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yan-lorkai · 11 months ago

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*vibrating in excitement for platonic yanderes*

Ok, so I haven't watched black butler in years, imma re-watch it soon tho, so if none of this makes sense it's cause my memories shit and you can just ignore this lol

Anyway, here's my idea/request, Obv platonic yandere Ciel with a young reaper reader (14-16)? Like maybe they meet through Grell who mentors the lil reaper. Or maybe like a young ghost reader, he meets during an investigation or smth.

Your free to pick which one obv, anyway. I hope you are having a wonderful day luv, make sure to eat and stay hydrated!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Lemon, I made you wait a little but I finally finished this request hehe, despite having changed it a little and distorted some historical facts. Funfact: Ouija boards were created in 1891, but for the sake of this fic let's all ignore that Ciel was born in 1875; btw yesterday was his birthday. Congratulations Ciel <33. Also, many people have a hc that his real name has something to do with stars, hence the nickname present in the fic. Having said all that, I hope you enjoy Lemon, I loved writing this! Happy reading everyone!!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere content, spoiler about Ciel's brother in case nobody knows about it, ouija board and some typos probably!

Ciel likes to watch the sky. He likes to watch how the clouds race to overtake each other, he likes to watch the sun dancing alone in its place, twirling its colorful skirt of orange, yellow and pink during the hours that pass until finally the moon takes its place.

Quiet moments like this now, where he just sits in his armchair, his work all done and Sebastian far away, is when he can think about the things he's lost. But also the ones he won. If Sebastian had any knowledge about such thoughts, Ciel would certainly be subjected to his jokes and mockery.

The demon, while bound by the contract, could still make fun of his little master and he knew exactly how to embarrass the young lord. But Sebastian didn't need to know how the boy thinks about his twin brother, his parents, the employees and his childhood friend, Y/n; If they were alive now they would be maybe thirteen or fourteen, just like him and his brother. It was a fateful day, indeed.

The murder, the cult, Ciel hates remembering it, but he doesn't know how to let it all go. He's a child and there's no one he can ask for help - even if there was, perhaps his pride wouldn't allow it. He didn't ask for help when he was kidnapped, he didn't ask for help when he went through countless assassination attempts, nor did he ask for help with difficult tasks that the queen assigned him. He was the Phantomhive heir, the family's leader, he couldn't just simply ask for help.

The count narrows his blue eyes at the brooding darkness that has settled in his office, counting how many grains of sand fall into the hourglass and how long he has left in peace before Sebastian shows up to annoy him.

Maybe fifteen minutes.

With enough time for the boy to put his small plan into action, he pulled a wooden board from one of the drawers and placed it on the table. Ciel, by and large, was not superstitious, but recent events had left him puzzled. Moreover, he had a demon as his butler, a boy with super strength as his gardener, a sniper as his maid, and a soldier as his cook. In any case, he had even encountered death gods.

Therefore, if he suspected that the presence lingering over his shoulders while he worked or the entity hiding his items and making them appear in different places was something to be investigated, then he would investigate until his doubts were cleared. The giggles and whispers were becoming unsettling. Of course, he heard voices, but they were the voices of occultists, screams and cries from when they died at the hands of Sebastian.

But this particular voice was incredibly irritating and almost familiar.

Ciel scanned the wooden surface, wondering if he was a fool for buying it. The boy was almost certain that Sebastian knew about the board, but he decided not to comment; the butler had been rather distant since they returned from London that morning. Ciel didn't mind, quickly reading the rules and holding the pointer in his hands, trying to see something through it.

There was nothing… yet.

Ciel laid the pointer on the board and sighed, placing his fingers on it, ready to start. He hadn't said anything yet, but an aura already seemed to completely envelop his office. Or maybe he was anxious; he couldn't tell.

"Is there anyone there?" Ciel murmured, his firm voice echoing in the silent room.

For several moments, nothing happened. He really didn't expect anything to happen, judging this whole thing as something foolish that only became popular because of the horror stories that circulated in cities. He stared at the board intently, each letter in cursive, every mystical symbol adorning it, waiting for a response that would satisfy him. Impatiently, he repeated the question once more.

"Is there anyone there?" He looked at the pointer and then around. "If there is, give me a sign."

This time, the pointer began to move slowly across the board as if the entity on the other side was drowsy, gliding from one letter to another with a calmness that Ciel himself didn't possess. Ciel watched with intensity, his expression impassive. But inside, a strange feeling took hold of him.

It was real, after all. As real as shinigamis or Sebastian. He stifled another sigh in his throat.

"Who is there?" He asked, the words leaving his lips with determination.

Who behind the veil was tormenting him, holding on to him tightly so as not to be pulled into the forgetfulness of eternal sleep. He put more force on the pointer as if everything depended on the answer he would receive.

The letters came together to form words, and Ciel remained focused, but a hint of skepticism was present in his gaze when the words spelled out a name. Your first and last name.

"Y/N?" He wondered aloud.

Ciel may have lost a lot, but he also gained a lot. He gained another family, gained new friends allies, gained a new chance.

And yet… He hadn't gained you back. Or had he?

For a second, he let the pointer rest on the board, feeling a heavy sensation settle in his chest as he thought about the days when you used to stay by his side when he was bedridden with asthma, telling him your silly stories and jokes, all while holding his hand and looking tenderly at him. You were his best friend. And he missed you a lot.

And now you were here. You were here.

He placed his finger on the pointer again, still feeling doubtful if it was really you or some other spirit. Confidently, he asked something that only you knew. "What was the nickname that only you called me, and why?"

The nickname you used for him when it was just the two of you. Not for his brother, not for Ciel. If it was really you there, you would notice the small differences, as you did when you were alive.

The pointer moved, taking with each movement a beat of the young earl's heart. One by one, the letters formed a nickname forgotten by time and bitter memories of the only Phantomhive still wandering through this tedious world.

"Pleiades, that's what I used to call you." There was a pause, and Ciel felt his entire body trembling with the confirmation that yes, it was you on the other side. He straightened up in his chair, trying to show that he was calm — little did he know that you could perceive how surprised he was.

And you would tease him about it later.

"Just like your hair, they are blue, an optical phenomenon caused by the dispersion of light in the Earth's atmosphere." You explained, nodding as if he could see you. Ciel rolled his eyes but almost unconsciously smiled.

"I see you remain a know-it-all." He teased.

And you stuck your tongue out at him, moving your arms to make the chair he was sitting in slide backward. Ciel's cheeks immediately turned pink as a little yelp escaped his lips. He hadn't expected you to have more tricks up your sleeve, but soon he regained his composure and cleared his throat, watching you move the pointer.

"One of us has to be clever," You chuckled. "Obviously, I'm the smart friend."

Ciel let out a long sigh. "Your knowledge is all random, though."

You shrugged. What importance did any kind of knowledge have now that you were dead? You said nothing for a few minutes, running your fingers over the wood of the board and the supposedly mystical symbols. Being dead was boring, different for everyone, and you weren't even sure how your soul managed to escape the shinigamis for so long.

But you had one certainty; you were stuck in this world for some reason still. In many stories, there would be an unfulfilled desire or a want, and you had several, but you had made peace with the fact that you could no longer fulfill them. So what was still keeping you there?

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Ciel nodded, gesturing with his hand for you to continue.

"Can you free me? Can you invite me out?"

Ciel had already broken some rules, especially the one that said he couldn't play alone and that the player should have a form of spiritual protection, whatever they had faith in — a crucifix, a talisman, anything. Ciel, however, had a mark on his eye, so you assumed that nullified this rule. Did that thing serve as a protective mark, though?

The boy remained silent for some time, seemingly weighing the pros and cons of taking such action. To bind a spirit to himself, to the world of the living, when he knew he should let you rest in peace, when he knew such agreements were dangerous.

But he was still the selfish earl who liked to monopolize your time; he was still that same sickly boy who needed a friend. And no one else could be his friend but you. Only you understood him, after all.

He nodded.

It was foolishness, but not even Sebastian could have stopped him. He pressed the pointer harder, desperate for it to work, but of course, it would work if you were already in front of him, the dead proof that there could be life in death.

"I invite you, Y/n, to leave this board."

A warm feeling flooded your chest, as if your skin were kissed by the sun again after so long. You savored it for a moment, smiling, feeling strangely more alive than before, and withdrew your hand from the pointer.

"Can you see me?" You asked, your voice hoarse from not speaking for months.

But Ciel didn't seem to understand, not yet at least. So you touched his cheek as you did when congratulating him on a chess victory, and he felt it, his eyes widening as he assimilated the situation. You figured that now that you touched him, he could hear you, so you asked the question again.

