#i'm sooo looking forward to writing the two of them

[moonstalk]

maria & jesse for @nocityfolk !

the sharp sting in maria's wrists was a reminder of the brutal hours she'd spent strung up. she could feel the raw skin, the slick warmth of blood seeping from the torn flesh as she finally managed to loosen the ropes. a metallic taste coated her tongue, either from the coppery scent in the air or the bile threatening to rise with each inhale. the room was dark, its foul stench suffocating and unmistakable—death had made a permanent home here.

a shudder wracked her frame as she dropped from her binds, knees hitting the dirt-caked floor harder than expected. pain shot through her, but she swallowed it down, listening intently to the footsteps echoing from above. they were a haunting reminder of what waited beyond the next creak of wood or turn of a doorknob. each step felt like a countdown, pushing her further into the shadows that swallowed the corners of the room.

it was then that she noticed him. suspended like she had been, struggling against the ropes cutting into his skin, face half-hidden in the gloom. maria’s breathing came shallow and rapid as her gaze darted between him and the ceiling, tracking the steps with the precision of prey.

reaching out, fingers trembling and raw, she pressed her palm against the rope binding him. it wasn’t easy; every movement made her bones scream and muscles threaten to seize. but she worked at the knots, loosening what she could until the tension gave way just enough for him to help himself.

❛ shh, ❜ she whispered, eyes wide with urgency, the shadows around them quivering. her hand went to her own mouth, fingers smearing blood across her lips as she stifled any sound. the smell of rot and decay burned the back of her throat, but she pushed the panic down. they couldn’t afford noise. not now. not when the footsteps were so close.

[thebluester2020]

[SDV] SDV Bachelors x Reader With Big Tits

Give your thanks to @angelsfics221 !

Summary: The SDV Bachelors (+ Maru ) being horndogs over the reader/farmer having a huge pair of personalities.

Warning(s): Pure horny energy from the jump, Masturbation, The guys are big tit fiends ngl, Top! Reader (In Maru's part), Whiny Alex + Sam (I kinda always write whiny Sam though)

Side Note(s): As a member of the big titties club. I'm a certified PHD at this topic (And the fact that, once you have a rack, you sign away any rights to doing jumping jacks again—)

Hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait 😔

Elliot

Nipple sucking while giving him a blow-job.

That's all I need to say.

While I imagine that Elliot would be respectful, don't get me wrong. He's still human and he has fantasies like anyone else would! I'd like to imagine that he truly appreciated your huge personalities when summer came.

After you finished your chores for the day, you decided to take a trip to the beach and have some fun in the water! And when Elliot stepped out of his cabin to innocently read on the pier—

He didn't even notice he had dropped his book when he saw you. Your two-piece almost seeming to struggle holding your tits in as you lightly kicked at the water and splashed in it.

Each time you bent down to scoop water into your hands, blissfully unaware of the man whose eyes were practically glued to your figure. The writer felt like he had been transported to heaven and back.

He knew he had to talk to you and that he did!

A conversation that went sooo well that you were more than happy to tour his small cabin and let him appreciate your figure from a whole lot closer than the pier.

♡ - Elliot's mind was dizzy with lust and shame.

Usually, he'd have more decorum than this.

He'd first get to know a person, learn their hobbies and interests as well as their personality long before the idea of sex even dared to cross his mind, much less think to slip from his tongue! But with you? It seemed like all manners just went out the window.

That first glimpse of you at the beach was enough to make his knees buckle and his book fall into the salty water below, immediately forgotten about in the face of your breasts threatening to slip from your bikini with each movement you made, but now? As he relished in the feeling of your hand tenderly stroking his dick as he sucked at your nipple, his hand gently massaging the other and eliciting sweet moans from your kiss-swollen lips—he could really care less about manners and decorum.

Especially with how he struggled to delay his orgasm to enjoy this moment even longer. "Such gorgeous tits..." Elliot moaned against your chest, not wanting to part from your nipple for even a second.

Your face flushed at the compliment before a drawn-out moan left your lips when Elliot's hand went from your breast to your aching sex, his finger quickly finding your hard clit before he began to gently pet at it. Your hips bucked forward unconsciously, a shudder running up and down your spine as you moaned breathlessly at the light touching Elliot delivered onto you.

You were briefly snapped from your mind slowly losing its grip on reality when Elliot suddenly hissed, causing you to quickly realize you had gripped him too hard. "...S-Sorry..." You said. Before you could move your hand from his cock, Elliot's hand shot down to grab your wrist before he guided you back to his leaking dick, briefly parting from your breast, his eyes dark with lust. "I'm...fine." He said, having to inhale deeply between each word.

"Squeeze me again," Then, he immediately returned to your breast, lightly nipping at your nipple. When Elliot felt your hand began to squeeze his cock, gently rubbing him up and down, he bucked up into your hand as his mind wasted no time swarming with even dirtier thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. He desperately wanted to know what your tits would look like, how they would move when he fucked you, he wanted to mark them up, pinch and knead at them as if he were playing with a toy.

And he knows you'd let him do whatever he wants with you.

You were all too eager to shed your clothes and let him kneel before you before he all too quickly sucked and massaged your breasts, like a devotee worshipping their goddess— "F-Fuck..." Elliot whispered against you as he felt his orgasm creeping up on him. "Baby...please."

Your cunt clenched at his light begging as you then lightly smirked, your ministrations on him quickening much to the writer's delight. He grasped onto you tighter, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline and the only thing keeping him from descending into the depths of madness. Babbles of "pleasepleaseplease" and "I'm so close, don't stop" fell from his lips as easy as water would from a broken dam. You were so engrossed in his begging, you hadn't noticed he had came until he suddenly threw his head back to let out a loud unfiltered moan and warmth covered the top of your hand.

You looked at his twitching dick, his cum seeming to flow out from his tip endlessly until Elliot finally relaxed against you.

You couldn't let this be a one-time thing, and neither could he! You both were definitely going to keep in contact with one another.

Sebastian

Shockingly, I think he'd be the least horniest on this list.

Like yeah, he's not going to say no to groping and sucking a pair of huge tits but I'm standing firm on the hill that he's either an ass or thigh man.

However, when y'all had reached the stage where you two were dating and you eventually brought him over to your house?

As he watched you bounce up and down on his dick, the plapping noises alongside your tits moving in front of his face nearly made him cum on the spot.

To him? He felt like he had suddenly been placed right in the middle of a porno and the idea of marking up your tits was wayyyy too irresistible to him all of a sudden.

♡ - He felt like he was losing his mind by the passing second.

Drool dribbled from the side of his mouth, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he watched the arousing sight of you using him as if he were your own personal dildo, bouncing yourself up and down his cock. "Fuckfuckfuck...!" Sebastian whined as he gripped your thighs even tighter.

His moans and whines only fueled you to go faster before you fell forward a little, placing your hands on either side of Sebastian's head as you gripped the sheets and fucked yourself onto him even harder. "S-Shit...!" You cried out. "Sebby...your twitching so much," You breathlessly teased him, the rest of your words dying in your throat in the face of your boyfriend's dick practically sending you to an entirely different reality. But, while Sebastian's cock made you dumb in the skull...heart eyes nearly formed in Sebastian's gaze as his vision was locked onto the way your breasts moved up and down in front of his face.

Now, he didn't consider himself a boob man and was more into your thighs and ass.

However, he'd think something was wrong with him if his mouth didn't water at the sight of your tits moving in his face. Unmarked and practically begging for his mouth to latch onto them.

Which is exactly what he did.

"Fuuuckkk..." He groaned deeply, lifting his head ever so slightly to latch onto one of your nipples. As he begun to suck, he grunted when he felt you clench even tighter around his cock, nearly making him cum right then and there before pushing aside the feeling in the wake of wanting to enjoy your tits even longer as you fucked him. And especially how you looked at him as he did so. The darks of your pupils nearly took over the color of your eyes as you fucked yourself even harder onto him.

"So cute Seb~" You praised before you gasped when you felt his cock twitch inside you again.

You knew that he was weak to your praises, even in a more innocent setting, when you'd praise him for something so simple such as taking out the trash for you. He'd blush and turn his head away so cutely! But now? As he sucked and lightly bit on your nipples, his grip on your thighs tightening by the moment as he started to lose control and gently fuck up into you...the sheer pleasure of his cockhead touching the deepest parts inside of you, you knew that he deserved wayyyyy more praise for making you feel so good. "My tits are enough to make you like this?" You continued to speak, biting back your moans as much as you could to push out your words. "If I knew this, I would let you kiss and suck on them as much as you like Sebby—" Sebastian responded with a groan before it weakened into a whine, one of his eyes cracking open to look up at you as his pace quickened even more, the force of his thrusts punching out even more moans and whines out from your lips.

Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head. "Shit...!" You gasped. "Just like that...! Keep fucking me juusst like that~!" You moaned as you lost control in your arms a little, your tits squishing against Sebastian's face even more than they already were.

And that was enough to break the poor man as both of his hands suddenly wrapped around your torso while his feet dug into the bed, his hips suddenly pistoning up into you as he fucked you like he suddenly hated you. Tears of pleasure began to escape from the corner of your eyes as you felt the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten almost painfully as you begged for your boyfriend to make you cum over his cock.

"S-Sebastian!" You cried out as you tits squished even more against him, your hands tangling themselves in his hair. With one last thrust and muffled moan, he suddenly stilled against you just as the knot inside you snapped, a sharp gushing sound splitting against Sebastian's abdomen and thighs as you both blanked out momentarily from your respective orgasms.

And when you started to come back down...you were the first to quickly lift yourself so you didn't accidentally smother your boyfriend. "S-Seb?" You stuttered, a combination of sudden embarrassment and still trying to come back from your orgasm. "I didn't mean to smother—"

He interrupted you with a shake of his head as his grip around your torso tightened once more. "Let's do that again."

Sam

I'm pretty sure all of y'all are familiar with how cartoon characters' eyes will bulge out when they someone they like, right? Yeah, Sam's eyes do that the moment he sees you for the first time.

One day, he was riding through town on his skateboard before he briefly heard Lewis mention the new farmer in town to someone! Sam had no clue what you looked like but he at least hoped you were friendly.

So imagine the way he absolutely eats dirt when he sees you for the first time.

Gorgeous and with a pair of tits that were nothing to scoff at? As he dusted the dirt from himself, he nearly cursed himself out for embarrassing himself in front of you without even getting a chance to say hello yet!

Luckily, you were laidback and friendly, only smiling briefly as you helped Sam up and introduced yourself in the process.

You were sooooo sweet. But god it was hard for Sam to keep his eyes on your face when faint droplets of sweat were rolling down your neck before disappearing into the valley of your breasts. It had him struggling to breathe and wishing that the pleasantries would end soon so he could go home.

All so he could fist his cock to a porn video of a woman that looked suspiciously like you

Until he gained the courage to speak to you again + got over the guilt of fucking his hand to the new farmer in town who had only arrived a few days ago. You were a star feature in every single daydream he had of you (which was nearly every day at this point) while he moaned out your name in his bedroom.

♡ - "Oh Yoba..."

Sam was currently in his room, all of his lights turned off and his phone at the lowest possible volume as he fisted his dick under the covers, all as his eyes were glued to the screen held in his hand. Earlier today, he had the pleasure of meeting a beautiful new face in town!

You.

You seemed so warm-hearted and friendly...and you were oh so pretty as well. But...what really caused Sam to be fucking his fist like some depraved pervert to the new farmer in town? Your huge tits, they alone were the reason he fell on his skateboard in front of you and made a complete ass of himself! Although you were kind and helpful to him (adding only more fuel to the fire of him suddenly lusting after you), as you bent down to help him up, your shirt revealing the tops of your breasts did nothing to help quell the boner that was suddenly raging in his pants.

Which is how he arrived at this very moment, looking at a porno of a woman whose breasts resembled your own all as she gave a boobjob to a dildo. The woman's face being covered only added to Sam's imagination as he could easily think of the woman being you and...instead of a dildo, it was his cock instead that you were slowly dragging your tits up and down on— "O-Oh fuck..." He cursed breathlessly, the bitten part of his shirt falling from his lips as Sam's breathless moans escaped from his lips.

His eyes began to burn with unshed tears of pleasure as he watched the woman's movement begin to speed up, his hands speeding up in order to quickly match the pace before the woman began to speak. 'She sounds nice...' Sam thought absentmindedly until his mind drifted back over to your face, coated in light pretty make-up with an accentuation to your lips.

He squeezed the head of his cock at the thought of your lips gently suckling his cockhead as you rubbed your soft tits up and down him, your half-lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes while the faintest hint of a smirk could be seen. At another time, Sam would've felt mildly disgusted about what he was doing, he barely even knew you and yet he was pre-cum was leaking from his tip so much at the sheer idea of you treating his cock so well.

Sam's head sunk further into his pillow as he felt his orgasm quickly approaching, the hand that held his phone falling out of his hand before he began to massage his leaky tip. "Y/N...!" He panted even louder. Electricity felt like it was dancing throughout his body as his hips bucked up into his hand in search of more pleasure, the blonde's mind only filled with one single thing.

You, you, you, you, you.

How pretty you were and how gorgeous your tits were as you helped him stand back up. How friendly you were and how much he wished that his cock hadn't ruined the conversation the two of you were having, he desperately wanted to talk to you more...see where things went and— "S-Shit...!" Sam gasped, managing to give his cock a few more strokes before he felt strings of ropey cum hit his abdomen. As he gently fell back from Cloud 9, he released a breath he hadn't even known he was holding in before he relaxed.

Once he was free of his embarrassment of falling in front of you earlier today and masturbating to you despite barely even knowing you to begin with. He'd definitely work up the courage to speak to you more.

Harvey

Very respectful, very demure. He's not blind to the fact that you have huge tits but he's not going to go wild over them (to your face)

But when the time comes for you to have your yearly wellness check. I have a feeling that's his favorite time of the year as feeling up your tits to check for your lumps literally makes him ascend to the moon, only after making sure you were healthy of course!

But as soon as that check-up ends? Cue this man alerting Maru at the front desk that he's going to rest for a little in his room.

A quick masturbation sesh with you starring in it, all as he imagines playing and kneading your chest—he's never cum so fast.

But now he can't look at you without nearly turning into a tomato either.

♡ - A doctor should never do this.

It violated every rule in the book, even if you didn't know. He knew!

But, as Harvey currently sat on his bed, biting on his shirt like his life depended on it. His brain could only think of you and you alone, and how soft your tits felt in his hands. Like clouds almost, a regular procedure that he had done time and time again for many types of patients shouldn't have had his cock aching like this! But...you, you were different. Throughout the procedure, you had to have known what you were doing as you kept a steady eye on him as he moved the stethoscope over your chest to listen to your heartbeat.

While he stood in front of you nearly giving himself a nosebleed from how hard he was blushing, you looked at him with a soft smile without a single care in the world, as if you didn't know how you were affecting him!

And the second your wellness check was over...he was all too eager to rush back to his room, grab some lotion and tend to his leaky dick— "Miss Y/N..." He moaned to himself quietly, despite the situation and you not physically being here, he at least had enough decency left to refer to you in a respectful manner despite what he was doing. He tried not to let his thoughts sink into depravity too much, simply masturbating to the imagination of how your chest felt against him...and how much he wanted to see what they looked like without your shirt to cover them...and then if you would let him suck them— "S-Shit—!" He threw his head back suddenly to cry out before electricity suddenly sparked throughout his veins, a warmth suddenly coating his fist before he shakily looked down.

Harvey stared down at his cum-coated dick and fist in a daze for a long few minutes, he had never cum so quickly much less to the thought of someone who was essentially a complete stranger! Perhaps he was the one who actually needed the check-up...or, maybe it was best to stay away from you altogether...to avoid another bad situation like this.

Alex

The second least horniest on this list.

Not that he's not attracted to your huge personalities of course! It's just—everything about you is attractive to him. Your full figure and the mere sight of it was already enough to make him throb in his pants, your tits were just a nice added bonus.

Buutttt, when you two get to know each other and start becoming intimate, he's definitely not saying no to the possibility of straddling your torso and fucking your tits.

That night alone made him switch of to having a preference for tits ever since.

♡ - "You're sooooo dirty for letting me do this babe~"

It was a bit contradictory, he'd admit, Alex was the one who suddenly came up to you one day with the suggestion of fucking your tits! Although he was more of an ass man and was your number one fan of fucking up into you as you sat on his cock reverse cowgirl...when you'd face him, and watch how your tits would move up and down in a hypnotizing fashion—it was exactly how things got to where they were now.

Him straddling your torso as he pressed your boobs together around his girthy cock, your head turned down a little to lap at his cock each time it began to poke at your lips. The sight of you licking his tip as he fucked your tits made Alex's mouth water, the urge to cum stronger than ever but he was determined to hold back. He definitely didn't want this moment to end too soon. "Fuck..." He moaned as he leaned forward a little, bracing a hand just above your head as he began to grip the sheets as his pace sped up, your hands quickly pressing your breasts together to keep them squished around his leaky cock.

"Your boobs feel so good baby...we should do this every day, huh?"

You responded via suckling on his tip, the act alone making Alex whine as lewd plapping noises could quietly be heard from how hard he was fucking your chest, as if he were actually fucking your pussy. And his mind? He might as well have been! In this moment, the titjob you were giving him was just as addicting as the warm walls of your pussy. Each thrust was eager, every movement of his hips that brought his cock backward was followed by him rushing to thrust forward again as your soft lips were the reward.

But it was when you started to massage his cockhead with the palm of your hand that he really began to lose it. "F-Fuck—!" Alex cried out, his head dropping to dizzily look at the bedsheets as he tried to hold onto his sanity, hold onto his noises.

You definitely weren't going to have that. "Don't hold back your sounds Alex." Your voice just barely managed to reach Alex's ears over the sound of his rushing pulse in his ears and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your request made his ears began to turn red and his cheeks burn, you were supposed to be the one who was noisy, not him! But...every attempt to refocus his brain and contain his sounds, turn them from whines into groans ended in pure failure as he couldn't deny how much he was enjoying your tits. "B-Baby..." He moaned. "Pleasepleaseplease....let me cum on your pretty tits..." He begged as his rhythm grew sloppier, pre-cum practically spilling every on your chest with how close he was to his orgasm.

The sound and sight of your boyfriend being so needy, begging you to cum when it was typically the other way around nearly made you cum untouched. You were absolutely loving this!

How could you ever think to say no?

"Cum on my tits babe," You moaned, replacing the palm of your hands with your mouth. The way the flat of your tongue lapped at his slit was all it took for the dam to break, Alex's abdomen flexing as he came, ropes of his hot cum flooding your mouth before it began to dribble out the sides of your lips when it became too much for you to drink down. Yet, when he was able to, when Alex slid himself away from the warm comforts of your chest to see what he had done to you...the trails of cum that dribbled out the sides of your mouth along with the leaky trail he left along your chest and stomach.

How you looked at him as if you wanted more.

He felt himself hardening almost immediately. "S-Sexy..." He stuttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Can...we do that again?"

Shane

Your very own personal tit massager

But I feel like he'd have his own little special place in the realm of big tit enjoyers (Though it'd be similar to Alex)

Everything about you is attractive to him, whether you have a fat ass, flat ass, big tits or small tits! Nothing could turn you off for him.

With this being said though—I genuinely believe that your tits are more so a way for him to further get you in the mood rather than him being obsessed over him. He likes your huge boobs, don't get me wrong but he'd slowly massage them while thigh-fucking you slowly. He wants you to get you in the mood, make you practically beg him to stop playing with your boobs and fuck you like a whore instead!

Fast and rough sex right from the start is all fun and all but—

He definitely enjoys the wait as well, hearing you all but scream for him to fuck you is enough to nearly make him cum on the spot.

♡ - "Shane...please." You begged sweetly into his ear as your boyfriend sat behind you, gently fucking your thighs while his head sat on your shoulder, looking over at the way he massaged your boobs.

And he did so with an intensely watchful eye. The weight and warmth of your tits made him harder and harder by the second. When Shane suggested fucking your thighs while he played with your tits, it was a...prelude of sorts, this wasn't enough to make him cum and even if it was, his cum was reserved for your mouth or pussy only. This foreplay was less about him and more so you, a way for him to listen to your needy moans and imagine how dirty they would become as you would soon scream for him once he speared you on his cock.

"Y' beg so cutely honey, almost makes me wanna fuck your gushing pussy next..." He whispered in your ear, his deep voice in combination with how he lightly bit the shell of your ear making you whine as you clenched around nothing. And the feeling of his cock lightly rubbing against your cunt, not enough to pleasure you but enough to let you know that it was there just out of reach from where you needed him the most.

It was enough to nearly drive you insane. "T-Then fuck my pussy..." You panted. "P-Please?"

You pouted cutely when Shane made a humming noise as if he were genuinely considering your request. "Nah." He smirked wickedly before he gently pinched your nipple, your grip on his forearms tightening at the action. "Let me enjoy these fat tits a lil' longer honey, along with these thighs..." He sped up his thrusts to accentuate his words, the increased speed of his thrusts doing a little more to just begin to rub against your hard clit but still...definitely not enough to make you cum.

"Shane, please."

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, his brow cocking upward lazily as if he were searching for something more. He was having so much fun playing with you as he was!

For ruining his fun so early on...he was going to make you work for the privilege of his dick fucking you stupid. "So impatient," With the way he clicked his tongue, you would've almost thought he were genuinely annoyed if you hadn't seen that ghost of a smirk begin to tickle the edges of his mouth. "Y' gotta beg me better than that for ruinin' my fun hon'."

Your cheeks burned even brighter, your face hiding in the crook of his neck in an attempt to briefly hide yourself away.

Yet, Shane didn't let it last long with how his thrusts all of a sudden slowed down and his hands stopped moving. "Well?"

You took your head from his neck, looking up at him with a teary expression. "P-Please..." You started.

His brow rose even higher, a silent warning of 'Not good enough'.

"Shane...please—!" You whined. "Fuck my aching pussy, I wanna cum on your cock...i-it hurts!" The dick had the nerve to hum again! The wait was making you ache even more than ever! But, just before you were about to smack his arm out of your own fit of annoyance, Shane suddenly parted your legs to begin rubbing fierce circles on your clit, the sudden pleasure making you throw your head back to let out a shrill moan.

