanted to impress another man with her skill, she used me to practice with as well as test her own limits… I had little else to do with my time.’

    I couldn’t bring myself to say anything that would feel right. Nothing came to mind, I had so many questions, suddenly I was seeing Dr Nox in a new light, one I never even considered him having before.

    ‘She didn’t really want to be with you?’ It was the first thing that left my mouth.

    ‘No, she didn’t enjoy the way I look… it’s a common complaint and one I’m well used to.’

    ‘You mean she didn’t enjoy the hundreds of muscles you have just in your one arm?’

    At least that made him chuckle. ‘That was something she could bear, but she disliked more than just my exterior. She was a very sexual being and I could provide what she needed sexually and no more.’

    ‘But I don’t understand.’ I frowned. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you… I mean, you’ve got a bit of a temper, but you’re not unattractive or anything… what the hell was wrong with her? Why would she do that to you? Why would you let her?’

    Nox just sat smiling. ‘You seem a little upset.’

    ‘I am upset!’ I really was and I wasn’t sure that was being made clear. ‘You can’t just treat people like that, like they’re just playthings for you to do with as you please.’

    ‘Some people like being playthings.’

    ‘Well… yeah, I guess, but if you’re in a relationship or whatever, then it’s different.’

    ‘Do you enjoy it?’

    ‘I suppose, sometimes, but that’s not the point I’m making! I’m trying to say that you don’t deserve to be treated like that and you shouldn’t accommodate these people just because you’re bored, they’ll only take advantage.’

    Nox watched me with a more intense eye. ‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘I won’t let anyone treat me like that again.’

    ‘Good.’ I sighed and took another mouthful of tea to calm down a little, I don’t know why it made me so angry. Nox just continued to watch me for a moment or two.

    ‘Now, will you tell me about the last time you had sex? I believe I’ve revealed more than enough information to warrant something from you.’ He was back to grinning.

    My face inflated red once again and I just half laughed thinking about how awful it really was.

    ‘Erm… we were drunk,’ I started. ‘It was just after I was treated and diagnosed, I was just upset and needed cheering up.’

    ‘Did it help?’

    I shook my head. ‘No… it’s not like either of us were really into it, he didn’t really want to… do anything and I just wanted it to be over.’

    ‘What did he not want to do? Specifically?’

    ‘Specifically?’ I laughed, shaking my head. ‘Anything that I liked or wanted really.’

    We sat silently for a moment, both of us just taking everything in. I felt his hand come up to my face and gently wipe away a tear that I barely knew had fallen.

    ‘Why did you want to know?’

    ‘Because, I’m curious.’ At least that made us both smile.

    ‘You know curiosity killed the cat.’

    ‘What cat?’ He frowned.

    ‘I don’t know, its just old saying.’ I shrugged and he left it there. ‘Wait a second, you asked if I like being someone’s plaything!’

    ‘I did.’ Nox grinned again. ‘And you said, sometimes.’

    ‘Well, then, as per equal rights, you can answer the same question.’ I demanded, not quite knowing how this conversation had actually started and why we were being so upfront about these things.

    ‘I prefer to be the one playing.’ He admitted, thoughtfully.

    For just a moment we both stayed silent, watching each other. His pale eyes scanned me a few times, making my cheeks blush.

    ‘Are we flirting now?’ I asked, still not able to rid my face of a smile.

    ‘I believe we have been for a long time.’ Nox nodded and finished his tea. I frowned. ‘Your personality is refreshing and we’ve never had a dishonest conversation. We make each other laugh at the other’s expense, I don’t mind being myself around you, I believe I have learnt far more from you than I anticipated as well.’

    ‘Well, I’m a great teacher, so that’s no surprise.’

    ‘That’s true.’ He nodded.

    ‘Out of curiosity,’ we both chuckled. ‘What have you learnt from me?’

    ‘That tolerance is not a precursor to love.’ He said, almost immediately. ‘Passion and joy are the only factors that matter.’ Nothing could have prepared me for what he said next. ‘I certainly feel joy when you are around.’

    I felt my mouth open of its own accord. I was only half sure of what he was saying, was he saying what I thought he might have been saying? Did he know what he meant? Did I know what he meant? Was he simply saying he enjoyed my company? That I was a good assistant? Was there another reason I was in his home?

    ‘You’re thinking very fast.’ Nox observed and brought me out of my panic. ‘I said something that you’re unhappy with.’ He concluded and I could see a small amount of sadness creeping into his expression.

    ‘Not… not unhappy.’ I said. ‘I don’t know what I think… I never considered the possibility before.’

    ‘That I could enjoy your company this much?’ He clarified and I nodded. ‘Would you consider it now?’ Did he mean that very second? It was a lot to think about! ‘Perhaps we could discuss it together?’

    ‘Wait… just wait a moment.’ I stopped him. ‘I just want to clarify what you’re saying before I think about anything.’

    He took a deep breath, before speaking, thinking on each word he was about to utter. ‘I am quite certain that I’m falling in love with you.’

    Well… it was clearer at least. I stayed silent for far longer than I intended, just thinking about every conversation we’d ever had where I might have picked up on hints or subtleties or anything at all that may have indicated that he felt that way.

    Almost every conversation where we had been social, was one where he laughed, but that was just because he was relaxed, he was in a place where he didn’t have to be anyone but himself and his work was either being taken care of, or not a concern at that moment. Was that what he was talking about? Or was it something else?

    And how did I feel about him? I liked him, he was a likable man as far as I was concerned, sure he had a little danger in him, but he was a six foot four man who competed in the Apex Games, of course, he was dangerous, he needed to be. Was I attracted to him? He was handsome, sure, an absolute specimen as I’d recently discovered, he had a nice attitude towards me, I never denied that. But was it attraction? I looked up at him and observed him for a moment or two, his expression seemed to be one of patience and confusion.

    ‘It worries me that you have remained silent.’ He stated gently.

    ‘I’m sorry.’ I half smiled. ‘I’m just thinking.’

    ‘I can see that. May I ask what it is that is confusing you?’

    I thought about it for a moment. What was confusing me? ‘Is it physical?’

    ‘Yes.’ He nodded and I felt something drop in my stomach.

    ‘Right.’ I said, much more quietly than I intended.

    ‘It’s also emotional,’ he added and my gaze shot up to his. ‘I suppose spiritual as well, I find it all consuming and intoxicating.’

    ‘Right.’ I breathed again. What was I supposed to say to that?

    Nox bowed his head in disappointment. ‘Can I assume that you do not reciprocate those feelings?’ I could see a flash of anger building, but it didn’t seem to scare me. The anger wasn’t aimed at me, it never was, it was more internal than that. ‘I apologise if I have made a misjudged step, I believed that with our previous discussions and your willingness to talk about sensitive subjects, that you might have found the same comfort in me that I find in you.’

    ‘You’re not comfortable around anyone.’ I pointed out, half in attempt to joke.

    ‘No… I’m not.’ His pale eyes flickered up to mine. I watched as he began going through the process of what to do next.

    ‘I just don’t understand you sometimes.’ I half laughed, startling him slightly.

    ‘In what way?’ He frowned curiously.

    ‘You love science, you love your work, no one has the passion that you do for it,’ I could feel the emotion building behind my eyes. ‘I always thought the best I could be for you was someone who let you get on with that work. I didn’t think you were interested in people like that.’

    ‘I’m not interested in people,’ he shook his head. ‘I find them predictable and hardly noteworthy. I find you intoxicating, Jessica.’ I felt a sudden flush overwhelm my skin, it almost stung.

    ‘That’s a strong feeling to have.’ I raised my eyebrow, playfully.

    ‘It is.’ He agreed and once again, waited for me to say something else.

    ‘When… how did you reach that conclusion?’

    Nox sucked in a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, thinking on his answer. ‘I suppose five months ago I had a feeling that you might not have been as other assistants, another month of watching you work and do your best to allow me the room to do as I needed to… I was fascinated by your work ethic as well as your strength to overcome personal issues.’

    ‘And then what? You just decided it was love?’ I wasn’t taking a shot, I was just trying to understand him.

    ‘I decided it was more than tolerance,’ he smiled. ‘More than simply acknowledging and accepting your existence, I actively sought out to protect it and enjoy it.’

    ‘That’s why you threw a fit when those guys attacked me.’ Suddenly his rage made a lot more sense. I watched his fists suddenly clench and his knuckles began to turn white as the anger started bubbling beneath the surface.

    ‘It was not as irrational as you thought.’ His voice was tense growl and it made me fear slightly. ‘I never wanted you to leave my sight after that, I still don’t.’

    ‘And that’s why I’m here.’ I nodded, understanding everything a little clearer now.

    ‘Yes.’ Nox seemed able to calm himself down and I felt a sudden urge to touch his fists in some effort to loosen them before he did himself an injury. I slid my hand over his soft skin and listened to him exhale in relief, like all he really needed was a little physical contact to finally let the anger leave him.

    Before I really knew what either of us were doing, Nox had turned his hand over and allowed me to glide the tips of my fingers over his palm. I couldn’t help but watch his eyes close as he absorbed the feeling, his breath shallowed and I could have watched his expression all night. I had never known Nox to be so exposed before, to let his guard down this much in front of another person. It scared me for a moment, I needed to stop.

    I took a breath and removed my hand, once again seeing that flash of anger before his eyes connected with mine and it quickly faded.

    ‘Why did you stop?’ He asked, voice low and relaxed.

    ‘Because I got scared.’ I replied honestly.

    ‘Scared of what?’

    ‘Of how willing you are to let your guard down in front of me.’

    Nox was quiet, he just watched me, on occasion his eyes darkened before growing pale again.

    ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything at all.’

    ‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘I’m glad you told me. To be honest, I know I’ve fallen in love with you, but I just don’t know if it’s in quite the same way. I need to think about it for a while.’

    ‘Very well.’ He nodded. ‘If there’s anything you require of me, please ask.’

    ‘I will.’ I smiled gently, before knowing how to ease all tension. ‘Maybe you should have just slipped me one of those pills and just taken what you want.’

    It made him smile and shake his head, not the reaction I was expecting. ‘I believe that experience would be more satisfying with your permission and no external stimulants.’

    ‘Oh, I don’t know, sometimes that stuff can be fun,’ I felt my face blush at the sudden image of Nox and I together in bed. ‘But I think you’d need the pills more than I would.’

    Nox leaned forward and frowned. ‘You’re giving me mixed signals.’ He said, eyeing me curiously.

    ‘I have another question.’ I stopped him from looking at me too closely. He nodded for me to ask it. ‘When I was hurt and you were helping me, putting the ointment on… it looked like you enjoyed what you were seeing, the bruises on my ribs.’ I watched a new expression appear on his face, one I was unsure I understood. ‘I don’t know if I could really fall for someone who enjoys that kind of thing. Why do you like it?’

    Nox stood up, I saw the flicker of rage and suddenly I felt like I needed to run away, like something very bad was about to happen. He walked to the centre of the living room and I watched his whole being tense and his fists once again clench so tightly he was at risk of injuring himself.

    ‘It wasn’t the bruising.’ He said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. I listened to him taking deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. ‘I didn’t enjoy seeing you in pain, Jessica.’

    ‘Then what was it?’ I asked just as quietly.

    Nox turned around and sighed. ‘Do you really want me to tell you?’ He took a careful step towards me again. I nodded and watched him swallow nervously. ‘Before I applied the treatment, I couldn’t help but notice your body… I enjoyed the shape, the way it felt when I applied the ointment. The bruising extended below your belt and I imagined…’ he was suddenly unable to finish the sentence and looked away, ashamed. ‘But now, I know that you don’t feel the same way, I don’t wish cause you any discomfort.’

    I thought for a moment. What the hell was wrong with me? I had a really hot, sexy, powerful and intelligent man telling me that he loved me and I wasn’t exactly rejecting him, he wanted me, probably for perfectly legitimate reasons and I was treating it like a normal conversation.

    ‘It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.’ I said quietly. Nox took another step towards me, somewhat hopeful. ‘I don’t know if I feel the exact same way, but I know that I like what you’re saying. I just think the rest of me would disappoint you.’

    Nox grinned and his shoulders sank in relief. ‘I think the chance is worth taking, I don’t believe you could disappoint me.’ He took the last step towards me and I felt my breath stutter. ‘You’ve stopped shaking.’

    I looked down at my hands to find he was right, the shaking from when we were in my flat had stopped and I felt a lot more settled. Maybe I did feel something more for him. I felt his hands slide over mine, caressing them gently, not intrusively, just suggestively, like the promise of more was just a question away.

    ‘Jessica,’ he said, before I could speak. ‘As much as I would love to do this tonight, you’re exhausted and still in pain.’ His hand moved to my jaw, gently bringing me up to face him, his eyes were dark, but it was clear he wasn’t about to do anything I didn’t want him to. ‘Will you allow me to assist you?’

    ‘Okay.’ I breathed, the temptation to reach out and touch him was overwhelming for a second.

    Nox never looked away, he gently pulled me to stand up and for a while, I thought he might kiss me. I certainly wouldn’t have rejected him, but he didn’t kiss me, instead he took my hand in his and led me down a corridor, past the bathroom towards the end of the hall where another two doors were, one leading to a bedroom, the other I had no idea.

    He opened the door to reveal a bedroom with a low bed almost twice the size of my own, dark, blue sheets were half on the floor, half on the bed. The floor was warm, dark grey wood with a white rug that surrounded the bed and a door that sat off to one side.

    ‘Is that a walk-in wardrobe?’ I raised my eyebrow and watched Nox grin and look a little bashful. ‘Why do you need a walk-in wardrobe? Why does anyone need one?’

    ‘It’s not need, it’s want.’ His voice was lower than I remember. ‘However, I’m surprised you didn’t notice the view.’ He gestured behind me to where a window stretched the length of his entire room, it was like a sea of glittering lights. I felt my legs move of their own accord towards the window to watch the nightlife of downtown. The vehicles moving through the streets, making the lights look like one continuous line of light, the flickering of building lights going on and off and the black sheet of sky covering everything.

    ‘It’s so peaceful.’ I breathed.

    ‘It is.’ I felt Nox breathe behind me and we just spent a moment watching the silent night in front of us.

    ‘Do you feel better for helping me tonight?’ I asked, unsure of where the question came from all of a sudden.

    ‘I do.’ His voice penetrated my core and I felt myself lean back ever so slightly. Nox was much closer than I realised because I felt the exterior of his t-shirt brushing my back, I wanted to keep going, something about his body pressed against me was alluring me in a way that I had never felt before. ‘Would you like me to check your injuries?’

    I sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, clearing my throat, pretending like I wasn’t suddenly aroused by Dr Nox.

    ‘Lie down on the bed.’ He commanded and at first, I was hesitant, but soon I found myself walking towards his bed, watching him move the duvet to make room for me. The bed itself was incredibly comfortable and the second I lay down, I found myself wanting to fall asleep. Nox sat beside me and opened up the drawer beside us. ‘Lift your shirt.’ He said, taking the bottle of ointment out and pouring a little in the bowl that I didn’t realise was there. When did he get that? ‘You seemed to be enjoying the view, so I decided to leave you to it.’ He grinned and suddenly the Nox I knew was back.