And slowly, he nodded. You could only imagine what he thought of your bloodstained shirt and disheveled appearance, so different from the one you once proudly preserved. Times change, and so do you, and you were like this now, a lost ghost that not even death seemed to want.

You smiled, squeezing both of his cheeks and watching him shudder. It was good to see him, good to be back, even if nothing would be the same. Nothing could ever be the same again, but being able to touch him again after so long, you didn't hesitate to hug him.

You were together again.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #platonic yandere #mutuals requests

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binniebakery · 8 months ago

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🇼🇦🇸🇹🇪 🇴🇫 🇦 🇸🇺🇳🇸🇪🇹🎧🎐

Non Idol AU Academic Rival!Beomgyu x Gn!Reader Enemies to lovers(?) fluff

Summary♡: Your number one enemy, Choi Beomgyu, always managed to ruin everything for you. So of course the one time you decide to let yourself relax on the school rooftop– you��re stuck with him– just like you’ve always been since you both met.

Warnings♡: mentions of jumping off a roof as a joke, banter, slight cursing, little bit of angst sprinkled in but it gets resolved lol A/N♡: just in time for beomgyu's birthday... this was inspired by the song 'a lovely night' from lala land! to all my bamtoris: enjoy!

The sky began to be decorated with hues of gold and pink, not even the perfect strokes of an artist’s brush could replicate the way the sun’s rays peaked over the multitude of buildings and clouds.

You inhaled as the cool breeze washed over you, the temperature for the day slowly dwindling as the sun lay to rest, the moon soon to take over.

The Mathletes club had just finished its meeting and you were relieved of your duties for the day as president. Student organizations were allowed to stay after school hours, as long as they responsibly cleaned after their club activities. They were free to go home as teachers stuck around to grade papers and janitors monitored the buildings to ensure things were in order.

You leaned against the metal rails of the rooftop with closed eyes. This was the most peaceful you had felt since the school year had started. Finals were over and you could finally take a breath of fresh air– literally. You had been locked up in your room studying for weeks, in hopes of achieving that perfect grade.

You never gave yourself time to go out and have fun anyway. As vice president of the student council, you had a job to do: paperwork, maintaining the council image by appearing at all school events, helping solve issues of your fellow students— etcetera, etcetera. So finals were no exception to your busy schedule.

Friends were rare to come by. You had been deemed “nice, but secluded” by your classmates so hardly anyone had the confidence to approach you.

If only people got to know you better, sure they knew you were nice but if only they knew you loved karaoke, you watched a ton of anime, you loved music– just like them. There was so much more to you than studies but no one seemed to look past that stern persona you portrayed.

You sighed thinking about the loneliness you felt. It’s always been this way, but at least right now you had peace. It’s just you and the cicadas that began to hum and buzz as the sun went down.

At least it was peaceful.

The door behind you swings open and loud footsteps interrupt your moment of tranquility. You hear the soft sound of music carrying through the wind and you turn to spot class president Choi Beomgyu.

Of course. You just couldn’t have one thing.

Beomgyu’s dark hair swishes side to side as he bobs his head to the tunes playing from his headphones, eyes closed and mouth shaped into an ‘o’ as he sways further outside, oblivious to your presence.

You cross your arms and stare as he continues his little performance, whistling to the sound of the notes playing from his headset. How could he even stand playing music so loudly? ‘He’s gonna lose his hearing by the time we graduate if he doesn’t fix that habit’ you think with a scowl.

“Ahem. Excuse me, earth to Choi.”

Beomgyu opens his eyes and looks at you with a face that resembles a cute puppy.

“Oh! Hey y/n. Whatcha doin’ here hanging at my spot?” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow at his question. His spot?

“I didn’t know you hung around here.”

“Yeah, every day after school. I come here to unwind from my presidential activities.” His tone changes into a silly accent at the end of his sentence and it almost feels to you that he was emphasizing how much he didn’t take his job seriously.

You still couldn’t believe this fool got chosen as student council president over you.

“Well, I’m also here to relax if you don’t mind.” You reply, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I mean I can leave if you want. I don’t wanna interrupt your sulking– or whatever you do for fun.” Beomgyu places a hand on his hip as if mocking you, and you scoff.

“I’m not that miserable, Choi.”

“Uhuh.. and can you please call me Beomgyu for once? Come on we’re classmates, not working at an office.”

“Alright fine! Beomgyu, jeez.”

“Nice job, you finally do something right!” His tone is so fake the words practically fall from the air from how much plastic they were made of.

“Can I say something? I’d honestly rather die than be stuck up here with you,” you mumble as you rest your head on the railing.

“You should just jump then,” he chuckles.

Your eyes couldn’t have rolled any farther to the back of your head. God he was so fucking stupid.

“You first Choi, be my guest!” You snap back, nothing pissed you off more than Beomgyu’s cocky tone.

“Call me Choi one more time and I’m gonna start calling you noona from how old you sound.”

“Well, I’m sorry I try to remain professional unlike you! Ugh, I’m fucking leaving!” You begin to walk back to the doors of the building until Beomgyu decides he wants to have the last laugh.

“Alright well, at least I can still have fun and be president! I have fucking friends– unlike you.”

Ouch. Beomgyu: 1 You: 0

You’re not sure if you’re more angry or hurt but regardless tears threaten to form as you bite your lip unable to respond. Because he’s right.

You really don’t have any friends.

Beomgyu is popular, he makes everyone laugh, he's easygoing, he’s kind when he wants to be, and most of all he’s handsome.

You internally kick yourself for thinking of that last part. Though as much as you hated to admit it, you did find him very attractive just like the rest of your school did.

Both of you were incredibly smart and since the day he transferred to your school, you were no longer alone at the top of your class.

You constantly tied with Beomgyu when it came to grades, and when you couldn’t it was always back and forth over who had the better score. You two were just too evenly matched.

You both always bickered about it. Finding yourself despising that Beomgyu was a person you weren’t. In a way, it felt like he was better. You wanted to be someone like him. Though you’d never tell him that.

And thus you hated him for it.

You inhale sharply and raise your sleeve to wipe your eyes. Beomgyu’s eyes widen as he watches you attempt to go back inside.

You pull.

You pull again.

It’s locked.

“Are you kidding me..” you mumble. This was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life. Your rival makes you cry and now he’s forced to watch you suffer as you’re locked up on the roof with him. “Y/n.. I- um.”

“Save it Beomgyu. Please just leave me alone” You whisper, eyes closed shut as your last attempt to stop your tears from falling. You plop yourself down at the railing that overlooks the streets and buildings of your small city.

Beomgyu knew he fucked up, he was used to teasing you but he realized he took it way too far this time. His eyes stay soft as he watches you curl up onto the ground, head leaning against the rails.

He walks over to you and sits next to you, unsure of how to respond to your weak sniffles. He had never seen you this vulnerable before. He never knew you were this vulnerable.

So he does the one thing he knows, he pulls an earbud out and places it into your ear.

You look over to him with wet eyes, and he lets out a weak smile.

“Such a shame, the sunset’s really pretty right now. Someone else would have probably enjoyed this view instead of us huh?”

Beomgyu interrupts the silence with a sigh. It was like he was attempting to lighten the mood after what he said. This was the first time he had actually shown that he (somewhat?) cared about you

“Hey. I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry y/n…” he begins as he scratches his neck, averting your gaze.

“If anything I’m kind of jealous. I don’t really know what to do with the fact that you’re so much more organized and better at things than me that I just let out my inner frustrations onto you. You don’t.. you don’t really deserve that though.”

His voice was calm and warm, and so quiet as if there was someone around that could hear his confession. The cicadas grew louder and the music playing in your ear felt like it was engraving itself into your brain, as if it was attempting to connect Beomgyu's mind to yours.

You look over at him and see that his face holds a tender gaze. Nothing like the loud and obnoxious class president you were used to.

“I can be serious too you know? Everyone seems to go to you for their problems because they see you as more responsible, but trust me when I say I’m just as sincere.” He begins to fidget with the wires of his earbuds.

“I study a lot, I never have time to go out to the arcade with my friends. All because I want to be just like you. So at school, I let myself loose and act carefree.”

You stare at him bewildered.

Had he really felt like this all along?

Beomgyu sends a text to one of your teachers and mumbles ‘they should be here soon’ as he lightly traces small circles on your arm.

You’re too shocked to speak, too attached to the warmth of his fingers tracing your skin.