"Fine, fine." He chuckled.

"I'll fuck this needy lil' pussy."

Bonus! Maru

I'm not going to lie, I only included Maru because corruption kinks go brrr.

So let's set the scene like this, Maru spots the farmer and immediately gains a crush on them. Your entire figure as well as how warm-hearted you appeared to be had the poor girl head-over-heels for you in a matter of minutes.

When you finally find a chance to talk to Maru, you immediately love how shy she appears to be around you and how she tries to make it not obvious that she's stealing glances at your tits.

Butttt there's a problem. Demetrius and him being overprotective of his daughter.

So the farmer plays the long game with Maru, flirting with her which turns into Maru being out later and later to spend more time with the farmer. Which then turns into her sneaking out late at night to go to the farmer's house.

And it doesn't take a genius to know what happened next once Maru and the farmer got to that stage.

The farmer coaxing Maru into multiple orgasms while she got to suck and massage the farmer's tits!

♡ - When you first came to this town, you had never thought that you would find someone as cute as Maru. When she had introduced herself to you, the way she tried to keep her eyes everywhere but your chest was amusing to say the least, enough to where you wanted to get to know her more! You wouldn't deny that you were a fan of shy girls.

But...you supposed that your least favorite thing about shy women was the potential they had for an overprotective father.

Which Maru had.

Demetrius.

But you were nothing if not patient, you flirted with Maru and talked to her as much as you could. You hardly said a word to her before she was the one who was talking to you until the wee hours of the morning, and you definitely didn't say anything when she started appearing at your house all of a sudden! All as she confessed that she snuck out just to talk to you a little bit longer!

You blushed at the bold confession but it both warmed your heart and worried you, you liked her but you neither wanted to get her into trouble much less have Demetrius coming to your doorstep asking where Maru was when she was a grown woman.

But...you supposed it was too late to be worried about such things now.

Especially as you and Maru were currently in bed together, Maru weakly kneading your tits adorably as her eyes glazed over with pleasure as you circled and played with her clit. "Feels good, huh?" You giggled, another fit of giggles leaving your lips when she nodded her head dumbly. "Cutie...you should use your words~" You then began to slow your fingers down, shocking Maru enough for her to stutter.

"F-Feels good...!" She said. "Don't...don't stop, please?"

Maru suddenly let out a gasp, followed by a soft moan as you quickly started circling her throbbing clit once more, her slick beginning to coat your thigh as she mindlessly started to grind herself against you all as she tried to pleasure you in return via lazily sucking on your tits. Your cunt clenched at the adorable sight, especially how she looked up at you through lidded eyes but tonight wasn't about you, you were intent on giving Maru her first real orgasm with your own fingers.

And...getting her to that point almost seemed too easy with the way she was beginning to squirm, causing you to wrap an arm around her to fasten her to yourself so she wasn't able to escape. "Y' close Maru~?" You whispered in her ear, her clit twitching in response. "Your practically soaking my thigh."

When Maru tried tucking her face in the valley between your breasts, you once again took your fingers away much to her disappointment. "Why—"

"Girls who hide don't get their cunts touched," You said teasingly but with a present firmness that made your lover nod her head before her moans once again began to leave her lips as you pinched her clit. Suddenly, her mind began to spin as the pace of your fingers started to speed up, the mind-numbing pleasure in combination with the brief stints of pain you'd deliver via suddenly pinching her clit creating a delicious concoction that practically made her scream.

Until her vision suddenly blanked, your eyes widening at the way Maru squirted on your thigh as a shrill moan let her throat. You whistled lowly at the arousing sight, your mouth watering as you all of a sudden wished that you could taste it.

But...as your partner's head fell onto your chest, her body heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. Once she was finished coming down from her high...you were determined to make her cum again, this time on your mouth.

[takes1]

aaa HI OMG!!!i love ur writing . i ate UP that kuroo x hard-to-get!reader.

i have a req; could youuu… write kuroken x reader nsfw? >< u can choose the gender, established relationship, reader is sooo neeedy, kuroo/kenma both please them together and continuously praise them for taking it all so well…

>_o whatever the answer may be to this,THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!!!

p.1 kenma sharing you with kuroo

hi babes!! love this idea and it came at a good time too. this is a soft continuation of the needy!kenma fic

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / third!kuroo / established relationship / kuroo being so horny for you and kenma / crushing on kuroo / kuroo being rough / adult conversations / angsty smut / porn with plot / heavy petting / ass grabbing / getting walked in on / praise kink!reader / kenma being a great partner / 2.4k words / hopefully just a two-parter / pls reply to be added for next part!

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part two here. final part.

"Ohh-Hooo-h shit-!"

Kuroo stuttered, eyes briefly getting their fill of that pretty body perched atop his best friend- who was- god damn- far more hung than he would've guessed.

Kenma raised his voice, half-sitting up to help cover you, with an incredulous, "Dude!"

That's right- he forgot that he was just standing there, mouth open under his palm. He was checking out the way you covered your tits with one arm, and attempting to cover your boyfriend with your free hand.

His surprise morphed into a guttural laugh at his honest mistake. He slammed the door closed behind him.

You could both hear a cackling that seemed like it was generated from the walls themselves.

"You okay?"

Kenma's hand cupped your face, cooling your warm skin down. It took you back to what had been a very intimate moment.

The sudden interruption, though nerve-wracking, didn't turn you entirely off like you thought it might. You leaned into his touch, a bit of worry on your brow, but didn't demand any extra coddling.

"I'm- I'm oka-y," You kissed his palm with a shaky sigh.

It didn't need to be a spoken thing; Kenma threw some sweatpants on, careful to keep an eye on you to ensure that was the truth, and slipped out to deal with Kuroo.

Kenma held his aggravation in a more grumpy, rather than wrathful, way. Where most guys would have flown off the rails, maybe keen to pick a fight with him, Kenma shut the door softly. He kept his tone even.

The taller of the two knew it was serious when he kept steady eye contact. That didn't necessarily mean he would suddenly stop finding the situation funny, but he respected -or, at least tolerated- the idea of privacy and 'territory.'

"Why are you here?" He mumbled, accusatory.

Kuroo raised his hands with a shrug, then let them flop to his sides in a defensive motion, "I was checking on you! It sounded like you were having a heart attack over the mic,"

"-I had no idea you were..."

His looked right through him, trailing over your lingering form in the door. He bit back a smirk.

It was such a prestigious opportunity at his fingertips. If he played his cards just right.

Kenma followed his eyeline to you, clad in his shirt that barely touched your thighs if you stood up straight. Good thing you were leaning on the frame, pulling a little on the hem, waiting for him to come back. His groin ached with the need to cut this short.

His voice lowered at your presence, "-Having so much fun."

The suggestive tone, worsened by the filthy expression that always made him look somewhat guilty, had you both warm at the topic.

"Well, thank you-," You were little raspy from what you had been doing, and moved forward to put a supportive arm around Kenma's waist, slowly pulling him back towards the bedroom, a little 'Let's Speed This Up.'

"For- um, checking on him."

Your partner couldn't help but smile, a soft and distracted look on his face as he turned to press a kiss to your cheek.

Physical touch, PDA, all wasn't a big deal to Kenma. It was how he loved, both with you and his friends. Kuroo had been an enthusiastic witness to some pretty raunchy stuff, over time.

Even a blind man could see that you two were checked out of this conversation already. You moved back into the bedroom, that shirt simply not enough fabric to cover your ass.

Before you could tell Kuroo 'Thank you,' one more time, he put a hand against the door.

He wedged half of his body in, like he was trying to squeeze into an already crowded elevator. You stayed standing just a little behind Kenma- not because you were threatened, but mostly because you didn't want to get in the way of their conversation. It felt like this should stay between two long-term friends. To make matters worse, the way you felt about Kuroo was confusing, and you weren't ready to dissect it yet.

"Ah-haha, you know," He laughed at himself, unable to find the right thing to say for the first time in a while, "I- I...I joke about it a lot-- but,"

He cleared his throat, mostly looking to see if Kenma was going to stop him, in the midst of what you all knew he was going to say.

"If you're looking to... 'spice things up,'" His nervousness was secondary to that cocky smirk across his jaw, "I know a guy who's available right now."

The 'You need a third?' joke was replayed so much that you and Kenma had grown desensitized to it. Now, it was catching up to you. You wished you had talked about it, sooner.

Satisfied with leaving Kenma to speak, you looked away, but realized all your toys were still out. The sight made you squirm, hoping Kuroo had not noticed (he did), and when you looked up- they were both staring at you.

"What?" Was so quiet that it was barely a word- so you swallowed and gave a panicked look to Kenma, whom you trusted, and figured would handle this in a conventional 'No, thank you' way-, "Why are you--?"

He wasn't so confident, especially not as sure as you'd have preferred, "I mean... It- doesn't sound too bad."

It felt like a test.

"Sweet," Kuroo laughed and stepped further inside- the only one able to be so lighthearted, with no difficult questions to consider.

"Wait-wait, wait, are you--," You were trying to decipher Kenma's passive demeanor here, "Are you serious? He's your friend."

Kenma nodded slowly, eyes closed, "I know."

He sighed, and made sure to be gentle with the way he worded this and the way he delivered it. It still felt like a knife to the stomach when he turned to you, took your hands, and said:

"But, I know you like him."

Heart racing, you looked both guilty and upset, and though you tried not to look at Kuroo, you couldn't help it. He was standing still, arms crossed, with one hand covering his mouth in concentration at the scene playing out before him.

"Hey," Kenma brought your attention back to him, "Hey, I'm not upset about it- look at me, baby."

You had to sit down. How could he know that, when you didn't- at least not yet? That wasn't what you had deemed it to be. In the midst of your conversation, Kuroo quietly slipped out of the room once more to give you both some emotional space. He did not mean for it to get that serious.

You were so faint that it was difficult to hear you, even standing right in front of you. He held your face in his hands and attempted to rub your stress away.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly--," You took a shaky breath in, and tried to find the right way to word it, "I think he's- attractive, I guess, but you know I love you. You're mine."

Kenma kissed your forehead a few times, relatively unbothered, "I know. And- I love you too. A lot."

You both smiled at one another and found comfort there.

"I'm just saying... It's okay to like him, too." He was the only one who could eye contact. The concept of it bothered you, but you liked the way you were being acknowledged, and validated.

"I promise."

His thumb brushed your cheek, and he caught another pretty, but still repentant, smile.

"It doesn't bother me," He asserted one more time for good measure, and let his lips fall onto yours.

It was warm, and kind, and soft- an 'I love you, no matter what,' in physical form.

His hands shifted, gentle and slow, up into your hair, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip before sucking on it, just to close out the kiss.

"We-," You lost your breath, so you took a moment to catch it, as he straightened back up, "Um- we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Five feet away, Kuroo was silently punching the air, absolutely geeking over the possibility that after all of that, there was still a chance he wouldn't get to fuck.

Kenma wiped his mouth of the trail of spit you hadn't caught in time, a little raise on his brow.

"I just wanna try this out."

He sounded so sure. Like he was only waiting to check that you were game, first. Where was the hesitation for him? Was this something he had already worked through, on his own time?

You watched him adjust, then rub a hand on the back of his neck.

He called to Kuroo.

His head peeked through the door, "Are you guys- uh, all good, ooor?"

Kenma opened the door wide for him. Their body language was just a little off. You couldn't tell exactly how, other than the energy between them as they looked each other over. It certainly wasn't aggression, like it had been before your conversation.

Kuroo stepped inside, rubbing his palms together, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see that you made the right choice."

Two big, rough hands had you by the middle so easily, so casually, that it startled you out of your wits. The instant reaction was to shut him down like you usually did. You pushed on his forearms with an awkward laugh.

He kept you plastered to his front after a small struggle, hand guiding your chin. Having to look up was new.

"Wooah- I know your little boyfriend just said you were into me-," His lids were low, and his grip was so strong that it made you weak in the legs, "So don't act all shy."

Kuroo was only single because he couldn't keep his attention limited to just one person. There had been countless times in the past year of dating Kenma that his girl trouble was the talk of the school; so-and-so was upset with what's-her-name because she was distracting Kuroo in class. Or, he was being too touchy with his girl-best-friend while trying to juggle two others in secret.

It was a good reminder that too much attention could spoil an otherwise great, fun-loving, guy.

In your attempt to look away towards Kenma- sweet, familiar Kenma, you finally felt his comforting presence behind you.

"Well," His hands trailed over your hips, eyes downcast at the way your ass was poorly hidden in his shirt. He hiked it up, a warm palm squeezing the fatty muscle there-- you couldn't help but slip your arms around Kuroo, hiding your warm, embarrassed face in his shirt.

"She's normally pretty shy."

You felt the bass in Kuroo's chuckle resonate through your chest, and remembered how surprised you were a year ago to hear him speak. He had a voice that always felt a little too deep.

A hand massaged through your already messy hair, grounding you.

His interested, "Oh, yeah?" made you clutch his muscular back.

Kuroo watched from over your head, fisting more of that shirt up to your mid back, as Kenma pressed his clothed hard-on between your supple flesh.

It felt exhilarating, both having somebody to hold onto and a dirty observer to all your bedroom activities. Kuroo's cock was already firm, trapped under his clothes, against your tummy. That didn't stop him from grinding into whatever he could.

The height difference would seriously take some adjustment. You and Kenma could fuck standing up-- you would need a step-stool for his bigger friend.

You gasped at his another hand gripping your ass, harder, sharper than you were used to. Kenma felt so good, even confined, grinding against your folds.

"Mn-!" Was muffled into Kuroo's t-shirt.

It should've been no surprise that he fisted a handful of your hair to make you look at him again.

You shut your eyes, resisting his hold, because you couldn't stand to look at him in this context. It was too new.

Instead of letting you go, he gripped you harder, eliciting a short, "A-ah!"

He took advantage of that, too, and tried to steal the kiss that he felt owed. But you turned your head at the last second and made it into a sloppy, unfinished cheek kiss. The remnants of which remained smeared across your warm cheek.

A defeated, audibly frustrated sigh-- he lost his grip on you, and in the process, you pushed him away.

Kenma pulled you close and out of Kuroo's arms. Onto his own chest, instead.

"The fuck?" Was a pitiful groan, and a look that you were embarrassed to receive, from Kuroo. He palmed himself freely, but stared at you like you broke some sacred pinky promise.

He ran a hand through his hair, stressed, and motioned to Kenma, "I thought you said she was into me. This- this isn't 'into' me. This is- is- like, fuckin' scared of me."

"She is into you-," His grip was soft, and nice, and though firm, it was still reassuring under your shirt.

Kenma laughed, thinking, as he kissed the side of your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at Kuroo, but you still found the strong desire to show off in front of him.

"Man, you're just--," He sighed, about to finish his thought.

"Just what?" Kuroo insisted, pissed off.

"You're too rough. Just... slow it... down."

Kuroo's hands rubbed down his face, brow working hard- he looked completely out of sorts, all frazzled and distressed.

An uneven tone, still worried as he tilted his head down, sideways, at you.

"O-kay, okay- yeah, I can..." He blew out a breath, "I can be... gentle."

As Kenma slowly peeled his shirt off of you- turning you around to face his best friend- revealing everything he ever wanted to see under that stupid uniform- his mind was made of stone.

He was not going to leave without touching you, tasting you. Kuroo lost a bit of feeling in his legs; he swallowed, dry, and nodded like a dumbass, over and over again.

"Yeah...Yea-h, I can slow it down for ya," He mumbled, mostly in an attempt to hype himself up. He pulled his shirt off by the back and closed the distance, with a different approach this time.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hiii omg I love your stuff!! my eyeballs popped out my head when I saw you're writing for bucky I'm sooo head over heels for him. he look so fine in the new thunderbolts run😩

could I maybe request a lil bucky sneaking into your room at night in between his missions or smth for a quickie? 🙈 even though he's busy more than half the time, he still finds a moment or two to spend a heated moment with you; bc he misses you so much and can barely keep his hands off

tysm in advance omg omg

hii angel!! aah thank you sm🫠 tehe I know!?? love it, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIFTEEN MINUTES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 1115

warnings. 18+ only !! tiny bit of prep (f receiving) unprotected pinv, creampie. mdni

Nights at the compound were far from quiet; the constant opening and closing of doors, scattered footsteps, echoed voices - everyone on different sleep schedules.

You were in your room settling down for the night, lying in bed and listening to music, scrolling through your phone when you hear the sound of scuffling from behind your door - the silhouette of booted feet appearing under the gap. 

Unplugging your earphones, you sit up, noticing the familiar leather from under the slither of light. You fling off your covers and rush for the door, face lighting up when you see who is on the other side. 

"Bucky?!" you blurt out, clearly happy to see him. "What are you doing back so soon?" you ask, tone elated. 

His smile widens, grinning boyishly at you. "Came back before heading out again," he shrugs casually, speaking as if it were all that easy. "...was missing you," he admits, eyes diverting away bashfully. 

Your head tilts to the side, nose scrunching from his sweet confession. "I missed you," you widen your door, silently inviting him inside. "Only a little bit," you add, expression mirroring his.

Bucky steps into your room and shuts the door behind himself, closing the distance between you with a brisk step forward - leaning in to kiss you, soft and sweet. His hands settle on your waist, fingers sliding under the fabric of your t-shirt to feel your skin - flesh warm and comforting against his.

You rest your hands over the sides of his face, palms cupping his cheeks as the kiss grows more desperate. Carnal. "How long til you leave?" you ask, voice muffled against his lips, your words sounding needy. 

"Fifteen minutes." 

He walks you backwards, heading for your bed, his hands eagerly roaming you as he lays you against the edge of the mattress, slotting his lower half between your spread legs. He hovers above you, his cock growing hard and strained behind his pants, bulge nudging up into that warm spot between your thighs. 

"We can make that work," you reply, a slight whine to your tone.

He hums, far too entranced by how you feel against him to respond coherently. The rush of blood swelling to his cock, leaving his brain. Bucky peels from your grasp and stands between your spread legs, looking down at the lewd image of you - lips bruised and plumped, eyes half-lidded, t-shirt exposing the underneath of your pretty tits. 

He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level - you obscenely desperate for him and him only. Your eager eyes following his every move, looking over him like you couldn't get enough.

Your gaze hones in on his hands, watching him undo the button of his pants, his fingers slipping down the front, pulling his hardened dick from behind the waistband. You follow suit, urgently pulling down your pyjama bottoms and flinging them aside - leaving you in only an oversized tee, lying near naked under his fully clothed self.

His left metal hand takes hold of his cock, leisurely rolling it in his palm as his other reaches between your thighs - fleshed middle finger sliding up and down the slit of your pussy. Fingerpad circling over your clit ever so deliciously, mindlessly rubbing the sensitive nub.

"We don't have long, James," you say softly, hand reaching for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his meaty lower arm.

He slips off his jacket, revealing a black compression top underneath. He stands between your legs, blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now - tight, short-sleeved top, black combat pants pooling around his thighs, pretty dick exposed and on display. 

"Wish we had longer," he murmurs, itching himself closer.

"You're back in two days, right?" you say, instinctively adjusting your hips - widening your thighs to accustom his frame.

He pushes his head through the slick of your cunt, coating the tip in a soft, creaming sheen. He hums in response, his thumb resting atop his cock as he guides himself into you, easing through your fluttering walls. 

He leans over you once more, weight anchored on his hands either side of your head, dick sinking into you so nicely - just you taking him so well.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, holding his face in your hands as you maintain his gaze, your features growing pliant under his attention - eyes softening, brows knitting, expression mirroring his. You meet in the middle, lips clashing eagerly. 

"Can't you pretend to be sick?" you murmur against his mouth, speaking desperately.

He slowly begins to wind his hips into you, cock consuming you from the inside out. "I can try to get out of it," he replies, his voice hoarse and strained from the way you wrap yourself around him.

"Please do," you whisper, latching your lips back onto his - kissing him hard, moans muffling.

"Why?" he whispers back, a soft smile lining his lips. "Do you miss me?"

"No." 

"No?" 

You faintly shake your head, eyes playful and unconvincing. "No." 

He plays along. "Neither do I."

Bucky continues like that, fucking into you, his leisured pace growing rushed by the second, winding into you more ruthlessly than he would've liked. Usually, he would take the time to work you up - make love to you, kiss and touch and caress you, but with the minutes growing shorter and shorter, less and less, he had to switch it up. 

It doesn't take long for you both to cum, your climax hitting you hard; his cock almost choking you, repeatedly knocking the air out of your lungs. His release follows mere moments later, spilling his warm, thick load - sloppily pumping it into you. 

His forehead rests against yours, both of your breathing erratic, slowly beginning to even out. "Sorry, my love. I got to go," he whispers apologeticly, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

Sweetly nodding as you push his stray hairs back, looking at him with a knowing expression he's grown familiar with. 

He kisses you once more and peels himself from you, standing back between your thighs - dressing back up. He looks down at you, eyes raking over you as if to savour the image, memorising you before he goes. 

Adjusting your t-shirt, you follow after him, the patter of your bare feet trailing after him like a shadow. He reaches for the handle and turns back to face you, his soft, gentle eyes filled with warmth. 

"I'll call you when I land," he smiles, speaking like he's reading your mind. 

"Be careful, yeah?" you reach up, meeting his initiation for kiss.

"I always am."

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! :) I just really love all of your works for Hellsing and an idea popped into my mind. Could you write an Alucard x darling!Reader where Integra sends them on a mission to Brazil in disguise as a newlyweds on their honeymoon? I'm just sooo obsessed with his Riocard look, I thought it would be so fun to imagine! <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: To be honest I get you anon. He is so handsome in his RioCard form, with his little glass full of blood and wearing that suit 🤭💕💕. @marieisaghost

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, reader is unsettled by Alucard but both of them keep flirting with one another lol, mention of killing, gn!reader

"Lulu, you travel a lot, don't you?" You turn your face to stare at him, gorgeous smile already on his lips as soon as that little nickname left you. "What is it like in Brazil? How are the people?"

He thought about. Ancient as he was, Alucard was present to see or hear about all major events from humanity. And later on, to visit those same countries, as you two are doing now - hunting for a potentially dangerous vampire who climbed the stairs to the success, he was so important now, so powerful but Integra had her way of getting you and Alucard into one of his big parties.