    I chuckled and tried my hardest to relax, but it was difficult being in his bed, with my shirt lifted, knowing he enjoyed what he was seeing. I felt the warm cloth touch my skin and suddenly my eyes shut and a new sensation washed over me, one that filled me with warmth and comfort. I felt the cloth run over my ribs, close to the hem of my t-shirt that was just about covering my chest, all the way down to the top of my joggers that hung a little lower on my hips than usual.

    I felt the cloth suddenly stop when I inadvertently let out a low hum. My eyes flew open and I could see that Nox had a very dark look to him indeed, he was waiting for something. Permission? I swallowed thickly and he looked away, frowning slightly and removing the cloth from my ribs.

    ‘I’m sorry.’ I whispered.

    ‘Let me kiss you?’ It was the low commanding voice that came immediately after my apology.

    I felt myself nod, not quite of my own accord and suddenly his lips connected with mine and a low growl was passed between us, neither of us quite knowing who it was that was making the noise. His hand slid up my jaw as he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to fully explore my mouth, his teeth to draw out moans wherever he saw fit and I couldn’t help but let my own hands drift up his body, feeling each muscle in his torso, his bulging stomach, narrow hips and broad chest. Nox groaned deeply the second my fingers traced the skin across the bottom of his t-shirt.

    He brought his hands down to my wrists and gently pulled them away from his body to the side of my head. ‘Not tonight.’ He whispered, grazing my lips. ‘Jessica, not tonight.’

    ‘Why not?’ I frowned, not sure why after kissing me and making me ready for him, he would want to suddenly stop everything.

    Nox chuckled lowly. ‘My saying no should be enough.’ He pulled back just a little to look down at me, his grip on my wrists loosened as his thumbs traced the sensitive skin on the inside of my forearms.

    ‘You’re sending me mixed signals.’ I echoed from earlier in the evening. Making Nox chuckle and place a chaste kiss to my mouth. He brought his hand down to my ribs, again stroking his thumb over the sensitive skin, before curling his large hand around my waist. He put the faintest amount of pressure on the still bruised skin and my eyes widened, while my own hand came down to stop him.

    Nox sighed and smiled gently. ‘Not tonight.’ He repeated and I suddenly found myself agreeing. I slowed my breathing and kept it steady, while Nox continued to stroke my ribs and place the softest kisses to my mouth. It was both keeping me at a low level of arousal and relaxing me enough to go to sleep and he could feel it. ‘I’ll leave you to rest, Jessica.’

    ‘Stay.’ I breathed, not quite knowing if I really said it or if he heard me as my eyes closed and remained so until morning.

  If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[reinterlacing]

I'm about to start taking apart my lan (local area network for you witchy mosscore types) in the house I came to in 2019 hoping to find solace and a place to recover.

I'll disconnect the tiny PC and the even tinier tech box + hard drive, and the network switch, and battery backup which make up my little indie "data center" that I built from cheap and cast-off parts. I'll take down the router in the basement and the one upstairs that formed a wifi bridge around the huge chimney so I could work in a bedroom while the servers lived next to the ethernet drop in the cool dark downstairs.

I'm bringing all this with me and will set it up in another basement - one where I can potentially leave it for a while - in a house where I don't know if I can stay more than another few weeks or a month or two.

I came out here with a lot of hope. that hope is now gone, replaced by other hope that's lesser in scope but perhaps more realistic.

I learned a lot.

I learned a bunch of technologies which I taught myself on those doorstop computers - just like when I was 16 and my father saw me using a computer I built in a literal cardboard box and had nothing to contribute. back then I taught myself assembly language out of a library book. in this case it was vital skills I missed from 2014 onward.

I learned people have widely differing ideas when it comes to core values like friendship, loyalty, duty of concern, and so forth. "people" very much including me. I've hurt others due to my own questionable values in that regard and now I know it. my own inability to communicate under certain conditions also did not help.

I learned that every molecule of extroversion within me is "affiliative" - the drive to love & be loved - rather than "agentic" - the desire to project & be seen. a lot of people seem to prefer agentic extroversion, and I learned I have very little to say to those who do.

I lost my best friend & confidant of 30 years, I haven't even begun to be able to address that, and quite frankly, nobody gives a shit.

I honestly don't know what to say or do at this point and am just grateful to have found some Zen teachings along the lines of "before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water; after enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water."

lately people have been having opinions on how I should or shouldn't be doing things. the common thread among all these people is that they have expended minimal effort to understand why I do what I do in the way that I do. accordingly, their opinions on the subject are of little use to me.

I found out the mother who I've had no contact with in many years, whose mind was gone not long after I broke it off, is dying. it wasn't a shock. only in the past few months did I reach sufficient insight on the shit she did to have compassion for her as a human being, and she didn't have anywhere near the 30 years it took for me to get there, extended as the journey was by her bad behavior, lack of insight, and lack of ability to build another human being up rather than tear them down. I needed, and need, a lot of support which I never got.

I treasure my newfound wisdom, but overall, I feel diminished by the past 5 years especially.

at this point I just want to find someone to be naked with - I think if you're still reading you know what I mean by this, or close enough anyhow - who'll be my ride or die and I'll be their ride or die until the wheels really do come off this whole absurd circus or until we're gone, whichever comes first.

I always thought sure that'd happen. I thought sure. even thru all the time being an awkward kid and an awkward adult, I was sure I'd eventually find my constant, and then I would finally be able to put all the hungry restless miles behind me and devote myself to her and to us.

it's hard to overstate how central this is to my identity. people usually wanna sell some individualistic platitudes at this point, but I am long past that bullshit. I am absolutely meant to be part of a dyad and I function so much better within a healthy one.

and now I have to admit, decades late at pointing out the obvious, that the odds don't really seem very good.

I don't know how much fight I have left in me, probably it'd be none but for the continued availability of a very long pharmaceutical supply chain. but those pills are some good shit; I know I'll keep getting up as long as that prescription keeps showing up.

for the position I'm in, I'm in a pretty good position: a nearly-complete 1-man survival gear loadout, a collection of computer bits sufficient to do indie remote work from most anywhere in the lower 48 and in many other countries, and a paid 3-month SIM card.

I can pull 40 bucks an hour even with absolute shit-tier reliability because of my skillset, and I can make a lot more than that if I can ever get stable again. I just need a quiet private space without a bunch of random shit going on in it, especially addiction.

I am a homebody. I need a home. me without a kitchen and plants is already approaching tragic, now please if you are going to be present with me at all, understand that I, need, a home.

and the reality is, I don't think I'm going to have one for a long time yet, if ever.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Extra Chapter

*Warning Adult Content*

Wren and Tristan - Part 1

'Who is that man?'

As I walk to where my friends are, I spot a tall, muscled Alpha dressed in a casual shirt and jeans who towers over all of us.

I've never seen him before.

He's got wavy, shaggy auburn hair that goes past his shoulders, not particularly styled in any way.

It's not quite as red as Lylah's and his freckles are fainter than hers but darker than Ash's.

As I get closer to him, my heart starts to beat faster, a strange feeling overcoming me.

And then it's like the whole world stops as we lock eyes.

'Oh God.'

'Mate,' he growls as he takes me in, canines flashing.

I know it immediately.

That he's the one.

My other half. My Alpha.

But for some reason, it's too much.

After chasing after guys that didn't give a fuck about me for years in hopes that one of them would be my mate... I thought I'd be happy.

But I'm not. I'm... scared. Scared of something new.

Scared of breaking the cycle of the way I've been living.

And most of all, scared that he'll see an omega like me as unsatisfactory.

"N-no. That can't be..." I stutter but my wolf wants nothing more than to lie down on my back, exposing my belly as an invitation for him to claim me.

I have to resist it. I can't do this, not with my friends watching.

So I turn and sprint for the woods, shifting into my small black wolf.

I hear a low growl behind me and I know he's coming after me.

Fuck. I'll never be able to outrun an Alpha, so I have to find a way to slip from his view.

I tear through the trees, hyperventilating.

I make various twists and turns through the brush, hoping to get him off my trail.

But he's too fast and I realize the scent of my heat is trailing behind me, a perfect path for him to follow even if he does lose me for a few seconds.

Tears build in my eyes as I panic.

What have I gotten myself into?

I try to increase my speed, running aimlessly forward when a deathly roar stops me in my tracks.

I skid to an abrupt stop, the fear in my bones.

Only then do I realize I'm basically teetering off the edge of a cliff.

My stomach drops. In seconds I feel a jaw close around the scruff of my neck, roughly hauling me back away from the edge.

I whine and squirm as he transports me a good thirty feet away from the edge, then finally plops me down.

He glares down at me, his Lycan eyes flashing nearly white and I whimper.

I can almost hear him telling me how stupid I am.

It's like I have no control, my body distressed and I start to shift back to my human form against my will, mortified as I reveal my naked self to him, curled up on the ground.

He shifts too, the bones snapping into place to reveal the giant Alpha that looms over me.

"You hate the thought of me as your mate so much that you would rather die?" he asks coldly.

His voice is deep and rough and I can't deny that I'm immediately attracted to it.

I sniffle, shaking my head.

"I didn't... I didn't m-mean to."

"Then why did you run from me?"

"I don't know," I confess.

"I could have lost you just now. I could've lost you minutes after finding you," he growls.

I understand his anger.

I can't imagine how horrible it would be if I drove someone... drove my mate... to fall to their death.

"I'm sorry."

Silence. Neither of us says anything more. I look up at him from my kneeling position, deciding that if he's going to stand up, baring it all, I should too.

It's the least I can do after the shit I just pulled.

So I get to my feet before him.

I take in his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, his abs for days.

A large portion of his pale skin is inked with tattoos, which I follow the design of downwards on his body.

But I don't dare let my eyes wander lower than his V-line.

He, on the other hand, has no reservations of any sort.

His eyes rake over me greedily, taking in every inch of my skin, every curve of my body.

He clenches his jaw as his gaze lingers between my legs, eyes flashing in hunger.

And when he gets to my face, his expression softens, examining every feature.

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, feeling flustered under his intense stare.

He lets out a slow exhale.

"You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."

'What?'

I stare at him in shock, wondering if I actually heard those words coming out of his mouth.

Usually the only compliments I get are half-assed and driven by the desire to get in my pants.

And while he is looking at me in a sexual way, I don't think that's all there is to it.

Like this... me... means more to him than just that.

"Has no one ever told you that? How beautiful you are?"

I flush, shaking my head.

"They're idiots, then," he says, stepping closer.

I don't understand.

The way my heart pounds for this man, even after all these years that I've liked Jay.

If you asked me this morning if I was over him, I'd say no.

But now... He reaches out for me tentatively and I flinch, backing away. I'm still weary of him.

"Don't be afraid," he says, eyes stormy.

How can I not be afraid? He's intimidating.

Big. Naked and covered in tattoos.

I'm only 5'3", while I can tell he's way over 6 foot.

He's definitely taller than Jay, probably as tall as Daemon.

And my Omega simultaneously fears and desires him.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

I keep back, not daring to go any closer to him.

"I don't know."

"I would rather die than harm you," he assures me.

"And I'd never raise a hand against an Omega in the first place."

At his words, I feel relieved of some of the tightness in my chest.

He's being genuine.

"But h-how can we be mates?" I ask, still in disbelief.

Is this really happening?

"Do you not burn for me in your chest?" he glances downwards on me. "Or between your legs?" he smirks, eyes darkening in lust.

I follow his gaze to my lower body, realizing I'm getting hard just being in his presence.

He smells heavenly, like spices and earth and rain and I just want to bury my nose in his scent.

Just the sight of him makes me clench, getting wet.

He's all strength and muscles, such a stark difference to my small frame, my soft, slim body.

We're opposites but that makes him all the more enticing.

Because one look at his strong arms makes me think I might've been made to be in them, made to fit right in the cage of his chest.

"Don't resist it, my mate. You were made for me. As I was for you," he pushes on.

'Holy Heck. Did he read my mind?'

"I-I don't even know your name"

"It's Tristan."

"Well Tristan, this is all going way too fast."

He walks closer toward me, reaching out.

"I mean, I'm just not ready for..."

He takes my hands into his, slow and gentle.

My skin sings in delight at the contact,and I look down at where we touch.

My small brown hands in his large, rough, pale ones.

"Wren. I've waited twenty five damn years to find you," he says, voice filled with raw emotion.

"How do you expect me to act when you're finally right here in front of me. Naked."

He pulls me in and I don't resist this time.

My wolf is screaming at me to touch my mate and my body can't resist.

I can't resist.

"Let me claim you," he whispers, cupping my face in his callused hand, tilting my chin up to face him.

His light orbs stare into my dark ones, beckoning me.

And I find myself entranced.

"I will cherish you, take care of you. Protect you with my life. I will love you more than anything else."

"W-why would you do that?" I ask, my voice trembling.

No one has ever declared something like that to me.

The guys I dated to block out the pain of Jay forgetting me would keep me for a quick fuck then dump me.

But I think this time... he's serious. I can see it... the truth his eyes hold.

"Because you are my Omega mate. The only one I'll ever want."

"How can you be so sure?"

He pulls me in, our lips almost touching.

"One look at you and I knew."

His eyes search mine, search for an answer.

I tear up, so moved by his confession.

And the way he touches me like I'm precious, something to be treasured, loved.

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

Words. They held power - a concept that men like himself and the sorceress took very seriously. But as a warrior herself, it was not as sharp as the blades she wielded. It wasn't power she sought to gain but one that she overlooked. She had thought more to express her thoughts and feelings given that conversation had been established. Two notions that were generally drowned with countless spirits as to make the world more tolerable. More accepting. More… livable. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged the remark she made carelessly and allowed her head to dip ever so slightly.

"I have bled. My bones have been broken. I've seen people die. Friends and foes alike. I've lost, I've gained. But ultimately… I live. And life can mean many things to people. To some it can be the end. Others it may be a new beginning. For me… It's what I have to do. For you… it's something else."

She pursed her lips, sinching whatever poorly conveyed words that might threaten to tumble after. Her gaze now was cast through the pitch of the woods - seeing no light to reveal the answers he so demanded from her. It made her wonder faintly what she could even say to amend her mistake, but mistakes were what she prevailed at.

"I cannot imagine what your life is like. It's not a perspective I would want to have. Though, it's what sets us apart. You can say what you want to my flaws, but they are the flaws I own and live with. And you… having the intellect that you do, made a calculated choice and would risk becoming associated with me. These words I speak are not meant to harm, but they are said sometimes without the merit of thought. For that, I am sorry."