So you two sit there just like that, allowing the playlist of songs to speak for yourselves. You and Beomgyu were never that close but in that moment, for the first time, it felt like you two had connected.

Beomgyu can’t help but stare at the way you close your eyes, silently mouthing the words to the lyrics of his favorite songs. The way the sunset’s hues outline your hair flowing in the wind, the way your nose and eyes have a soft reddish blush to them from crying. You looked so breathtaking in that moment.

As you finally regain your bearings, you look up to Beomgyu and he immediately curses at himself for letting you catch him staring.

“You know.. I always felt the same towards you. I wanted to be like you as well. I guess..” you bite your lip as you contemplate what to say next.

“I guess we’re more alike than we thought. Maybe we should’ve just made the effort to actually get to know each other, but instead we ended up here.” You softly chuckle and Beomgyu makes a mental note that he wants to hear you laugh more.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re right.” He replies and you burst into laughter.

“Beomgyu you’re actually funnier than I’d like to admit,” you smile and lightly smack his shoulder.

“There you go, like hearing my name coming from you.”

Your face flushes with a rosy hue and you see Beomgyu’s ears are turning the same color as he plays with his shoelaces.

You’d never seen him this soft. Usually, he was sure of himself and confident.

Was he flirting with you?

Moments of silence pass by at Beomgyu clears his throat.

“Crazy how this view.. Is so pretty..”

“Huh?” You tilt your head.

What was this sudden change of conversation topic?

“I mean, it’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?.. A shame that you uh- have feelings for me and I clearly don’t feel the same way towards you.”

Your jaw practically drops at his words. Beomgyu’s tone is playful but the way he hides into his hoodie, ears turning redder than before shows that he’s trying to indicate something else.

You smile and decide to play along.

“You know what. I’m frankly feeling nothing.”

“Is that so?"

“As a matter of fact Beomgyu, less than that.”

“Good to know we finally agree on something.”

“Yeah.” You both look over at each other.

And of course, neither of you could help but burst into a fit of giggles.

The crisp air entices you to scoot closer to him. Only because you were cold and not because you just needed to feel his body next to yours.

Totally not the latter.

The distant skyline is painted in shades of amber and rose, silhouetted against the fading light. You feel yourself relax again, and Beomgyu gently places your head on his shoulder. If you were any more receptive you could feel the way his heart beat louder than the bass of the music blasting through his headset.

Maybe this wasn’t such a total waste of a beautiful sunset.

#BakeryTreat♡#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 29 days ago

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hii!! i have a fanfic req for uuu

reader is a bandito who is not very fond of Clancy; she always points out the holes in his plans purely out of spite. The two of them bicker a lot; she hates when he comes around and tends to mock him; he does the same back. One day in particular, however, the reader goes too far in their argument, and Clancy tells her to meet in his tent and that they’ll sort it out later. When the reader goes to meet him later that night, they argue back and forth for a bit…you’ll never guess how they sort things out. (smut!!!)

i hope you like it!! feel free to change things up if you’d like to 🫶

—🐇

Button Pushing - Clancy x Reader - Smut

Warnings: kind of softer less graphic smut bc i just wrote something crazy lol

Word Count: 3938

A/N: 😏

The campfire crackled and popped, its warmth a small comfort against the chill of the night air. Shadows danced across the rugged landscape of Trench, the flickering light casting eerie shapes on the tents and barrels scattered around the clearing. The aroma of smoke mixed with the scent of leather and gunpowder, filling my lungs with a familiar sense of danger and excitement. My fellow outlaws lounged around the fire, trading stories and laughter, but I remained on the outskirts, nursing a bottle of whiskey and brooding.

And there was Clancy, strutting around like he owned the place, all swagger and charm. I could barely stand to watch him. He was the so-called mastermind of our little bandit crew, and it irked me to no end. I hated how he thought he was so clever, always playing the part of the fearless leader, with his dark hair falling into his eyes and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. But what I hated most was how he seemed to thrive on my criticisms.

“Seriously, Clancy?” I called out, forcing my voice over the crackling flames. I leaned against a weathered barrel, arms crossed defiantly over my chest. “That’s the best you could come up with? You’re asking us to charge into a well-armed city with nothing but your brilliant ideas?”

He turned to me, that smug grin spreading wider. “Oh, come on! Don’t be such a buzzkill. My plan is flawless—if you’d just stop nitpicking every single detail, maybe we could actually get something done.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a snicker. “Flawless? You mean like the time you thought it’d be smart to leave camp for a night and we nearly got caught by vultures?”

“That was a minor setback!” he shot back, his voice rising slightly as the tension between us escalated. “You act like I’m the only one who ever makes mistakes!”

“Your mistakes get people killed!” I spat, feeling my anger flare. “You think you’re some kind of genius, but all you are is a lucky fool.”

A hush fell over the group, and I could feel the eyes of the others on us, waiting for Clancy’s response. I could see the frustration boiling beneath his calm facade, and it almost made me feel a twinge of guilt. Almost.

“Fine,” he said, his tone suddenly icy. “Why don’t we settle this later? Meet me in my tent when the moon is high. We’ll sort it out then.”

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms tighter. “What makes you think I’d want to have a conversation with you?”

“Because you’re the one who’s too stubborn to back down.” His smirk returned, a glimmer of challenge in his eyes. “Unless you’re scared?”

I scoffed, flipping my hair back defiantly. “Scared? Please. I’ll be there.”

As the night wore on, the embers of the fire faded into darkness, and I felt a flutter of anticipation mixed with irritation in my stomach. What was the point of meeting him? This was just another chance to bicker, to prove my superiority in the face of his foolishness. And yet, part of me couldn’t shake the thrill of confrontation.

When the moon finally hung high in the sky, casting its silvery light across the camp, I made my way to Clancy’s tent. The fabric fluttered softly in the evening breeze, and I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing. I took a deep breath and pushed through the flap, stepping into the dimly lit space.

Clancy stood with his back to me, his silhouette outlined by the lantern light. For a brief moment, I was struck by the way the shadows danced across his broad shoulders. “You came,” he said, turning to face me, his voice low and steady.

“Of course I did. I’m not the one who needs to explain himself,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sudden tension in the air.

“Then let’s talk.” He stepped closer, his expression serious, but I could still see the mischief lurking in his eyes. “You think you’re so clever, pointing out my flaws, but maybe you’re just avoiding your own.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat as he closed the distance between us, invading my personal space. The heat radiating from him was palpable, and for a moment, the bickering seemed to fade into the background.

“Admit it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You enjoy this. You enjoy pushing my buttons.”

“Maybe I do,” I shot back defiantly, even as my heart raced. “But it’s not my fault you make it so easy.”

His lips curled into a wicked grin. “Is that so? Then why don’t we push each other’s buttons a little harder?”

Before I could respond, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer, and my breath hitched. There was a sudden spark of electricity between us, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface of our constant bickering.

“Clancy, wait—” I began, but the words were lost as he crashed his lips against mine, his kiss fierce and demanding. My mind went blank, and I melted against him, the fight slipping away as desire took over.

He pulled back slightly, his breath warm against my cheek. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

I laughed breathlessly, both annoyed and exhilarated. “This isn’t fair! You can’t just kiss me to win an argument!”

“Maybe not, but I think it’s working,” he said, smirking again, that infuriatingly charming smile playing on his lips. “Let’s sort out the rest of this tension, shall we?”

My heart raced as I leaned back into him, the previous anger replaced by something much more intense. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, ready to explore this new dynamic between us.

“Fine,” I murmured against his lips, my breath hitching again as his hands roamed my waist. “But don’t think this means I’m going to stop calling you out on your stupid plans.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, crashing his lips against mine again, deeper this time. The kiss ignited a fire within me, and I pressed my body against his, feeling the hard planes of his chest and the warmth radiating off him.

The tent felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken words and heated glances. I fisted my hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, our mouths moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. Every argument we had ever shared faded into the background, replaced by the intense heat of the moment.

“God, you drive me crazy,” I gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, my cheeks flushed. “Why do you have to be so infuriating?”

“Maybe I like it,” he said, his voice low and teasing, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “Maybe I like pushing your buttons just as much as you enjoy pushing mine.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face. “You’re impossible!”

“Impossible to resist, maybe.” His eyes darkened with mischief, and I could feel my pulse quickening as he stepped closer, our bodies barely an inch apart.

He leaned in again, kissing me deeply, and my heart raced as I melted into him. I forgot about our arguments, our differences, and the constant push and pull of our rivalry. All that mattered was the way his hands gripped my waist, the way his mouth moved against mine, igniting a hunger I hadn’t known I possessed.