After a few seconds pondering, Alucard glanced at his glass full of blood, long, dark hair hiding his eyes from you as he chuckled.

"The air smells like golden hour and the birds sing so loud, as if they wish for you to sing among them. The Brazilians are like fairies, if you will, as they can't lie but contour whatever promise they made with polite words and jokes. And the common folk are very affectionate." He sipped from his glass, little trinket of blood running down his lower lip before he could lick it. You laughed at that. "And their words sounds like a gentle song, so familiar yet so distante you can't quite remember where you have heard it."

The gentle hum of the plane's engines filled the cabin, the dim lighting casting soft shadows against the sleek leather seats. You sat beside Alucard, watching the clouds drift by through the small window. A moment goes by before you answer him.

"Quiet poetical, don't you think?" You mused, imagining the country based on his description. "Well, I'm looking forward to see it. We will be able to sightsee after the mission is done, right?"

Alucard turned his head slowly, he was still sipping from his glass, sometimes just shaking it to see the red liquid sway gently. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. He always found your mortal, innocent optimism endearing — if not a bit naive. But he never discouraged it outright. No, he enjoyed watching you dangle the idea of freedom, without realizing he was the one holding the string.

He was the one who chose you for this role. So beautiful and all his, pretending to be his cute little spouse.

“Sightseeing?” Alucard repeated, his voice low, filled with the silky cadence you knew too well. He leaned back further into his seat, fingers steepled together as if considering your words. “That all depends. If the mission goes well and... if you behave, darling.”

You shifted uncomfortably, pretending to be preoccupied with the view outside. Sometimes Alucard took his jokes too far, the line between truth and joke unclear.

“Well, I just thought… if we’re pretending to be newlyweds, we might as well enjoy the facade a little more!” You explained your point of view, trying to sound casual. “A little sightseeing wouldn’t hurt. Husband.”

Alucard’s chuckle was soft but dark, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a beautiful sound yet terrifying in other circumstances. “Oh, you’ve been enjoying this facade more than you admit, darling” He teased, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Playing the role of my beloved spouse… It suits you.”

His words were laced with a possessiveness that you couldn’t ignore. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you tried to maintain composure under his piercing gaze. Alucard thrived on your uncertainty — on the way you balanced between curiosity and frustration in equal measures. He loved seeing you struggle. You knew that. He was an asshole like that sometimes.

“Maybe,” You replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper and your face heating up. Ultimately it was better to let him have this little win or he'll pout and throw a tantrum the entire time. “But it’s hard to keep up the act sometimes, you’re very convincing. I fear I won't be as convincing as you are.”

Alucard’s smile widened, a dark, predatory gleam flickering in his eyes. He leaned toward you, his cold fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with a delicate yet possessive touch. He seemed like he wanted to say something, a secret passing through his eyes, black long hair hiding his face like a curtain, and then he pulled back.

“Rest now, my love,” Alucard said, his voice softer as he reclined back in his seat but the command was clear. "We still have a few hours until we get there. And perhaps, I’ll indulge you with that sightseeing you’re so fond. There's so very interesting places that are open at night.”

You rolled your eyes. "Aye aye captain."

Yoou reached out, your hand sliding around his arm and tugging him toward you. His eyes widened slightly, not in surprise but in curiosity. You didn’t say a word, there was no need. All that mattered was the closeness, the warmth, even if it came from the cold embrace of a vampire. Without a word, you rested your head against his arm, and he allowed you to whatever you wanted, his lips curling into a soft smirk as he watched you for a few seconds.

/⁠～⁠♡

The private plane had landed hours ago, and the sun now hung low on the horizon, casting the hotel room in a warm, golden glow. You stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the fabric of your outfit, a carefully chosen disguise for the next phase of the mission. The luxurious suite you were in felt almost too extravagant, too different from what you were used but trying to argument with Alucard was near impossível. And he wanted to stay at the most expensive place just for the sake of it.

Greedy vampire, you thought, he wouldn't even be able to sleep. After all, he's used to sleep at morning and you, as a Hellsing soldier, is more than used to sleep in whatever you can lie on during night. Extravagance was not your style.

Behind you, Alucard moved with quiet grace, his eyes fixed on you in the mirror. He had already shed his coat, his shirt untucked slightly, looking every bit the devilish rogue he was. He stepped closer, slipping a gloved hand around your waist, guiding you as you fumbled with the buttons on your collar.

"Let me," He asked, his voice low and smooth, as he brushed your hands away and began fastening the buttons for you. His fingers worked skillfully, but his touch lingered a bit too long. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

"You know, I can dress myself," You teased him, raising an eyebrow at him through the mirror.

"Of course you can," Alucard replied with a smirk, not missing a beat. "But why would I miss the chance to enjoy this view?" His hands slid up to adjust the collar, his eyes flickering with amusement.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Alucard chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in just a bit closer. "I’m many things, love. Impossible is only one of them." He finished with the last button, his hands lingering on your shoulders, fingers tracing the fabric as though he couldn’t help but touch you. You turned slightly to face him, a playful glint in your eyes.

"So husband, what's the plan?" You teased him, emphasizing the word, adjusting your sleeves as he watched you with that ever-present intensity. "Or you're just want to take care of everything alone while I stay helpless by your side, like a damsel?."

Alucard raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Playing the damsel role certainly is fun but not safe. Besides it's counterproductive. I'II catch our target while you search his office for those documents."

You nodded, trying to think of ways to enter the target's office, but the warmth in Alucard's eyes made it impossible. His thumb traced small circles against your waist, and though you hated to admit it, his presence was comforting in moments like these, when the mission loomed large and the stakes were high. He knew how you soothe your worries and fears with just a few gestures.

"Focus, Alucard," You said, but your voice lacked any real conviction.

"I am focused," He replied smoothly, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Just… not on the mission right now."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him just a little, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. "You’re incorrigible."

His eyes gleamed as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a low, teasing purr. "And you love it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head again as you turned back toward the mirror. "You’re lucky you’re helping with this mission. Otherwise, I’d leave you to flirt with yourself.

Alucard chuckled, stepping back slightly, though his hand never left your waist. "Oh, I can flirt with myself just fine. But it’s much more fun with you."

You met his gaze in the mirror, your reflection showing the playful tension between you two. Despite everything, the danger, the complexity of your relationship, moments like this felt oddly natural. Easy, even.

"Fine," you said, adjusting the last piece of your outfit and putting your weapons in their proper places. "After this mission and you taking me to sightsee, you should really take me on a date, Alucard. I wouldn't say no."

Alucard’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand squeezing your waist lightly. "Whatever you want, darling. But until then…" His eyes sparkled mischievously. "We make quite the team, don’t we?"

You couldn’t argue with that. Despite the chaos, despite the danger, there was something undeniably magnetic about being at his side. Even if he drove you crazy half the time and acted strange sometimes.

"Yeah," You said with a sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. "We do."

The night air was crisp as you stepped out of the grand hotel, the city’s lights reflecting off the polished black limousine waiting at the curb. The distant hum of life in the city created a soft backdrop of noise, but here, in front of the sleek vehicle, everything felt quieter, more intimate. Alucard, as always, had his hand lightly resting on your lower back as he guided you toward the car.

“After you, love,” He said smoothly, his voice laced with amusement as he opened the door for you. His crimson eyes gleamed under the streetlights, and even in the dim evening, he looked effortlessly sharp in his tailored suit, dark and dangerously handsome.

You gave him a playful smirk before slipping into the limousine’s spacious interior. The leather seats were cool against your skin as you settled in, and a faint, luxurious scent lingered in the air. Alucard followed, closing the door behind him as he took the seat beside you.

As the driver began pulling away from the curb, the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. Alucard stretched his arm along the back of the seat, his fingers lightly brushing against your shoulder in a way that felt casual yet intentional.

“Excited?” hHe asked, his voice low and teasing as his eyes flickered to yours. “Or is it nerves I sense?”

You glanced at him, rolling your eyes slightly. “Excited isn’t the word I’d use. This is a mission, remember? Focus, Alucard.”

He chuckled, his hand sliding down to lightly squeeze your shoulder. “I’m always focused. It’s you who seems to be on edge, dragul meu.” His voice was a playful murmur, but there was that undercurrent of seriousness you knew all too well. He thrived in these high-stakes situations, while you, well, you preferred a little less danger and a little more simplicity.

You preferred a better plan, you preferred having more allies. Yet, you had to make it do with just Alucard by your side. Either way, you knew he wouldn't let you hurt yourself.

“I’m not on edge,” You retorted lightly, turning to face him fully. “I’m just thinking about the plan. We’re supposed to be subtle, blend in, gather intel. You remember the whole ‘don’t draw attention to ourselves’ part, right?”

Alucard’s lips curled into that familiar, devilish smirk. “Subtlety isn’t always the most fun, but I suppose I can behave for one night.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Of course, if things get boring, I might have to… stir the pot a little.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I prefer the term ‘charming,’” He corrected you, eyes gleaming mischievously.

The limousine cruised through the city, the lights outside glowing brighter as you approached the heart of the bustling nightlife. The party you were heading to was in one of the city’s most elite venues — a towering glass building that loomed in the distance, sparkling against the night sky. The event was exclusive, crawling with high-society types, all hiding secrets beneath their polished exteriors. You and Alucard were here to uncover one of those secrets.

As the limousine neared the grand entrance, you adjusted your clothes, making sure everything was in place. Alucard watched you with an almost predatory gleam in his eyes, though there was a softness in the way his gaze lingered.

“You look stunning,” He murmured, his voice softer now, devoid of the usual teasing edge. “They won’t know what hit them.”

You met his eyes, feeling a flutter in your chest despite yourself. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirked, leaning in just a bit closer. “Just ‘not so bad?’ I think I deserve more credit than that.”

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Let’s just get through this without any chaos, alright? Then I’ll give you all the credit you want.”

The limousine came to a smooth stop in front of the towering venue, the driver stepping out to open the door for you both. Alucard was out first, offering his hand to help you out, his grip firm but gentle. As you stepped out onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the murmurs of the crowd were already starting.

He pulled you close, his arm slipping around your waist as you both made your way toward the entrance. You could feel the weight of his presence beside you, commanding and magnetic.

“We’ll be the perfect couple tonight,” Alucard whispered into your ear as you ascended the stairs, his breath warm against your skin. “Just follow my lead.”

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a small smile. “I’m used to that by now.”

With that, you both stepped through the grand doors into the glittering party, where the real game was about to begin.

[nanaslutt]

Saint Nana, could I have m!reader teaching choso how to give a blowjob while 69ing, A sort of "copy what you feel" situation?

contains: m!reader, inexperienced!Choso, hand jobs, dirty talk, frotting, making out, first orgasm, 69ing, face fucking, multiple orgasms, choking, sooo sloppy and messy, cum eating, blood (choso bites ur neck a little too hard), throat goat Choso, a smidge of assplay :3

note: anyone can read :3 this was so fun to write tysm for the ask

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

“Are you sure you really want this?” You asked, rubbing his already hard cock through his sweats as his lip quivered, watchful eyes on you. “Yes.” He said, his voice accompanied by a nod.

“You’re not forcing yourself?” You asked, gripping his length through the cloth in your hand as you started jerking his cock slowly. He shook his head, gulping hard as his eyes fluttered at the unusual stimulation. “Do you want me to stop touching you so you can really think about it?” You giggled, watching his eyes fight to stay properly forward in their sockets.

“N-no please I.. I want to know what you like.. How.. how to touch you.” He said, taking a deep breath as he spoke clearly, looking into your eyes to make sure you really heard him. “Have you ever touched yourself, Choso?” You asked, making him blush at your question. His dark eyes dropped to watch him stroke his cock, the outline of his cock being too obvious from the way you were grabbing it. "Sort of." He said, looking back up to you for direction. "Sort of?" You asked, encouraging him to expand.

"I don't think I did it right, but I've... touched myself before." He said. He seemed hesitant to talk more about it, so you chalked it up to him either being clumsy or not having made himself orgasm before; both of which were not a problem for you, you were here to show him how it's done after all. "Okay baby, why don't you touch me right now, just like I'm doing to you?" You said, scooting closer toward him on the bed from where the two of you sat on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor.

"Okay." He nodded after a brief second. He reached a shaky hand over to your lap and felt up the same spot you were groping him at. It took him a second to figure out how your cock was laying under your pants, but he eventually wrapped his own hand around your girth. Choso's breath hitched when he felt your cock twitch in his hold, making you smile at his reaction. "So just.." The curse spoke, wrapping his fingers around his cock the best he could while his thumb rested near the tip.

You felt a dull warmth blossom in your stomach at the feeling of finally getting some form of relief. "Yeah, grab it a little harder it's not gonna break." You giggled, making him blush as he tightened his grip and matched your strokes on his own cock, to yours. "You like it?" You ask, noticing how his gaze was glued to your cock, his tongue occasionally poking out between his lips to wet them-- realizing how empty his mouth was. "Yeah, you're really big." He said like it was nothing. Your cock sure as hell didn't take it like it was nothing-- throbbing under his hand at his praise, you almost felt a little embarrassed.

"You're pretty big yourself Choso." You said, biting your lip as you watched the way a dark patch started forming where the tip of his cock was. "You're so wet 'ur leakin' through 'ur pants already." You giggled, making him pause his efforts slightly as his eyes fluttered in his head when you squeezed your hand on his tip tighter. "Am I not supposed to?" He asked, looking down at his lap as he wet his lips with his tongue, feeling a heat grow in his pelvis the longer he watched you stroke him off.

"Thats not what I meant." You laughed, making him look up at you. With your free hand you grabbed the side of his face and caressed it, bringing your hand down to grab the bottom half of his chin as you leaned in. His eyes rapidly fluttered between your lips and your lust filled eyes the closer you got. He swore his breath stoping coming all together when you leaned inches from his face. "Im saying it turns me on how sensitive you are." You whisper against his lips, making a deep whine spill from his lips before you crashed your mouth with his.

"M-mmm" He moaned into the kiss, his strokes picking up on your cock again. The kiss started off slow and sensual, but quickly fell into a more needy pace, filled with heavy breathing and stuttered moans. Choso's eyes shot open when he felt your warm fingers slide under the band of his sweats and boxers alike, and rub him directly. Your own eyes cracked open to gauge his reaction, the two of you gazing into the others eyes before you closed them once more and giggled into his mouth before pulling away. His mouth tried to chase yours, his jaw slack and face red with the intensity of the kiss as he leaned into you, opting to lay his forehead int he crook of your shoulder when you dodged his kiss.

You used your other hand to pull his sweats down slightly so you could pull his cock out, your mouth watering at how big he really was-- the bulge under his pants barely did him justice. He had a lot of nerve saying you were big when his was twice as thick as at least a couple inches longer than yours. Maybe he really was just that clueless. "Fuck, how have you kept this thing a secret for so long huh?" You practically moaned. His cock was such a pretty shape, and the color of his flushed tip made your own cock drip with pre.

"I don't know-" He said honestly, cutting himself off with a moan when you rotated your hand around his tip and spread his pre down the length of his cock to ease the slide. "Feels really- really good." He said with a shaky voice, biting his lip. He was getting too absorbed in his pleasure, sure you loved making him feel good, and seeing him like this was a treat, but your own cock was aching too and his pathetic squeezes and stuttered stroking weren't doing it for you.

"Yeah? Wanna touch me like this too?" You asked, pushing him along. A grin spread across your face when he nodded. You watched him in real time try to pull himself together for you, he must've remembered he was here so you could teach him how to touch you- not the other way around. Not that you minded much. With no more aid from you, he pulled down your pants the same way you did to him- and held your breath as you felt his calloused hand slide into your pants teasingly and hesitantly before he pulled the appendage free and wrapped his hand around it, his eyes getting a full unobstructed view of your cock.

His jaw fell slack as he watched himself jerk you off. You felt a fat drip of pre slide down his tip and join the rest of the wetness coating his cock, making you smile. "You like what you see?" You asked, studying his face intently as he stroked you off, matching your movements on his own cock. "Yes, Its so warm." He said astonished.

Choso had tried to masturbate before but he always stopped himself right before he came whenever he tried. Part of him was afraid of what would happen, but sometimes he was too stimulated to work himself up to that point of arousal, his strokes always losing that perfect rhythm the closer he got to cumming, which always ended up in a failed orgasm as he unintentionally edged himself repeatedly.

His body jerked forward and his free hand came down to grab your wrist and stop your movements on his cock entirely when you sped up. He squeezed his eyes shut before letting out a shaky breath and speaking, "Could you.. stop touching me for a second?" He asked sweetly. "I cant focus on touching you when you're.." He paused, looking around, "Jerking you off?" You finished for him, making him nod at your words. The way this big man acted so coy around this kind of stuff shouldn't have made you as hard as it did, but he was just so cute.

"Yeah baby, no problem." You smiled, retracting your hand as you placed both behind you and leaned back into them, giving Choso more room to lean in and touch you freely. Now that he had a clearer head, he reached turned his body towards you, folding one of his knees on the bed; heavy cock hanging freely in the air; and wrapped his massive palm over your cock again.

Now that he wasn't actively feeling the pace you had set on his own member, he struggled to find a rhythm at first, but the sloppy movements felt good nonetheless. He watched with his mouth hung open in a small o as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tipped back, revealing your strong adams appple to his observant eyes. He took the chance to freely stalk your body with his eyes. He ran them over your thighs, the veins on your arms, your pecs under your shirt, all of it.

Choso's heavy cock leaked pre cum like a facet all over his sweats and the sheets in front of him. It twitched like crazy from him just watching you feel the pleasure he was giving you. He gulped when you wrapped your hand around his on your cock and helped him find a more suitable rhythm, all while keeping your eyes shut and head back as you absorbed the stimulation. "Squeeze like this- y-yeah just like that-" You groaned when he followed your instructions immediately and to the T, stroking you in a more coherent pattern as he rotated his wrist around your sensitive tip.

He frowned slightly when your hand retracted to perch behind you once again; a sight your eyes missed; but he decided to take the initiative at the absence of your hand. He stroked his hand up to your tip and rubbed his thumb along your slit, smearing the pre-cum that was on the skin there, making your breath hitch followed by a pretty moan that made Choso's stomach turn over. "Do you like that?" You heard his deep voice whisper cautiously into the air.

"Yes baby~" You whined, bucking your hips slightly on instinct into his hand. "I guess you're sensitive too." He said, a small, barely noticeable smile creeping onto his face, which you caught as you tipped your chin down and opened your eyes to smile at him. "It's your fault, you're a pro~" You praised, making him blush as he went back to stroking your cock steadily.

"Can I.." Choso started, licking his lips as he stared at yours, red from how often you had bitten them. "Can we kiss again?" He asked, not waiting for your answer before he started leaning in again, leaning his chest over yours. "You like kissin' me?" you said teasingly, laying back on your forearms as he slowly crawled on top of you, sliding his big thighs under yours, making you spread your legs to welcome him; your cock still being jerked off slowly in his ridiculously warm hand.

"Yeah, it feels good." He said, placing his arm next to your head and biting his lip, placing his lips just centimeters from yours. "You like feeling good huh?" You whispered against his lips, the two of you opening and closing your lips teasingly, licking your lips as you waited for the other to close the distance. He nodded, "Like when I rub your cock~" You continued, lowering your voice as you touched your lips to his but didn't dare move.

Choso's breath was picking up, his hand surprisingly still keeping its slow, tantalizing rubbing on your shaft. "Bet you'll like it even more when you feel it down my throat." You said quietly, making him groan against your lips as you finally closed the distance. His hand sped up drastically on your cock when the two of you started slotting your lips against one another. The both of you panting and whining into the other's mouth, your hands roaming over the expanse of his large back as he jerked you off at the perfect tempo.

"Rub them together." You rushed between kisses, "I'll show you." You slid one of your own hands between your body and grabbed his hand and pulled it off of your own member before you thrust your hips up so your cock nudged his. He panted heavier into your mouth when he felt it touch his. You wrapped your hand around both of your cocks, struggling with how girthy he was. You could barely wrap your hand around him alone, so the both of you was a bit of a challenge.

"Help me out." You whispered against his lips before you licked your tongue out to his, testing the waters. His body jolted at the feeling of your tongue trying to push into his mouth. Choso tried hard to focus on what was going on up top, and down below, it was all too much. He pulled away, gasping for air, and you thought the tongue was too much. "Sorry, not ready for that yet?" You panted, staring up at him with swollen lips and a flushed face; he thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

"No!" He said too quickly "No, sorry I, there's too much going on." He said, biting his lip at the feeling of you squeezing the base of your cocks together in your smaller hand. "You're right, sorry baby." You couldn't help but feel bad. You had let the pleasure overwhelm you and cloud your senses. Choso was a virgin, and as horny as you were, you needed to take it slow with him-- for right now at least.

"I know you wanna kiss me, but let's start with this right now." You said, gaining your composure back. "I might be being a little selfish, but I might die If I don't feel your cock rubbing against mine right now." You giggled, easing the tension in the air slightly. He nodded, looking down where the two of you were pressed together. "You're really big, so I need you to help me jerk us off." You said nodding, looking at his flushed face. "Do I do the same thing as before?" He asked, uncertainly as he wrapped his large hand easily over both of your cocks and your hand alike, making your stomach flutter at the realization of how big he was everywhere.

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you spoke, "Yes, just like before." You said. He licked his lips before starting up a pace for the two of you. A 'sclick' sound bounced off the walls at how wet the two of you were. You didn't expect his clumsy movements to feel this good, but you had to actively fight off the whines that wanted to spill from your throat. The two of you stared between each other as you jerked off together, both breathing heavily.

"M-move your hips, pretend you're fucking me." You instructed a gasp leaving your lips when his cock rubbed against yours in a more stimulating way as he met his thrusts with your strokes. "Like this?" He asked, looking at your face for approval. "Yes-yes j-just like that." You groaned, tipping your head back into the sheets as his warm cock humped against your own. "You look so hot.." Choso whispered, "I like when your head rolls back like that.." He shamelessly admits, catching you off guard as his words fluster you.

"Y-yeah?" You ask, not being able to say much as his thrusts pick up. The sudden need to bite the throat you had exposed to him washed over his brain as he leaned forward and placed his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Yeah, I can tell when you're feeling good when you do that." his deep voice spoke. You were unable to stop the whine that slipped through your lips at his dirty words, moan after moan falling from them freely now as he fully took. control of what was happening below your waist.