She allowed the apology to hang there as she regarded the other sharp statements, he lobbed her way and exhaled again. The entrapment he felt was the same he corralled herself and others into to find leverage in any given situation. Did he feel remorse for it? Was that why he made the remark? Whatever the reasoning, she took into account his sense of agency and purpose. It should have been admirable. It should be acknowledged. It is his reputation. Yet the stones that were often cast at her found their way in the form of words that she spoke back to him. It was a different perspective. One she didn't have to fulfill or carry out. But it wasn't something she felt to thank him for, or rather… she couldn't. Like he admitted, he had to be worse than the evil in the world. Green eyes drifted down to the motion of his hand as the business card was offered to her. The presentation alone felt like accepting a contract and binding one's soul to eternal damnation. But there was no hesitation on the Commander's part as she reached to take it. Between plated digits, she regarded the illustration on its surface before lowering it out of view. The fel green eye still piercing her mind as if to say, "I'm watching you". Much like a naked women bathing, this was an unsettling thought. With the instructions relayed, she felt her eyebrow twitch at his parting words. Augur's Row. It was a place she had been quite familiar with but opted to only deal with because others couldn't. A repressed sigh left her as she watched him begin his advance back towards Deathholme. In a way it felt symbolic. Something of his character that otherwise would have been missed if she was still drunk. Again, the pained throb of her hangover surged, and she made a point to at least acknowledge him with one final word.

"…Understood."

@nixalegos - thanks for the scene :3 <3

@sanguinesorceress for your reading pleasure

@tursidhion-felomelorn say my name~ say my nameeee~ you acting kind of shady, calling me JUGGERNAUT

@allasticus family shenanigans \o/

A little wrong done right.

Continued from HERE "Probably the fact I'm still recording you saying this." He chided her, coming to take a slow step back, in equal parts to her coming forward to take the stone. Drunk and upset people did strange things. But he relaxed a hair as she used the healthstone as instructed. Watching as the pilfered and congealed mass of stolen vitality was given onto them, erasing their silly would be sacrificial wound. "You are, naturally, free to attempt to besmirch and deceive the Magistry against a civilian with a substantial record of heroics, cooperation, and who's own wife is a Blood Knight Master of our beloved city of Quel'Thalas." He edified. "I'm sure the courts would be very lenient, given your position Commander." He teased as the sudden eradication of booze in their veins struck them with an instant hangover. Oops. "Why don't we wander down from this place, and I get you back to the local garrison. You can watch me ensure the recordings...disappear in exchange for a history lesson between you and the conniving bitch." He offered, taking another step back, and cast a glance at the altar, marked with sic and blood. The shimmer of a shivarra vanished back into the cloak of invisibility. The Geist that had nearly managed to strike at the drunken elf safely dispatched and quietly let to slump behind the altar, unseen. Two gargoyles. A Geist. A ghost. Remains tucked behind bushes, and decaying scrubplants. Left to flake as much as the ethereal dust of his healthstone had crumbled to. Blood was the echo of a heartbeat. A heartbeat was sound. Sound was a language. Language bore words. And words...were power. Because despite their best efforts at melodrama. Malakortana was not actually the dead womans name. And with no proper entity to fill the siren call of spilled life and innocent power in this dead place, all sorts of nameless dead things came, and would continue to come, all eager to play the role of 'Mala' if it meant even a drop of life, a moments respite. The hooded man had taken advantage of their drunken stupor and distraction away from the dangers they'd inadvertently called. "I'm just looking out for number one." He lied. "I've some history with them too."

@kelzthalassunwhisper

[sleep-i-ness]

Distracted (Fred Weasley x reader)

Synopsis: Your roommates drag you along to their Quidditch practice, but it's all worth the disgusting weather in the end

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

The heavy door to your dorm creaks open, loud chattering filling the room as your friends bustle in. They had been on the pitch, hair tousled and still panting; clearly Wood had worked them hard. Angelina shoves Alicia in response to some unwanted comment, probably to do with George Weasley, judging by the teasing grin on her face.

“Thought you’d be a bit longer, Alicia,” you murmur, flicking through your Potions textbook. Hm… powdered asphodel would do the trick.

She pulls a face at you, chucking her damp Quidditch robe at you. “Shut it. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

You pick up the filthy robe, holding it between two fingers so as to touch as little of it as possible. Disgusting. “So I was just imagining you and Wood celebrating after the last match?”

Alicia groans. “Whatever. I’m showering first.”

Grinning, you prop yourself up onto your elbows as you sink into the sheets. It was always the same argument after practice which was why you had taken your turn ages before the end of their practice – it was better to be safe than sorry, even if Wood was more likely to overrun than let them go early.

Angelina scoffs. “No way. You showered first yesterday.”

“Not my fault you’re too slow.”

You sigh; the bickering was always the same and getting tiring. “Why don’t you just shower in the changing rooms?”

Angelina wrinkles her nose. “Because for some reason Hogwarts has mixed gender changing rooms and communal showers. As much as I’m sure the rest of the team would love to see us in the showers, I’d rather not be naked in front of a bunch of hormonal teenage boys.”

“Honestly, it’s so old fashioned. It’s as if they still expect the Quidditch teams to be all male,” Alicia adds, throwing herself onto her bed. “Angelina, take the shower before I change my mind.”

Her face lights up and she darts to her trunk, tugging out an embossed washbag. “Thanks, you can go first tomorrow!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Alicia calls back as the bathroom door swings shut, turning back to look at you. She tilts her head. “I don’t know why you don’t ever come to watch our practices.”

You glance outside at the torrential rain, wind battering the branches, and frown. Golden firelight flickers in the glass, a sharp contrast to the unwelcoming greys of the outside. “Because it’s cold and wet and boring? I’m fine just coming to your matches.”

Alicia pouts. “Come tomorrow? I’m not the only one who’d like to see you there.”

“What do you mean by that? I swear to Merlin if you’re trying to set me up again-”

“Come along and you’ll find out.” She winks, flipping over onto her front to look at you with a worrying grin. “I promise you it’s worth your while.”

:.

“Oi, Wood, we brought Y/N along to watch.”

Fred’s head snaps towards the figure in the stands, catching Alicia’s smug grin.

“How many times have I said that I don’t want spectators during practices?” Oliver raises his eyebrows, leaning against his broom.

“Don’t be a stick in the mud, Oliver,” Angelina groans. “You know that Y/N isn’t spying on our tactics or anything like that.”

“I swear she’s basically your sister anyway,” Katie remarks.

Oliver shakes his head. His own team mutinying against him. “Evenif it’s Y/N.”

“I’ll make it up to you after practice, babe,” Alicia winks. Harry flushes, the tips of his ears turning pink, and Katie laughs at him.

Fred groans, sharing a look with George. “Can you two please stop fucking in the changing rooms? Some of us actually want to use it for its intended purpose.”

“As if you wouldn’t jump at the chance to get alone with Y/N in there,” Angelina chimes in, smirking at him.

Fred rolls his eyes, cheeks flushing as he fails to retaliate.

George sniggers, flashing him a mocking grin. “I’ll go greet our guest.”

“Absolutely no way, Weasley, get back here, we need to start practice.”

Wood’s orders fall on deaf ears as George jogs over to you, calling out your name and waving frantically. You put your book down next to you, standing up to lean against the railings. In all honesty, you were only here to see Fred, a fact that you definitely wanted to keep hidden you’re your roommates. They would never let you hear the end of it.

“Hey Georgie.”

Your voice drifts over to Fred on the breeze, a slight chuckle to your tone, and he scowls. He hates how you have a nickname for his brother, hates how feels like he’s competing and knows it’s not fair on George.

“That’s a foul look, Freddie.” Angelina snorts as he turns towards her, frown deepening. She laughs at him, stumbling mockingly as he pushes her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Oliver wades in, thwacking him gently on the back of his head with his broomstick. Fred hisses, rubbing the spot, but Oliver just shrugs at him. “We have practice to get on with. George Weasley, get the fuck over here.”

:.

Oliver’s yelling signals the end of practice as he berates his team for messing around too much. Every time you had looked over, Fred had been distracted, missing the Bludgers and ignoring his teammates’ calls. And you had a terrible feeling it had something to do with your presence; you had made him uncomfortable, unwilling to have fun in front of you, or something. You knew coming was a bad idea.

You make your way down to the pitch as the team trails off, chatting animatedly, although Fred still seems distracted. He forces a smile when he sees you. Shit. It was definitely your fault.

George and Oliver tackle you into a sweaty hug, hair damp from the drizzle and exertion, cheeks burnished red by the wind. You wriggle, laughing as they keep a tight hold on you. George shakes his hair in your face, and you groan, pushing them off.

“You guys are disgusting; go take a shower.”

“Care to join me?” George wiggles his eyebrows, slinging an arm round your shoulders. You shove him away, miming sticking a finger down your throat, and he just chuckles at you.

Angelina scoffs. “It’s not like we’ll actually get in there; Alicia will be too busy making it up to Oliver.”

“Again?” Your eyebrows shoot up, turning to your roommate with laugh. “Have you two ever heard of bedroom?”

George covers Harry’s ears, the poor kid squirming and pink in the face. You always forget that they have a third year on their team. It isn’t a common thing because the better players tend to come from the older years… or those with pureblood parents, in that Malfoy boy’s case.

Angelina and Katie laugh at Oliver’s red face as he blusters, trying to reassert his authority over his team. George is equally unhelpful, commenting on whether Oliver was this poor at being dominant in bed as well as on the pitch, and Harry looks like he’d rather be anyway else than in the conversation. Your focus, however, is drawn to Fred marching ahead of everyone, absorbed in his thoughts.

You jog to catch up, hoping to at least apologise for turning up to practice unwanted. “Hey, Freddie.”

He breaks free from whatever he’s thinking about, shouldering his broomstick and giving that familiar smirk. Merlin, he made your knees weak. “So what did Alicia and Angelina promise you to get you out here? I’m pretty sure you said that you’d rather kiss Filch than come to one of these practices.”

You laugh, cheeks heating up as you remember that very drunken conversation. “I hope you won’t hold me to that. Um, Alicia said something about it being worth my while, which hasn’t yet been proven true.”

“My company not good enough?”

“Freddie, I can hang out with you without having to sit on a bench for two hours, freezing my bum off and watching you lot play with balls.”

He rubs his hands together, huffing into them to create some friction, and holds them out to you. “I can warm your bum up?”

You swat him on the shoulder, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Down, boy.”

He slips an arm around your shoulders, the pair of you falling into a comfortable silence. You know each other well, and you’re happy enough to just enjoy his company. But your guilt niggles at you, and you realise that there’s no way you could leave the subject of the practice alone.

“Freddie…”

He hums an acknowledgement, shooting a glare at something over his shoulder, but you’re too slow to spot whatever has him riled.

“During practice, you seemed a little distracted… Is everything alright?”

Of all the things he expects you to say, it isn’t that.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sounds lacklustre to his own ears, unable to convince even himself. How could he say that he could barely keep his eyes off of you? Or that he’d been pining over you for several years now?

“Really?” You give him an unconvinced look, before dropping it and sighing. “Freddie, you can tell me anything. I’m always here for you. Promise.”

Fred pushes open the door to the changing room, hesitating as he turns back to look at you and beckons you in before he can think twice. The room is rather more sweet-smelling than usual, but that will change as soon as the rest of the team walks in. The rest of the team. Fuck. Fred knows exactly what they’ll say about the two of you alone in the changing room, and he doesn’t want you to have to endure their ribbing.

“I’m fine, I swear. But if you stay in here much longer, the others will walk in, and Merlin knows what jokes they’ll start making.”

You shrug. “Not sure I’d mind. Maybe we should prove them right.”

Fred chokes on his saliva, eyes wide as saucers as his head whips towards you. He certainly doesn’t feel very suave now, speechless and staring.

“So you going to kiss me or just continue gawking at me?”

That prompts him into action, a little too late to regain the upper hand, but enough time to remedy his speechlessness.

Your eyelids flutter shut as his lips brush your, stopping as he gazes into your half-open eyes. The desire that burns his veins intensifies as you blink slowly up at him, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip. The sweet scent of your perfume is mixed with the earthy tones of the outdoors, filling his senses as he deepens the kiss. One hand slides up to grip his hair, the other cupping the side of his cheek as he pulls you into him, head rushing.

His lips are soft against yours and you gasp as his teeth pull at your lip; heat rising from your feet, rushing throughout your body.

George wolf-whistles, and you break away from Fred, hiding your face in his shoulder. They would never let you hear the end of it, especially considering how much you had mocked Alicia and Oliver.

“Finally made a move, Freddie?”

He chuckles at you, pressing a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to face his teammates.

“Oh, bugger off, you lot.”

-

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[jungkxook]

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh 

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?”

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have. 

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first. 

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say. 

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out. 

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again. 

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated. 

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong. 

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too. 

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened. 

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day. 

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted. 

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you. 

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun. 

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is. 

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no. 

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish. 

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song. 

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too? 

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap. 

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly. 

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place. 

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?” 

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?” 

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly. 

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved. 

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his. 

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds. 

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”  

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still. 

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest. 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get. 

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you. 

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat. 

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments. 

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off. 

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out  blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway. 

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him. 

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different. 

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑���𝐌 𝐈 ↟ 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

↠  summary: After fleeing from the regime taking over the castle, you find yourself under the protection of the renowned Blood God, Technoblade.

↠ fantasy au, slowburn romance

↠  pairing: c!Techno x fm!reader

↠  tw: blood, mentions of gore, mentions of violence

↠  wc: ~2.3k

a/n: This is actually a pretty self-indulgent thing so no characters or plotlines will really be accurate. As always, my series(es) are at the mercy of my inbox so if you have any comments/ideas/want to make a moodboard, let me know! Happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

The leaves crunched beneath your feet with every dragging step, your strides heavy and uneven as you clutched your side. Sticky ribbons of crimson threaded through your fingers, oozing from between your ribs as each movement sent a new flash of white, stabbing pain to echo through your body. Your toes were growing numb, and your vision was blurring at the edges.

The snow stirred pink in the steep trenches you had begun to cut into the earth. As your lungs burned with each gulping breath, you wondered how long you could make it in this state. Where had you even been going in the first place? You couldn’t remember at this point, only that you were running.

Each time you figured you could go on no longer, your body somehow managed to carry you further. The uphill incline you were now grappling with left your knees buried and the chill of hypothermia began to take effect.

Bright flairs torn open the darkness of the sky, a sign they were looking for you in the woods now. Surely, they would see the trail of struggle you had left behind and would follow you. The shrieking noise of the lights scrapped against your eardrums, adding to the intense beating of your heart already pounding against your damaged ribs.

Your ice-cold fingers reached for the trunks of the slender trees masking your identity, hoping for any signs of leverage to propel yourself forward and away from the noise of the bloodhounds and nearby circuits of soldiers and their braying steeds. The light from the flairs illuminated the scenery around you, the shadows of the trees stretching across the snow like bony limbs aching to entangle their prey.

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as searing pain rippled through one of your legs. Tears stung your eyes as you avoided looking at the flesh now torn from your worn body as you dislodged your knee from a tree root buried in the snow. The frustration weighing on your tired body was overcoming your earlier adrenaline.

You scorned yourself as you looked down at the blood seeping from your mangled limbs and into the crystal snow. So much blood, you thought, finding it difficult to lift your head as you propelled yourself further up the hill. The dogs were nearing your location, the flairs becoming more sporadic as if they knew exactly where you were. Maybe your mind was draining as your blood further spread against your skin.