“Clancy,” I murmured against his lips, breathless. “What are we doing?”

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago,” he replied, his voice thick with desire. He leaned in closer, capturing my lips again, and I surrendered to the heat, my body pressing against his as the world outside the tent faded away.

He lifted me effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the solid strength of him beneath me. I could barely catch my breath as he backed me against the tent wall, his hands exploring the curve of my back, igniting every nerve in my body.

I gasped as he trailed kisses down my neck, each brush of his lips sending shivers through me. “You’re always so tense,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “Let me help you relax.”

“Relaxing isn’t exactly my strong suit,” I replied breathlessly, even as I leaned into him, wanting more of his touch.

“Maybe I can change that,” he said, his hands sliding down to the hem of my shirt, tugging it up. I hesitated, my heart racing with anticipation and uncertainty.

“Clancy, are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if it changes everything?”

“It won’t,” he promised, his eyes locking onto mine, sincere and intense. “It’ll just make things more... interesting.”

With that, he lifted my shirt over my head, his fingers dancing along my skin, igniting fire in every place he touched. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation, losing myself in the moment. I could feel the tension between us shifting, morphing into something raw and passionate, and I wanted nothing more than to explore this new territory.

“God, you feel incredible,” he murmured, his hands skimming over the bare skin of my waist, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes dark with desire as they roamed over me.

“Clancy,” I breathed, my voice catching in my throat as I lost myself in the way he touched me. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

His response was to capture my mouth with his again, plunging us deeper into the moment. It was intoxicating. The way his lips moved against mine, the way his hands explored every inch of my body, set me ablaze. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as I pressed my body against his, feeling the hard lines of his muscles against me.

“Damn, you’re driving me wild,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips as he pressed me harder against the wall of the tent. I could feel his heart racing, matching my own frantic pulse.

The thrill of it all was electric. We had spent so much time arguing and butting heads, but now, there was no room for anything but this undeniable chemistry. Each kiss felt like a challenge, a claim, a promise of what was to come. I wanted to push him, to test this new dynamic, but as his lips found my neck again, trailing kisses down to my collarbone, I lost the ability to think straight.

“Clancy,” I gasped, my fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. “What if we get caught?”

“Let them watch,” he muttered, a playful glint in his eye. “We’re banditos. We take what we want, and right now, I want you.” His words sent a wave of desire coursing through me, and I surrendered to the heat of the moment.

With a swift movement, Clancy turned, lifting me effortlessly as he carried me to his makeshift bed at the back of the tent. I couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “You’re stronger than you look,” I teased, my heart racing as he laid me down gently.

“Don’t underestimate me,” he shot back, leaning over me with that wicked grin. The playful banter between us felt refreshing in this new light. I could see the hunger in his eyes, and it mirrored the desire building inside me.

His hands explored my body, tracing every curve, every line. He took his time, savoring the moment, kissing me deeply as if he wanted to memorize the feel of my lips against his. My skin tingled with every touch, every brush of his fingers, igniting fires within me that I hadn’t known existed.

“Clancy, please,” I breathed, needing him closer, craving more than just his kisses. I tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against mine. He complied, lifting it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and the way his muscles flexed under the lantern light.

“Damn,” I murmured, unable to hide my appreciation. “You really are a sight to behold.”

“Only for you,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “And now, I think it’s time I really show you how much I want you.”

With that, he kissed his way down my body, his lips trailing fiery kisses along my collarbone, down to the soft swell of my breasts, causing me to gasp at the sensation. Every kiss felt like a promise, a spark igniting a fire deep within me.

“Clancy,” I moaned, arching my back, urging him to continue. I could feel the tension building, the need becoming more intense, and I was more than ready to surrender to it.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark and filled with a desire that made my heart race. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and those words made my insides flutter. It was rare for him to drop the bravado, but in that moment, I could see the genuine admiration in his eyes, and it made everything feel even more intense.

As he continued his descent, trailing kisses lower, I felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement. This was a side of Clancy I had never seen, and it drew me in even more. The playful banter, the arguments—all of it had led to this moment, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Clancy, please,” I urged, my voice thick with longing. I needed him to know how much I wanted him.

He met my gaze, the heat between us palpable as he hovered just above me. “You sure you want this? I don’t want to rush you.”

I nodded, my breath shaky with desire. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, he captured my lips again, the kiss hungry and demanding, as if he was trying to pour all his feelings into me. I could feel the heat radiating between us, building like a wildfire. The world outside the tent faded away, leaving only the two of us in this intimate bubble, bound together by shared desire and unspoken words.

He positioned himself between my legs, his hands gripping my hips as he pressed himself against me. The friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, and I could hardly contain the sounds escaping my lips.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and heavy. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He leaned in closer, capturing my mouth with his again, as if sealing our unspoken promises with every kiss.

Time seemed to stretch as we lost ourselves in each other. The tent felt like our own little universe, a sanctuary where we could finally explore the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. I didn’t care about the outside world or what would happen when we returned to reality; all that mattered was the way he made me feel, the way he touched me, the way we were finally letting go of the roles we had played for so long.

His hands roamed my body, igniting every nerve ending, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, building with every kiss, every touch. I pulled him closer, urging him on, wanting to feel more of him, to lose myself completely in this moment.

“Clancy,” I gasped, my heart racing. “I need you. Now.”

His eyes darkened, filled with a mix of mischief and hunger. “You got it, sweetheart,” he replied, and with that, he positioned himself above me, his body pressing into mine.

I felt a rush of anticipation mixed with uncertainty. This was uncharted territory for us both, but the way he looked at me—intense and raw—made my heart race with excitement. I surrendered to the moment, my body responding to his every move.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he filled the space between us, and I gasped as he entered me, my body arching beneath his. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that made me forget everything else.

“Damn, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he thrust deeper, causing ripples of pleasure to wash over me. The way he moved, the way he filled me, was everything I had ever wanted and more.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as I met his thrusts with my own, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt both primal and electric. The world outside the tent faded away, and all that mattered was the connection between us—the heat, the passion, the way we were finally letting go of all the arguments and bickering that had kept us at odds for so long.

“Clancy,” I gasped, feeling the pressure building deep within me, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” he replied, his breath hot against my ear, his voice low and filled with longing. “Just let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

With those words, I felt the final thread of tension snap, and pleasure surged through me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my body arching as I fell over the edge, the world spinning away as waves of ecstasy washed over me.

“God, you’re perfect,” Clancy groaned, his body tensing as he followed me into bliss, the intensity of our connection leaving us both breathless.

As we lay there, intertwined beneath the dim light of the lantern, the reality of what had just happened began to settle in. The playful banter, the arguments—it had all led to this moment, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Guess we really sorted things out, huh?” I teased, looking up at him, my heart still racing.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I suppose we did. But you know this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to come up with the best plans

possible, right?”

I rolled my eyes playfully, still feeling the warmth of his body against mine. “You’re insufferable. I’ll always call you out on your ridiculous ideas, you know that.”

Clancy grinned, that cocky glint back in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. It keeps things interesting.”

As I lay there, basking in the afterglow of our encounter, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The bickering, the insults, the constant push and pull—suddenly, it all felt different. It was as if the fire of our arguments had morphed into something more profound, something that would deepen our bond in ways I had never imagined.

“I can’t believe we actually did that,” I said, half-laughing, half-incredulous. “You, of all people.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “What? You think I’m all talk? I can be quite persuasive, you know.”

I smirked, leaning up on one elbow to look at him. “Persuasive? More like relentless. You just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Relentless is my middle name.” He winked, stretching his arms above his head, showcasing his toned physique. “But don’t think I’ll let you off easy just because we had a little fun. I expect you to keep pushing back. It’s what makes you… you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. There was a strange comfort in the chaos of our dynamic. Clancy’s words rang true; I had always relished the challenge of our banter. “Guess I can’t change who I am, can I?”

“Not a chance,” he said, leaning in to steal another kiss. This one was softer, more intimate, and it sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I could feel a new layer of connection forming between us, a bond that transcended our playful rivalry.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the tent, pulling me from the moment. My heart raced as I glanced toward the entrance, a sudden wave of panic flooding through me. “What if someone hears us?”

“Relax,” Clancy whispered, his finger lightly brushing my lips. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, and besides, the others are too busy with their own business to care about what’s happening in here.”

“Still,” I murmured, biting my lip as I tried to ignore the worry gnawing at me. “What if they come in?”