"I like the sounds you make too." He continued, licking your neck with his warm tongue before he sunk his teeth into the flesh. You cried out, placing your other hand on the back of his neck as you gripped your nails into the skin there and pushed him against you. "C-choso!" You whined, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten feeling his teeth break your flesh, quickly the feeling was replaced by his tongue that soothed the marking there.

"I like it when you say my name too, It makes me feel all hot." Where did this bold and shameless person come from? He was giving you whiplash from how he had gone from coy and shy to this overbearing confident man who had taken full control of the situation. "C-choso-" You wined again, feeling his lips suck hickeys into your neck. "Yeah, like that," He mumbled against your sweet skin.

Choso had no idea what he was doing, he was just listening to his instincts and what he thought felt right in the moment. Clearly, he was doing something right because you were squirming under him, your cock was twitching more frequently, and your moans were raising in pitch, the latter making his stomach feel all funny.

"Oh fuck Choso- Im gonna cum-" You moaned, pressing his head harder into your neck as he continued to leave little kisses and bites all over the expanse of your neck. He wasn't totally sure what 'cuming' was, but he was thinking he was going to do the same, the warm feeling in his stomach was getting stronger, something that had happened to him before. This was usually where he would have to stop because the stimulation would make his movement sloppy and not feel like enough-- but with you under him crying out his name, and your own weak thrusts against his cock as you aided in stroking your members was making him spiral into his impending orgasm.

"M-me too I think.. a-ahh-" He whined, sucking your skin into his mouth harder as he bit the same skin to ground himself, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper the stronger the feeling in his stomach grew. "Fuck- fuck me Choso F-uck me!" You whined, gasping into the air. Choso's breath hitched when he felt it, his first orgasm. You must've come at the same exact time because the two of you made similar sounds and movements as your highs washed over you.

Your combined strokes got sloppier and slower as you jerked and humped each other through your highs. Your nails dug into the back of his neck strong enough to break the skin as your jaw dropped and profanities along with Choso's name spilled from your lips. Choso's own moans were louder now agaisnt you as his body jerked forward, his abs clenching under the strength of his orgasm. He released your neck from his teeth as he laid his forehead into the crook of your shoulder, feeling warm spurts of cum shoot out of his cock and land somewhere on your body.

Your orgasm ended before yours, your body going slack against the sheets as you twitched in overstimulation from Choso stroking himself through the aftershocks of his own high. He leaned up from your neck, red faces and crimson smeared on his lip as he sat back on his heels and admired the mess he made. The both of you released your hand from your combined cocks, noticing how the both of you were still hard.

"Fuck, you came so much." You smirked, pulling up your shirt and showing off your stomach covered in Choso and your combined cum as you rubbed it around on your skin. "Sorry." He said, rubbing your thigh as his cock twitched watching you mix the cum together. "Don't be, means you felt good." You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up through your lidded gaze at him. "No, I mean.." The man leaned forward and placed his hand on your neck, rubbing the bloodied spot on your neck with his thumb, "I made you bleed." He said, apologetically.

Your hand came to wrap itself around his wrist and rubbed at the delicate skin there. "It's okay, it felt good." You said, easing his nerves. "Don't say that, it's dangerous." He blushed, pulling his hand away from your throat as he laid it back on your thigh. You giggled, "Worried you'll hurt me?" You bit your lips teasingly as you placed your hand on your chest like you were some delicate maiden. "I'm stronger than you think ~" You teased, making him advert his gaze, instead looking back to your cock that, much like his, was still hard and bobbing in the air.

"You're still hard," Choso said, stating the obvious. "Of course I am, you think a little frotting is enough to satisfy me?" You giggled. "Looks like this wasn't enough for you either, big guy~" You teased, pulling the tip of his cock down with your pointer finger and watching it spring back up between the two of you. The man blushed, gripping your thighs in his strong hands. "What do we do now?" He asked, falling right back into that lost sheep behavior you knew so well. "Wanna learn how to suck a cock?"

--

Choso was now face to face with your dick, just inches away from his mouth as it twitched in front of him. You were on top of the man, facing away from him as you stradled your legs around his chest and came face to face with his own dick as you stroked it slowly in your hands. "Its simple really, just do what I do. Whatever you feel on your own cock, try to replicate on me~" You instructed, poking your tongue between your lips as you kitten licked the pre-cum off of his tip.

"O-okay." He stuttered, feeling way more nervous now that he couldn't see your face. Putting your cock in his mouth felt dangerous, but by the little lick he felt on his cock, he couldn't disagree that it felt really good. "Keep your teeth back though." You added, "I know I said Im strong, but I might pass out if you bite my cock." You laughed, making your cock throb in front of Choso's face. He nodded although you couldn't see him. "Last thing~" You said, arching your back when you felt him wrap his own hand around your cock and begin to rub it. "Let me know before you cum, I don't wanna choke~" You teased, making him blush at the implication of him cumming in your mouth.

With that, you took his cock into your mouth and started sucking. You moaned around the mushroom tip as you wet the first couple inches of his cock with your mouth, stroking what couldn't yet fit in your mouth as you adjusted to the stretch. Choso moaned loudly, making you hum around his girth as you dropped your head lower and lower. Because he was unable to see what you were doing, every touch, lick, suck, and hum felt that much more intense. He had never gotten his cock sucked before, so he didn't know what to expect, but he quickly realized why this was a thing.

Would you feel like this when he did this to you? "Hey, don't leave me hangin' lover boy~" You cooed, popping off his dick and stroking it in his hand before you went back to sucking his cock, taking it deeper down your throat this time around. His eyes rolled back into his head before he focused on the task at hand. The position was a little awkward but he thoroughly enjoyed the view of your full balls and tight asshole right before his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to calm his heart that threatened to beat out of his chest, he aimed your cock towards his mouth and sucked the tip into his ridiculously warm mouth. He felt the vibrations from your pleased moans around his girth as he lifted his head up to take your cock deeper in his mouth, mimicking what you had done. He pushed himself a little too far, too fast as your cock hit the back of his throat, making him gag around your cock.

He stayed strong though, keeping your dick in his mouth he pulled back slightly before using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit in his mouth. "Jesus christ~ Your mouth is so fucking warm-" You moaned, popping your mouth off of his dick to breath as he rolled his tongue around your head. "Fuckkk- Choso- do that again-" You moaned, your back arching and eyebrows raising as you laid your head agaisnt his thigh, stroking his cock lazily.

He obliged, licking his cock around your head and along the prominent vein that ran down your cock, making you release a long groan of approval. "Fuuuuck baby, Im not gonna last long at alll~" You laughed before picking up your head and taking his cock into your mouth, trying to work him up to his second orgasm of the night so you didn't cum before him.

Choso felt your lips slowly slide down the length of his cock, feeling your hand place itself on his thigh as you sucked him hands-free, taking his massive cock to the hilt and bobbing your head repeatedly over it. It felt fucking amazing, the way you moaned and gagged around him, your throat squeezing him in the process, he wanted you to feel that too.

So he did just that, he removed his hand and placed it on your thigh, right under your ass cheek as he took your cock deeper into his throat. "mhm-mhmmm~" He heard you moan around his length in approval at his ministration, giving him the push he needed to fight through the gags and focus on breathing through his nose, as that seemed to help take your cock easier. You popped off his cock to speak, your voice whiny and strained when you spoke, "C-can I fuck your throat? You can fuck mine if you want too it'll feel soooo good I promise." You begged, turning your head to look at him as you made eye contact.

He nodded his head to the best of his ability, making a lustful grin spread across your face. "Good boy, place your feet on the bed and do what I do, kay?" You instructed, waiting to take him back into your mouth until he had his feet situated on the bed so he was able to fuck your throat easier. "Relax your throat and breathe through your nose, tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop." He moaned around your cock, letting you know he heard your words.

You giggled at how eager he was, not once stopping his ministrations on your cock while you explained what to do. Choso could not get enough of your smell, your taste, your reactions, all of it. He was feeling so dizzy, and it wasn't because of the lack of oxygen. You took his massive cock back into your mouth and braced yourself for what was to come before you started humping your own hips into his mouth.

Choso's head was forced against the sheets as he let you use his mouth, tears forming in his eyes as he fought through the gags and did his best to roll his tongue around your cock as you did the same for him. Tears of your own had already spilled down your cheeks as he fucked his hips meanly into your mouth; the vulgar choking and squelching sounds emanating from the both of you filling the room.

You felt the knot tie itself tighter in your pelvis as you let the large man abuse your mouth with his ridiculous cock, taking breaths in through your nose when you had the chance. What you weren't expecting was to feel his fingers rubbing at the rim of your ass, making your eyes shoot open at the sudden feeling. You reluctantly pulled your mouth off of his cock as your loud wines and moans filled the room, laying your head on his thigh as it jolted around as you relaced your mouth with your hand, making the man hump his cock into your fist.

"Ah- ah- ah-'s" fell from your lips as he rapidly drew small circles against your rim with his fingers, occasionally pressing against it and making you wonder if he was really going to put his fingers inside right now. "Fuck! Fuck Choso- Choso Im gonna cum!" You wined feeling the vibrations of his moans jolt through your sensitive cock as his hips lost their pace into your fist. Thinking fast, you placed his tip into your mouth and stroked the rest of his cock, working him up to his orgasm.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your thrusts growing erratic before your hips stilled entirely and you shot warm roped of cum down his throat. Choso gagged and sputtered around your dick as he tried to swallow your load. His own orgasm not aiding in his efforts to breathe properly as he came hard into your mouth. You stuck your tongue out and jerked him off as hot ropes of cum splattered over your face, your tongue darting out to lick up the streaks on your lips you had missed.

You lifted your hips up as your cock slipped out of his mouth. Immediately the room was filled with coughs and deep breaths as Choso choked down air greedily into his lungs, the hand that was teasing your rim coming down to rub his throat as he gripped your ankle for support. You smiled as you took his cock into your mouth one last time to lick it clean; the man moaned in oversensitivity; before you popped off with a lewd "ahh!" and sat your ass down on his chest.

You turned your body around to sit on his lower stomach and smile down at his messy face smeared with tears, cum, and spit, and his hair all messed up, pointing in every which way while he stared with an open mouth up at you. You giggled, leaning down to wipe your hands over his drenched cheeks and clean him up a bit as he closed his eyes and let you take care of him. "You're such a good fucking boy Choso." you praised, making him crack his eyes open as a crimson blush spread itself deeper across his face.

He silently brought his hand up to your face, collecting his cum on his thumb before he instinctively brought it down to your lips and waited for you to open up. "You know just what you want, huh?" You teased, sticking out your tongue as you let him slide his thumb into your mouth. You rolled it around in your mouth, taking it as deep as you could as you sucked off his salty cum and let him pull it out with a pop. "I really liked that." He said, staring at his now clean thumb in disbelief before he looked back into your eyes.

"I bet you did, thought you were gonna finger me at the end there~" You laughed, smoothing out the damp hair around his face to make him look more presentable. "Sorry, it just looked so.. cute." He said, rendering you speechless. You stared at him incredulously, with an open-mouthed smile on your face before you broke out into laughter. "Well maybe the two of you should get more familiar with each other sometime~" You cooed, giggling as his hands rubbed soothingly on your thighs. "I'd like that a lot." He genuinely smiled back at you.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

When the darkness gets too loud

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female) Canon

Authors note: the requested stalker!Sihtric fic! It took me longer than I thought but it's finally there and I loved writing it. I just hope I did your idea justice and thank you so much for requesting!

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, to some extent selfharm, obsessive behaviour, stalking, blood, violence, guilt, selfdestructive behaviour, medieval PTSD 😅 but somewhat fluffy and happy ending 😅 (thought I need to put it in the warnings so you know what you all are heading into)

Word Count: 10K

Summary: based on this request:

Sooo I wanted to ask for a (Stalker)Sihtric x reader fic, if that's okay. The reader is a florist in the little town Uthred and his boys are staying at. One day she comes across Sihtric and gifts him a flower, because he's looking rather sad (even though she doesn't know him). While it was just a polite gesture of her, Sihtric immediately falls in love. This is due to him not being used to such kindness. But soon his crush turns into an obsession and he uses all his free time to stalk her and watch her every move.

I know it's a bit wild, but I'm tired of Sihtric always being portrayed as this cute innocent boy. I would love, if somebody would write about the mental issues he likely has with such a past.

Sihtric didn’t even turn back to look at Finan, calling after him. He simply couldn't, he just had to get away. He sighed as the sounds of the bustling alehouse got muted behind the sturdy wooden door, but it didn’t stop the noise as he was greeted by the merry chaos of a lively market on the town's main square. Sihtric groaned in frustration, dragging a hand down his face.

Armour stiff with dried blood that wasn’t his, and his right shoulder throbbing from where a man had slammed him into a tree trunk, he dragged his feet down the few wooden steps. It was not the pain that unsettled him. Pain was just part of it, always had been and he was used to not letting it show, not during the battle, not afterward. 

It was the noise, the laughter, the colours and the warmth of a sunny summer day, clashing violently with the screams still echoing in his mind, even now after the battle had ended.

He needed silence. He needed it so desperately that if the noise didn’t stop soon, he was certain his head would split clean in two. Sometimes on days like this he wished he could go back to the dark, wet basement of Dunholm with nothing but peaceful  silence to listen to. 

With a deep sigh he shrugged off that thought, and with no real destination in mind he just let his feet carry him forward, just away from everything. 

It was a good day, the kind of day where the sun warmed but didn’t scorch, where the soft breeze played with loose petals from the flower bundles on your stall and sent them dancing across the market square like tiny, twirling ghosts and people seemed to be smiling more than usual.

Your hands were busy as always. You loved the quiet rhythm of putting flowers together in little gentle clouds of vibrant colour, or the dizzying aroma of wild lavender hitting your nose, while you tied them up in small bunches. 

Most days blurred into each other in a haze of color and soft chatter as people just came and went – locals, travelers, rowdy warriors who never paid much mind to your stall unless they needed something for an apology or a courtship. You smiled at all of them but never too long, never too brightly, you liked staying small, hidden behind the joyful vibrance your hands created.

Which is why you noticed him, not because he spoke to you or came close, but because of the stillness.

He was standing across the square, half in shadow, his shoulders hunched and face contorted as if in pain. At first you thought he might be watching something behind you but no, his eyes, large, piercing and oddly lost, were fixed on the flowers.

Your heart gave a small, uncertain thud at the sight of the handsome but battered warrior. Tall and incredibly well built with raven dark hair braided on the top of the head but falling in loose curls over his broad shoulders he just stood there like he didn’t know what to do with himself, like the world was too loud, too much, and he was bracing for it to fall apart.

His leather armour covered with dark stains, blood, maybe, boots dirty with mud and an axe hanging at his side, he looked like he’d walked straight off a battlefield, but what struck you most was the tiredness in the way he held himself. Tiredness of life itself. 

You glanced down at the blooms in front of you, the daisies you had picked this very morning seemed to smile back at you – bright little things, cheerful and full of spirit.

You didn’t think, you picked one, just one, and stepped out from behind the stall. You had almost reached him when he finally noticed you walking up to him.

“Here,” you said softly, offering the daisy in your outstretched hand. “You look like you could use one today.”

He didn’t flinch, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened, like he had  expected a blow instead of a flower. He stared at it in silence, no words, not even a nod, before he reached out, slow, almost wary, and took it between his rough, blood-stained fingers.

“Have a peaceful day,” you gave him a small smile, unsure what else to do, and turned back to your stall. You had almost reached it as you glanced back over your shoulder, he was still standing there, holding the daisy like it was the most precious thing in the world.

You didn't know his name, didn’t know what he'd been through but something told you that no one had given him a flower before.

It was as if Sihtric’s life had suddenly lit with a thousand candles. You had noticed him and you had been kind to him, just like that, with no reason, no need, no gain.

No one ever gave something for nothing but you had.

That flower, so small, soft, forgettable in anyone else’s hand, had burned itself into him like a brand. It had startled him, the way something so simple could feel like magic beyond words to express. It scared him and he didn’t know what to do with it - that feeling, that light. It was so different from the dark he was used to.

He kept the daisy tucked inside a small leather pouch and checked it every morning and every night. Just to be sure it hadn’t crumbled into nothing while he wasn’t looking. It was withered and wrinkled now, but it was there and somehow, it made the world less sharp, less bloody. The voices from his past didn’t echo quite so loudly when he remembered the curve of your smile, the light in your eyes.

He began to walk the market square more often. Not to speak, he wasn’t ready for that, but to see, to make sure you were real and with each passing day, that light inside him grew, not warm, not soft, but fierce, burning.

It was a strange feeling, unfamiliar and consuming, the sense that something precious and beautiful belonged to him now. And he would not let the world steal it away

“It’s nothing unusual, I’ll just check the market, maybe I’ll find something today,” Sihtric muttered the words to himself like a mantra, repeated so often they had begun to sound true.

He told himself it was just another pass through town with Finan and Osferth, just another errand, just another walk with no real destination. Was it a coincidence that his steps always took him past the flower stall? Of course it was. Just curiosity, that was all. Just something pleasant to look at, something bright and clean and untouched, something other than blades, ale, and Finan’s damned smirking face.

“It’s nothing special,” he murmured under his breath as he watched you but even as the words left his lips, they felt hollow, because deep down, in the quietest part of himself, he knew – he had never seen anything more special, more beautiful in his entire life.

So he just kept watching, from across the square, from behind barrels, from the shadow of a narrow alley that stank of fish and damp stone. He watched your hands tie bundles of lavender, the way your hair slipped loose from the braid when the wind tugged at it. He watched you laugh with an old woman who traded herbs, watched you nod politely at merchants, smile at children.

He watched what made you happy, what made you tilt your head in wonder, who made you laugh and, most importantly – who came too close.

He tracked it all. The way you opened the stall just after sunrise, how you buried your nose in the first bouquet you had tied together and smiled at wild flowers as if they were your best friends. He saw how you always adjusted the sign twice before stepping back to look at it, lips parting in a satisfied smile.

He knew the rhythm of your day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. 

He noticed the small smear of dirt on your cheek you’d forgotten to wipe away, the way your chest rose and fell gently when you hummed that tune, always the same one, whenever you drifted into thought.

His fists clenched when your cheeks flushed crimson at the bold compliment of some young man who bought a bouquet only to hand it right back to you.

And when the blacksmith’s apprentice let his gaze linger too long on the neckline of your dress, Sihtric’s fingers slid, unbidden, to the hilt of his axe.

And the more he watched the more convinced he was – you were too kind for this cold, cruel world, like a soft, wild flower blooming bright in a desolate meadow, unaware that your beauty will one day become your doom as unworthy hands will come to pluck you. But not if he could prevent it, not if he protected you.

Ribs aching with each breath as the dull pain mixed with the sharp sting of his split lip, Sihtric pushed himself up from the ground and slumped his back against the wall, pulling knees to his chest. The first time he had cried. With his face pressed to the cold, straw-strewn floor and his shoulders trembling, he had tried to stifle the sounds that might give him away as the key turned in the lock with a loud click and his father’s heavy footsteps faded up the stairs, leaving him alone in the blackness of Dunholm’s basement. That was the first and the last time.

Sihtric closed his eyes and listened. Silence. Nothing but silence. So peaceful. He didn’t make a sound, not anymore. He had learned to distinguish the pain from the hurt. Silence didn’t hurt, and neither did darkness. Even his fathers blows didn’t really hurt anymore. 

Slowly, Sihtric uncurled his tightly clenched fist and looked down at it. His eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness around him, but he didn’t need to see it. He knew every curve, every dimple, every uneven edge of the small, fragile thing resting in his palm.

 It hurt. More than anything. That disappointed, mocking look in the eyes of that blonde girl from the kitchen had hurt. The way she had tossed aside this little charm he’d carved from bone and strung with a scrap of leather.

Crooked and misshapen, it was meant to be a bird. He had made it for her, even tied a flower to it, picked from the meadow just beyond the walls, though he wasn’t meant to leave the fortress. He knew he'd get a beating for that, but he had snuck out anyway. For her. And she had thrown it to the ground like it was nothing, looking at him with that same coldness, that same silence as everyone else. 

Sihtric fingers found the thin leather strap and ran slowly along its length. It was still intact. Why did it hurt so much? 

Sihtric woke up with a cry and covered in sweat, chest heaving, breath coming too fast, too shallow, like the air was being stolen before it could reach his lungs. The darkness of the room pressed in on him, until even the walls seemed to shift and close in.

His fingers clawed at the furs tangled around him, heart racing and throat tight. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think.

Sihtric pressed his palm to his chest, as if he could force his lungs to work. It was like drowning, like sinking in a sea of sounds that weren’t there anymore, his father’s rage, the sneers of his half-brother, the angry voice of that elderly women chasing him out of the kitchen as he tried to steal some fresh baked bread, the mocking laugh of that blond girl whose face he couldn’t recall anymore, the sound of a bone charm hitting the floor and the all overarching feeling that he had failed. 

The scream still rang in his ears. Was it his? Was it yours? He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember the dream, only the feeling it left behind: that you were gone. That he hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been able to protect you. That someone else had touched you, taken you, ruined the little piece of light he’d been clinging to.

He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached as panic crawled up his throat like bile. Hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead he pulled his legs to his chest and clutched the small leather pouch around his neck harbouring the remnants of the daisy you had given to him. Desperate and frantic his fingers closed around it. Breathe, just keep breathing. It was still there. 

Not all about it was a dream. Here it was, brittle and crushed inside, but still a reminder that you were real. That your voice had spoken to him, that your fingers had brushed his when you handed him the daisy.

"Have a peaceful day," he repeated your words under his breath over and over, rocking himself back and forth while he was desperately trying to hold on to that one memory, to the ghost of that feeling he could barely touch now, of two gentle hands once rocking him into sleep. Of tears wiped away by someone who had truly loved him… by someone who seemingly had never existed… and yet somehow had… 

Slowly the air started to come easier, his hands began to steady, and he pressed his back to the wall looking up into the ceiling above him. Was he even worthy? Was he worthy of that gentleness, of that warm smile, of that soft touch against his rough, calloused fingers?

Had it actually meant something? It had to be, it had to mean something, because if it didn’t, then what was the point of all this? Of him still being alive? If it hadn’t meant something… then what was left?