You had lost feeling in your legs, the warmth of your blood pooling in your shoes was no longer a reality check for you. Your eyelids felt as heavy as stone as your chest ached for rest, a burn of exhaustion settling in your lungs. Your knees buckled beneath you, digging into the blanket of white as your body sighed in relief at stopping. You knew you needed to move further. You needed to put more distance between you and the men, but you were so tired.

As your body began to fold in on itself, you could barely make out a figure standing before you. Animalistic eyes of panic and confusion burned into your figure. His cloak drifted against his stature in the nipping winter breeze. Neither of you moved at first, your cheeks burning from your tears and the cold. He watched you, unsure of your next move or if you even had the life force to pick yourself up enough to be a threat.

You weren’t sure how, but suddenly you found yourself staring at the night sky, your corpse cradled by the icy snowdrifts. Large flakes of translucent white flakes made it seem as if the stars were falling towards you, swirling around the tree limbs and avoiding their grasp. As the black sky began to blur your vision, your body began to feel lighter, the urge to relax becoming overwhelming as you no longer heard the dogs, only the sound of the snow hitting the ground could break through your calm as your eyelids drifted shut.

Bright light streamed into your room, burning your eyes slightly as you came to. Your mind panicked, realizing the sweet smell infiltrating your senses was completely unfamiliar to you. You hesitated to reopen your eyes, your ears picking up on a quiet scrapping noise somewhere in the room you were laying. Your body was stiff; sore even. You could feel someone else in the room. You could tell the other presence wasn’t paying you any mind, but the fact that they were there startled you. Could they be waiting to kill you? Did it matter if you were dead anyway?

You finally mustered enough courage to open your eyes, a bare wood ceiling staring back at you. You turned your head to the side, finally spotting the other person. You could tell by the broadness of his shoulders that it was the man in the woods. Images from that night flashed into your mind as you looked at him. The look of worry that had painted his features into pitted darkness was wiped clean, instead, a healthy calm settled over his face.

His feet were kicked up at the end of your bed, a book resting on his lap as he leaned back in an old chair. He held a bright green apple and a knife, lazily cutting a slice for himself as his eyes skimmed the pages like he’d read the words over and over in the past. A blush crept to your cheeks as your gaze traveled to the part of his chest peeking from beneath his open shirt. His pink hair was braided back with a hint of messiness like the escaping tendrils were planned. What wasn’t tied back hung freely around his strong shoulders.

It scorned you to think in such a way, but you figured you really were dead and some Roman god was waiting to send you to the Fields of Mourning, or, more accurately in your case, Tartarus.

As you moved to sit up, pain spiked throughout your body, joints aching with soreness and the sharpness of your wounds signaling your nerve endings. You groaned, attempting to fight through your instinct to cry. The man watched you, an eyebrow raised in your direction as his deadpanned expression surveyed your actions. He cut another piece of apple off, the blade pressing against the pad of his thumb without bother.

“You should probably hold still,” he stated, ruby irises flashing over your pathetic state. You eyed him carefully before lowering yourself back into the pillows. You reached up to touch the cut that you knew would scar from one of the men. Their blade had sliced across your cheek; a failed attempt to decapitate you. Your brows furrowed slightly as your fingers moved into your hair, finding it crudely cut near the bottom of your ears. You looked at him, mustering the panic you felt into your expression. His eyes softened in guilt. “I’m sorry. I had to hide you rather quickly after you passed out. It worked,” he mumbled the last part.

You swallowed; the dryness of your throat felt like sandpaper as you opened your mouth to speak. “Where’s my bag?” You croaked; your voice as foreign to you as the man sitting before you.

He wet his lips as he sat forward in the chair, settling his feet on the ground and his elbows on his knees. You watched his muscles flex as he moved. You could tell he was no stranger to manual labor, and by the slight dusting of sunburn painting his nose beneath his freckles, you figured he usually spent more time outside. The sunspots reminded you of your friend, Dream; a man that now helped to lead the tetrarchy dismantling the kingdom.

“I’ve hidden it. Just until I know you won’t kill me, or until you’re better,” he answered plainly. “I know what nightshade can do.” You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, your fingers curling around the soft blankets covering you. He stood, sticking the book into a spot in the array of shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. “I seem to be sheltering our local Locusta, huh?” He quipped.

You wet your lips. “Just because I travel with nightshade doesn’t make me an Emperor killer,” you grumbled, watching the way his shirt gave little heed to his strong frame. The curtains moved in the slight breeze swirling into the room.

The man moved toward you, dragging the chair closer to your head. “They sure went after you like you were,” he stated bluntly.

You perked an eyebrow at him. “From one point of view, it could seem like that…” you jested.

He smirked slightly, shaking his head before pulling back your covers. You almost shrieked at the sight of all the bandages twisting around your limbs. You wiggled your toes, sighing in relief that you paralyzed from the waist down. If you didn’t move, you didn’t hurt, but as soon as you angled yourself upward to lean on your elbows, your whole body protested in pain. The man skimmed his fingers along the bandages wrapping around your shin. You could practically feel the heat of his body seeping into your own.

You watched his delicate fingers smooth an edge that was ruffled from the sheets and you moving about. “This one was rather deep,” he commented, his fingers then traveling towards your side as his ruby eyes danced from yours to your bandages. Your breath hitched at his closeness, his presence commanding. “A friend of mine helped me stitch you up over here.”

“Were you the one that dressed me?” You snarked, letting your eyes travel the length of his body.

He chuckled lowly, pulling the blankets back over you and sitting back in the chair. He tucked some of his hair away from his face, kicking his feet up on the bed again. “I had to,” he answered. You chewed on your bottom lip, your eyebrows giving away your slight flirtations. You knew he was only humoring you because you were his injured little bird. “I’ve seen a naked woman before. Calm down,” he grumbled.

You smirked, tucking your arms behind your head. “Oh, you have now?” He bit into the apple he was holding, the blush creeping to his eyes not going without notice by you. “How long have I been out, oh great Asclepius?” You joshed, making him chew the inside of his cheek.

His eyes drifted towards the window in thought before slightly furrowing his brows. “Just over a week,” he replied. “Should I be concerned about your knowledge of Roman history over Greek?”

You scoffed, partially in disbelief for how much time had elapsed, partially in response to his question. “Should I be concerned of your favoring of Greek history?” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Perhaps we’re just destined to be emulations of each other then?”

“Maybe so,” he concurred. The stoicism of his façade seemed to crack around you. As he smiled at you, he bore small fangs, something that seemed all too familiar to you. Your mind began to race, attempting to place his features with a name or, at the very least, a legend.

Your mind clicked, Dream’s voice flashing into your mind from when the two of you were sitting in a tavern, discussing the Blood God of the western woods. Your heart began to pick up speed as reality had settled in of how vulnerable to you in front of such a beast. Your mind ran blank and cold as you looked at him, suddenly terrified that if you dare close your eyes again, he would kill you.

You had not expected him to be so… alluring. You’d heard stories of his piglin appearance, his wild tusks, and even cloven hooves. The man before you looked like a character pulled from an ancient storybook, not someone who had torn some of your acquaintances' limb from limb. Dream always mocked a prayer to the old gods each time his name was mentioned. They told stories of the man in orphanages like the ones you’d been passed between.

Now, as you sat like a wounded animal in the gaze of the Blood God, you wondered which of the pair of you would kill the other first. “Not feeling so chatty anymore, Locusta?” He teased.

You could feel the color draining from your face. “I know who you are.” You swallowed harshly. “Why did you help me?”

He sighed, chuckling to himself. “I thought you were pretty,” he teased. You folded your hands on your chest, looking up at the ceiling once again. “I no longer live up to my legacy,” he answered.

“I’m a killer.” You turned your head to look at him, receiving his indifferent expression head-on. “I could kill you.”

He wet his lips. “I could kill you,” he mirrored. “Wouldn’t it be more fun if we didn’t, though?”

You stared at him blankly. “Is this a trick?”

He scoffed. “I would have left you out in the snow if I planned on killing you. I would have given you up when the Royal Guard came knocking down my door,” he paused for a second. His eyes analyzing you as you controlled your breathing. “I would have slit your throat at the sight of the Mad King’s mark. Trust me, I have no intention of killing you.”

Your fingers reached to brush against the branded scar on your shoulder; a triquetra knot symbolizing your loyalty to the Mad King and his sons. It set you apart from the normal guard; you were an advisor and a trusted associate of the King. After the fall of the monarchy, you’d been on the run because of it. What you’d once worn as a badge of honor was now proving to be the sigil of your downfall.

Despite your mellowing fear of him, your mind searched for answers. “Who are you if not the Blood God?” You questioned, the silence between the two of you breaking hesitantly.

“Techno,” he replied, his eyes searching your face as if he were looking for your approval.

You pushed yourself to roll onto your side, gazing at him with calculating eyes, wanting to understand him completely. “I like Asclepius better,” you whispered.

[mythicamagic]

May I have one for "just wait for me here." "It's not like I can go anywhere." please.

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, staring across the sunlit glade towards a peculiar sight. His brother’s miko was acting strangely. She stood, clutching her bow tight- knuckles turning pale from the force of her grip. She tentatively used one end to feel around the grass, before prodding the ground with her shoe and inching forward.

Although they shared the same clearing, Kagome didn’t look up, nor acknowledge his presence.

Sesshoumaru gave in to curiosity, not particularly concerned about an enemy but too intrigued to ignore this display. She jerked when his boot crunched on a twig.

“Stay back!” Kagome snarled, voice shaking as she whipped her bow up defensively.

Sesshoumaru bit back a chuckle. What good would a mere bow do as a weapon without arrows? His humour soon abated however, staring into her murky blue eyes that gazed just over his shoulder.

Ah, I understand.

“W-who’s there?” she stammered, fear clouding her scent.

Inuyasha and her friends were clearly absent, always so foolish. They’d left a blinded miko vulnerable and alone?

Sesshoumaru gave the quivering woman a once over, noticing a few scrapes over her bare knees. Cut rope looped around her freed wrists. That strange white and green clothing she always wore was marred with dirt, torn in various places. She’d likely been kidnapped and escaped her captor on her own. Mildly impressive.

Still, she was nothing to do with him. Sesshoumaru turned on one heel.

“S-sesshoumaru?” Kagome called out tentatively. The words became firmer, more confident. “Sesshoumaru...wait. Please.”

The Daiyoukai paused, looking at her sightless blue eyes. “How is it that you knew who I was?”

She released a short, hard breath, clearly relieved to be speaking with someone. “I’m getting better at sensing stuff, I guess.”

“Hn,” he frowned, “and your eyes?”

Kagome touched her cheek, curling in on herself a little, “a demon blew a powder into my face and it blinded me. He kidnapped me...but I managed to get away. I just hope its temporary, ya know?” she gave a nervous giggle, despair threatening to take her under. Sesshoumaru hummed, attention drawing away to the forest surrounding them. He knew these woods well, and there was nothing around for miles. No villages nor clans. Just wild flatlands that eventually led to the mountains. She’d certainly ran a long way.

“I know we’re not friends- or even allies,” Kagome mumbled. “You’ve got no reason to help me-”

“That is correct,” he silkily agreed.

Her pretty features tightened with barely concealed frustration, amusing him. “But I’d owe you, hugely, if you just drop me off where Inuyasha can find me. I promise I’d return the favour- tenfold!”

Sesshoumaru chuckled, rather liking his position in this situation, studying his immaculate nailbeds in an unnecessary show of disinterest. “There is nothing a human could give to me that would be worth my time- nor do I need a favour.”

Blowing out a frustrated hiss of air through her teeth, Kagome stepped forward, gazing in his general direction. “So you’re going to just leave me here?”

“As previously established, miko,” he purred in a low tone. “We are not friends nor allies. Are we lovers?” he teased.

She instantly turned red, barking; “in your dreams!”

“Well then, if we are not friends, allies nor lovers, I have no need to heed your cries above those of the ants I crush beneath my feet when I walk,” Sesshoumaru turned away again, heading in the opposite direction.

“Wait!”

The desperate crunch of feet thundering through tall grass reached his ears, though the demon lord kept pace. Something knocked into his side- and Kagome stumbled, before latching tight onto mokomoko, wrapping her arms around his furs and hugging them to her chest.

Golden eyes widened at her audacity, pressing a palm against her forehead, trying to extract her from his person. “Off.”

“No way!” she twisted and tried to bite at his hand, narrowing sightless eyes. “Don’t be so heartless. At the very least, leave me at the nearest village- jerk!”

“You are doing a poor job of endearing yourself to me, wench,” Sesshoumaru lifted his hand, resting sharp claws against her damp forehead, slick with sweat. He prodded warningly. “Release this one.”

Kagome shuddered but refused to let go. “I-if I do, I’m as good as dead anyway,” she murmured, tightening her grip. “Please.”

Sesshoumaru flirted with the idea of releasing acid from his nails and reducing the nuisance into a pile of melted flesh and bone. However, even while blind- those blue eyes managed to fill him with a strange sense of intrigue. If this woman died, he ludicrously felt that the fates would turn their wrath upon him, not that he heeded the threat of any higher powers. She was so unusual in appearance, word and deed he could not help but think her a special existence, but even were she ordinary, Sesshoumaru felt his world would become less amusing without her presence in it. Encounters with Inuyasha would prove somewhat blander.

Sneering, his claws lowered. Continuing to walk with no acknowledgement of her trailing form hurrying after him, Sesshoumaru allowed her to hang onto mokomoko like it were a lifeline.

----

Kagome focused on keeping her footing, stumbling after the silent Daiyoukai. His furs pillowed her cheek, comfortable and silky. From what she could tell they’d left the wilder grass behind, her muddy loafers crunching on twigs and dry earth.

They didn’t talk often and she didn’t give voice to her exhaustion, closing her eyes after a while since it did little good to keep them open, her world endlessly black.

She tried not to fall prey to the dark feelings of dread and worry threatening to claim her, lingering on the outskirts of her tired mind. She’d come too far to give up now.

Kagome bumped into something solid and stopped. “What is it?” she mumbled.

“I am going to rest for the night.”

“Oh…”

His voice sounded a little light, which meant he found something entertaining. “I take it you are going to cling to me throughout?”

“Y-yeah, can’t have you running off on me.”

“Hn, if that is the case, measures will need to be taken.”

Kagome wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Nonetheless, she faithfully followed when he walked on, having little choice in the matter.

Warm, stuffy vapour began caressing her skin, rendering it slightly damp, her hair curling from the humidity. It began closing in around her like a shroud, the air thinning a little. Lapping water reached her keen hearing.

“Hot springs?”

“Indeed.”

Mild alarm raced through her bloodstream. Kagome squeaked- feeling herself being lifted up, a single hand grabbing her by the scruff and yanking so hard mokomoko was successfully pried from her grip, sending her flying through the air. Kagome cried out when water rushed up to meet her, warm and lulling, closing over her head. She quickly found her footing on the bottom of the pool and pushed up, sputtering as she broke the surface.

“You jerk! What the hell?!”

Sesshoumaru answered with a lofty chuckle. “You cannot expect to sleep near me while wearing such dirty clothes.”

“Throwing me into a hot spring isn’t the answer though!” she growled, splashing the water in his general direction, though she had no idea if it made contact or not.