“Let them,” he said, an amused smirk on his face. “If they do, we’ll just tell them we were sorting out some… differences.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking my head in disbelief. “You really are something, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he shot back playfully. “Now, let’s just enjoy the peace while we can.”

I settled back against him, my head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I felt safe and cherished, and it was a feeling I hadn’t expected to find in this chaotic life. For once, there were no plans to critique, no strategies to argue over—just us, wrapped up in this blissful moment.

But of course, the calm didn’t last long. Just as I began to relax, the flap of the tent suddenly burst open, and in walked Josh, a smirk plastered across his face.

“Uh-oh, what do we have here?” he teased, taking in the sight of us tangled together. “Looks like Clancy finally found a way to shut you up, huh?”

I shot up, my face burning with embarrassment, while Clancy simply laughed, unfazed. “Josh! What are you doing barging in here like that?”

“I came to see if you’d finally come up with a decent plan for tomorrow’s raid, but I can see you’re a little too… preoccupied.” He leaned against the tent pole, crossing his arms, clearly enjoying the scene.

“Very funny,” I muttered, trying to pull the blanket up over myself, feeling exposed. “You could’ve knocked, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Josh said, his grin widening. “Besides, it’s nice to see you two getting along for once. Maybe you’ll finally stop bickering like a couple of children.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Clancy replied, his tone casual. “But don’t hold your breath. We still have our differences to sort out.” He shot me a wink, and I felt my cheeks heat up again.

“Good luck with that,” Josh said, chuckling as he backed out of the tent. “But seriously, if you two are going to keep this up, try to keep it down. We don’t need the whole camp knowing what’s happening in here.”

As the flap fell shut behind him, I turned to Clancy, my heart racing with embarrassment. “I can’t believe he just walked in on us like that!”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Welcome to camp. It’s not exactly known for its privacy.”

“Clearly.” I sighed, shaking my head, but the tension had already dissipated. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides,” he said, leaning in closer, “we’re not done yet.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto my lips. “You think we can just pick up where we left off?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice dropping to that sultry tone that sent shivers down my spine. “But this time, let’s make sure we keep it quieter.”

“Deal,” I said, feeling a thrill of excitement course through me. I was ready to embrace this new side of our relationship, ready to see where it would lead us.

REQUESTS OPEN

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qhoaaaa · 7 months ago

Text

Yippee surprise fic of (my rendition of) Fool!Milo x Sweetheart!

I'd like to imagine this Milo is still a little flirty but also hardened/wary around others by a particular event that is mentioned in the fic 👍🏽

This was meant to be a ramble on how we could get a chase with Fool!Milo but then i was like fuck it let me make a fic instead (and add drama lol)

"Don't need to hear your heartbeat thuddin' from anyone else but me..."

Fool!Milo/Sweetheart - 18+ - MDNI

CW: Fighting, Aggression, mentions of a death

Sweetheart, at the dead of night, running over a plain hill. The moon towering over them in a cloudless night, a hiss heard that echoes in their mind. A blur too fast for them to catch, its not of a Stealth. The wind picks up, and they fall to the ground. They summon any kind of defensive magic they can, hoping a surge of electro magic would stop it. They raise a hand in front of them, closing their eyes, the rush of magic collected at their palm. They're about to release it when they feel a hand wrap around their wrist.

That familiar core signature, husky and near animalistic, they know him. They dissipate the magic, feeling it fade into their body. Their eyes open, seeing his blood-red eyes glow around his pupils, grey surrounding the iris. The red is bright against the grey-blue night, almost comforting and warm. They've spent many nights with him, time has blurred into years, and they wouldn't change it for anything.

They hear a gentle huff from him, his hand squeezes their wrist, "Hey, Sweetheart... are you okay?"

That accent, music to their ears, compels them to answer, "Yes..."

He helps them up, dusting them off, "What's going on, what happened?"

They pull their sleeves up, "I thought you were some intruder, didn't expect a chase!" A soft thud as they pat his shoulder.

He clicks his tongue, "You call that a chase? That was barely a sprint, what are you talking about?" He stops to kiss their cheek, sighing before continuing with a smirk on his face, "And if there was anyone, I know damn well we both could've handled them. I mean, shit! Me with my speed and these fangs, and you with the stealth! We're fucking invulnerable, Sweetheart!"

They smile at him, feeling his hands snake their way to their waist, him looking up at them, the moon reflecting in his eyes. They place their hands on his shoulders, squeezing, then moving a hand to his cheek. He doesn't break eye contact, looking at them softly, pressing his face into their palm.

He opens his mouth, pressing the tip of a fang onto their palm. He's getting the instinct to nibble on them, despite not needing to feed, he just wants his fangs on their skin. He smiles and kisses the area, but stops when he hears something. He pulls away from their hand, staring blankly into the dark bush of trees.

"Out there, in the forest. You ready for an actual chase, baby?" He squeezes their hand, and they let it fall to their side, staring into the trees, trying to figure out what he heard. Was it animal? Human? Empowered or Unempowered? Could they fight back? Would they want to?

"Not sure I'll catch up to you."

"Eh, you don't gotta. Just be with me. Come on, I got the scent. I might be feeling a little peckish tonight."

As he turns, they grab his arm, "What is it?"

His hand goes over theirs, "Just a wolf, uh, shifter, guessing they might've lost their way to their pack. Let's say we redirect 'em, huh?"

"Milo..."

"I know. I won't feed, you got all the blood I need, baby."

They have the urge to roll their eyes but his words and tone are genuine, comforting, grounding.

He gives them a toothy grin, fangs poking into his lips, "You'll keep me in check anyway. Nothing wrong with a vamp needing his own protector, huh?"

They huff, "Let's get this done with, then. A wolf on your territory isn't something you need, considering how much of your scent is out there."

"Our territory. Our scent. This place is just as much as mine as it is yours, Sweetheart. Don't forget that."

They watch as he gets closer, his hand wrapping around the back of their neck as he presses his forehead against their's. They hear him take in a deep breath, taking in their scent, then exhale. After a few seconds, he presses an innocent kiss to their neck. They giggle and pat a fist at his shoulder, "Let's get going, before you drain me on the spot."

He scoffs as they take a few steps forward, a goofy smile on their face, "I would never! You know me! All my cues and shit!... Unless you're wanting to be bit, I can make an arrangement for that... Yeah, definitely."

"All your cues, huh? Yeah, let's go before you tackle me right now, I can already see it-" They chuckle as they raise their hands up in the air, mimicking a screen.

"Okay, okay!" He huffs and catches up to them, and they start sprinting down the hill. He matches their pace pretty quickly, "I'll go left, you go straight, they're in pretty deep so I don't think they know this area much. You know what to do after that, Sweetheart. I'll meet with you back home."

The two share a confident glance before Milo sprints further, reaching the trees before they do. He stops, watching them cloak before he goes any further. He tracks their scent, whispering to himself, "Just one guy but it's still risky. A wolf and a Stealth... Come back to me, baby. I don't need to hear your heartbeat thuddin' from anyone else but me."

Even when they're cloaked, he still catches onto them. Their steady heartbeat, small huffs when they breathe as they run, and the ever so slightly heard crunch of the twigs underneath them. Everything of them calls to his senses, to protect and to admire. He trusts them with all of his undead heart, his veins could practically run with their blood with how much they've offered themselves to him. It's all been willingly, and he would repay that if he could. They're his lifeline, he won't take blood from anyone or anything else unless he needed to, if he was forced to. And he hopes it never comes to that.

Milo starts to run again, letting his Sweetheart creep up onto the shifter. He stays in the darkness of the trees, feeling their heart thud from so far away. The shifter has been walking for a bit, as if trying to memorize the area. They're in their wolf form, coat brown as the earth under them. Milo swallows, glaring at the wolf and their jaws, their giant form is nearly as big as his Sweetheart. He nearly has the urge to take down the wolf himself, but with them nearby, he wouldn't risk it. The wolf has their nose to the ground suddenly, picking up on a new scent. Milo's ears detect animals and insects, birds and any other living thing that might take the wolf's attention. But they're too close.

Milo's stalked up to the wolf by now, watching them with caution. And then, a twig snaps. His breath hitches in his chest as the large wolf quickly turns around, snapping and baring their teeth. Milo can hear his Sweetheart's heart, beating quickly, their veins pumping, the wolf sniffs the air again. Milo can hear them trying to slow their breathing as the wolf is now looking in their direction. He takes a few steps forward, the wolf turns their head in his direction rather quickly. They take a few steps towards Milo, practically staring into his eyes if the wolf had enough conviction to find out what the noise was. Staring into the trees, the wolf suddenly bolts in the opposite direction.