Sihtric wanted to speak to you, just a few words, just enough to be sure he hadn’t imagined it all but his voice always stuck in his throat when he got close. 

What would he even say? That he thought about you when the darkness got too loud? That he had nightmares where you disappeared, and he was left clutching nothing but a broken stem of a daisy? 

It was one of those days that looked like all the others – sunlight falling in warm stripes, the market humming with voices and footsteps.

You were standing by your stall, head tilted just slightly, lips curled in that soft smile he’d memorized, but it wasn’t meant for him, it was for another man.

Some young fool with a clean shaved face, neat clothes and shiny boots that looked like they had never seen the road, never touched mud or blood.

Sihtric stood across the square, the crowd a blur between you, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The man leaned in a little closer, saying something and you laughed, bright, easy and carefree. You handed him the small bouquet of flowers, he bowed, took your hand, tilted it to his lips and kissed it. 

Sihtric’s breath left his lungs in a slow, strangled hiss. He knew men like that with smiles hiding hunger, and pretty words like bait. They didn’t see you, they wanted you, wanted your light, your softness, your laugh. Wanted to take it, twist it, own it.

Sihtric shut his eyes but it didn’t help. He still saw you, still saw him following you home, standing too close, fingers gripping your waist. Your voice, warm and soft, and his voice - rough and commanding, in your home, your room. Those polished boots on the floor beside your bed. The sound of flesh snapping against flesh tangled with your quiet sobs.

Sihtric’s hands curled into fists as he shoved the thought down so hard it burned.

You didn’t see the dangers around you, you didn’t understand the way men looked at you. You saw good in everyone, even in him.

That was why he followed the boy home, just to watch, just to check, just to see. Just to be sure.

He didn’t hurt him. Not yet. But gods, he wanted to.

You were sorting bundles of lavender when you felt him there, just on the edge of your awareness. You looked up and found him standing in front of your stall - tall, broad shouldered and handsome, scar running over his right eyebrow and cheek. His dark hair braided neatly, revealing more of his face, which looked younger somehow without the dirt and stubble. 

You smiled, soft and curious. “Hello again.”

He opened his mouth, but then immediately glanced down at his boots, lips pressing into a thin line. You waited patiently until he finally looked up again.

“I, ah…” he began, then reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’m not—used to… places like this.”

“Places with flowers?” you teased gently, lips quirking.

A flash of something passed through his eyes, embarrassment, maybe, or uncertainty.

“Places with people like you,” he said.

And just as you felt the heat bloom in your cheeks, his elbow bumped a small pot near the edge of the table. It wobbled once, twice and tipped, shattering on the cobblestones below.

“Oh!” you gasped, stepping around the side. “It’s alright, it happens, wait, let me…”

But he was already on his knees, crouching, broad shoulders hunched like a scolded boy, carefully collecting the broken shards of clay and scooping loose soil back into the remnants of the pot with callused hands.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, brushing his hand as you tried to help him. “Really, it’s just a pot.”

His fingers stilled at the touch, just for a second, then he resumed his quiet cleanup.

“Let me pay for it,” he muttered, reaching into his belt pouch and pressing two coins into your hand before you could protest. “I’ve ruined it.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to do that. It was just an accident.”

“I want to.”

There was a long pause as the two of you stood again, brushing dirt off your hands.

“I’m Sihtric,” he said at last. “I… I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” you asked, brows lifting in surprise.

“For the daisy. I mean… I… I don’t know,” he hesitated, words faltering like he hadn’t planned on saying any of them aloud.

You smiled. “It’s good to meet you, Sihtric. I’m glad you stopped by.” You picked another flower from the bucket beside you, holding it out. “Can I offer you another one? You still look like you need it.”

He nodded once, slowly, his fingers fidgeted nervously at the edge of his cloak, but his eyes never left yours.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” you said, smiling a little wider.

His mouth parted, as if he meant to say something more, but he didn’t, instead, he returned your smile, took the flower with a kind of reverence, and offered a quiet goodbye before turning and slipping back into the slow-moving current of the square.

You watched him go, heart warm… and a little confused.

There was something about him, something worn and wild, guarded, hidden but something good, too.

And you didn’t know why, but silently, you hoped he’d come back.

It only got worse from there. Sihtric barely slept. And when he did, it was never more than a brief stretch, curled beneath his fur cloak, slumped against a stone wall in some narrow alleyway where he could keep an eye on the entrance to your home.

He saw them everywhere—threats, lurking dangers, shadows with teeth, they were in every man who lingered too long, in every glance that dipped below your neckline, in every smile casted your way, every hand that reached too close.

He studied them, watched their hands, their mouths, their eyes, he memorized the way they moved, the way they looked at you when they thought no one would notice. He watched the way they breathed. And gods, if he could, he would have watched their thoughts.

You didn’t know what the world was like, not really, not the way he knew it. You lived in light, surrounded by petals and colours, by soft people with soft hearts. You didn’t know what it meant to be hunted, what it meant to be a prey, to be broken and discarded, but he knew.

He would never let them touch you, not their hands, not their eyes, not their thoughts. You belonged to peace and happiness, and if he had to cover the road to your door in blood to keep it that way – he would, without hesitation and without guilt.

He was there to protect you. You would be frightened, if you knew how much danger you were in from others, from men who didn't see you the way he did, from ones who saw you as just a pretty, small doll, just something to take. But not him, never him.

He had never wanted to take, he wanted to guard, to keep, to hold, gently, carefully, as if you were the only soft thing the world hadn’t yet ruined. You didn’t need to know what he did, you only needed to feel safe.

That was love. Wasn’t it?

Something had changed. The blacksmith’s boy who used to flirt with you now crossed the square with his head down, avoiding even looking in your direction. 

The young lad from the other town down the road who always brought you apples from his garden when coming in to sell them on the market, once talkative and awkward in a charming way, began to cross the street rather than pass your stall. 

The loud and puffy merchant whose bright grin always made you laugh suddenly had his cart wheel split open one night with a blade so clean, it looked like lightning had struck the wood.

It got more and more quiet around you as customers and passersby seemed to linger less and offer fewer smiles. 

You should have thought it strange, you should have wondered but you never really did. You were too flustered by the handsome warrior that had started visiting your small stall almost every day. 

Never pushy, never overstepping, Sihtric was just there, quiet and watchful, always buying something small, a handful of forget-me-nots or a single marigold just to give them straight back to you. 

Once, he asked what your favorite flower was. You told him you liked thistles – not the prettiest, but they held their own.

“You like things that survive,” he’d said and you laughed as there was surely some truth behind it.

He helped to carry your buckets from the well or fill pots with earth, sometimes he just lingered, listening while you talked about the changing seasons or the birds singing near the river. He didn’t say much, but when he did, it was thoughtful, almost… shy and you began to look forward to those quiet visits. 

Almost without realizing it, the quiet, rough-edged warrior had found his way into your heart and deep down, you hoped his daily visits weren’t just for the flowers.

There was something about the way he looked at the world, like it was always a little too loud, a little too cruel, as though he never expected kindness and didn’t quite know what to do with it when it came.

You had seen it in his eyes, in the way they lingered, searching for something he didn’t know how to ask for. There was a strange kind of sadness in him, pressed into the corners of his mouth and the slope of his shoulders, like he’d spent his whole life bracing for pain.

And sometimes, when you caught him watching you, you wondered if anyone had ever truly loved him, not for his sword, not for his loyalty, not for his coin, but simply for who he was. And in the soft places of your heart, you wanted to be the first.

It happened so fast, you hardly understood what you were seeing at first.

You’d been working since sunrise as you always did and you’d just finished wrapping a bouquet of poppies and yarrow for an older man who had waited patiently.

But the next customer…

You didn’t even catch his name. He was young, in a rush, he tapped his fingers against the table as you worked, muttering under his breath about needing something "quick, just anything, doesn’t matter."

You didn’t mind, you dealt with all sorts but when your hands fumbled slightly tying the ribbon he sighed, maybe a little too sharply. His voice lifted just slightly, not quite rude, but impatient.

Suddenly Sihtric was there.

You hadn’t seen him approach, hadn’t even noticed him in the square that morning. One moment, you were focused on the bouquet, and the next, you heard the scuffle, the rustle of boots and the grunt of impact.

The young man hit the ground hard, dirt smearing his sleeves as he scrambled away from Sihtric’s towering figure.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the man snapped, eyes wide.

Sihtric stood above him, fists clenched, shoulders coiled with fury, his jaw was tight, his breathing shallow. He hadn’t drawn a weapon, but he didn’t need to.

“Sihtric!” you gasped, stepping out from behind the stall. “What are you doing?”

“He spoke to you like you were beneath him,” Sihtric hissed, voice low, somewhat trembling with restraint. “You shouldn’t have to hear that. You don’t deserve it.”

You turned to Sihtric, your heart pounding. “You can’t attack someone just because you didn’t like their tone.”

“He was disrespectful,” Sihtric cut in, too fast. “He didn’t even see you. He looked at you like they all do, like you’re… like you’re something to use. I’ve seen it before.”

“And what?” you asked, voice rising despite yourself. “You thought you’d fix that by knocking him into the dirt?”

“I’ve protected you,” he said suddenly, eyes wide, almost wild. “All this time. You don’t even know the things I’ve stopped before they got close. You should be thankful…”

The world slowed and your chest went tight. “Protected me?”

Sihtric faltered, as if realizing too late what he’d said.

You took a step back. “What do you mean – all this time? And what do you mean by stopped?”

He didn’t answer, just stared, breathing heavily, and slowly, the pieces began to fall into place.

The way customers had started drifting away, the missing faces, the sudden coldness from people you thought even friends, the way the blacksmith’s apprentice avoided your eyes, the silent space that seemed to grow around you like a circle no one dared step into.

“It’s you,” you whispered. “You’ve scared them all off.”

“No,” Sihtric said quickly, shaking his head, voice rising with desperation. “Don’t you see it? They weren’t good for you. They didn’t deserve…”

His hands shot out before you could step back, fingers closing around your arms, way too tight, too firm and controlling, catching you by surprise. His grip bit into your skin like iron, and suddenly, your fear flared to life.

“Let go,” you breathed, panic rising in your chest like a tide.

But he didn’t, his grip only tightened as his eyes searched yours, wild and glassy. “I was protecting you,” he rasped, voice shaking. “I am protecting you.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you struggled against him, trying to pull free. “Sihtric, stop!”

He jerked you closer by your waist.

“No!” you cried, twisting in his grasp as you raised a hand to shove him, slap him, anything to break free from the iron grasp of his hands on your waist, but he caught your wrist mid-air and bent your arm behind your back with a sudden force that made you gasp as the pain shot up your shoulders. 

“Stop!” you screamed but he held you firmly, breath ragged, too far gone to hear reason, his body trembling with restraint he was rapidly losing.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you fought him. “Let go of me!”

And then you kneed him, hard, right into the soft flesh of his groin, he let out a strangled sound, half-snarl, half-choked breath and let go of you as he doubled over.

The world tilted, you were fighting against him so fiercely that the moment his grip loosened your feet lost purchase and you fell hard. Your knees scraped the dirt, your shoulder slammed against the earth, and then your cheek cracked sharply against the edge of a loose stone that split your skin open.

White pain burst across your face, you cried out, clutching your cheek, the blood already trickling through your fingers.

Everything froze, Sihtric stood above you, doubled slightly, one hand braced against his thigh, eyes wide with something between rage and horror as he saw your bleeding face. His mouth opened then closed. He wanted to take a step forward, reaching out to you, but you scrambled back, breath coming in shallow gasps. “Don’t touch me,” you hissed like a wounded animal, nostrils flaring and his arm dropped to his side.

You saw him now, fully and without illusion, the broken and wild man, shaped by violence and loneliness, and need, the real threat, the real danger, and the look on Sihtric’s face said he finally saw it too.

“I thought…” your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks, “I thought you liked me. I thought you cared about me…”

Sihtric opened his mouth, but no words came again.

“All this time…” you choked. “You weren’t protecting me! You were ruining me, you tried to take everything I have. This stall… these flowers… they’re all I have. The people, the little kindnesses, the laughter… You took all that from me. How could you?”

Sihtric reached out again, this time slowly, hesitantly like a man reaching for something sacred and forbidden, face contorted in pain but you flinched, crawling back, avoiding his hand like it burned, as you scrambled to your feet and then you turned and ran. 

The path back to camp was a blur. Sihtric didn’t even remember how he had reached it, only the sound of his own breath and the way it scraped like sand in his throat.

The tents came into view, nestled in the trees just beyond the town’s edge, and Finan’s cheerful voice greeted him from one of the fires, but he didn’t respond. Osferth made a move to raise and go to him, but Finan clasped his hand and shook his head. He knew well that look on Sihtric’s face – the clenched jaw, the distant eyes, hands already twitching toward his weapons. It was not the time to speak with him.

Sihtric didn’t go to the fire, he didn’t speak, didn’t even look at his friends as he walked to the clearing beyond the tree line where the grass was worn, the earth packed firm with hundreds of footsteps.

He shrugged off his cloak, stripped to the tunic beneath, unsheathed his axe, and positioned himself before the thick wooden training post in the centre of the clearing. The first strike was slow, controlled, the second, faster, the third, brutal, putting all his strength into it.

He spun, stepped, slashed against the post like it had wronged him, his blade whistled in the air, his muscles tightening with every movement. The time passed but he continued, his anger spurred him on, not at you but solely at himself. 

Every breath came ragged now as he kept the speed and the pace. Slash. Step back. Squat. Jump. Lunge. Thrust. And then all over again.

You frightened her. Steel clashed against the wooden training post, splintering the grain.

You hurt her.Again, harder this time, the vibration painfully rang up his arm.

She looked at you like you were a monster.

Sihtric drove his blade into the post and ripped it free, sweat dripped down his spine, his shoulder ached from that old bruise reopened by repetition, his ribs and lunges protested with every move and every twist. He embraced the pain, greeted it like an old friend. 

More. Faster. Again. Repeat.

You are a monster, just like your father. 

He trained until the stars crept out behind the trees and the last light of day had vanished behind the horizon, his tunic clung to his skin, soaked through, his chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. His arms ached so badly that the axe slipped from his hand, his fingers refusing to move as he tried to unclench them. With force he pulled them together into a fist.

Blood, his own, slid from a shallow slice at his forearm, he hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t care, he just kept going and as he had lost his axe, he used his fists instead.

He didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t, he had to go to the end because if his body broke, maybe it would silence the voice in his head, the voice that kept shouting at him that he’d destroyed the only good thing that had ever reached for him without fear, without resentment, the voice that whispered: You ruin everything you touch.

The moon was high in the sky when he finally dropped to his knees, panting like he had run a marathon forth and back, with blood covered knuckles and hands shaking from exhaustion, shoulders shaking in silent sobs as the cruel voice in his mind kept echoing over and over: How could you?

It was not enough, he wasn’t broken yet, so as the night crept in and the campfire crackled somewhere behind him, Sihtric found himself dragging his feet back toward the town.

He passed the familiar corners in silence, the square now empty, your stall closed, the flowers tucked away in sleep. He lowered his gaze as he passed it by, shame pulsing beneath his skin, blooming like bruises beneath a blade. 

Here in this very spot you had given him the flower with a smile warmer than the sun. Here in this very spot your blood had painted the dust from his doing, not someone else, not those men he had tried to shelter you from, no, from his own hands.

Laughter drifted out from the alehouse ahead, loud and boisterous. Soldiers, four or five of them, spilled onto the street with mugs still in their hands, their somewhat unsteady movements betraying the amount of ale in their bellies.

They didn’t notice him at first, no one ever did, unless he wanted them to, but tonight, he wanted them to.

He stopped in the center of the road, letting the torchlight catch his silhouette, his presence becoming unavoidable and when one of the men staggered too close, Sihtric didn’t move out of the way, just the opposite, he stepped in his way and bumped heavily into his shoulder. 

The man cursed. “Watch where you’re standing, you filthy Dane rat!”

Sihtric looked up slowly, eyes calm and flat. “Say it again.”

The man blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Another man from the company, taller and broader, stepped forward with a sneer. “What’s the matter, stray dog? You want to start something?”

“No,” Sihtric said, letting his hand fall away from the hilt of his axe. “I want you to or are you too afraid?”

He didn’t swing first, didn’t even lift a fist, didn’t step back, he just stood there, shoulders squared, eyes blank and waiting. The punch came fast, knuckles to jaw, sharp and stunning. Sihtric stumbled, but didn’t fall.

Another came, to his ribs, then his stomach, he doubled slightly, air leaving his lungs in a ragged breath.

The third man hit harder, a boot to the knee and a shove that sent him sprawling to the dirt. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t want to, he let it happen, he took every blow, every insult, every snap of flesh against flesh in silence as he used to so many years ago as though pain might carve the guilt out of him, piece by piece, as though bruises could rewrite the moment you’d looked at him with fear in your eyes, like you detested him with your whole being.

Someone laughed, someone spit, a kick to the ribs, a fist to the mouth, Sihtric tasted blood and welcomed it. It was what he deserved. It was what he understood. Pain and humiliation.

One of the men knelt beside him, grabbing the front of his tunic to drag him up for another strike. Sihtric let his head fall back against the stone wall behind him and laughed, quiet, humorless, broken. It was finally gone. The voice. There was nothing more left, just the silence and the heavy breaths of the drunken men. Silence doesn’t hurt. 

The man released him with a muttered curse and stepped away, the others followed, their interest soured by the strange emptiness in Sihtric’s gaze.

He was alone again, bloodied, aching, breathing in the dust and rot of the street, he lay there for a while, staring at nothing.

He had failed to keep you safe from the world but what was worse – he had failed to keep you safe from himself. 

And this, this was the only kind of forgiveness he understood.

The sky was beginning to pale, touched with the faintest blush of dawn, the world still holding its breath in that beautiful, even serene moment before morning breaks.

You had risen early, as sleep had been impossible. Every time you closed your eyes, Sihtric’s face would return, not the sweet, uncertain one you’d come to know over slow days and quiet glances, but the one from yesterday, with eyes wild and hands like iron claws.

The cut on your cheek ached, and you wanted to pick some marigolds to make a tincture that would make it heal quicker and wouldn’t leave a scar. You opened the doors and let out a quiet cry.

You hadn’t expected to see Sihtric again, not so soon, maybe not ever, but there he was, crouched on your porch, like something left behind by the night, curled in his fur cloak and head resting against the wall.

Your breath caught and for a short moment you just wanted to step over him and run again or shut the door, lock it behind you, and hide in the darkest corner of your own house but then you saw the blood, dried at the corner of his mouth, split along his brow, and the bruises down the side of his jaw, dark, ugly and fresh like he’d let someone use him as a stray doll warriors used to train with.

His knuckles torn raw looked like he had fought with a stone wall

“Sihtric?” you whispered, touching his shoulder lightly.

He stirred, flinching as he lifted his head, and his eyes opened slowly. They were bloodshot and dazed, but still sharp enough to recognize you and the moment he did, he tried to stand, groaning in pain.

“Don’t…” you stepped forward, hands instinctively reaching to support him, but stopping mid-way. “You are hurt. You shouldn’t move. What… what happened to you?”

He didn’t answer right away, just sat back down with a wince and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, smearing more blood across his face.

“I deserved it,” he said finally.

You knelt beside him. 

“Sihtric… why would you…”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the bruises, to his torn clothes, to the swollen corner of his lip. “This is the only language I understand. Pain. Punishment. It’s what I was raised on. It’s what I know.”

You felt tears perling in the corners of your eyes as you watched him and he turned his face away, as if to see the pity in your eyes was too much. “I… I just… I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“Sihtric, you… you must be gone mad. Why did you do this to yourself?”

“Because I ruined the only thing that ever felt real,” he said, words catching in his throat. “And I didn’t know how to live with that.”

He paused and dragged in a ragged breath, trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking up at you. “I’m truly sorry. For everything, for the people I chased off, for trying to control what wasn’t mine, for making you afraid, for hurting you...” he gestured towards the red line on your cheek.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sihtric added, voice cracking. “But I did and I can’t… I can’t take that back.”

You said nothing, just watched him, throat tight, fighting back tears, and you didn’t know what hurt more: the pain of what he’d done, the sight of him so broken, or the dreams you’d once held close now shattered, scattered, and destined never to come true. 

“I won’t bother you again,” he promised. “I swear it. You won’t see me, I won’t come near. I don’t deserve… I never did.”

His shoulders sagged and his head bowed again. “I just needed to say it, before I go.”

You stared at him, crouched and bloodied on your doorstep, and your heart broke in a way you weren't prepared for, not because you loved him still, though some part of you probably did, but because he looked like a boy who had given up, who had finally accepted that he could not be loved, and that knowledge had undone him.

“Sihtric,” you whispered. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He didn’t answer, his shoulders were trembling now, whether from pain or exhaustion or something else, you couldn’t tell.

You couldn’t leave him here like that, you stood up and went back into the house, returning in a moment with a water jug in your hand and some clean rags. You poured some water into a small basin you kept near the door, and dipped the cloth. Without asking, without a word, you knelt in front of him and pressed the cool fabric gently to the blood on his brow.

He winced, but didn’t pull away as you cleaned his face.

“You scared me,” you said softly. “You hurt me, not just by what you did… I trusted you... I let you in.”

His eyes, when they met yours, were raw.

“I know,” he said, and it was more breath than voice. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

You paused, the cloth trembling in your hand as you took his bloodied hand in yours. “But I will.”

His breath hitched.

“I forgive you, Sihtric,” you swallowed, the words almost catching in your throat. “I do. I believe you meant well, I believe you were trying to protect something good in the only way you knew how.”

You gave his hand a gente squeeze, your hands starting to shake even more. “I forgive you but I want you to understand that there is no going back to what we had. I need …,” you paused and looked away, it was too painful to watch his eyes lighten up for a brief moment and then turn bleak again. “I can’t and I need you to leave and not to come back, Sihtric.”

His face crumpled, not with protest, but with understanding, he nodded just once, as if the motion cost him everything. He couldn't tell what hurt more that you wanted him to disappear from your life, he had meant to do it anyway, or that you had just admitted that you both did have something, something he had ruined beyond repair.