“Hm? Would you have preferred being stripped bare to shudder against me all night long?” he suggested offhandedly.

“Of course not,” Kagome gritted out.

“Then I suggest you start bathing yourself, miko.”

Hesitating, Kagome wrestled with herself. The sound of his boots stepping over rocks and drawing further away loosened her tongue.

"J-just don't abandon me here, okay?"

He halted. "And what will you do if I decline to listen?"

"I'll haunt your ass once I'm dead."

"Hn."

He continued on, his answer not exactly assuaging Kagome's fears. With little else to do but tentatively trust him, she stripped out of her uniform and bathed as best she could. Without the use of soap or a sponge and being unable to see the dirt being washed away, it would likely be an unsuccessful bath. She tried her best to make herself 'clean', scrubbing at her uniform for good measure.

The silence was heavy, only broken by the sound of gently lapping water. She had no idea what time it was. How far away Inuyasha and her friends were. Kagome shivered, hugging her arms to her chest. She began to feel paranoid, suspecting the slightest sound. Dark youkai reached out, brushing her senses.

Kagome exhaled in relief, hanging onto Sesshoumaru’s aura.

“Step out of the water.”

She stiffened at the abrupt sound of his commanding voice. “And let you see me naked? No thank you.”

“There is no point in assuring you that I will not- since you cannot see if I am being truthful. I can merely promise that my curiosity about the human form will never be acted upon.”

Kagome flushed red. So he could look He just disliked humans too much to ever be ‘interested.’

She reluctantly supposed she had little choice in the matter. Standing, Kagome waded through the hot waters towards his voice, reaching out to feel for the side in order to climb out- only for her hand to be ensnared, captured by lithe fingers.

Kagome’s hazy eyes widened, climbing out with the aid of his grip, quickly covering herself with both arms as soon as she were able. “M-my clothes are wet…”

Something wrapped around her body, and she recognised the material to be a short towel. Quickly drying herself, Kagome paused when new, silky material nudged against her cheek. “Dress in this once you are done,” Sesshoumaru’s low voice rumbled.

Since she could sense his strong, dark presence linger close, she wondered if he were watching out for enemies or just plain watching her. Kagome fumbled with the silks, feeling around for the collar. Sesshoumaru’s rumbling chuckle made goosebumps race over her bare skin. She nearly bit out a comment- feeling hot breath fan over her forehead. His single arm nudged at hers, guiding her hand through a sleeve, before holding the parting open, allowing her to slip it on. Kagome blushed wildly, groping for the obi and hurriedly tying it at her waist.

A cool hand stilled hers once she was done, cutting into the rough rope still bound around her freed wrists. Kagome murmured her thanks.

“Where did you get the yukata?” she mumbled.

Mokomoko bumped her chest and Kagome held onto it reflexively as Sesshoumaru strolled away, the furs guiding her forwards. “I have many bases littered around the countryside, should I need to make use of them for trysts or shelter.”

“T-trysts?” she squeaked. “Is this clothing from...?”

“Do not worry, foolish one. That is an unused article of clothing. I keep them in case my lovers are in need of a spare change of clothes. I have been known to be...impatient.”

She arched a brow and used her free hand to measure the length of her sleeves, touching the seams. “This is a man’s yukata.”

“What of it?”

Kagome clicked. “Oh, nothing. I just didn’t know you were interested in guys.”

Sesshoumaru gave a tired, long-suffering sigh while wafting steam pulled away from their bodies, leaving them exposed to the cool air while they walked through what Kagome assumed to be a sparse forest. “Provided an individual captures my interest, gender has no bearing on who I share a bed with. It is inconsequential to me, unlike humans with your...limited choices.”

“Hey! Humans can swing both ways too. A-and look who’s talking! You’re getting all high and mighty about gender but species and blood purity matter a great deal to you. Sounds limiting to me.”

He became silent for a moment, which made Kagome feel slightly victorious. “Admittedly I have never lain with a human before,” he pretended to sound considering. “Are you volunteering yourself, miko?”

“As if,” she snorted, cheeks burning red. “You’ve tried to kill Inuyasha,” she quickly supplied as a valid excuse.

“Hn,” he gave an entertained noise, “so if we were not enemies, you would accept?”

Her mouth grew dry, feeling like she’d held her face over a flickering fire. “You’re way too arrogant to be my type.”

The sound of his quiet chuckle changed as they seemed to step into an enclosed space. Kagome reached out and touched a rocky surface, dragging her palm over it. The remnants of a demonic barrier littered the area. She suddenly stopped, yanking mokomoko and forcing Sesshoumaru to stop with her. “Have you just taken me into one of your trysting spots?"

“Where else are we to rest?”

“Not here!” she burst.

“You complain often, miko. I will leave you to the hungry animals outside if need be," he sneered. "Do not worry. This place has not seen use in a long time and is clean, I assure you,” his tone lulled into a patronising one.

Kagome held her tongue, uncomfortably settling down onto a silky bed of furs when he guided her over to it. She felt extremely weird. Staying in a place where Sesshoumaru had once had sex wasn’t exactly how she’d envisioned her Thursday going.

Something smooth and pronged was placed into her hand- and she gentled a little, quietly thanking him. Beginning to brush her wet hair, Kagome carded her fingers through the strands, making a soft noise of enjoyment.

All the while, she felt the keen sensation of being watched. Arranging herself into a more comfortable position on the bed, she sighed, gazing in his general direction. “I might be blind right now but I can feel your eyes on me. What’s up?”

“Up?”

“I mean- is something bothering you?”

“No,” he sounded briefly considering. “Rather...this one noticed your ears.”

“Hm? The fact that they’re round compared to yours?”

His thumb and forefinger closed around the sterling silver stud pierced through her earlobe. Kagome stiffened, soon relaxing. “Oh, my earrings? They’re not a big deal.”

“They are different from what I have seen before,” he stroked the shell of her ear consideringly, making her shiver. "I wish to test something.”

Since the demon lord had been magnanimous enough to offer shelter, provide new clothing and allow her to tag along with him, Kagome decided to indulge his curiosity. She sensed him move and root through something nearby, a box, she assumed.

I wish I could look around, her lips pursed, exceptionally interested in what one of his hideaways looked like.

“Remove the earrings.”

Nodding, Kagome fiddled with them, taking them out and rubbing her ears slightly. Removing them always felt weird. An inquisitive claw brushed her ear, and Kagome swallowed, holding still with mild confusion as Sesshoumaru donned her with new earrings. When he pulled away, Kagome brushed her fingers over them, finding some sort of stone dangling from her ears. They were cool to the touch and weren’t too heavy, a nice weight.

“What kind of stone are they?”

“Never you mind,” he rumbled, something tickling her brow. She wondered if it were his bangs sliding forward. Soft breath fanned over her nose before it pulled away. “Merely wear those for the duration of your stay. They suit you.”

Kagome tilted her head slightly, “well...okay? They’re not a keepsake from an old flame, are they?”

“No. Those are mine.”

She hummed, touching them again. “You can keep my earrings if you like. They can be my way of saying thanks. They kinda look like diamonds so maybe they’re to your expensive tastes.”

Even though they’re fakes.

Sesshoumaru made a rumbling noise that she assumed was positive, and wondered if they had been his true aim all along. She figured that would be all for the night- before feeling a touch against her hair. Kagome paused, fighting an exasperated smile. Who knew Sesshoumaru could be kind of… cute?

"Anything else?"

"Hn, your hair would suit this kanzashi. Hold still."

Kagome got the feeling their dress-up session was going to take a while.

---

When she awoke, the permanent darkness made it difficult to know exactly what time it was. Only the birds chirping in the trees outside let her know dawn had broken. The heat at her back that had warmed her throughout the night was gone. Kagome sat up, touching her bed hair and refusing to examine what the warmth had belonged to.

"Sesshoumaru?" she rasped.

She heard him shift and stand within the cave, "I sense something nearby. Wait for me here."

"It's not like I can go anywhere," she quipped, smiling slightly.

He made a noise of acknowledgement, walking away. His footsteps became softer until they disappeared completely. Kagome felt unnerved by it.

She reached out with her aura, but this time there was no assurance from his dark youki. Kagome steadied her breathing, trying not to freak out.

Strangely, the darkness was giving way to something. Murky shapes. Browns, whites and buttery yellows. Kagome’s heart burst with gladness.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “It wasn’t permanent...thank God.”

She could see! Well, kind of. Colours were back though, and shapes were sure to follow.

A commotion was happening outside though. Distant cries could be heard, along with familiar shouting. Kagome stumbled to her feet, following the light source out into the open despite the lack of solid objects yet.

Inuyasha’s loud voice broadcasted his location, making him easy to find- a bold red blur to Kagome’s eyes. Other colours were nearby, purples, blacks, pinks, yellows, oranges and greens.

“Guys!” she breathed.

The murky shapes turned, sharpening slightly into hazy focus. She registered Inuyasha’s horrified features. “K-Kagome...what the hell?”

She blinked and frowned, wondering what his problem was. The Hanyou rounded on a white shape that had sprinkles of red mixed in. “Hey, bastard! Why the fuck is Kagome dressed up like that? W-why does she reek of you!”

Looking down towards a nearby puddle, Kagome crouched and squinted, curious about what Inuyasha was babbling about. Her face came into focus, and her lips parted in surprise.

It wasn’t just one kanzashi, a few were nestled into her fall of curling wild hair. They glittered in the morning light. Some made of ivory, the others were black and adorned with gems. The blue of her eyes linked beautifully with the sapphires hanging from her ears. Everything paired well with the yukata he’d given her, which was white with illustrated ocean waves and smoky clouds patterning its hem and sleeves.

After enduring kidnapping- stumbling about blind for many hours, falling into ditches and streams and not knowing if she would live or die- Kagome couldn’t help but appreciate being swathed in finery. It made it feel a bit...pampered. Happy.

“Kagome, are you alright?”

She raised her head to find Sango and the others drawing closer, Inuyasha was still engaged with a verbal sparring match with Sesshoumaru that would likely head south soon.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, Shippo’s cute face appeared near hers, clear as day.

“We were worried!” he exclaimed. “We couldn’t find you anywhere after Inuyasha caught up with that demon goat and killed him.”

Nice to know my kidnapper is dead, she thought dryly, murmuring an assurance to Shippo but soon standing. She hurried closer to Inuyasha just as he took out Tetsusaiga.

“Hey- stop,” she called firmly, grasping his trailing sleeve. “That’s enough. Sesshoumaru took care of me last night, that’s all.”

“Took care of you?” Inuyasha paled, ears pinning back.

Kagome turned red. “W-what? What’s weird about that? Nothing happened!”

“Then why are you dressed like- like...that!”

Sesshoumaru gave a velvety chuckle from where he stood further away, tilting his chin up and curling his lips with an air of disdain. “I amused myself with your miko, Inuyasha, that is all,” he sneered. “She struggled so sweetly beneath me when I forced the clothes on her.”

“Bastard!” Inuyasha snarled, confused when Kagome stepped in between them. She glared first at the Hanyou, “Quit it- both of you! You’re acting like children!”

Turning her dimmed sights on Sesshoumaru, she struggled to see him clearly since he stood further away. “I don’t know what you seek to gain from lying but...thank you for all that you’ve done up till now,” she murmured. “My offer still stands if you need a favour.”

Inuyasha blustered behind her, shouting up a storm. Kagome muttered a ‘Sit’ to get him to quiet, straining to hear Sesshoumaru’s reply.

To her surprise, with Inuyasha briefly incapacitated, Sesshoumaru drew closer. The sweep of his brows, regal nose and cupid’s bow of his lips caught her dazed attention- her breath halting. Familiar diamond style studded earrings adorned his ears.

“These will do nicely as payment, miko,” he rumbled.

Kagome blinked and slowly smiled, sharing a quiet moment with him. “I-I suppose you’ll want these back,” she murmured, closing her hands around the sapphires on her ears.

“I have plenty more.”

“Right, of course you do,” she giggled, hearing Inuyasha squeak out a ‘did you just giggle at Sesshoumaru?!’ from his crater.

“Hn, as I said, they suit you,” Sesshoumaru turned. “And miko?”

“Yes?”

He began walking away, but she could hear the smile in his voice without seeing his expression. “You have captured my interest.”

Kagome’s eyes widened, heart bursting into overdrive. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies, and she felt a mix of confusion and anticipation.

Ditto, she thought with a faint smile.

[fweasleyswhore]

Commitments - Smut

pairing: Oliver Wood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley x fem!reader (no incest just sharing)

a/n: I would like to do a pt 2 to this because I just have so much more I can fit into this dynamic and I like it (hornhee disease really takin over)

word count : 4.9k

warning: smut, 18+ themes, face fucking (male recieving), oral and fingering (female recieving), unprotexted sex -wrap before you tap kids-, choking, dom/sub themes, slight bdsm themes, subby reader, titles are given, its pure filth, friends with benefits relationship

mature readers only, this has heavier themes in it and i only want people who are completely ok with those themes reading

My head pounded and my stomach growled. It was the first feeling I registered as I opened my eyes. I was cold, hungry, and in pain. I blinked a few times, pulling my head up from its position on the table where I had been napping. I focussed my eyes on my unfinished potions essay. Groaning I rubbed my eyes. Not only did I not finish it, but I also fell asleep. It was due in two days and I had barely started. I still needed to-

Quidditch Practice. The potions essay fell to the depths of my mind as I scoured the library walls for a clock. Unsuccessful in finding one, I decided I was probably only late. Shoving my papers into my bag I ran out of the library, ignoring wandering stares from students I made my way to the changing rooms.

The door flung open and slowed down for the first time, panting slightly I made it over to the lockers, ready to get out my equipment. I picked up my shaky hands to do the combination when a voice interrupted me.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Oliver spoke. Based on the volume of his voice and the slight temperature change in the air, he was right behind me. Pulling my bottom lip between my lip I turned around, his toned chest was dripping, a towel hung low on his hips and his hair was ruffled slightly and damp. Our bodies were merely inches apart and I could see the anger in his eyes as I looked up at him.

 “Ollie…” I tried but my nickname for him only caused an annoyed look to grace his features.

“Don’t,” His voice was stern and it made me feel cold. “You knew how important practice was today but you skipped anyway. We play Slytherin in two days! Where were you? Giving our play strategies to Adrian Pucey probably.” He rolled his eyes and walked next to me. He turned his attention to his locker, presumably to get clothes as I was left there with my mouth feeling dry and a ball of guilt in my stomach replacing my hunger.

“I fell asleep in the library, I don’t have an excuse,” I spoke truthfully and watched my hands as I spoke afraid to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I dozed off. I really am sorry.”

He sighed and I wished at that moment I could crawl inside myself and disappear. “L/N, I don’t play favorites, you know this, but you are an essential part of this team. In this practice, we were working in groups, Fred George and I practically sat there the entire time because you were missing from our group. The other chasers were running well-needed drills and we had devised a strategic plan that would push not only you but the three of us too and you weren’t there. Today’s practice was a waste of time for us.” His words hurt me, they were filled with anger and it wasn’t a feeling he had ever directed at me.