Milo lets out a low, irritated hiss as he gives chase, the wolf seems to be faster than him for now, with no energy wasted in the beginning of a chase. Milo's attention is fully on the wolf in front of him, needing to reach them, to get them out of his and Sweetheart's territory. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the wolf get shoved forcefully into the trees, unable to get up by an invisible force. Milo watches his Sweetheart fade into view, on top of the wolf, using all the strength they can muster to keep the giant shifter down. Milo watches their elbow keep the jaws shut, a front paw locked in place in between a leg and the other pushing deep against the wolf's belly. Their free hand threatening to break a back leg, grip tightening as they demand for the wolf to shift into their human form.

Milo is amazed at their strength, and also terrified at what they can do. Guess DUMP has some... intimidating tactics in terms of restraining people, and gigantic wolves in this matter. Milo recovers and walks up to them, keeping the wolf down against a tree. The wolf stops struggling once they catch Milo's scent, a wary eye not leaving his figure. He places a hand on Sweetheart's shoulder, and they relieve some tension on the wolf, but still having control over the situation. He kneels next to them, staring at the wolf. Sweetheart turns to him, giving a face that begs the question, "What do we do?" It's tacit, Milo raises his brow at them quickly, and they keep the wolf down, "Keep going."

"For the last damn time, shift back." Sweetheart growls as they keep the pressure on the wolf's leg, "I don't need to use much force to break this. We just need to know which pack you're from."

The wolf yelps at the pressure, and glances back at Milo to Sweetheart quickly. Milo pats their shoulder, and they let go of the wolf. They stand up, stepping back but bringing some electro magic to their fingers in case this gets crazy. They analyze the wolf, every movement of their muscles as they stand. The wolf huffs, standing still, glaring down at the vampire whose still close. They feel the small bits of electricity zap at their fingertips, the magic swirling around their hand, yellow and white flashes, waiting to be released. Milo's own stare at the wolf almost makes them stand down. Almost. He doesn't want to trance them, but if they get those teeth anywhere near them, they'll pay for it.

The wolf looks around, breaking contact with Milo. The pair watch as the wolf's paws tap on the ground, but Milo wouldn't expect them to snap at his Sweetheart. They barely step back in time before the jaws could catch around their head, and in retaliation, the Stealth unleashes the stored up electro magic. The wolf starts running at the crackle of lightning, the first bolt barely missing their tail. Sweetheart keeps their arm up, holding it up with the other, repeatedly sending bolts of electricity to try to apprehend the wolf.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Go!"

They nudge their head in the wolf's direction, fierce eyes telling Milo to tred on without them. He nods, quickly gaining speed and catching up to the wolf. Once Milo's close enough, he reaches an arm out to try to grab at their fur, but he barely misses. He tries again, getting closer and finally grabbing the wolf's skin, twisting the fur in his hand. Immediately, the wolf tries to turn back and nip at his hand, but trips and Milo quickly grabs at them. As they tumble on the ground, Milo feels the giant wolf get smaller. He no longer feels fur against him, but cloth. Milo restrains the shifter, holding down an arm behind their back, the other around their neck, and a leg tight around their knee. They fight back, bashing their elbow against his torso.

"The hell was that? What the hell was that?! They told you to shift back, how stubborn could you be?! If it's unknown territory, you don't come here! Our scents are all over, how could you not tell?!"

The shifter shivers against him but they don't say anything, a low growl from their throat is the only sign of a threat against the vampire.

Milo questions again, "What pack are you from? We don't take too kindly to wolves anymore, so spill."

Sweetheart finally catches up, circling around Milo and the shifter, charging up their electro magic again. They glance at Milo to let them go, and he does. The shifter warily gets up, Milo doing the same. They heal the slight bruising on their neck, clearing their throat.

“Why don’t you want wolves here?”

Milo scoffs, narrowing his eyes at them, “That’s rich. You not from here or something?”

Sweetheart continues for him, “His… our King was killed. Betrayal from our wolf allies during a Summit. That’s all you need to know.”

“What pack did it?”

Sweetheart is about to answer but Milo interjects, walking in between the two, “That’s enough. Your scent doesn’t give off who I thought… get outta here. And uh, sorry for the roughhousing.”

“I’m a wolf, I’m used to it,” they say before taking a few steps forward, “How do I…?”

Milo sighs, “Keep running ‘til you don’t smell us anymore.”

With this leniency, the shifter quickly leaves.

Milo groans, Sweetheart walking to him to rub his upper arms soothingly, “You okay?”

He looks up at them, “You know I don’t like mentioning that…”

“I know, I’m sorry Milo, but they needed clarification. It seemed like they never heard what happened, so they’re possibly alone. But we don’t have to worry about them anymore, let’s go home.”

Milo mumbles the word again, home. If he wasn’t stuck in that damn house, confined to the shadows, forever aching to see the sun, he could actually have a home with Sweetheart in the city. Instead, his duties and loyalty to his mother, his Queen, forbid him. He smiles as he feels Sweetheart bring a hand to his cheek, raising his head to look at them. They know he’s stuck in his head, and they want to help.

“Hasn’t all that running made you hungry yet?”

He smirks at them, but thoughts of hunger lead to cooking. Milo misses cooking, that passion of making something full of flavor and love, now meaningless due to his thirst for blood. Now, he only cooks for Sweetheart. Whatever they want, he’ll make it, but it feels bittersweet. They squish his cheeks, making him smile, thoughts fading away.

“Yeah. You offering, baby?”

“Maybe I am.”

He places a hand over their wrist, “Where do you want me? Wrist or…?”

“In bed.”

Milo chuckles at their tone, sweet and teasing. Wanting. Wanting him, even as he is now. Needing him without the stuff that was taken from him. Loving him even as he thinks of himself as half of the man he was. Those thoughts break again as he feels Sweetheart tug on his shirt, already walking the path towards home.

They bite their lip as Milo gently kisses down their neck, he’s rushing to get their top off, making small rips in the fabric that he painstakingly notices. He doesn’t want to be too rough with them, considering his strength. He hates it, he wants to touch them with all of the need in him, but sometimes the strength is too much. Once the top is off, he gently pushes them down on the bed, comfortable sheets making them relax their shoulders. Seeing them relax always helped calm his nerves, and seeing them shirtless is definitely helping.

He straddles them, looking down at their bare torso, fingers grazing down their stomach, “Such soft skin… Claimed by my bite far too many times, and I’ll do it again…”

He leans down, kissing all over their chest, feeling and hearing their blood rush and heartbeat like a song.

He mumbles against their skin, “Mine… all mine to mark, to sink my teeth into, to never let go… my forever…”

They make a soft moan as his lips move up their jugular, a hand of his moving down underneath their bottoms, playing with their flesh, gentle yet strong fingers flickering and rubbing against their soft spot. He feels their thighs clench and release at the feeling, it’s just how their body reacts to him, and he savors it.

After a few more kisses, his hunger catches up to him as he mouths their neck and jaw, “Mmm, fuck… can I bite now, Sweetheart? Your blood sings to me, I need your voice to do the same, please…”

They both sigh in pleasure as Sweetheart bucks their hips into his hand, Milo bites his lip, quivering, “Fucking hell… do that again, you look so beautiful… I can handle a bit without your blood for a few seconds, if it means, hmm, means to hear you moan like that again.”

They nod, lidded eyes staring deep into his with a small smile on their face. Another graciously earned moan as Milo moves his hand with skill, prolonging the pleasure for them. This slow pace become agonizing to Milo, he needs their blood, he needs their pleasure, he needs to feast. He gives them a long throaty, shaky groan, his need spoken without words.

They bring a hand to his lips, fingers loosely pulling his bottom lip down before cupping his jaw, “Bite me.”

He tries to restrain himself, leaning down with vigor as he opens his mouth against their neck again. Their orgasm comes quick within the first few seconds of his teeth sinking into their skin. Their blood fuels him, but it also causes blood to rush somewhere else. He pulls his hand out from their bottoms, both hands grasping the sheets as he groans against their neck. He feels their legs wrap around his waist, nice and tight, a simple whimper of his name and he’s tumbled into his own orgasm as well. With a wet pop, Milo soon removes his mouth from their neck, kissing the punctures and licking any stray blood.

“Want… fuck, you taste so good, mmm…. But, do you want me to heal it?”

They shush him, “No, you’re probably high on my blood, let me do it…”

Milo laughs as they bring their hand to their neck, rolling it and then healing the punctures. He watches the skin clear up, before pressing a few more kisses. As they relax, Milo rubs his head against theirs.