He reached into his pouch and took out something small. He hesitated, looking down at his palm – a small bone carved bird with a worn leather strap to it, a bit misshapen as if a child had made it but so beautiful in its simplicity. Sihtric extended his hand towards you, the small thing on his palm.

He didn’t say anything but something in the way he looked at it and then at you, with slowly watering eyes, told you it was precious for him and he was offering it to you as a gift of peace, as a token to seal his promise. You took it, slowly, reverently, afraid of letting it fall, and wrapped your fingers around it, pressing your fist with the small little thing to your chest.

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll go.”

He stood slowly, stiff and swaying, but he didn’t ask for help, he didn’t speak again, just looked at you one last time, like he was trying to memorize your face, not as something he wanted, but something he had once been allowed to care for, then he turned and walked, without a single glance back, just quiet footsteps down the stairs and further along the path towards the old and crooked houses of your neighbours, until his hunched frame dissolved in the shadows of the small streets jungle.

You had no idea how much self control Sihtric had needed not to turn back, not to look at you one more time, not to crumble beneath the weight of his own promise. He almost didn’t manage it, almost… And probably for the first time since that one first cold night in Dunholm’s basement, he also didn’t manage to bite back the hot tears, rolling down his cheeks. It hurt. He had almost forgotten how it was. He hadn’t expected the silence ever hurt him so much. The sad silence in your otherwise so lively eyes. 

You stood in the doorway long after he’d disappeared, the rag still in your one hand and your fist with the little bird in it pressed to your chest and even if you didn’t know, even if you didn’t see, your heart strangely raced and ached, not with anger, not even with relief, but with something unresolved, something that still lived in the silence he left behind

Life simply went on, you opened your stall each morning, flowers were arranged, water fetched, ribbons tied. You greeted customers, wrapped stems in linen, smiled when appropriate and people began returning, slowly, cautiously, as though unsure they were allowed to, but they did. 

The air around you felt lighter, easier, but quieter, too. 

Sihtric kept his promise. He did not come back.

Days passed, then a week and another one and with time, the rawness faded, but not entirely. His absence became something you folded into your routine, like the way your fingers adjusted your apron every morning and tucked away a stray hair just in case, or how you always looked up just before midday… and saw no one waiting across the square.

You told yourself it was for the best, you had asked for it, and he had respected it.

And yet, there were moments, brief and uninvited, when you’d catch yourself setting aside a flower without thinking, a daisy or a sprig of mint, and then you’d stare at it for a long time, heart caught in your throat, before shaking your head and brushing the thoughts away.

He was gone and you were safe, that should have been enough.

It was late afternoon when you heard the news, you were trading herbs with an older woman from the east side of town, gently packing her bouquet into a woven basket, when she mentioned it in passing.

“Did you hear? Lord Uhtred and his men are breaking camp at dawn. Off to chase some trouble to the north, they say. Bad timing, a storm’s coming too and not so good for the town. They were good customers, alehouse whores are not the only ones, who’ll miss them…,” she chuckled.

Your hands stilled, gripping the edge of the basket.

“They’re leaving?” you asked.

“Oh, yes, the whole camp’s nearly packed, they’ll be gone by sunrise. People are muttering about some big battle with the Danes.”

You nodded, forced a polite smile on your lips and continued arranging the flowers into the basket, trying not to pay attention to the strange feeling in your chest as if something had shifted, quietly but heavily.

You thanked the lady, you smiled, you turned back to your work, your hands kept busying around, aimlessly rearranging the daisies for the umpteenth time, but your thoughts had already followed him down that path you had told him to walk – out of your life, out of your sight, out of your reach, forever.

And he apparently was – into battle.

Sihtric gripped his sword tighter, sweat sliding down his back and his bare chest. He could barely feel his fingers anymore, the knuckles raw, calloused palms throbbing from the repeated shock of steel meeting steel, his breath came in sharp bursts through clenched teeth, but he didn’t stop.

“Again,” he growled.

Finan, across from him, exhaled sharply through his nose. “Sihtric,” he warned, raising his blade. “You’re bleeding on the grass and weaving like a drunk, that’s enough.”

“Again.”

Finan swore under his breath. “You’re going to collapse before we even get to the battlefield.”

Sihtric lunged anyway, wild and fast and desperate, Finan parried easily, sidestepped, knocked his legs out from under him with one swift motion and Sihtric hit the ground hard, his sword slipping from his grip.

“That’s enough,” Finan snapped. “By God, what’s wrong with you lately?”

Sihtric didn’t answer, he just lay there, breathing hard, staring up at the dimming sky. The weight of exhaustion pressed against him like a tide, and for a moment he thought he might sink into it completely, just close his eyes and drift away, maybe that wouldn’t even be such a bad thing. He hadn’t really slept for weeks now.

Then something shifted at the edge of his vision, he turned his head and froze. Finan followed his gaze and straightened, putting his sword over his shoulder. “Ah,” he murmured under his breath before turning away to leave. “So that’s what this is all about.”

Sihtric didn’t speak, he simply couldn’t, his body ached in every place he'd punished it, but it was nothing compared to the sudden, hollow, splitting pain in his chest. His heart pounded so violently he thought you might hear it from where you stood.

You stepped forward slowly, you didn’t smile but you didn’t look away either and as you came closer, Sihtric pushed himself up onto his knees.

He didn’t know if he should rise, he wasn’t even sure he had the strength left to stand. Why were you here? To hear him apologize again? To say goodbye? To tell him what he already knew, that he was his father’s son, not only by blood, but by the ruin he carried inside himself?

Whatever you had come for, he thought it couldn’t hurt him more than he had already hurt himself. Or could you? Somehow he wasn’t sure anymore. He just waited.

You hadn’t meant to come, not really, but when you had heard the rumors were true that Uhtred and his men would leave by dawn you just found yourself walking the path anyway, as if your feet knew something your mind hadn’t caught up with yet.

You watched him, standing just beyond the edge of the camp, you watched Sihtric sparring in the dying light and it was nothing like you had seen before, it was not for practice, not for sharpness or skill, it looked like punishment.

You watched as Finan knocked him to the ground, again and again, and he raised and kept going until he couldn’t anymore, until he just stayed there, breathing hard, broken beneath the sky.

He suddenly turned his head as if sensing your presence and everything stilled. His eyes widened, not with fear, not even with hope, just… disbelief, like you were a ghost, or a dream, like he didn’t know if he deserved to look.

You stepped forward, slowly as if afraid of what you were about to do, yet one step after another your feet brought you closer to Sihtric, and with each step the full cost of these past weeks became more and more visible. 

He was much thinner, the sharpness of his jaw more pronounced, even hollow beneath his cheekbones with dark lines beneath his eyes. His hair was a tangled mess, half-loose, dark strands matted to his forehead with sweat, his lip was cracked, blood drying at the corner and one of his hands still trembled faintly where it rested on his knee. He looked like a man slowly disappearing, one thread at a time.

You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t even know what you were doing here, you weren’t sure he would dare speak first, but then…

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice barely more than a rasp.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” you admitted.

He looked down at the ground. “I kept my word.”

“I know.”

“I haven’t been near the town. I haven’t… followed.” His voice cracked. “I meant it when I said I would stay away. Even if it killed me.”

Your eyes stung, as he looked up again. “But you’re here.”

You nodded, slowly. “I heard you were leaving.”

He swallowed, his eyes searching yours, palms resting on his thighs still kneeling. “I wasn’t expecting you to want to say goodbye.”

You stepped a little closer. “Why not?”

Sihtric shrugged with his shoulders and let out a soft, breathless sound, half a laugh, half a sob, barely there. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “Not right now.”

He lowered his gaze. “You look well.”

“And you…, you look like you’re trying to erase yourself from this world.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I never wanted you to hurt yourself, Sihtric. I wanted you to understand.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do now. I just… I didn’t know how to be any other way.”

You were quiet for a long moment then you stepped closer, close enough to kneel beside him, not touching, just beside, breathing in the same dusk-dampened air.

He remained still as stone beside you, the muscles in his arm taut beneath the bruises, the dirt, the silence.

You turned to look at him, his face half in shadow, there was a bruise darkening along his cheekbone, a cut on his brow that hadn’t been tended to properly and his chest rose and fell too fast, like he was waiting for something terrible to happen.

Slowly, so slowly it felt like a question, you reached out and touched him, your fingers brushed lightly against his arm, tracing down to his wrist where his skin was rough and calloused, he stiffened, eyes wide, but he didn’t pull away.

You felt the slight tremble in him, the breath he held, like he expected your touch to hurt. With the gentleness of someone handling something fragile, your hand moved higher, over his shoulder, along the line of his collarbone, and then, with the edge of your fingers, you brushed across a faint white scar on his chest, then another one just below the first one, running down to his ribs. 

He gasped, barely audible, like it surprised him. 

You didn’t speak, not yet, your thumb moved in a slow circle over another mark. There were more of them. 

His breath stilled completely.

His voice, when it finally broke the silence, was raw. “Why are you here?”

You looked up to meet his gaze. You were still not sure what to say, you just looked at him not with pity or fear, not anymore. 

“What if… what if I didn’t want to say goodbye?” you asked, almost surprised by your own words. Almost… because deep down you had known it, you had known it as you gifted all your remaining flowers to the children, as you took off your sign from your stall and left it on the table in your house, as you closed the shutters and locked the doors behind you, as you cast your last glance back towards your old, crooked home. 

Sihtric blinked, something broke in his face – not hard, not loud, just a quiet cracking, like water shifting when one dips fingers in it.

“What if,” you continued, your hand still resting lightly on his chest, “I wanted to show you what love looks like… when it isn’t tangled in fear?”

He didn’t speak, he couldn’t, tears welled quietly in his eyes but didn’t fall as he just stared at you, as if you were something he had never seen before, and maybe he hadn’t.

“Love?” he asked suddenly, and there was such raw bitterness in his voice that it made you flinch. “Nobody loves me. And I... I don’t even know how to.” His voice dropped to a broken whisper.

“I do,” you whispered back.

“You don’t have to know anything,” you added, placing your other hand gently on his shoulder. “You just have to want to learn.”

Sihtric’s lips parted, his throat working around words he didn’t know how to shape, instead, slowly, hesitantly, he lifted one hand and placed it over yours where it rested above his heart.

His big, rough palm, scarred and calloused from a lifetime of war, covered your small, soft hand like a protective shield, like armor, as if he was trying, in the only way he knew, to hold something precious without breaking it.

Sihtric’s hand trembled faintly where it rested over yours, as if even that small touch took more courage than swinging a sword, while his eyes searched your face with something scared lingering behind them, a fear to hope.

“What happens now?” he asked, voice so low you barely caught the words.

You looked at him, this battered, broken man who had never been taught how to be soft without hurting, how to be held without fighting, had somehow managed to preserve something deeply human and deeply good within him, like your favourite flower, like a wild thistle, adorned with thorns, so strong and yet so vulnerable, so enduring and yet so admirable.

You lifted your hand from his chest, only to slip it gently along the side of his face, fingertips ghosting over the line of his bruised cheekbone.

“Now,” you said quietly, “you let someone hold you... without fear.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe, just stared at you, like he didn’t dare believe it was real and then, slowly, almost painfully, the tension locked in his body seeped away.

You opened your arms and Sihtric, after a long, shuddering breath, leaned into them.

At first he was stiff, like he didn’t know what to do with himself, his arms hovered awkwardly at your sides, unsure whether he was allowed to touch you in return but when you tucked your head gently against his shoulder, when your hands smoothed over the broad line of his back, he melted.

His body sagged into yours with the heavy weight of someone who had carried too much for too long, his forehead dropped against the crook of your neck and his arms, tentative at first, wrapped around you, then tightened as though anchoring himself to the one and only thing that could steady him in a world he didn’t trust.

You felt him trembling, felt the shaky exhale he let out against your skin, as if some hidden dam inside him had cracked open quietly. You didn’t speak, you just held him, no expectations, no demands, only shelter, steadiness and love. 

And for the first time, Sihtric let himself be held, let himself believe, even if just for a moment, that he was still worthy of this gentleness, still worthy of saving.

[kitscutie]

august (conrad fisher x reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂ꜱ𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: ᖯ𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗄𝗂ꜱꜱ𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝖽 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽

𝗉.ꜱ: 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 ꜱ𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇ꜱ𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 ᖯ𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂ꜱ 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 - 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗒𝗅𝖺𝗇, 𝗂𝗍'ꜱ 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎ꜱ𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍 ᖯ𝗎𝗍 ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽!

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 ꜱ𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄-𝗎𝗉ꜱ 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺ꜱ𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋ꜱ, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒ꜱ, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐ꜱ 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽.

a/n: been wanting to write this for a while so BOOM here it is, sooo excited for season two, also im in a deep dylan obrien depression i need help :p ALSO sorry like all my fics are in different styles at the start i'm experimenting atm!

You and Conrad Fisher had known each other since you had popped out of the womb nineteen years ago in the same hospital, only a floor and two hours keeping you apart.

Your moms had been friends since rooming at college and so your friendship, some might say, had been written in the stars quite literally. Fate.

Things had started to change on your sixteenth birthday. It was just before the annual summer reunion, and of course, you and your mom had gone down just one week earlier in order to have a joint birthday celebration with the Fishers and stayed until the Conklin's arrived.

You had hit puberty and he hadn't seen you since the big change but when he did, his eyes could've fell from his skull. It was almost comedic. Of course at the time his stares meant little to you. He was your best friend after all.

Until last year. It was the start of summer bonfire and all was normal. Belly was at home, Jeremiah was off talking to girls with Steven which left you and Conrad. You found it strange he didn't have the same interest in girls as Steven and Jeremiah but who were you to say anything. You wanted him to stay.

Long story short he finally made a move and a kiss began in the abandoned life-guard tower a couple feet away from the main event, it was all going well, almost too well. And you were proven correct when Steven and Jeremiah came down the beach looking for you and found you in that very compromising position.

Seeing as they weren't exactly in a place to talk they agreed to keep it a secret and so it became the new norm for them, seeing the two of you together while your mom, Susannah, Laurel and Belly were non the wiser.

The bonfire was in full-swing, Summer had officially begun and what better way to start it than in the lap of Conrad Fisher on Cousins Beach.

He was sat cross legged on the blanket you'd brought from the house, while you sat atop him, legs either side of his own.

"I just think we should be nicer to her, I mean that was us three years ago." You sighed, you'd had a beer or two and were feeling increasingly guilty about the disallowance of Belly to come tonight.

"None of us were allowed out at sixteen, it's only fair." Conrad replied, voice low and relaxed. Something you appreciated about him, he was a very soothing person.

"Yeah, but that's different! We all had each other and now-" You began but he cut you off with a groan.

"Can we please not talk about Belly when your sat on me?" He said, smile gracing his lips.

You began to 'ew' and berate him but were soon cut off by his lips on yours, one of his hands holding your jaw in place while the other sat comfortably on the upper part of your thigh.

It didn't take much for you to open up, his tongue instantly hitting against yours as he deepened the kiss. When your mouths disconnected, it made a sound which made your head go light and airy.

"Do you still feel bad?" He whispered. Hand moving up to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"No." You answered, shooting forward to connect your lips once more. He chuckled into the kiss, teeth clashing together but you didn't care you just wanted him.

His spare hand slowly and nonchalantly drifted to the hem of your shorts, groping your ass gently, you were still in public after all and Conrad wanted to be able to say he had an ounce of class and respect. Even if it was a lie.

A disruption to the left of you and Conrad caught your attention and you went to turn your head, lips still interlocked but he denied that, hand on your jaw tightening and turning your head back to look at him.

The final straw was a resounding 'Ooh' from the crowd and you decided no matter what he did you were going to see what was happening.

Finally turning your head you found Belly. On the floor. And looking directly at you. A lot was wrong with that.

"Shit, Conrad." You said, which finally got his face away from placing delicate kisses across your jaw and to see the same thing as you. His face also dropping.

"Belly?" He said, unable to stop himself in disbelief.

Really this would've been the right time to get out of his lap but you were frozen in fear, forgetting you were sat there in the first place.

"I thought me and Y/N were like your sisters." She said, anger painted on her face. You didn't like confrontation in the first place and so saying something was hard but you couldn't let Belly think badly of you or Conrad.

"Belly look- it's different-" You defended, but she once again cut you off in anger and while your throat tightened in anxiety, you felt Conrad's hand soothe over your back. Reassuring and subtle.

"Different? I know him just as well as you do. It's not different." She seethed. Stepping closer to the two of you.

"Belly, c'mon you know what I mean." You whispered unintentionally. Your eyes were going glassy, feeling looks from all around you. Some in agreeance with you, some with her but none knew the full story.

"We've been together since last year. It was after you left to take Steven to look at Colleges." Conrad stepped in while Belly processed. Preventing another dig at you.

"I thought you weren't ready for a relationship and that, may I remind you again, we're like sisters to you?" Belly replied.

"I didn't-" Conrad started though a hurt look from you cut him off. "Look I said that like two years ago, it isn't even relevant anymore. Clearly." He said. Eyes connecting with you to reassure you, not her.

"You're such a brat." He added, seeing the affect her words had on you.

"Well you're an asshole." Belly yelled back, all while you sat stunned and quiet.

"Belly! You came, great, we can all hang out." Jeremiah said enthusiastically running over. You appreciated his intervention, as obvious as it was that he was trying to distract her.

"I'm about to take her home." Steven cut him off.

"What?" Jeremiah said, confused. Though the situation was bad she was old enough to be out past ten pm. Whether Steven liked it or not.

"Yeah, we're leaving, are you kidding me?" Steven replied as if it was obvious. Grabbing her hand.

"Ok, Steven come on. Go hang out with Shayla or something." Jeremiah answered and you couldn't help but admire the boy and his love for Belly.

You tore your eyes away from the conversation above you as they dispersed, looking back at Conrad who was sighing and pushing hair from his face.

"It'll be okay." You said, knowing what he needed without having to ask.

"I know." He smiled gently, though his eyes didn't fully match. He was worried, and you couldn't blame him.

Belly knew, and worst of all, just five months ago she had confided in you about her crush on Conrad and so it was unclear if she would ever even speak to you again.

Guilt was swallowing you whole.

[bluebnny]

Scenario - they take an interest in your hobby

characters: law, ace, kid

contents: what the title says, just how i think they would engage with your hobby, G/N reader, fluff

warnings: none

a/n: ok i'm trying something new bc the longer fics are, well, longer and i want to also try more characters :) and this was sooo much fun to write! Let me know if you would like a part 2, because i already have ideas (i mean i'll post it anyway, but y'know, maybe there's some specific characters or hobbies you would like me to include). Sort of proofread. Dividers made by me, please enjoy!! <3

word count: 2.313 (700-900 each)

Law - Fandom

Law would love to have a partner who’s into fandom just as much as him. He excels at being a pirate, being amidst the most sought after in the world and known everywhere for his ruthlessness and cruelty. But the nerdy fanboy side of him is a little neglected at times. As it turns out, not a lot of pirates really care about Sora, Warrior of the Sea as much as he does, if they are interested in comics at all, that is.

I think he would immediately become even more head over heals upon finding out that his partner likes to read them too. He’d like it if you had the same taste as him, but would probably prefer it if you didn’t, because it means you two could give each other recommendations and even swap comics to read.

If you’re also a pirate with your own crew, you two would naturally spend long amounts of time away from each other. You usually go months at a time before meeting up again. So, as with any long-distance relationship, you have to get creative and make it a whole thing.

When you two see each other, you’re constantly talking about what comic you read, how far you are in the story, talking about your favourite characters, and sharing your own interpretations and theories. It quickly becomes the highlight of every encounter you have, both of you already looking forward to the next reunion the moment you part ways. This is also when you have the chance to swap back the books you had borrowed from one another, and to give each other the next volume in the series.

When you’re apart, however sad it makes you, at least you have each other’s books to cling on to, both of you having a special spot to keep them safe. Yours was on your nightstand, liking to read in the evening before bed, or even during the night if you can’t sleep. Since you miss Law, having the comics he lends you always in reach makes you feel a little less alone, and it just makes you look forward to your next reunion that much more. Law keeps yours in his desk in the top drawer, so he can quickly reach for it when he’s too distracted to work. He would rather die than tell you this, but he always pretends it’s your voice reading it aloud to him. You had done that one time when he had had his hands full, wanting to show him a funny passage. He loves imagining the intonation you would use for every line, and how you would chuckle at a specific joke, your laughter echoing in his head.

You basically have a two-person book club at this point and have started leaving little pieces of paper with notes and theories in the books after reading them, maybe even the occasional drawing. It’s always a comfort to read through your favourite volume again and stumble upon a little note from your partner.

Law loves reading your random thoughts on certain characters, everything from who you ship, to what food the characters would like (you make it a point to add “bread” for all the ones you think law would like most, and “onigiri” for those he would hate, just to tease him). It always puts a smile to his face. The notes you find in your books are less creative, but they make you burst out with laughter, because they’re just so Law. The most common thing you find are little post-it notes critiquing medical inaccuracies, like “Patient bleeding out from cut in abdomen! Chest compressions would NOT help with this !???” He even adds citations if it’s less obvious knowledge, as if he thinks you will fact check him or something. The rest are usually weirdly accurate predictions for how a specific aspect of the story will unfold. When you question him about it, he will assure you he hasn’t read ahead, always saying “Well, it’s obviously what’s going to happen!”

Whenever you dock at a new island, you always see if there’s a place that sells comics, trying to find new stuff to read, and keeping a list of titles to lend the other once you’re done.

Ace - Pottery/Clay

Ace, curious as ever, would instantly take an interest in any one of your hobbies, as it means also taking an interest in you. He’ll notice you moulding some clay one day and become super interested in hearing about it. From then on, every time he sees you working on something, he’ll rush over and ask what you’re making, genuine interest on his face. He loves that his partner is talented and will quickly start to brag about it to anyone who will listen.

He'll even go as far as to ask you to teach him, and his attention is immediately caught by the polymer clay with all its different colours, especially after you show him some simple things you’d made from them, like some charms in different colours.

Ace learns. Fast. But if you go over to him to watch him work, he’ll stubbornly hide it, telling you it isn’t ready yet. It wouldn’t take him very long to make stuff, though, generally focusing on smaller items. He also had the enormous advantage of his particular devil fruit; he could simply hold what he made in his hands and bake it just like that, wherever and whenever.