“Ollie I truly am so sorry. I know this and I wish there was anything I could do to make it up to you. I know how stressed you are about the game, I just, I’m so sorry.” I finally looked up and he was facing me again, his locker forgotten. He was close to me again, his body heaved as he breathed heavily.

“Stress relief?” He asked, causing me to furrow my brows. Before I could ask him what he meant he spoke again. “You are right, I am stressed, that’s why I’m asking if you will help me with stress relief.”

I nodded understandably. I couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to my face as I realized what he was asking for. “You want me to massage your shoulders Wood?” I asked teasingly. He let out a short breath before taking a step forward. He toward over me, our chests almost flush as his hand caressed my cheek. His touch was sending shivers down my spine and butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Oliver was a good friend of mine, I always left my lingering eyes on him for too long but never admitted my feelings for him. I wasn’t sure if they were real feelings or pure lust. Being on the quidditch team I was never sure if I liked him or seeing his half-naked body as he ran down drills.

“Not what I had in mind,” I bit my lip as the nerves began to build up. His hand trailed down my cheek and under my jaw which he grasped semi firmly, pulling my face up to his. Our lips met in a messy heated kiss. I gasped into his mouth as my hand found its way to his neck pulling him closer to me. His legs parted my own and he pushed his hips flush against mine. An unintentional moan slipped from my mouth at the contact but that didn’t stop him, if anything it fueled his motions. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, it was a short fight that he quickly won. He pulled away suddenly, my face remained in his grip, the stern hand he had on my face caused my lips to part slightly. I looked up at him, blinking my lashes and grinding my hips softly onto his leg that was positioned in between my legs.

“I want this but I need to know you do too.” His voice was usually cheery but now it was stern and low, a side of him I had never seen and god I wished I did sooner. I pushed my hips down with more force, the friction finally hitting where I need it most and I moaned.

“Godric, yes Oliver, yes, yes, yes.” His gaze was cold and his face didn’t change when I gave my answer, instead he pushed his thigh harder into me, adding pressure I didn’t know I needed. “Fuck.” I whimpered shutting my eyes.

“Tsk, Tsk,” He tutted, pulling my eyes open I looked up at him. “If you continue to have a dirty mouth like that I’ll fill it up. Understood?” Growing wetter at his words I nodded feverishly. “Words darling.” He pushed his thigh into me harder. I let out a short breath, trying to compose myself.

“Y-Yes Sir.”

“Good girl. Keep being good maybe I will forget about the punishment I had planned for your absence.” I let out a whimper at his praise, the promise of punishment striking my core, had he thought of this before? He smirked down at me as I began to rut my hips against his thigh. Occasionally he would pull his leg back causing me to whine only to push it back with more force than before causing my legs to lose feeling as the pleasure built up. We were so wrapped up in our display we didn’t hear the two prominent footsteps grow closer until they were right next to us.

“Bloody hell.” Geroge’s voice interrupted. I opened my eyes and pulled Oliver against me to shield myself, in doing so I could feel the prominent bulge that formed under his not so restraining towel. “We heard Y/N came to the locker room and Fred and I were half sure you were killing her, not…” He trailed off and I watched as his eyes looked me up and down, my hair was no doubt a mess and Oliver’s leg was still in between mine applying a wonderful but also horrible pressure to my clit.

“Glad you’re not dead Y/N, but if getting off is what you wanted you could have always just come to my dorm,” Fred spoke from beside George. Leaning against the other row of lockers he looked significantly more comfortable than George, his trademark smirk plastered his face and his eyes kept flickering to where Oliver’s leg was positioned. I grew hot at his words as I looked between the twins. My eyes flickered up to Oliver who was giving both boys, especially Fred, a hard glare. Before I could protest Oliver’s hand found my hip and he pushed my hips into his thigh, pulling me forward into a rocking motion. I reacted by throwing my head back and letting out a moan, the feeling was too good to hide it. I didn’t let myself get too lost in the pleasure as I remembered our audience. Pulling my head back I eyed the boys with half-lidded eyes. Oliver was still guiding my hips against his thigh, his eyes were trained on my face as I whimpered trying to blink and focus on what was happening, my brain was fighting not wanting to stop but also worried about Fred and George’s presence.

Fred’s eyes were wide and hungry, he was still leaning against the lockers but his eyes were trained on the way my body moved. George was too watching, he took his brother’s stance, leaning on the lockers next to me. I could see two significant tents forming in both of their trousers, George’s hand slid into his pocket and he silently palmed himself at my display.

Seeing that they were enjoying themselves I let my worries dissipate, throwing my head back I moved my hips in time with Oliver’s guiding hands. Oliver ducked his head and began sucking on my neck. Rutting my hips faster I became more vocal, Fred and George let out small grunts here and there that I assume was due to their hands work which only egged on my ministrations. Soon enough the feeling became too overwhelming to bear, my legs began to shake and my breathing was becoming labored. “Ollie please, I need to-” My words were cut short as Oliver harshly nipped at my neck causing me to gasp.

“That’s not my name.” He whispered in my ear. I felt his arms stop their guidance slowing me down.

“Please Sir, please let me cum.” I begged submissively, not worried about the whine in my voice but rather the orgasm that was so close which was starting to vanish.

His hands grasped my hips with a different purpose now and he brought me back to the same speed that had me whimpering and moaning a few seconds ago.

“What do you think guys? Shall we let Y/N cum? Has she earned it?” I snapped my eyes open looking between the three boys frantically, letting out whines as Oliver applied more pressure with his thigh.

“I’m not sure she has,” Fred spoke up, he had a drunken look of hunger that made me shiver.

“I don’t think so.” George agreed.

“What a shame,” Oliver said looking down at me. “Guess you have to wait, darling.” With those few words, he held my hips firm and removed his thigh from me. I wouldn’t be surprised if his thigh had gotten wet through my trousers but I was too upset to be concerned with that at the moment. I whined lightly at the loss of contact and tried to stabilize my shaky legs.

“How can I earn it?” I looked between the boys who all adorned with wide grins. When I got no response I decided to push a little. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just get myself off.” All three boys lost their grins, not completely but their eyes went dark at my words, and they stood up straighter, they watched my hands as they trailed down to my trousers, popping the button.

“Brats don’t get rewards,” George said softly from next to me. His hand grasped mine and halted my motions, his grip was iron tight as he looked down at me. I angled my body so I was facing him, with my free hand I cupped him through his trousers.

“Then tell me what to do, sir.” I looked up at him with the most innocent face I could muster, cocking my head to the side slightly. I’m sure the markings on my neck from Oliver ruined the innocent facade a little bit but watching George swallow hard and breathe heavily through his nose was enough to tell me it was working.

“On your knees, now.” His voice was firm and it sent shivers down my spine as I sunk to my knees. My face was level with George’s clothed cock, I placed my hands behind my back and looked up at him waiting for permission. He brought his hand down, pulling my head up from my chin, he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

I smiled at the name, undoing his pants with ease I heard a slight groan as I pulled them down freeing his erection a bit. He was big, much bigger than I’ve had before. I tried to swallow my nerves as I pulled him out and stroked him slowly. I wrapped my lips around his tip, circling the tip with my tongue that elicited a moan from above me. I smiled and began to take him, or as much as I could. He hit the back of my throat before I got to his base, I gagged lightly and began to bob my head, stroking what was left with my hand. I felt a foreign hand in my hair, straining my eyes I looked up to see Oliver pulling some strands of my hair back. I rubbed my thighs together my arousal building to extreme heights.

“Fuck,” George moaned. He pulled out enough so his tip rested against my lips. “Do you think you can take all of me?” I stroked him slowly as I thought to myself.

“Will it get me my reward,” I asked in a sweet tone. He opened his mouth to reply so I kitten licked his tip, twisting my wrist as I continued to pump him. His words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he hissed.

“Definitely, and if you stop being a brat it will probably get you two.” I smiled at his response and pulled back my hand, opting to rest both of them on my thighs. Opening my mouth I relaxed my jaw and stuck my tongue out. George took his dick and slapped my tongue with it a few times.

“Such a good girl, so ready for me aren’t you, whore?” He asked with a devilish smirk. I nodded and let out a small involuntary whine at his words.

“Such a little slut, you’re gonna let him use you like that?” Fred asked. He walked over, his dick now free from its restraints he pumped it slowly. He ran his fingers through my hair, grabbing it tightly and pulling my head back to face him, his harshness made me whine and I squeezed my thighs together, growing wetter. “You like this don’t you? Such a dirty girl.” He let go of my hair and my head fell forward, George’s dick slapping my cheek lightly in the process.

“Our dirty girl.” Oliver praised smoothing my hair. I smiled before opening my mouth again, making eye contact with George to let him know I was ready. He smiled and slid in slowly, I wrapped my mouth around him and tried to maintain my composure as he began to slide down my throat. I gagged lightly which caused him to groan and go deeper. I breathed out through my nose as my eyes began to well up, I closed them and focussed on keeping my throat open for him.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my thigh, opening my eyes, blinking some tears away. I could make out Fred smiling as he kneeled next to me. I shut my eyes spreading my legs for him. He dipped his hand into my trousers tracing my lips from outside my panties. I moaned at the contact around George making him groan.

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you, completely soaked for us,” Fred whispered in my ear pushing my panties to the side. I moaned again which caused George to pick up his pace. I was gagging and tears were streaming down my face but I was enjoying it so much. Fred circled my clit with his nimble fingers making me gag and moan more but I didn’t care. George’s thrusts were becoming erratic and I knew he would come soon. Purposely swallowing around him caused him to meet his end. He buried his dick inside of my throat, my nose pressed up against his abdomen I moaned, swallowing his cum that shot down my throat. He pulled out of me, a trail of spit followed connecting us until it broke, slapping against my chin. Panting, I gasped for air and leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder. Fred picked his speed up on my clit causing me to yell out his name. He continued his brutal pace and I felt my orgasm catching up to me yet again.

“Please, George,” My words were cut off by a moan and I jerked my head back. “Please I’m going to cum I need your permission.” Fred was chuckling in my ear from my desperation but I couldn’t care right now. My legs were shaking and my abdomen was cramping up as I continued to fight it off.

George knelt in front of me, grabbing my neck with a strong hand he pulled my head forward. I fought against my body to open my eyes and look at him. “Cum for us, cum like the whore you are.” As he spoke he increased the pressure on my neck. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm washed over me, I shook violently, screaming out I felt myself release. Fred didn’t stop his fingers, they continued his brutal pace and his smirk grew as I began to shake from overstimulation.

“Good whore.” Fred whispered pulling his hand away from my core. I leaned back against Oliver’s leg and watched as Fred sucked his fingers clean. Oliver looked down at me with his dark eyes, filled with lust and hunger. Fred linked his arm around my waist and pulled me up. We walked over to a bench at the end of the row of lockers, he laid me down on my back. I giggled to myself watching him struggle to pull my trousers off. My laughter was cut short as he landed a short slap to my bare pussy, I moaned at the harsh contact.

“Don’t be a brat.” He warned and I nodded. I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra. Fred inserted a finger inside of me, slowly he began to pump in and out before adding another one, I moaned at the light stretch as he pumped faster, curling them to hit my G-spot.

“Such pretty moans.” George praised. He was knelt beside me and began to massage my breasts. I gasped as he began to suck on my nipple. Pulling my hands up I ran my fingers through his hair. Oliver stood on my other side, he was slowly pumping his cock at the scene below him. I felt Fred pull his fingers out and I whined at the loss. Fred spit directly onto my clit, I felt the liquid drip down and mix with my own juices.

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” I did as he said and opened my legs for him. “So pretty, princess, are you ready for me?”

“Yes, please,” I whined out. George was now attacking my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh that took my breath away. I stopped breathing completely as Fred pushed into me. Slowly he filled me to the hilt, he had to be the same size as George. I felt him bump my cervix when his hips met mine. My mouth was open in a silent scream as he let out a slow groan. He stayed there for a moment, letting me get used to the stretch that came with his impressive size. When he felt me relax he began to slowly thrust in and out of me.

“Faster, fuck, please faster.” I moaned out. He quickly obliged by setting a ruthless pace that had my brain cloudy with the pleasure I was feeling. Oliver leaned down, kissing me roughly, our teeth clashed due to my shaking from Fred’s pace but that didn’t stop either of us.

“Such a whore, putting this show on for me, is this supposed to make me forgive you?” He asked, one of his hands trailed down my torso, he left feather-light touches on my breasts.

“Y-Yes all for you.” I struggled out. He suddenly pinched my nipple, pulling it lightly causing me to moan out loudly.

“Hm, all for me? You let them down too, it’s not very kind if it’s all for me now is it?” I nodded in agreement unable to speak as Fred propped my leg onto his shoulder, the new angle intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. “What are we going to do about that then?” Oliver asked.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. I couldn’t conjure up a sentence much less a viable answer that would satisfy him as my orgasm steadily approached.

“What a shame, it looks like I will have to punish you after all.” He whispered in my ear. I moaned at his words. Fred continued to hit that spot deep inside me that sent me closer to heaven and hell at the same time.

“I need to, please, I-” My words drowned out into a moan as Fred thrust harder.

“You need to cum, slut?” Fred asked, words spaced out with his thrusts. His hair was dripping with sweat, his chest was glistening with sweat, somewhere in the process he had lost his shirt.

“Yes, yes please!” I begged.

I could hear the smirk on his face as he replied. “Cum for me princess.” My second orgasm washed over me. My legs shook and I tightened my walls, screwing my eyes shut I let out a long moan as Fred continued to pump in and out of me, riding out my orgasm. His hips began to slow and he stopped, flush against me I felt his dick twitch, shooting long ropes of cum painting my insides.

Fred’s hands rubbed up and down my thighs, soothing their shaking. He kissed my knee and unhooked my leg from his shoulder, gingerly pulling out, I whined feeling sensitive and empty at the loss. Fred walked to the side of me, replacing Oliver who was now out of sight. He kneeled beside me and stroked my hair. “You did so good.” He praised.

George hummed softly, his head rested on my stomach under my breast where he was leaving soft kisses earlier beforehand. “Such a pretty slut for us.” He added.

“She may be pretty but that’s not going to make up for what she did.” Oliver said, he was circling his hands on my thighs, his towel now long forgotten, his erection was prominent and it prodded my legs as they shook. His tip was red and needy with precum, I could only assume how much it ached.

“Hm and what did she do?” Fred asked, feigning confusion, a slight smirk on his lips. Oliver had a smile playing on his lips as his hands trailed toward my core. He started to tease my folds, rubbing around spreading the shared release between me and Fred everywhere except my throbbing clit.

“She skipped practice, you know that.” Oliver growled.

“I didn’t mean to-” I trued but Oliver suddenly slapped my pussy, the harsh contact with my clit made me moan.

“You skipped.” He said sternly. I took that as a signal to shut up so I nodded, feeling the excitement buzz in my veins. My pussy throbbed in anticipation as his fingers ghosted over my entrance and up to my clit.

“Hm, I didn’t think about that, should I have punished you princess?” Fred asked. Before I could answer George attached his lips to my nipple, he lapped it and bit it lightly causing me to gasp. He pulled off with a pop, grinning.