“You are so good for me, Sweetheart, letting me feed on you like this, I love you so much.”

They smile up at him, giving him a proper kiss on his bloodstained lips, “I love you too.”

Taking advantage of his buzzed out state, Sweetheart moves him to lay on the bed. He lands with a soft ‘ooph’, closing his eyes and the pair immediately cling onto each other. They cuddle into him, and the last thing Sweetheart hears him mumble before sleep takes them…

“You make this life worth living…”

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted shaw pack #redacted wolf boys #redacted fooliverse #redacted vamp milo

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mizugucci · 3 months ago

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onf in chicago

hi yall im finally posting my account of seeing onf in chicago!!!! its only like 4 days late... like i said best day ever!!! below are all my notes + a bunch of photos, please forgive what i look like lol but i was so happy :)

for those that know me, know this was a HUGE deal. so of course this is going to be very long and detailed. luckily for most of my followers ill be putting it under a readmore <3

so i bought the highest tier ticket for obvious reasons, so ill just so chronologically:

first was sound check and they did ugly dance and i could NOT believe i was seeing onf in the flesh. im pretty sure i died and went to heaven then and there

once they were done with soundcheck, they did the hi-touch and group photo. the actual practice was messy but it was fun so i don't think people minded. i dont remember anything except that for whatever reason, i was legitimately the FIRST PERSON and it was a lot lmao

additionally during the group photo i had wyatt to myself lol i froze for a second but he was so kind and polite, he asked what pose i wanted to do and i dont remember if i responded or not but we did a little heart together <3

then the fansign happened and i dont remember the majority of it, partly bc i was a flustered idiot lol but i got my complete album signed!!!! life goal met for sure. wyatt i remember specifically thinking again how kind and polite he was, idr seungjun/etion but i got to hyojin and he had his hand up kind of for a highfive and i gave him the album and tried to high five at the same time it was. very awkward LOL he thought it was funny (i hope) then yuto complimented my kitty cat ears!!! i remember saying something stupid and being an idiot in front of minkyun too but. what can we do

finally was the long anticipated fanchat!!! i had my fanchat with yuto obviously and it was nerve wracking as hell but i love him so much i powered through and i hope he got something out of our conversation

the photo that we took & he signed was my best one of the night, so im really happy with how that turned out. its going to be my treasure for a long time to come:

anyway first thing i want to note is that we were sitting at high tables for the talk, but he couldnt even sit without the table dwarfing him so he stood the whole time LMAO my short king i love him so much

so after we took the photo i sat down and honestly im not sure how much he understood the first half, bc he didnt react/respond and he was slightly confused about english in the 2nd half but ANYWAY i told him i was so so proud of him, how far he's come and especially weathering the time of being alone during military era... lots of gushy stuff lol

then i asked him what b-side he liked dancing to the most and he was SO CUTE when he cocked his head and went "b-side?" so it took a moment to get my point across and he was like ohhhh, umm fly me to the moon! and i almost made a total fool of myself reacting LOL bc as some of you know, fly me to the moon is literally my favorite ONF b-side. of all time. and partly due to yuto's center dance break with the saxophone.

yuto was confused but excited when i reacted (like i audibly gasped) and i said omg thats my favorite too!!! and he got so happy and i even proved it further being like, *points to u* dance break center! saxophone! and he nodded a bunch and was so excited lmao

i think he was also surprised at being a favorite, especially when he asked me when i became a fan and i said end of 2017 (which was true i was a fan, but became a stan in jan of 2019) and he seemed impressed! then our chat had ended there and i almost passed out afterwards haha

then we all had to leave the venue again before the concert started. i met a lot of really cool people that day so some of us went across the street to dunkin. had fun lmao

the concert started and my GOD minkyun's mic was on!!!!! and how does he always have so much energy??? also i had the lightstick and was having the time of my life screaming along lol they were fantastic incredible showstopping etc etc i tried to take some videos but i was just vibing (and shaking) too much i had to give up. but it was so nice to finally go to a concert that i had the lightstick for

went into the concert with solid 3rd bias (etion) and came out of it 3rd bias as seungjun lol. theres a lot to talk about song-wise but ill save that for later. in short, i almost cried when they did bye my monster. and tmwl. and byubyu.

also elle i did record asteroid for you (not that its a good video, or one that ill share...) but it did remind me of you lol! they did difficult & moscow moscow which were both surprises to me but very welcome. all day as well was fantastic!

about halfway thru the concert (but not the ballad section) i had given up on videos so i was just rocking out w the lightstick & i pretended to hit hyojins high note with the lightstick as a microphone until someone that i met nudged me & looked up to see seungjun staring at me

it was sooo funny the facial expression he was making. i cant even describe it but once we made eye contact it was like he smiled slowly literally like the grinch and went 'hehe' to make sure i knew he saw me doing that LOL

so i knew i had to get a snapshot with him that showcased the lightstick:

theres so much more about the concert but its all mainly about the songs & the fact i finally saw them live. but i do need to mention the fact goosebumps was practically a rave lmao loved it

after the concert was the group photo selfie which was really cool but would be better if my phones camera wasnt absolute shit & they did a more flattering angle...

dont let this photo fool you, they are short kings (im as tall or taller than multiple of them, minkyun & wyatt are the only ones i remember being taller than me. wyatt was surprising)

i didnt really say anything memorable during snapshots bc i was just so star-struck, but i do remember wyatt going out of his way to be nice lol also i saw yuto multiple times & i was sooo mad there was only a few of us that bought premium snapshot for him. i also got along well with minkyun and highfived him again. i let most of the members choose their poses. yes i got multiple mks. yes i made him do cat ears.

and here are all the others. i got at least 1 type of snapshot with each of the members

anyway tl;dr best day of my life, its only downhill from here! unless they announce another tour... we shall see... im so glad they're getting so much love from fuse, i know we (both onf and fuses) have been waiting for a long time

im also very happy that there really is no reason NOT to have overseas tours... we've already beat the 7 year curse & completed military. the world is onf's oyster and i cant wait to see what they do going forward <3

#onf #onf in chicago #haley & elle if u see this pls read #youll know why LOL #onf spotlight tour #there are rumors of an encore tour #and/or another comeback+tour combo #im saving up regardless btw #mtxt #idk why anyone would but this is fine to rb!

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moorishflower · 2 years ago

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pirate/siren dreamling 2: now w/more homoerotic cannibalism

we're playin fast n loose w/time in this one but idc because it's too much fun lol

@teejaystumbles more siren au for your perusal my dear!

All told, it takes Hob ten years to pull himself back together. Hardly a drop in the bucket of immortality, but each season that passes without him returning to the shores of Brighton makes him itch something fierce. But there's no rushing it: he's starting from scratch, after all, but worse still, he's starting with a reputation. News of his stranding has reached all the way to London by the time that he gets there himself, and he's forced to lay low for a time, to shave his beard and grow out his hair, to take a new name. Just different enough to not be marked upon a register: Robin Gadlyn.

So he bides his time. He shores up his savings. He becomes Robin Gadlyn, who has returned from Tangier with the intent of signing on again as a shiphand, the call of the sea still in his blood. It's not hard to find a ship that's looking for easy labor. What's harder is finding a small ship, with a cruel captain and a tired crew. Fortunately, cruelty is an export that is never in short supply, and at last, in his ninth year, Hob boards Le Petit Nief, captained by one Edmund Everille, a man in his late forties with thinning dark hair and a redness to his nose that speaks of drink and a twist to his mouth that suggests cruelty.

It only takes him four months at sea to bring the rest of the crew to his side, and he suffers the lash only three times throughout, which Hob considers to be fortunate. Less fortunate is Everille, who ends up pitched over the rails in the dead of night, his left eye a slashed ruin from where Hob had buried his dagger. No mercy, he thinks, for cruelty.

He's voted captain nearly-unanimously, and the two who vote nay, he speaks to individually. Addresses their concerns -- that he's young, inexperienced, thinks above his station -- and invites them to council him as they see fit. Hob's learned that most of the time, when people complain, all they really want is to be heard.

He wants his crew to be heard. He wants them to hear him in turn. He doesn't want a repeat of the last ship, when his ignorance resulted in him stranded, even if it did net him with his greatest calling, his reason for unending life.

Sometimes, when it storms, the scar at his thigh aches, fierce and vicious, and he remembers the brilliant swathe of colors that had painted that hidden grotto, and his heart swells with something huge, and terrible, and too difficult to name. He traces the scar with his fingertips, the neat imprints of teeth, and remembers how the creature had looked at him, there in the dark, its eyes like shining stars and its expression almost like awe. Awe! When he was the poor bastard caught by that siren call!