Contrary to Ace, you prefer working with natural clay, being far more durable and versatile, but also taking much longer, as it needs time to dry before being burned in a kiln for days. This isn’t a big issue if you’re not on the same crew, though. If you’re on different ships, you often go months without seeing each other, but since Ace has quite a bit of freedom as first commander of the 2nd division, he would sometimes visit you on a whim if you were within a day’s travel of each other.

Being the best, most affectionate boyfriend in the world, Ace always made a quick stop somewhere first to pick up a snack for you, even stopping to pick a handful of wildflowers or a pretty seashell to bring you if there was no town nearby. You had always insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but he would have none of it, preferring to act like some sort of bird performing a mating ritual than visit his partner empty-handed. Plus, despite you teasing him for his seashells and shiny rocks, he knows you keep them all in a little box under your bed, with the dates of his visits written on each one.

You had always liked knowing he took that tiny bit of extra time and effort to put a smile on your face, even if it was just from handing you a funny looking acorn. But after being introduced to your hobby, Ace’s casual presents have become more thoughtful, now almost always showing up with a little handmade something. The first time he showed up with a creation he deemed good enough, the gesture rendered you speechless. And he remembered that.

Ace’s first gift to you was a bracelet made of red beads that matched the ones on his necklace, just a little smaller. You were torn on how to react. On the one hand, you were about to cry from how sweet of a gesture it was, on the other, you couldn’t stop smiling over the fact that the beads were a little uneven in size and shape. It was so endearing to you, seeing how Ace was clearly still in the process of developing the precise fine motor skills required for making little beads.

His second handmade gift was a little flame-shaped charm made from red, orange, and yellow clay mixed together. It had a little hole at the top. “For putting on a necklace.” He explained. This time, you had a gift of your own ready, already expecting his. You had made him a personalized bright orange mug with a red handle shaped like the beads on his necklace. This time, he was the one to get emotional.  

His third present was far more impressive than the first two, not that you were comparing them. He had made a tiny replica of his hat, again with a little hole in the brim, so that you could use it as a lucky charm.

“Ace, this is amazing! I should teach you to cook next.” You joke, but he sees the emotion in your eyes as you hold it close to your chest.

Kid - Knitting

Kid is not the type of guy to avidly ask about your hobbies, and he won’t sit and watch you for hours while you do them (at least not openly). But he does love you, so he takes an interest, nonetheless. You had previously joked that he should take up knitting as a calming activity, since he’s an emotional guy who often gets angry, but he had just scoffed and ignored you, preferring to stick to metal.

It started on a slow afternoon, with you sitting on the deck and knitting while enjoying the afternoon sun. Kid was nearby, staring at the horizon, lost in thought, the only sounds around the rushing of the ocean and the soft clicking of your knitting needles.

“Shit!” It’s you who breaks the silence first, having stopped your movements. Your boyfriend only reacts with an absent-minded hum, eyes still locked on the ocean. “My stupid needle broke.” You continue, trying to minimize the damage to your work now that all the loops were falling off. “Kid, do you think you could make me another?” You ask him, finally pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Another? You already have a million, no? Just get one from your stash.” He answers, not annoyed, simply confused. You get up from your spot and walk over to him to explain the different sizes, and how all your other ones were either too big or too small. He seems mildly interested, examining the two broken halves you hand him.

“I can make this.” He simply states when you are done explaining.

“Really? You’re amazing!” You pull him into a tight embrace, partly to show your gratitude, partly because he’s just a really good hugger, so any excuse is welcome.

“Calm down, it’s just a stick. No big deal…” But his chest swells a bit at the prospect of being able to assist you, and so you follow him into his workshop, where he makes another in no time.

From then on, he became more interested. You even tried to teach him, but he simply couldn’t get the hang of it, quickly becoming enraged at every mistake and making the learning curve extremely steep with his regular outbursts. You give up on it after that, thinking it simply wasn’t his thing and at least glad he tried to take an interest in it.

So, you’re all the more surprised when he walks up to you the next time he finds you knitting, and confidently asks “How do you do that pattern?” as though it was the most normal question in the world. You start explaining, only getting more and more confused from the way he actually seems to be trying to understand.

After that, Kid spends the next days mostly in his workshop. It doesn’t strike you as odd, since he has a habit of disappearing every now and then. What you did not expect, however, was for him to request you in his workshop, to then hand you a hat that he had clearly made himself. It’s a little rough around the edges – kid doesn’t seem to have fully gotten the hang of how to properly do a decreasing stitch – but it still looks much better than his first attempt.

“I know you and your crew are planning to go to that winter island next, so I thought I’d make you this.” It’s evident how hard he’s trying to look tough while carefully putting the bright red hat on your head. “Y’know. So you don’t get cold.” He even attempts to remain stoic when you give him a tight squeeze but is clearly pleased that you like it.

“How? I thought you hated knitting.”

“I did.” He admits. “But then I remembered how easy it was to make you that needle. And I thought that I should just make some metal ones for myself and control them with my fruit. It’s not as much of a pain in the ass like that.” He explains, and you have to hold back a smirk at how cute he is talking about knitting of all things, despite being over 2 metres tall and generally a little scary looking.

Next time you see him; after returning from the winter island, there’s something off about the crew. You quickly realize that it’s due to them all wearing matching knitted hats.

You look at Kid questioningly, but he just grumbles and says “I don’t want to hear it. Killer and the others have already been giving me enough shit for it.”

But the crew’s teasing isn’t enough to stop his newfound hobby. More often than not, you find him somewhere on the ship with some knitting needles floating next to him, clicking away at lightning speed as he makes yet another hat, grumbling something about how knitting is “very in line with my political ideology” and that “going against over consumption by making my own clothes is extremely punk.”

One evening, while Kid is in his workshop – no doubt knitting another hat – Killer pulls you aside and whispers “Look, I really like the hats, he’s getting weirdly good at making them, but everyone on the crew already has at least two pairs. Could you maybe teach him socks next?”

Thank you so much for reading! (This is my fic, don't repost! Reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[zombiigrll]

Hey! I saw you wanted request sooo how about reader, carl, and a couple other people go on a run to get stuff for negan, but on the run a herd comes. They can’t handle the herd so the reader distracts the herd but ends up getting lost. The rest of the group had to leave to avoid the herd and carl is broken up about it. Months pass and carl thinks reader is dead and grieves her until one day she shows back up at alexandria and they reunite!

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BACK FROM THE 'DEAD.' ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader

.ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.2K

꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort, use of y/n, lineup (twd 7x1) mention, blood, gore, zombie apocalypse stuff, swearing, kissing !!

.ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you had gotten lost protecting your friends from a herd, and everyone thought you had died. that was until you arrived back at alexandria weeks later.

꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ thank you SO MUCH for the request anon! i had so much fun writing this i hope you enjoy!! <3

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"y/n..." a familiar voice called. "wake up.." the voice was soft, and whoever's voice it belonged to was shoving you in an attempt to wake you up.

"mmm." you rolled over and covered the blanket over your head stubbornly.

"my dad says we have to go on a run. we have to get supplies for.. negan."

right. negan.

that got you to move the blanket off of your head and look back at the boy talking to you somberly.

carl was always so gentle with you, despite all that he was going through. he was there in the lineup with you, too. but afterwards, he was more worried how you felt than how he felt.

whenever you'd ask, he'd simply shrug it off, saying he's fine, or he's felt worse.

he brought up a hand to your sleepy face, moving a strand of hair from your face before resting his palm on your jaw.

"i know it sucks." he sighs, but he still smiles at you.

you sit up and rub your eyes, an exhausted groan leaving your mouth. "when do we have to leave?"

"whenever you're ready." he runs his hands through your hair, trying to comfort you.

"alright." you give him a quick kiss before standing up, stretching as you walk over to grab your clothes.

...

you, carl, rick, and aaron were all in a big truck, driving around to find some place that had even the slightest chance of supplies for the saviors. you were quiet the entire time, anxious thinking about the saviors and the lineup. you didn't want anything to happen to anyone in your group again. you'd make sure nothing happened.

carl was always watching you, making sure nothing happened to you. even during the lineup, he shouted when negan pointed his bat toward you. begging for him to stop messing with you. he almost got himself killed, and you weren't going to let that happen again.

"here, stop here." rick says, knocking on the outside of his door through the window.

aaron pulls to the side of the road, in front of an outdoor shopping outlet.

you hop out of the car, grabbing your backpack as you exit and you put it around to droop off of your shoulder. carl follows, getting out of the car right after.

aaron and rick walk steadily in front as the two of you trail behind them.

carl nudges your shoulder slightly, looking at you with a worried expression. "you doing alright?"

you nod, licking your lips in thought. "i'm doing good. are you doing alright?"

"it doesn't matter how i'm doing-"

"yes, it does, carl." you look at him, a serious expression plastered on your face. "don't keep brushing the question off. how are you doing?"

"...best i can in our situation." carl laughs, a bit awkwardly, surprised by your seriousness.

you look forward, continuing to walk. "you can talk to me, y'know."

carl looks at you confused as he catches back up to you. "sorry?"

"you can talk to me. it doesn't always have to be how i'm doing, what i'm going through. you're going through things, too."

carl silently nods, continuing to walk.

the four of you stop in front of two stores.

"you two can check out this side, me an' aaron will check out the other." rick points to you and carl, gesturing for you two to check the right side.

you and carl nod at each other and begin walking into the right side, looking at all the stores.

"which store do we check first?" you ask carl, looking around.

"here, this one." carl begins walking into a store, and you follow quickly behind.

you begin rummaging through the shelves, grabbing anything useful you can find. you huff loudly shaking your head. "this is stupid. this should be our stuff."

"i agree." carl nods, clearly equally as annoyed as you. "grab some things for yourself. we can hide them somewhere outside the walls."

you look up with a smile, immediately grabbing things more eagerly. carl laughs a bit at your reaction. how easy it is to make you happy, even on bad days like this.

the two of you finished up quickly in the store and began walking around, looking at all the different shops. there weren't many on your guys' side that were worth looking. there were lots of game shops, book stores.. things you guys would have to make time for on a separate run.

"do you think we're ready to go check in with rick?" you ask as you zip up your backpack, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"yeah, i think we got everything we can get over here." carl walks over to your side, grabbing your hand and interlocking your guys fingers together, smiling at you.

the two of you start making your way back over to the left side of the shopping center, looking around for aaron and rick.

but then, you heard growls. loud growls. and lots of them.

you look around for where the sound is coming from, but aaron and rick quickly run out of a store.

"do you two hear that?" aaron asks as he looks around.

"yes, where is it coming from?" you look around frantically with him, but then you spot something behind him.

walkers. a herd of them.

you point behind them and they look over. you pull out your gun quickly.

"they're right next to the car, we won't make it." rick shakes his head, pointing his gun to the walkers.

you look at them, then over at carl. his eyes were wide and he had his gun up, too, shaking.

you walk forward a bit, looking further into the herd. "...i'll distract them."

"what?!" carl whisper-yells, looking at you like you were insane. "fuck no. you're not-"

"i love you carl." you grab his face and give him a quick kiss. "i'm not letting you guys die. not like this."

you start running, gun in hand pointing to the herd and shooting at them.

"please, wait- y/n!" carl yells, but you're too far away for him to catch up.

you pull out your knife and begin stabbing the walkers close to you, their rotten blood splattering onto your clothes.

they were surrounding you, but you slashed at them as fast as you could, occasionally pulling your gun out to shoot them.

"no, no!" you hear carl yell. you turn your head and see rick pulling him into the car.

he was crying.

when you paused to turn around, you noticed that the walkers stopped paying attention to you. and when you looked down, you noticed you covered- drenched- in blood. you knew that most of it was walker blood, but you were worried some of it could be yours, too.

you didn't have any idea on where to go. you were stuck, letting the walkers roam past you. and the car was already long gone by now.

so, you pretended to be a walker. it was insane, but it worked. you walked back to the mall and quickly shoved yourself into one of the stores.

"oh, god.." you cried, setting the back of your head on the wall and dragging yourself down along it.

you looked down at your bloodstained hands. you were trembling. you were experiencing a fear you had never felt before.

"am i bit?" you spoke to yourself, rolling your sleeves up and trying to wipe away the blood on your arms, despite your hands being covered in blood. you checked your waist, legs, arms, everything. no bites.

you sighed in relief, a hand on your heart as you caught your breath.

...

it had been weeks. you couldn't find alexandria, your memory of the way back getting lost somewhere in your panic from that herd. but you were still looking, determined to find alexandria. to find carl.

your hair was longer, your eyes were darker, you were dirty. you were lucky to have your backpack and that whole mall for the first couple of weeks.

but now, you were somewhere in the woods, aimlessly looking around for alexandria. despite the fact that everyone there had probably thought you were long gone, including carl. i mean, who survives being in the middle of a herd? you didn't think you would.

you were probably slowly going insane, all of the days without any social interaction were catching up to you. you'd frequently catch yourself dozing off, saying things to yourself trying to keep yourself stable.

but then, for the first time in forever, you heard a voice. it wasn't super familiar, but you recognized it. they were next to the road you saw that laid right next to the woods you were walking in.

you stepped out of the woods, and you instantly spotted michonne.

"who's there?" michonne called out, taking her sword out and pointing it towards you. you put your hands up as you step further out so she can see you. "...y/n?"

her voice went soft as she dropped her sword. she ran over to you, hugging you tightly.

"michonne.." your voice was hoarse after not speaking for weeks, but she could tell it was you.

"i thought you were dead.. everyone thought you were dead." she put her hands on your shoulders comfortingly.

"i thought i was, too." you laughed, tears forming in your eyes. "is.. is carl okay?"

"yes, he's okay." michonne nodded. "he's been talking about you a lot. he really misses you."

"how far is alexandria?" you asked with a smile. "i really need to see carl."

"it's back over this way. i haven't been walking long. i'll go ahead of you and get carl, you can surprise him." michonne smiles, picking up her sword and putting it back as she speaks.

"okay.." you nod. "what should i even say? am i just going to be like 'hey carl, i'm back from the 'dead,' sorry i made you grieve even thought i'm alive!' ..what if he's mad?"

"he'd never get mad at you. you know that." michonne pats your back. "alexandria is a straight shot this way. take some time to prepare yourself, i'll be on the other side with carl when you're ready."

you nod and wave. right as she walks back, you sit down on the concreate road.

was this real? was all of this really happening? in the slim chance of you coming back, it actually happened.

you looked through your backpack quickly, remembering that you had a ton of comics that you and carl read when you guys were little. you pulled them out and put your backpack on again, walking in the direction of alexandria, bracing yourself for whatever will happen.

michonne was right, it wasn't too far from where you had met her. you must've been walking for just around 5 minutes when you found the place. you looked up at the watch tower, spotting a figure with a very familiar sheriffs hat on top.

you stood in front of the gate, and the person in the watch tower yelled. "who are you?"

you were sure now that it was carl.

you raised your hands, unsure what to say. you knew he wouldn't recognize you, your clothes different and your hair messy.. you looked up from the corner of your eye and noticed michonne tapping his shoulder, and him disappearing.

the gates opened in front of you, and you saw carl and michonne standing there.

carl looked confused, that was until you looked up.

"hi." you muttered nervously.

"holy shit."

he ran up to you, bringing you into a hug that pushed you two to the ground, his hat falling down next to him.

you returned it, sobbing into his chest.

"i'm so... sorry.." you cried, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

he rested his head in the crook of your neck. "no, no.. don't be." his voice broke, making it clear he was crying with you. "i.. i love you, y/n. so much. i.. you're really here? you're alive?" he put his hands on your shoulders, quickly moving them up to your face, examining your features to make sure it was you.

"yes.." you smiled, tears flowing down your cheeks as you brought your hands up to his. "i'm real. i'm alive.."

he starts laughing, causing a few more tears to slip out of his eye. "how the hell did you survive being in the middle of a herd..?"

"i.. looked back at the car and i saw you. by then, i was covered in walker blood. somehow, my body stopping and smelling like walker guts made them confuse me with a walker... so i played along." you rubbed your thumb along carls hand as you nervously spoke.

he looked at you with a saddened expression, his brows furrowing as he takes you back into his arms. he lifts you up with him, grabbing his hat as he stands up and placing it back on top of his head. he looks down at you and smiles.

"i love you so much." he cries.

you had never really seen him cry before. not like this. he was being genuine.

"i love you so much, too." you cried with him, looking into his eyes happily.

you were happy. he was happy. despite everything, you were in each others arms finally, holding one another. you were supposed to be dead, but you lived. finally... with the only person you ever wanted to be with.

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[signedkoko]

HII I have been reading your writing for a while now and I lOVE IT! I've been waiting to put in a req when they got open sooo! (Your writing always makes me hAPPYY when they come out) <33 Any chance of an Overlord!GN reader with Mammon / Striker? Just general romantic Headcannons- Like how it is to date them/everyday stuff with them (The reader is always serious (and tall 👀) and owns a big casino in pride (Maybe Mammon taking interest in it? idk))

Mammon | Striker [Romantic]

In which you are their overlord s/o that owns the largest casino in the pride ring. Reader is genderneutral.

The guy looks like a total clown next to you

And he is, but he loses any sense of danger when he's standing next to you, who happens to be just a few inches taller than him

Your cold sneer next to that goofy grin, like he knows he's totally lucked out having such a hottie for an s/o

To many in the greed ring, he was the greediest of all, but when they came up top to the sinners realm and met some of the overlords that roamed the lands, they started to realize that yeah, maybe Mammon wasn't so bad

While Mammon used to attract many fans, ever since you two became an item, they've stayed far, far away

At first, he hated it because it meant he couldn't scam some pathetic sinners

But you had the idea that he could come by your casino for official meet and greets; that way, people would pay the entrance fee for you and him for just fucking around in a casino all day

Mammon is actually kind of an airhead at times

He isn't stupid, but he isn't all there, especially when with you; he just turns his brain off and lets you do the thinking

You're better at it anyways

During extermination, you can't go down and be safe with him; he will often come up just to ensure your safety

Sure, you seem scarier, but that's only because he is in his smaller form

You two are a literal power couple; you could take over all of hell if you tried hard enough

Striker always preferred to stay away from the pride ring

Sinners were such a hassle, especially keeping up with the overlords and what they considered 'theirs'

In fact, he'd stay in wrath all the time if he could, but business always called for his presence in the upper ring

He isn't stupid enough to fall into the grip of an overlord-run casino, but more than one of his targets did

Your security caught him more than once sneaking angelic weapons into your casino

The third time it happened was enough, and you came forward yourself to speak to the man

He was charming and convincing, but you weren't one to let things slide so easily

You promised he could do whatever he liked with your occupants, given that he gets their casino dues in

And well, for how much he was paid, that wasn't too terrible a deal

The two of you ended up a bit more than intertwined, though, and the assassin managed to worm his way into your heart

And god, was it ever a sight

One of the oldest overlords that towered over anyone that came before them, with a face like a funeral, next to an imp

An imp no one really knew, either

At the end of the day, the only people who dared question you were other overlords, but they tended to leave their noses out of others business, respectfully or not

While you could defend yourself rather well, Striker is more than happy to handle anyone who dares try to touch you

Interrogations are useful, you know; that way, he can kill off the whole chain of command

He's very romantic and gentlemanly with you, even if you don't ask for such from him

Don't think your position of power will ever make him feel like he is the lesser; he will take good care of you no matter who you are

Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting, I'm glad you got a chance! It was a nice break going back to some Helluva Boss characters (not that I hate writing hazbin, but it was a lot of requests).

[n0vazsq]

Heyyyyo, im sooo glad ur requests are open again (as much as i adore ur smaus)

Could you please write a story arvid decides to visit his home town sithout telling anyone and he decides to surprise his gf by picking her up from school with flowers and her fav drink and when he does he notices she's wearing one of his hoodies and he teases her. And/or maybe she gets like a bit emotional or clingy when she sees him and he gets worried bcos he thinks he's done smth wrong but she just missed him a lot and is like "I really needed this)

I love you so | AL4 x Reader

pairing . . . arvid lindblad x gf!reader

summary . . . Arvid decides to surprise you with a vistit to your hometown, and until you're hugging him and his hands are wrapped around you, he never knew how much he needed it

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . !PART OF MINI FIC SERIES! OMD THIS WAS SO CUTE?? i'm gonna cry i love this req <3 moodboard is SHIT so ignore that pls! NOT PROOFREAD

animated divider by @toastray !!

. . . The last thing you expected to see when you left your school was to see your boyfriend, Arvid, but there he was, in the flesh. When he saw you, he grinned widely, quickly running over to you.

Your legs were frozen to the ground, shocked to see him here, it was as if your body hasn't yet processed the shock of seeing him rush over to you, a massive bouquet and your favourite drink clutched in his hands.

Arvid slowed down slightly as he approached you, the flowers in his hand forcefully pushing you away, his hair was tousled from the wind, but the glimmer in his eyes as he stared at you was obvious. If your body could move, you were sure you would've passed out right then and there.

Finally, after staring at him in stunned silence, you gave him a wide smile, stammering out whatever sentence you could form right now.

"I-You-This is-You’re actually here! In front of me!"

He let out a laugh, scanning your face as to memorise it after all this time of you being seperated. "I am! I'm here! This is for you, sorry if it's a bit big," Arvid rubbed the back of his neck as you took the gigantic bouquet from his hand, a lovesick smile adorning your face.

"And this is your favourite drink, I was going to take you out for dinner then remembered that you have that exam tomorrow, so I decided on thi-" Before he could finish, you stepped forward, your heart racing, and pulled him into a kiss.

His words faltered as your lips met his, cutting off his sentence and sending a rush of warmth through both of you. He froze for just a second, surprised by the sudden move, but then his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but it quickly deepened. It was like everything else in the world melted away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment that felt both fleeting and endless at the same time.

When you finally pulled away, Arvid's eyes were wide, the shock still lingering in them, and you couldn't help but smile softly, breathless. You pulled him into a deep hug, arms wrapping around his neck tightly, as if he'd disappear if you let go.

He hugged back, inhaling sharply as he rested his chin on your shoulder, rubbing circles on your back. You let out a small sigh, the comfort of being in his embrace filling you with warmth and butterflies.

After you pulled back, Arvid stared at you with a teasing grin, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Is that my hoodie? The one that mysteriously disappeared and I had to replace?"