“I should have bent you over my knee, showed you who you belong too.” George purred, he trailed up so his breath fawned over the shell of my ear. “Would you have liked that sweetheart? Being so marked and bruised you can’t sit straight? Everytime you sit down you will be reminded of the little whore you are for us, how you bent over willingly, swallowed my cock and came on Freddies fingers. You would like that wouldn’t you?” His voice was deep and it sent shivers through me and took the air from my lungs.

“I think she likes that George.” Oliver said grinning. “Shes practically dripping.” Suddenly he inserted two fingers into me, pumping at a relentless pace. Sounds of squeltching filled the air as he began to hit that spot inside of me, over and over again. I screwed my eyes shut feeling blissed out as George nipped my ear whispering small taunts while massaging my breasts, Fred on my other side whispering praise and playing with my hair.

“You like being used don’t you?” Geroge would ask, licking the shell of my ear.

“Such a good girl, you gonna moan princess?” Fred would add, kissing my cheek.

They continued the process until I was a writhing mess. I was about to ask for permission to cum when Oliver wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue that just sent me over the edge. I came for a third time, shaking crying out, I felt a few tears fall from eyes as he didn’t slow down until I was convulsing and my eyes were rolled back in my head. Oliver pulled back and I gasped for air now that I was given a slight break. Suddenly he slammed into me, his dick stretched me in a delicious way. I yelped at the sudden contact. He didn’t give me time to adjust like Fred, instead he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into me.

“O-Ollie.” I moaned out throwing my head back.

“What do you call me?” He growled, slapping my clit lightly and thrusting in forcefully. He halted his motions for a moment, grinding his hips into me and it felt heavenly.

“I’m sorry Sir! Please keep going!” I whined.

“Good girl.” Oliver praised pulling out an slamming back into me. He continued his relentless pace, slapping my clit and tits, pinching my nipples, occasionally leaning over to nip at my leg. I alternated between kissing Fred and George who whispered dirty things to me and swallowed the moans I left in their mouths. I felt Oliver speed up and I felt yet again that I was teetering on the edge.

“Sirs, please I need to cum,” I whined looking between all three boys. Fred and George nodded with cheeky grins and my gaze fell forward to Oliver between my legs. Oliver grabbed my hip with one hand, reaching down and grabbing my neck with the other in grip that could bruise.

“Cum then, cum on my dick slut.” Oliver grunted tightening his grip on my neck. I gave in, letting go and cumming harder than I have before. I let go, squirting onto his torso. Oliver kept pumping into me riding out my orgasm until he pulled out, cumming on my pussy, throwing white ropes on my glistening cunt. I was breathless and lightheaded, Oliver let go of my neck, my head fell back against the bench and I panted. Oliver spread my legs whistling lowly to himself.

“So pretty.” He muttered before ducking his head down and running a long stripe up my folds with his tongue. I jolted at the feeling, my body spasming as his tongue hit my clit. I felt him suck lightly and I whined. That’s when he pulled his head up, and leaned over me, his lips were in a tight line and his body caged me. He took one of his hands and placed two fingers on my chin, applying light pressure signaling for me to open my mouth. I did, sticking my tongue out as I made eye contact with him. He spat our combined juices into my mouth, some of it getting on my chin. He used his thumb to lap it up, wiping it on my tongue.

“Swallow it.” He commanded. I did as I was told, opening my mouth to show him when I was done. “Good slut.” He praised.

“Beautiful.” George added.

“Breathtaking.” Fred quipped. I felt my cheeks heat up at their praise.

“T-Thank you.” I said timidly. Oliver smiled, it was his usual soft smile that made me melt. He stood up, offering a hand I gladly took and stood with him on my shaky legs. I slipped slightly and George stood on my side grabbing my hip. I felt Fred’s gentle hand on my back offering his support should I need it.

They cleaned me up, offering support and praise every second of the way. The game with Slytherin went well, Gyrffimdor won by a landslide, and once again we found ourselves in the locker room together celebrating.

[babylooneytoonz]

bear.

pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

summary: you were mistakenly cursed by your best friend, Yennefer, when the two of you were young. Since then, at the strike of midnight, you turn into a hideous bear and run off into the woods to stay the night. No matter how powerful, Yennefer isn't able to undo your curse. One day, she meets Geralt, and so do you. However, what wasn't in the books was the fact that you found yourself falling for him. ♡

requested by: @dashingcavill

warnings: curses & folklores, Geralt being both a douche and a babe.

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[Masterlist link]

Yennefer had guests, as you were informed by one of the girls that lived with you, and it didn't come as a surprise, for Yennefer had guests visiting her almost everyday. What fascinated you was that you were always too curious to see who the visitor was, so you would sneak up on them, and spy on them until the night ended in either of the two— Yennefer falling into the man's arms and coiling herself around him like a snake, or Yennefer using her powers on him to make sure he wasn't found again.

You wondered what it was going to be tonight, as you brought your candle closer to your face; letting the faint orange glow illuminate your features and stepped out of your room, your dress flowing behind you like a trail of white poppies until you finally reached the hall, where an orgy was on full display, and you scrunched up your nose in disgust.

You were about to turn away, walk back into the warmth of the chambers that you had so eagerly left, just to see exactly who Yennefer's guests were, when you finally saw them. At first, you just saw a bard, at least he looked like one, ignoring the massive tumour like lump that hung from his throat. You could see that he was gasping for air, but it wasn't him that captured your attention— it was rather the white haired man, tall as an oak tree, hair white like snow, eyes yellow, like a lion's. There was something intimidating about him, something that told you that he wasn't a man to be messed with, yet there was something else; like an aura, an invisible one, that made you keep staring at him.

You kept watching, listening to him introduce himself as Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher and you couldn't help but wonder about the monsters that he had encountered all of his life? Did they include animals... like you?

As if on cue, it suddenly struck you that soon, it would be midnight, and this meant that you were supposed to stay away. You ran through the hallways, your heart beating wildly inside your chest, fluttering out of control. It was a race against time. Your insides had begun boiling, immense pain shooting through your body like a million needles being inserted into your flesh. You grabbed the door handle at the right time, kicking it open and stepping inside, bashing the door shut again.

If anyone was to enter your bedroom, they would find you gone already. Your window thrown ajar, your discarded clothes strewn all over the carpeted floor. They would find thick brown coloured hair like that of a bear's and they would wonder if you were attacked by a bear. But this would be someone who wasn't Yennefer, for this secret of yours was only known to her, for she had been the one to have cursed you once, when you two were just little girls. And from that night onwards, there wasn't a single night when you didn't turn into a massive brown bear, when the it struck midnight.

Geralt wasn't just a regular in Yennefer's life though; a good fuck and a bye bye. He stayed, for longer you had expected him to. Although he never seemed to notice you during the days, you sure noticed him. There were days you didn't see him altogether, and you assumed that he had gone, left for good but then after a few days you would see him again— or hear him— in Yennefer's chambers; their skins slapping together, their moans filling the air, and his grunts.

The first time Geralt of Rivia actually noticed you was a few months into his acquaintance with Yennefer. You were outside by the well, drawing out water, when you heard a whinny of a horse followed by a steady galloping. It was bright and sunny, and the sunlight falling right into your eyes forced you to use your palm to shield your eyes and squint at the unexpected visitor, only to see Geralt's mare, Roach, come to a halt a few meters away from you, and Geralt leaping off it.

Geralt was on his way back to Yennefer, after having fought a bruxa that was tormenting the villagers of a nearby village and all he wanted to do was be in her arms again. It was Yennefer that managed to break through the brooding Witcher's hard outer exterior and see him for the kind, gentle man he was from the inside. She loved him for him and that is what he loved about her. It was surprising for him when he saw a woman by the well that early in the morning outside Yennefer's home. It was still the wee hours of the morning, pale sunlight fell all over like ivory, and there weren't many people around, but she was there. Geralt frowned at this weird, foreign feeling that was suddenly growing in the pit of his something; that feeling being curiousity and the wish to just find out more about her.

As he leapt off Roach, turning to give her one pat against her side, he turned his back towards you and you couldn't help but fix your gaze on him. The fabric of his shirt was slightly ripped and you could see traces of his scars scattered all over. The Witcher turned towards you just then and immediately, you began looking away, not wanting to be caught staring at your friend's lover. A giddy feeling swept over you when you saw from the corner of your eye that he was walking towards you.

"Can I have some water?" He said to you, looking down at you, and your bucket of water and you flushed, immediately bringing the bucket towards him.

"Oh, I am sorry, definitely," you nodded, and the Witcher slowly lowered himself from the waist, as though bowing in front of you, and cupped his palms. You lifted the bucket carefully and began pouring water into the cup of his hands, letting him drink his stomach's fill.

When he stood up again, you could see the corners of his mouth were glistening wet, as he eyed you carefully, examining you through his golden orbs and you couldn't help but feel flustered. It made you begin feeling self conscious and unknowingly, your palm flew to the side of your face, clumsily struggling to push your loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"Who are you?" You were pulled off guard, for you hadn't expected this. All this while, you had sheltered at Yennefer's place, you had always kept to yourself, and not many bothered to be interested in knowing about you; at least none of her lovers. Biting on the insides of your cheeks, you seriously hoped that he wouldn't catch on the growing reddish hue that was taking over your face. But you had no idea that the Witcher can listen to your heart right now, that it was racing, beyond control, and if Geralt was to concentrate on it, he would totally think that your heart will leap out of your body and land across his feet.

"Me? I'm..[Y/N].. Yennefer's friend.."

Geralt kept watching you for a few seconds before he nodded in your direction, choosing not to reply before he slowly turned your back towards you and began making his way inside. You just kept standing there, watching him like an idiot, a small wave of a smile displayed against your lips.

It didn't happen with the blink of an eye, but rather, your journey of losing yourself to the Witcher's charms was a journey of months. From that day that you gave the Witcher some water to drink, you ran into him a countless number of times. Some of them were innocent, when you would just run into him at Yennefer's mansion, while leaving your chambers, or recklessly running down the halls. Lucky for you, Geralt never managed to step out of Yennefer's chambers around midnight, so he never found out the secret that you had hidden from the world.

Some of the run ins, were however, not so innocent, especially when you almost ran into him when he was relaxing in the bath, his naked body glistening under the flickering torch, his arms spread out around him, resting against the edge. He regarded you from the corner of his eye, his eyes ablaze but you couldn't decipher what was running through his mind.

"Where's Yen?" He asked, his back facing you, his fingers moving aimlessly over the surface of water.

"She's.. I saw her in her chambers. She was speaking to one of the mages," you mumbled awkwardly, struggling to keep your eyes trained to the ground, but it wasn't very easy. And it was definitely not easy when Geralt suddenly stood up, naked, his body glistening and droplets of water falling down his perfectly shaped butt before he slid out of the bath, and began striding towards where his clothes lay.

You couldn't keep your eyes off his perfectly toned, muscular back and the way his tight butt moved as he walked off. Even when you knew that he knew you were watching him, you couldn't help yourself be captivated by him. Geralt didn't admit it but he was secretly enjoying it, and for the same reason, his movements were incredibly slow, when he reached for his leather slacks and slid it on, slowly, yet teasingly. He still gave you the view.

In that moment, you were thankful for the distraction— of Yennefer walking in. But what you missed to see was the look of malice the way her dark eyes narrowed at you, glancing from you to Geralt's naked form.

"You're done already, love? Couldn't wait for me?" She purred, as she glanced at you in an obvious way, as though silently asking you why were you here. She regarded you top to bottom, licking over her lower lip as she began stripping, right in front of your eyes.

She loosened the buttons around her chest, popping them one by one before she lowered the neck of it, revealing her glistening skin. You looked away, as she slid the dress lower and lower, until it fell gracefully against her ankles and she stepped out of it, naked.

Geralt growled at the sight of her, and you, embarassed beyond your wits, fled as fast as you could, before their moaning filled your ears and you couldnt remove those sounds from your ears.

"Well, fuck," Geralt cursed under his breath, his shoulder slightly hanging now as he tried to reposition himself after the blow he had taken from the striga in the woods.

It was as if the creature was laughing at him, it's teeth bared out towards him; inviting him. Geralt spat under his breath,just when the striga charged at him once again, screeching in a high pitched tone, the heavy body of the cursed monster almost making the earth beneath it shake. Geralt's sword was ready to strike, but the creature played a move. Right when the striga was close enough, it leapt in the air and took a leap, taking the Witcher by surprise.

It's massive claw struck him and he flew back, flying through the air until he was lying flat against the ground.

The cursed monster hissed and snarled, and Geralt could feel it making its way towards him, but the shooting pain in his body had temporarily had him frozen and a little slower.

He didn't understand what happened after that, but whatever did happen, it bought him the time to get back to his senses and regain his lost strength. When he stood up again, he saw that the striga was engaged in a fight with a massive bear. It was just a normal bear for him, claws sharp as it tried to scratch the striga but even the bear seemed to be of no match to the cursed monster. The bear had scratches over its front legs, and it's chest.

What Geralt didn't understand was that the bear looked at Geralt, and blinked, and Geralt couldn't help but feel something incredibly familiar about those eyes, as if he knew the person lurking behind those eyes.

The moment didn't last long though, for the bear was clawed at by the striga, and tossed away. The poor animal whined in pain, but slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of the wounds on its furry body.

Geralt snarled, taking advantage of the distracted striga, who was already making its way towards that injured bear; he leapt to the ground, rolling on his back and got a hold of the sword he had dropped. Blinking, he took a deep breath, and aimed the sword right towards the striga and let it swoosh through the air. The aim was perfect, the blade of the sword struck the striga right at the base of its neck, piercing into the rotting flesh as the cursed monster stumped to the ground, dead.

You whimpered slightly as you struggled to lift your heavy animal form up, but the cuts on you were scorching in pain, causing you to groan and whine with every little movement you made. You stiffened entirely when you saw the dark eyed Witcher stand tall above your head, only to kneel down next to you, and grunt, "Who are you? You are not a bear."

You growled at him, your sharp teeth bared out at him, but he didn't waver. He just kept looking at you; dead into your eyes.

"Geralt,may the lord's have mercy on my poor soul- where exactly are you?"

Jaskier stepped on a tree branch, crushing it unknowingly, the sound of it following his voice. Geralt muttered a low curse under his breath and he stood up, his hands on either of his hip as he glared at the bard, "I told you to wait by Roach, Jaskier." Jaskier parted his lips, ready to reply but his eyes suddenly caught the sight of you and they widened in fear, watching you slowly struggle to stand up.

"Geralt, why is there a bear behind you? Geralt— "

"that's not a bear," Geralt deadpanned, turned away from you.

"Are you blind? Would you look at that? That is a bear— " He suddenly turned towards you and hissed, "— And it's running away now."

Geralt cursed much louder now, his head turning sharply back. He suddenly began running after you, but you, even in an injured form, were fast and were making a distance already.

"Geralt, why are you running after that bear?" Jaskier shouted, but did not follow him.

Geralt simply shook his head, and muttered, under his breath, more to himself, than to the bard, "that is not a fucking bear."

It felt like a million daggers had been ripped through your flesh. It felt like you didn't have the energy to even open your eyes. Finally, after a lot of effort, your humanly form opened your eyes. The first thing your eyes fell on was the hearth that was warming you up.