"It is your hoodie, and it's not my fault it's just so comfortable and smells like you." A blush rushed to your cheeks as you laughed slightly, his teasing stare not helping to ease the butterflies in your stomach.

"If you told me earlier, I would've given you my entire wardrobe." The blush on your cheeks deepened as you looked away, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes at him, pulling him into another tight hug. His shoulders relaxing as he let out a soft exhale, tightening his hold on you in the slightest bit.

"I really needed this." He murmered against your shoulder, fingers toying with the end of your hair.

"Me too, and thanks by the way, for the bouquet and the drink, and this."

"Anything for you." Arvid mumbled softly, his voice almost a whisper carried by the wind.

"I love you."

"I love you so."

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @eloriis ,, @linnygirl09 ,, @joaosnovia ,, @fastcarsgonyoem (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[moonstruckme]

hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius. 

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara. 

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?” 

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge. 

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?” 

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat. 

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye. 

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears. 

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either). 

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?” 

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.” 

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily. 

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home. 

Sirius nods. 

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek. 

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest. 

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?” 

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side. 

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?” 

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him. 

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home. 

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair. 

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs. 

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?” 

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

 “It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching. 

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.” 

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.” 

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently. 

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers. 

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.” 

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.” 

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow. 

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.” 

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.” 

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?” 

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing. 

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?” 

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.” 

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.” 

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

[nightwriter357]

Just friends - Those two are so obvious

Soo.. here's part two of my Damien Haas x reader story called 'Just friends'. I'm really enjoying writing this and I hope you guys don't mind that the chapters are a bit shorter than usual.

Love you all xxx

Those two are so obvious

You sat on the couch with your roommates, Damien and Shayne, finally winding down for Friday night. The comforting hum of the television filled the room, punctuated only by the occasional laughter from Shayne or the soft clinking of ice in your drink. It was a rare relief after a long week, and you were soaking it in, savoring every sip as you leaned back into the plush cushions. The chaos of work and responsibilities faded away, leaving just the three of you in this cozy bubble.

Shayne glanced at his phone, swiping through messages before looking up with a thoughtful expression. “So... I was thinking—if it’s cool with you guys—that I might have Courtney over tonight?” His tone was casual, but you could sense the hint of excitement in his voice.

You and Damien exchanged a look, eyebrows raised. Damien leaned forward with a smirk. "Sooo... like a date?"

Shayne's face scrunched in protest. "No, more like a movie night on the couch."

You took a sip, nodding as if pondering deeply. "Oh, so like... a date?"

Rolling his eyes, Shayne waved a hand. "No, not a date—just two friends watching a movie. Like you two did last week."

You tilted your head, your smirk growing. "Totally different. Damien and I didn't cuddle and gaze into each other's eyes."

Shayne shot you a pointed look. "Yeah? Because I came home to find you two fast asleep in each other's arms on this exact couch."

You nudged his arm defensively. "Hey, that was different. I was... sad."

Shayne huffed a laugh. "Yeah, because of the emotional depth of 'Shallow Hal'?"

Damien rested a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head in solidarity. "No, the whole concept of the movie was sad."

You looked back at Damien, nodding with mock seriousness. "Exactly."

Shayne shook his head, still smiling. "So... can I invite her over?"

"Of course," you said, waving him off. "We'll clear out, maybe have a movie night of our own."

Damien's eyes lit up. "Oh, definitely."

Shayne grinned. "Good. 'Cause she's already on her way."

You leaned back with a smirk. "So what would you have done if we'd said no?"

Shayne didn't miss a beat, shrugging with a deadpan expression. "Killed you."

There was a beat of silence as the words hung in the air, then Damien let out a laugh, nudging you. "Well," he chuckled, "guess we dodged a bullet."

You snorted, giving Shayne a look. "Good to know where we stand."

The two of you headed into Damien's room, where he quickly shuffled around, clearing some space on the bed. He turned back to you, gesturing around the room. "Alright, so what's the plan?"

You folded your arms, already plotting. "We spy on them, gather intel, then nudge the conversation in the right direction until they're planning a wedding. April Fool's Day, obviously."

Damien raised a brow. "Of course—April Fool's Day. Any reason?"

You looked back at him and shrugged. "It would be funny."

He grinned. "Can't argue with that. Alright, what's step one?"

You leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if plotting some grand heist. "Wait for her to show up," you said, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then we peek out and assess. Get a vibe check... and when the moment's right, we go out there and nudge them in the right direction."

Damien glanced at the floor with a chuckle. "So... You and I are spending the night crouched on my floor?"

You shrugged, playful. "Kind of your dream night, huh?"

He rolled his eyes, but his smile softened. "Not... too far off."

Damien handed you a pillow, which you placed under your elbows on the floor. His shoulder pressed lightly against yours as you both leaned into the doorway, his hand steadying you as you adjusted for a better view.

Courtney's knock broke the quiet, and Shayne scrambled up, fussing with his hair before heading to the door. You shared a smirk with Damien as the two of you huddled in his doorway, peeking through a small crack.

"Here we go," you whispered, already fighting back a laugh.

Shayne pulled open the door, giving Courtney a too-casual "Hey." She stepped inside, giving a friendly smile.

"Hey! Where is everyone?" she asked, looking around.

"They're, uh hanging out in their rooms... ," Shayne replied, shrugging. "So, it's just us tonight."

Damien leaned in close to whisper, "Oh, he's playing it cool."

You rolled your eyes, grinning. "If 'cool' means obvious."

They settled on the couch, a cautious gap between them as they started chatting about the most random topics—music, the weather, a funny story about Ian from last week. They were trying too hard, and it was obvious.

Damien nudged you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head toward Shayne and Courtney. "You see the popcorn bowl? Not a single move toward it. Classic sign of 'we're just friends.'"

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head. "They're keeping so much distance, it's painful. I mean, who sits that far apart on a couch?"

You exchanged a look, then turned back to the "show" on the couch, both leaning even closer to watch Shayne nervously fidget with his glass. When Courtney finally nudged him, he jumped like she'd shocked him.

"Oh, look," Damien murmured. "We've got an arm touch. Monumental progress."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Shayne looked like he was holding his breath, his eyes glued to his drink, while Courtney seemed perfectly at ease. "Poor guy's panicking," you whispered. "He is basically packing up and moving into the friendzone."

They kept talking, Shayne leaning back and stretching his arm along the back of the couch—near Courtney, but not quite touching her.

"Textbook," Damien said, barely able to contain his grin. "That's him definitely not putting his arm around her."

You leaned even closer to Damien, squeezing into the small doorway space, your shoulders brushing again. For a second, you thought you heard Shayne mention your names, but they quickly shifted the conversation.

"Do you think they're talking about us?" you whispered, pressing your ear closer.

Damien leaned down too, his cheek right next to yours. "Probably, I mean it's an interesting topic of conversation, right?"

"Of course," you snickered, watching as Shayne and Courtney's laughter softened, their voices dropping a little.

You both froze as the silence from the living room stretched out, watching as they glanced at each other, then away. You couldn't help but notice how the whole situation felt eerily familiar.

"They're really going for the 'friends who stare at each other occasionally' approach," Damien whispered.

"Totally normal, just two friends, hanging out. Just the two of them watching a bad romantic comedy on a friday evening, totally platonic" you replied, your words trailing off as you both focused on the scene in front of you.

In the quiet, you and Damien watched, barely breathing, heads close, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned in. You could feel his breath as he shifted a little to peek over your shoulder, but neither of you moved an inch away.

"Think they'll make a move?" he asked, his eyes drifting from the scene on the couch to linger on you instead

You shrugged lightly, rolling your eyes and missing his glance.  "Not likely. Those two are so obvious, it's painful. I mean, how can you be so clueless? How can she not see that he likes her?"

Damien swallowed, his eyes still fixed on you "Yeah... how can she not?"

He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before an idea seemed to spark in his eyes. "I should totally go out there and give Shayne a little push. He clearly needs it."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And how do you plan to do that?"

Damien straightened up, a playful glint in his eyes. "You'll see," he declared, his tone light but determined. "Wish me luck!"

You watched him leave, a grin creeping onto your face as you stayed back and observed from the doorway.

As you peeked in, you could hear Damien's voice, a hint of nervousness in his tone. "So, uh, you know, I once knew these people..." He paused, glancing between Shayne and Courtney like he was piecing it together as he went along. "They were great friends who spent so much time together, and then one day, they realized they had feelings for each other. It was kind of wild, right?" He shot a glance at you, clearly trying to gauge if this was working.

Courtney raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but Shayne seemed oblivious, focused on the movie. You held your breath, hoping it would spark something.

Damien continued, leaning forward slightly. "It's amazing how easy it can be to miss the signs. You could be hanging out, laughing, and then suddenly you realize—hey, maybe this could be something more." He glanced at you again, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. You gave him an encouraging nod from the doorway, urging him to keep going.

"Speaking of that," Damien pressed on, his voice steady but earnest, his eyes flickering between you and Courtney. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands fidgeting in front of him. "I'm in this situation.. right now. With someone I really like, but we're just friends." He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrayed his confidence. "I mean, I would hate to lose what we have. It means so much to me."

As he spoke, he crossed his arms tightly, a protective barrier around himself. "What if we tried to take it further and things didn't work out? I'd be terrified of messing everything up." He sighed deeply, uncrossing his arms and letting his hands fall to his sides, a gesture of surrender. "Sometimes it feels safer to just stay as friends, you know? I keep thinking about all the fun we have together, and I wouldn't want to ruin that by making things weird."

That caught Shayne's attention. "Dude, that's complicated," he said, finally pulling himself from the screen.

You bit your lip, wanting to jump in but deciding to let Damien lead for now.

"Exactly!" Damien replied, turning back to Courtney. "If you were in a similar situation, what would you do? I mean, how do you even tell someone that you want more? There's always that risk of it going south and losing the friendship. I don't know if I could handle that."

Courtney leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "Well, I'd probably want to make sure the feelings are mutual before making a move," she said thoughtfully. "But at the same time, if you really care about the friendship.. maybe it isn't worth it"

You felt a surge of anxiety as Damien's words seemed to sway Courtney, and it hit you that he might be convincing her to reconsider her feelings. 

Just then, you decided it was time to make your presence known. "Speaking of feelings, I'm feeling... up for snacks" you called out, stepping into the room.

You stepped into the room with a bright smile, blurting out, "You two make such a good team. It's great to see friends who get along so well. You should definitely hang out more, just the two of you."

With a playful urgency, you practically dragged Damien back toward the doorway, your heart racing as you tried to shift the energy in the room. "Come on, let's grab some snacks! We need to keep our energy up for the next round of movie watching!" You flashed a hopeful grin at Courtney, hoping to lighten the mood.

Damien looked at you, confusion and gratitude flashing in his eyes, as if he was thankful for your interruption. "Uh, yeah, snacks sound great," he said, following your lead with a slightly bewildered smile.

As you pulled him away towards his bedroom, you could hear courtney from the couch, "Are they drunk?"

Shayne nodded with a serious expression on his face, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes. Yes, they are," he replied, glancing back at you two with a smirk that hinted at his amusement.

You closed the door behind you, the soft click of the latch creating a small barrier from the outside world. Lowering your voice, urgency creeping in, you turned to Damien, your hands resting on your hips. "What were you thinking in there? You were about to talk Courtney out of making a move!"

Damien chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair again, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed through the strands. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, a sign of his lingering tension. "I didn't mean to, I just... I got caught up in it."

You smiled at him, your playful confidence returning. "Well, at least I totally saved it."

He looked back at you, a hint of mischief  in his eyes as he tilted his head. "Oh yeah? I beg to differ," he said, a teasing grin breaking through the remnants of his earlier unease.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with a smirk. "You know, you're as bad as Shayne when it comes to this stuff. Seriously, do you even know how to flirt?"

Damien's eyes widened in mock horror. "Absolutely not true! I can flirt!"

"Oh yeah?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Show me then. How would you seduce someone?"

He paused for a moment, his playful grin turning more confident as he stepped closer, invading your personal space just enough to make your heart race. The intensity in his gaze sent a jolt through you. You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, something you couldn't quite name.

"Alright, watch and learn," he said, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice. "You've got to make them feel special, you know?" He reached out, lightly brushing your arm with his fingers, letting his touch linger a moment longer than necessary. You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as a shiver ran down your spine.

"It's all about connection," he continued, his gaze locking onto yours. "Then you lean in and give them a compliment." He hesitated, and you could feel the tension. "Like, I don't know, you look really fucking great tonight."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, an unfamiliar flutter in your stomach. Had he really just said that? "Okay, not bad," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I mean, you don't have the ooze that I do but I guess that's a fine start" 

Just as you both laughed, your phone buzzed on the table, breaking the moment. You glanced at the screen, your heart sinking as you saw it was a text from your ex.

"Hey, we should probably meet up next week. I need to get my stuff back. Don't want to drag this out any longer. You know how it is."

You felt the weight of his words and the emotions they stirred inside you. Without thinking, you sank to the floor, your back resting against the door. The moment felt so fragile, and you hated the reminder of your past.

Damien followed you down, sitting beside you on the floor.

You grimaced, feeling a mix of annoyance and reluctance. "Ugh, look at this. He wants to meet up next week to exchange our things."

Damien furrowed his brow, his expression shifting to concern as he leaned closer to read the text. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his warmth grounding you amid the chaos. "What an idiot," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know you don't have to see him, right?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and hurt. "I'll be fine. I just wish he hadn't left me for somebody else. It just makes me feel like trash."

"Like I said... idiot," Damien replied, his voice firm, a hint of anger bubbling beneath the surface. His grip tightened slightly on your hand.

After a beat, you leaned your head on his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. You glanced around the room, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "So... you and I are spending the night crouched on your floor?"

He shrugged, a playful smile creeping onto his face as he looked down at you. "Kind of my dream night," he said, his voice softening, a hint of sincerity shining through.

[thelaurenshippen]

i genuinely cannot count on one hand the number of times i've listened to mark (episode 48)!! your writing. is absolute genius. i have never felt so much for any two characters in my life, and damien and mark are just written SOOO WELL OH MY GOSH LIKE RUN ME OVER WITH A CAR?? the "i'm trying to tell you that you hurt me" and the "But at a certain point you won’t be pissed anymore and then we can go back to where we were last summer. / Mark: We can what?" I WISH YOU HAD JUST PUNCHED ME INSTEAD BECAUSE WHAT IN THE WORLD MS SHIPPEN IM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND (also the voice acting is just incredible like paired with your writing it should be called the Shippen Effect because what in the WORLD) I have never ever been more relieved to have found any piece of media more in my entire life. just oh my gosh damien saying one manipulative thing after the other with no end but being able to completely understand where he's coming from??? i've rambled about his character to my friend so so often and just oh mark mark HOOLY MOLY every single character in tbs is so well-developed and just oh my gosh like I went through a similar experience to mark and finding tbs was WATER IN A DESERT I SWEAR OH MY GOSH just the . the part about humanizing manipulation and how manipulation makes you still empathize for them just EUEUUEUEGH I AM BITING A TABLE . you are. an incredible writer. like genuinely I look up to you so so much (you've been featured in my argumentative essays for my lang classes haha ACJHHBA) because you epitomize the beauty of putting your heart out and having it work through hard work and effort. your books are also at my school library which is CRAZY considering how tiny my school library is!! every single one of your works has so much heart and empathy and care in it, from the bright sessions to breaker whiskey to new year's day i've looked forward to and loved every single episode. thank you so much for what you do!! you as a person are also just so so admirable. you're incredibly humble while being INSANELY CRACKED AT WRITING ANALYZING ACTING ETC and are just?? so fun to listen to and have a very awesome voice??? I hope you're taking good care of yourself and looking out for your needs!! I appreciate you so so much and hope you have an awesome rest of your day :D <3

oh my god!?!?!? this is the NICEST thing in the world!?!?! thank you so much!?!?!?

but for REAL thank you. this genuinely means the whole goddamn world to me. I'm so glad you found my stories and that they were what you were looking for in one way or another and thank you so much for listening and for telling your friend about my characters!!! the "I need to talk to my friend about this character" is a feeling I personally know so well and one that I consider the highest compliment if I'm able to prompt it in someone else!

and ahhhhh I'm SO happy your school library has my books!!! that's always AWESOME to hear. I'm so grateful to your librarians (and all librarians)

I love the idea of the Shippen Effect being "voice actors take a script and spin it into gold" because that is one of my absolutely favorite things about working in audio. and I do like to think I have impeccable taste in actors :)

and the fact that you picked out one of my favorite episodes I've ever written is amazing. not only was writing it so fun, but a huge reason I wrote it is because Andrew and Charlie had such INCREDIBLE chemistry as Mark and Damien. like. off the CHARTS from moment one. which is so funny because they'd done scenes together in the acting class we were all in and had been, of course, amazing together, but there was something about them taking on those characters that just made a spark

I had never anticipated writing that episode when I started, but the performances that Andrew and Charlie gave were so inspiring that I just followed their lead with that relationship. and it was such an incredible blast. I miss them both - and especially them together - a ton.

also, omg being featured in essays is literally the greatest honor.

thank you SO much for your message, you have MADE my day!!!!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Hello!!

I really enjoy and look forward to your works!! I'm always excited when i get a notification of yours jaja.

My friend and I are planning on beginning a fanfiction of our own. I was wondering if you could give any tips on the writing process or maybe things you wish someone had told you when you had started.

I hope you're having a lovely day!!!!

Hello @frizzothehobbit thank you so, so much for the wonderful ask! I've been thinking about this, and I wanted to consider it properly before I answered, because there's so much to talk about regarding this subject. But I can't be thinking about this for all eternity, so here it is, my answer!

First off, I feel like a dinosaur because I started writing fanfiction more than 20 years ago... dear lord, I'm ancient! And if everything feels daunting when starting out, it's because it is! But it doesn't really have to be. Why, you ask? Because if you've decided to write fanfiction, there's already passion behind your intentions, and that is SO important! So, first off, and everybody's favourite:

WRITE WHAT YOU WANT!

Which is basically the same as saying: write for yourself. And as overused as this expression is, it's still true. Obviously we, authors, thrive on comments and feedback: it makes us grow! - And when I say this I'm not just talking about positive feedback, but constructive feedback! - But if you write what you want and love it, you're already halfway to writing a good story. Next:

INVEST SOME TIME IN YOUR STORY!

We, as authors, all wrote (and will write) drabbles at one time or another. Or mindless one-shots that we just needed to get out of our heads and onto the page. It's sooo valid. But my advice if you want to write a longer story: plan it! It helps avoid the 'oh-so-dreaded' plot holes (and this is actual advice I would have loved when I started... it would have saved me a lot of unfinished fics!) And of course, no two people plan the story the same way. I, for one, just think it through in my head (mostly in the shower, before falling asleep or doing mindless tasks such as cleaning), but I know other authors who plan every chapter and every step of the way so, here's another one:

FIND WHAT WORKS FOR YOU!

Be it in storytelling (first person, past tense, present tense, different POVs...), in planning (plan every single detail, just plan the direction of the story or don't plan at all...) or in deciding how much of a canon character are you willing to change. And this brings me to another point:

DON'T BE SCARED TO WRITE OUT OF CHARACTER!

Nobody is going to crucify you for that! It's fanfiction, people, it's not a history paper or a thesis. If you find yourself constantly thinking about this, you'll always doubt your work, so try to avoid dwelling on it, if possible.

CHECK FOR TYPOS

Mistakes are going to happen. You just can't avoid them. Unless you find yourself a Beta (and even then, it happens!). Typos, grammar and spelling mistakes fly by us authors when we're excited about our storytelling, so re-read what you wrote as many times as you want/need! I know I must have my fair share of mistakes (alas, I apologise for English not being my native language in every fiction I write), but I re-read my chapters a lot of times (I'm not even going to say how many - it's unhealthy!) and trust me, it shows if you don't give your story at least a good thorough read! Speaking of reading...

READ! READ! READ! READ A LOT!

Devour books, fanfiction, papers... whatever you can get your hands on. It's another cliché when it comes to writing tips, but it's overused for a reason. Reading a lot helps build a great vocabulary! And it helps you avoid annoying repetitions... Which brings me to another awesome tip:

USE A THESAURUS!

Suuuuuuuch a big help! Especialy when you're not a native speaker! Sometimes I find myself so stuck on a word that a thesaurus truly saves my life! Also:

DON'T BE AFRAID TO EDIT!

The scene isn't turning out the way you wanted it? CUT IT! It doesn't move the story forward? CUT IT! It doesn't fit the character? CUT IT! I've cut entire 1k+ scenes from some of my fanfictions because they made the story take a turn that I didn't like! Which brings me to another important tip:

LET THE CHARACTERS DO THEIR THING!

Sometimes your character just runs away from you and starts doing stupid shit. It's a known fact amongst all authors. Just let them be. Run with it. If the scene doesn't suit the story (say it with me...) CUT IT! But I've found so many times that the best plots in my stories come from characters who just decided they didn't give a flying f**k about me and went rogue! Last but not least (and because this is becoming a thesis in itself):

DON'T BE DISAPPOINTED!

Not all fics get comments. Not all fics get a lot of views. Not everyone who reads and likes, will comment. It's alright. We authors are used to it. And although it's a known fact that many authors have praise kinks (me included), and love to know people read and like their stories, don't expect too much and you won't be disappointed.

I really didn't want to end on that sad note, and maybe some people will disagree with me, but it's astounding how big the difference is between views and likes (or kudos on AO3) and comments. #CommentsMatter!

Also, and here's an extra:

DON'T COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS!

We all have favourite authors, and we all wish we could write like someone we idealize (Oh, Edgar Allan Poe, how I adore thee!), but it's not fair to compare yourself to another author. You're not more or less than another writer! YOU'RE YOU! And that's already awesome!

Oof... maybe I could have gone on longer than this... maybe I could've added more tips. But this is what I thought of, and I do hope you, and other people, find them somewhat helpful! Thank you again for the wonderful ask!

Love you! ❤️

PS: Engage with the community! Not only is it heartwarming, comforting, and rewarding, but as a commenter myself, I love having little debates with authors about why they wrote a scene in a specific way, or what they have in mind for what's coming next! Whatever it is, I guarantee you'll have a good time!