And then they moved to your bare feet, that had scratches all over it. Someone had applied a green, now dried up herbal paste to it.

Suddenly, it hit you like ice cold water, and you suddenly remembered it all. How you had tried to fight the striga, and how it had almost killed Geralt.

Geralt.

Your eyes travelled to the shirt that you were wearing, the only fabric that was covering your body. And it didn't take you long to register who it belonged to; owing to the fact that it was too big for your much tinier frame as compared to him.

You buried your hands into your face, embarassment and guilt filling you up. He must have seen you transform, from that bear to this form, which is why you had his clothes on.

"You're awake."

Your eyes lifted, slowly meeting his yellow orbs. He had just entered into the cave, and was holding two logs of freshly cut wood. He knelt down in front of the fire he had made to keep you warm and began placing the logs.

You bit the insides of your cheeks and tried to adjust yourself more comfortably, but the wounds on your chest ached, making you wince. Geralt looked up.

"Don't move. I patched you up."

You blinked, squinting your eyes slightly until you were balling the fabric of his shirt, looking at him.

"You saw everything? Didn't you?"

He stood up, and grunted under his breath, before he made his way to you, and knelt down next to you. His fingers grabbed at the fabric of your shirt, which was clinging to your wound, pulling it away, his eyes fixed against yours, "Who did this to you?"

"No one," you shook your head, and tried to look away, but Geralt's voice snapped you back towards him.

"Yennefer?"

"She didn't mean to. It was an accident," You blurted out.

"I knew," he muttered under his breath, and looked like he was in a thinking.

"I want to go home, Geralt. I'm tired." You began to put the weight on your legs as you tried to get up but pain shot through your body and it made you hiss and fall back again.

"You're hurt, [Y/N]," he rasped, and before you could protest, he was already sliding his thick, veiny hand underneath your thigh, and in one sweep, he had you in his arms.

When Geralt stepped out of the cave, you realized that it was already shining bright outside, and almost half a day was already over. You slid your arm delicately around his neck to hold on to him as he casually, and effortlessly carried you down the rocky terrain. The first few minutes were quiet, and you could feel the Witcher's questions but he didn't ask you.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, you heard him, "How can I lift this curse?" He briefly looked down at you, and you swore you saw a look of gentleness in his eyes as you looked at you.

"We tried everything. There's no way. I'm cursed for life."

His eyebrows twitched, and his nostrils almost flared, in anger. He looked away, forcefully, so that he could concentrate on anywhere but you. Finally, after a minute of giving you a squared jaw, he lowered you on a rock, and turned away from you. Fixing his hands on either of his hips, he turned his back to you, and you could see the scars on his naked back, full displayed to you. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his scars, wanting nothing more than to draw your index finger over each one of it, "Well fuck, I don't buy it. Someone can do something," he barked.

"Well feel free to try, because I've tried and it didn't work!" You yelled back at him.

Suddenly, much to your surprise, the Witcher lowered himself to squat in front of you, his palms fixed on your bare knees, as you only had his shirt on. Before you could understand what was happening, the Witcher grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you into him, his lips slamming against yours. The kiss was passionate, his lips as though in a battle with your lips, struggling, wrestling for control.

At first, you were shocked, but in minute or so, your body relaxed, the knots slowly loosening, as you began melting into the kiss— until Yennefer's face popped into your mind.

You broke the kiss in the midst, and pushed him away, glaring at him, throwing daggers at him with your eyes, "What the fuck, Geralt?"

He just gave you a serious look, as he lifted himself up again and began trying to lift you but you smacked him hard in the chest and he jumped back. You grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to you, "Why did you kiss me?"

He blinked, giving you a look, before he grabbed your arm, and pulled you closer, so you were chest to chest with him, "I wanted to."

"I'm a monster," you whispered back, but you were so close to him, you could feel your heart race, and so could he.

"You saved me." He said, huskily. Slowly, he reached for a loose strand of hair dangling by your side, pushing him behind your ear. After a short, momentary pause, he whispered, against your ear, "be mine."

You could feel tears pool in your eyes, and you didn't dare blink, afraid he will see them. You shook your head at him, trying to act defiant, but inwardly, you were weakening, "You don't want me. I'm cursed, and I'm gonna be cursed all my life."

"And I'm a Witcher, you think this isn't a curse?"

His words threw you off guard; you werent expecting it. Yes, you were aware how people his kind were treated, but atleast he wasnt cursed.

"They still need you, even if they hate you," you whispered, looking down.

"And I don't need you?" Geralt fixed his index finger over your chin and lifted your face up so you were meeting his yellow orbs that had fire lurking through them, "Don't care if you turn into a bear every fucking single night."

He suddenly bent and picked you up once again, bridal style, but this time you didn't protest. Instead, you had a humongous smile drawn to your face. Your whole body hurt, but you didn't care.

Geralt's words rang through your mind, again and again.

be mine.

"One step at a time, Geralt of Rivia," you said to him, and he just smiled to himself, his lips only crinkling lightly but you knew he was smiling even though his eyes didn't match yours this time.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

And I Will Hold Onto You

Summary: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note/Warnings: Body Image Issues (Male) nothing too descriptive, prison arc is mentioned/is central issue; loosely based of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Also this is technically a part 2 to Drag Me Head First but it doesn’t have to be read that way.

And I Will Hold Onto You

There’s something special in the way that the first midnight of the new year feels. All that hopefulness and excitement packed into a 10 second countdown. The energy in the room slowly bubbles up, culminating as the ball drops. It fizzles out as loved ones share chaste kisses and friends hug. But all that remains are last year’s bottles and this year’s dreams. Maybe it’s something that Spencer always took for granted.

The cold midnight air is jarring, compared to his warm and cozy house. Spencer walks quickly, taking out the trash, filled with bottles of beer and wine. The snow crunches under his shoes and Spencer can see his breath in the air as he huffs to toss the bag in the black trash bin. Spencer, despite the way the cold air nips his nose, stops in his tracks and gazes up at the stars. It’s unfortunate living where he does, you can never really see all the stars. Maybe Y/N would like to take a trip in their cabin the next time he can get off? He could show her all the stars. But Spencer doesn’t need to go to the middle of the woods to see the stars; he can simply look into Y/N’s eyes and see all the magic the universe has to offer.

Spencer lets himself back into his house, just as Garcia and Derek are putting their shoes and coats on to leave. Y/N comes out of the kitchen carrying two trays of leftover food for their friends to take home.

“Penny, please kiss those sweet babies for me,” Y/N says, handing Luke the trays of food. She leans over to kiss Penelope on her cheek.

“They can only sweet when they are sleeping,” Penelope says, rolling her eyes and putting her coat on. It’s more of a cape in a spectacular plum purple color with cream colored faux fur trim.

“Don’t act so surprised, mi amor, look who their mother is,” Luke says, cheekily. He hugs Spencer and Y/N before grabbing Garcia’s hand with his empty one.

“Happy New Year!” Garcia and Luke call as they leave, shutting the door behind them. Spencer locks the door and heads back to the kitchen to help Y/N clean up. The plates sit in the sink piled high, with tall champagne glasses resting next to them on the counter. Glitter scatters on the floor, confetti in the shapes of “1s” and “6” lay littered on the tiles, remnants of the festivities just moments before.

Y/N stands over the sink, her hand rests on the ledge. She turns on the water and starts washing the dishes. Spencer walks up quietly behind her, nuzzling his hand into the corner of her ear and shoulder. He hums, the vibrations echoing into Y/N’s neck, causing her to giggle. He joins his hands together around Y/N’s waist, holding her tight.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Spencer whispers, his voice hardly audible above the stream of water. Even though Spencer can’t see Y/N, he can feel the way her cheeks grow against the side of his head. She’s smiling.

“It is a very happy, new year,” Y/N says, her voice strong, yet Spencer can tell it’s hard for her to keep it together. It’s not their first new year, far from it, it’s their 13th. But this time, it feels different to hold her in his arms and kiss her as the clock strikes 12.

They wash the dishes in silence, a comforting silence where certain things don’t need to be said. Like a well oiled machine, Y/N washes, Spencer dries. The sudsy dish soap smells like home and Y/N’s quiet hums sound like peace. Spencer really forgot how much he could love even the most mundane of tasks when Y/N stands next to him.

“Come on, Y/N we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just go to bed,” Spencer says, tugging on Y/N’s long sleeve of her thermal shirt.

“Hmm, I can’t argue against your cuddles, sweetheart,” Y/N murmurs tiredly, easily pushing the thoughts of clean up to the next morning. Her hand joins his, like a key finding it’s matching lock. They are cold from the water, but Spencer doesn’t really mind.

A tangle of limbs and hands, they make their way up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They pass the wall filled with pictures of their smiling faces or candid countenances in mismatching frames hung against the wall. It’s just a testament to how long they’ve been together, going back to their first date right before Y/N’s college graduation and Spencer’s fifth, leading up to their most recent Halloween. Each photo stuck in time, frozen with utter happiness and unadulterated joy. But there’s a gap in the collection, a gap that Spencer rather not talk about. A gap where, for the first time since they met, Spencer and Y/N were separated. Sitting in jail, all Spencer could think of was the personal mental prison that Y/N must have confined herself too.

They don’t like talking about the gap, but he knows they have too. Spencer knows that Y/N is proud of him, she tells him that everyday. Proud of him for keeping up with therapy, proud of him for letting go of the little things that he can’t control, proud of him for trusting her with his secrets and fears. It’s the strangest thing, to have someone be proud of you for just living.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall,” Spencer says, hoping that his attempt at referencing pop culture would land. Y/N stops to turn to Spencer, who in the moonlight that drips in from the window, looks much younger than he really is.

“Did you just make a pop culture reference that’s not from, like, 300 years ago?” Y/N says, her brow upturned in a quizzical stare.

“Come on, Y/N, you love when I recite all Sir Walter Raleigh to you,” Spencer says, reaching up to tickle Y/N sides, causing her to giggle and run up the rest of the stairs.

“Spencer! You know that I’m too ticklish,” Y/N says in between short laughs and gasps for air. She plops down on the bed, dragging Spencer down with her. He lays his head down on her chest and like a Rube Goldberg machine, her fingers come up and tangle themselves in his hair.

“Maybe our New Year’s Resolution should be to get some more exercise, Spence. Your heart is beating faster than mine and that run from the steps to our room is like a good 10 feet,” Y/N jokes as she continues scratching Spencer’s scalp lulling him into a peaceful, sleepy state.

“Two things, baby, one, we don’t exercise and two, that’s not why my heart is beating so fast, I think it has something to do with the beautiful girl laying so close to me,” Spencer murmurs quietly.

“Hmm, you certainly know how to charm a girl, even like 13 years later,”

“Actually it’s, 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 31 seconds,” Spencer says with a quick glance at his watch.

“And I’ve loved every single minute of it,” Y/N says, reaching up to sneak a pillow under Spencer’s head. She moves to get out of bed, much to Spencer’s displeasure.

“No, no, Y/N you’re so warm and I’m freezing,” Spencer whines, shifting so he can look at his wife, who has shrugged off her thermal shirt and jeans.

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N chides. Spencer, almost bashful at her teasing, attempts to hide his blush with the pillow that rests under his head.

“I only turn the heat all the way down at night so we’re forced to cuddle for body heat,” Spencer says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So you say,” Y/N tells Spencer, sitting down back on the bed. She pulls on Spencer’s legs, dragging him down the bed.

“Come on lazy boy, get your PJs on,” Y/N orders. Spencer, who under Penelope’s less than pure supervision, had enough shots to make up for all the college parties that he missed. There’s happy drunks, forgetful drunks, and then there're sleepy drunks.

Spencer stands in front of the mirror, inspecting his body. The low, yellow lamp light casts shadows on his naked torso. He’s filled out a little bit since they’ve started dating, especially within the last few months of Spencer’s healing. Y/N knew that it’s a sore spot for him, but there’s something about the way that Spencer’s dress pants sit tightly against his thighs or the way his shirt clings to his stomach that just makes him look so much older. Both of them, including their bodies, have changed so much since 13 years ago. Or 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 18 hours, 5 minutes and 12 seconds ago. They’ve grown up together, and now Y/N can’t wait to grow old together.

But the look in his eyes is not pride over his growth or confidence over his physique. It’s confusion. Spencer stares at himself like he’s an unsolvable puzzle. Y/N knows he must hate that; Spencer hates things that he can’t find an answer to. Y/N walks up behind him, lacing her finger together so her arms clasp against his waist. For a moment, Spencer flinches. Even her gentlest touches and softest kisses can’t wash away the fear of much harsher contact. Their eyes meet in the mirror, but Y/N can feel that Spencer’s not looking at her. After all these years, she can still see the terrified young man who brazenly kissed her in her car in the middle of a rainstorm. After all these years, Spencer is still the only man she ever loved.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly. His name off her lips is more tender than any pet name in existence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m being immature, it’s just,” Spencer closes his eyes, trying to focus himself in the present. It’s something that his therapist suggested. In moments of distress, find your anchor. Luckily for Spencer, his anchor has been his anchor for quite awhile.

“You can tell, I’m not going to judge you,” Y/N says, her lips leaving small kisses on his exposed shoulders.

“It’s just I thought this whole nightmare of prison was behind me. Therapy has been helping, I’m better on cases and I love teaching,” Spencer says, the pain in his voice leaking out.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead she guides Spencer to sit on the edge of their bed. She rubs her hand down his back, tracing his spine and around the freckles that collect on his right shoulder.

“I thought that the emotional healing would be the hardest part, I mean it is, but physically, I don’t recognize myself. I can imagine you don’t either,” Spencer says, he turns to lay on the bed, bringing his feet up to his chest in a textbook self-protective position.

“Spence, your body is gonna change, baby. God, mine has changed so much since we met,” Spencer gives Y/N a confused look, like he’s not thoroughly convinced by her explanation.

“It has Spencer. We’re not 22 years old anymore, we’re going to be like 35 in a couple of months. But you know, this is something we can work on together, I’ve gone my whole life not loving the skin I’m in. But being with you makes it easier, Spence.” Y/N says, running her fingers across the bridge of Spencer’s nose and down to his lips, that always a ridiculously gorgeous shade of pink. Spencer doesn’t say much, he’s still trapped deep inside his mind.

“I don’t know how you put up with me and all my antics, Y/N”

“You do my taxes every year,” Y/N jokes, making an effort to kiss every freckle and dipple on the expanse of Spencer’s back.

Spencer turns in the bed so he’s facing Y/N, he cups her face all the way from her ear to her jaw. It’s an intimate gesture that somehow is more loving and vulnerable than saying “I love you,”

“You know you make me fearless, Y/N,” Spencer tells her, not blinking because he doesn’t want to miss out on any more time looking into her eyes.

“You say that everyday Spencer Reid,” Y/N responds, letting herself melt into the touch. She grabs onto his wrist, physically telling him to not let go.

“I have a lot of days to make up for,” Spencer says, solemnly.

“It’s not making it up if it’s the rest of our life, Spencer. Besides, there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Day cleaning up all those bottles with,”

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