It doesn't matter. It's been ten years, and if the thing is still there, he intends to find it. A decade is long enough, perhaps, to smooth over any harsh feelings over not allowing himself to be eaten, and if the creature isn't there…well. Then he'll search. He's got all of eternity to do it.

When Le Petit Nief (newly christened the Lightfot after a hasty vote from the crew) docks at Brighton, ten years almost to the day since Hob was marooned, he feels an unaccountable sense of relief. Whatever happens, he still has his health, his life, and his liberty, and maybe he's a fool, to have spent the last ten years collecting trinkets and treasures to bring to some sharp-toothed sea god, but then, he's never pretended to not be a fool. Recklessness calls to him as sure as that siren's wail, and he gives the crew leave to visit the town under the condition that they cause no trouble lest trouble find them first.

And, under cover of the moon, the air humid and thick with summer's heat, he takes his little pouch of treasures, and his oilskin pouch of foodstuffs, and he takes a dinghy out to the chalk-white cliffs.

The sea is calm and beautiful, reflecting the moon like a fat pearl floating on the waves, darling Venus' delight. Hob takes an apple for himself from the rations that he's brought, and thoughtfully cuts it into quarters. And then, humming softly, he scores his palm with the tip of the blade, and lets it hang over the edge of the boat, dripping night-blackened blood into the depths.

Apples are sweet, this time of year. Firm beneath the teeth. There's different satisfaction to be had in fruit and meat, he muses. Meat fills the belly, but fruit heals the soul. One need only eat an orange after a long voyage at sea to feel the difference. He wonders if the creature has ever eaten fruit -- if it has spent its whole life in the depths, and never seen eggs, nor bread, nor honey. He wonders if, for it, the taste of his blood was as exotic as a fine wine, or if it was only a base satisfaction.

The water ripples beside the boat, and Hob peers over the side, clenching his fist to bring up more blood.

He gets no warning -- one second the boat is still and calm, and the next it thrashes sideways, rocked by the slam of many limbs, and Hob feels something strong and sleek as an eel wrap around his leg and yank. Panic is instinctive; he kicks, and feels another tether around his opposite foot, and, unmoored, he goes sliding over, the fingers of his cut hand grappling at the edge of the boat, but finding no purchase between the wash of the sea and the slickness of his own blood.

He's dragged down.

Down, and down, into darkness, the light of the moon disappearing above him, covered by the hull of the dinghy, until his eyes are forced to try to adjust to the endless pitch. They needn't adjust for long: some seconds later, and there's a wild flare of color, of light, springtime yellow and pink as rosy as dawn, all specked through with silver starlight. He sees the shape of the creature. He sees the strong limbs, supple, twined about his legs.

He sees its face: a man's face, sharp and canny, with high cheekbones and lips that look nearly black in the chaotic splash of color. When it -- when he -- smiles, it shows a hint of needle-like teeth, a perfect row of sharpness. Hob's lungs are burning, and every blessed instinct in him tells him to fight, to claw, to scramble back to the surface for a gasp of needed air.

Instead, he holds the quartered apple between them. The creature's limbs writhe busily over his legs, feeling out the shape of his calves and thighs beneath his breeches, and Hob holds its gaze while he opens his mouth and takes a bite of apple, bubbles ticking in slow files from his nostrils. He raises his brows. He sways closer, pulled as surely as the tide by the creature's tentacles, slowly inching their meandering way over his arse, the small of his back.

The creature blinks at him -- blinks! not quite like a fish at all, then -- and leans in to meet him, curious. He opens his mouth and lets the water wash into it, and Hob sees a curious mechanism of motion at his neck, which his air-deprived brain takes long seconds to recognize as gills.

Slowly, the creature scents him, sticks out a tongue as pink as a tea rose and touches it to the corner of Hob's waiting mouth, and then, in curiosity, to the bite of apple he holds in his lips. The teeth are so sharp, so sharklike, and so near to his face that Hob's heart kicks in fretful earnesty. He begs it to be gentle, and he begs his prick to stay quiet, and his vision fuzzes gently at the edges as the creature takes the apple from his mouth into his own. His dark brows raise, and Hob, his lungs screaming, and with nothing to occupy his mouth any longer, breathes in at last.

He wakes to a familiar sight: the grey-white walls of a chalk grotto, the light of the moon streaming through an opening in the stone, water pouring in all the waves of the unrelenting sea from his lungs. He rolls onto his side and heaves, coughing and spitting until his throat is sore and his chest hurts. Something taps between his shoulders, and then roughly slaps, sending another gout of water rushing from him, another fit of coughing. It doesn't feel like a hand, but it takes Hob minutes to overcome the gagging, and minutes longer still to reach coherence again.

The dinghy. The grotto. His gifts. He rolls onto his back, and finds that the cave he lies in isn't so dim as he originally thought.

The source of light becomes immediately clear, a pale-silver glow that leans over him, and gradually resolves, again, into the creature, the man, with his skin shining like glowbugs along the river in faint moonlit hue, with his eyes deep and dark as ink, and Hob sees, now, that his mouth isn't black, but red. Garnets blush his lips, and behind them the unsheathed daggers of his teeth, white as bone.

"You're beautiful," he says, and his voice is shaky, and hoarse, but Christ, he feels alive. "You know, I've been waiting ten years to find you again. Sorry for the wait."

The creature tilts his head, and Hob tries to gesture vaguely towards the pouches at his belt.

"I've brought. Ah . Gifts? I don't know what you are, some, some sea-god or siren, or…I don't know. But I hope you like them. I hope --" His hope isn't given the chance to explain itself, because the creature sways in closer, rubbing its mouth busily against the curve of Hob's neck. Without a beard it feels strangely intimate. Then again, he thinks it would feel the same whether he were bearded or not. The creature is slick and smooth all over, its mouth a warm snuffling press that drags over the thud of his jugular and then rests there.

"Or we could do that," he says softly, and tilts his head, and bares his throat. "Not like I haven't got blood to spare. Can tell the men a shark got me."

And, "No," the creature says, and Hob nearly sits bolt upright, and is held in place only by the heavy weight that slithers across his groin, the many limbs pinning him to the ground. Christ, but the thing is strong.

"You can talk," he says, joy in every word, and a ripple passes through the light, a wave of yellow ochre.

"Yes. Some. Mine."

The sharp teeth dig into his neck, not a proper bite, but a scoring of flesh. They drag, opening veins, but not the vein, and the hot flood of pain wakes every limb, jerks him to cognition faster than any wine or spirit. His hands scrabble for purchase on the ground, and then he feels them being taken up, slick tendrils exploring busily between his fingers.

"All right," he says. "Yes. Yours. No shark's."

He's rewarded with a soft rumble, a purr like a cat and a neat little clicking sound that he identifies, after a moment, as the creature's teeth champing together. He feels hands -- hands! human-shaped and gently grasping -- push back into his hair, scratching with nails as sharp as talons.

"Good," the creature says, and the bite, when it comes at last, rests not over his jugular, but at the crook of neck and shoulder, where the muscle is thick and corded from hauling rope, where the sharp teeth sink and spike with pain and bleed him slowly, but do not kill. The creature nurses like a babe from the wellspring that flows from him, and each suck is a bright star of sensation tied from shoulder to heart to prick. Hob strains against the limbs that hold him, not away, but closer.

Queer things, he thinks wildly, it does queer things to the soul. His soul was damned already, he thinks, from years of mercenary work and casual banditry. Let his soul become odd, if it means he can have this.

Blood pours hot and steady for long minutes, and the only sounds in the grotto are the creature's suckling, the wet smear of his mouth on Hob's skin, and Hob's own desperate panting. The weight on him is familiar, a lover's press, the core of the creature's body poised over his groin and wriggling slowly. His prick is caught between wet linen and what feels like a hundred touching, grasping hands, studiously plucking at his breeches, his boots, his tunic while their master feasts up above.

"Let me touch you," he says, he begs. This creature is the sea, beautiful and wild, the tempestuous waves and the deadly calms, and he's the soaring salt-wind and the cry of the gulls along the shore, the bright flicker of fish in the shallows, the darkness of the depths, and Hob thinks that the sea has its hooks in the blood of all men, but in him deeper than most. He can feel it in his heart, with each pump that takes his blood from his body into the vast and wending sea.

The creature makes a noise too close to laughter to not be, and the teeth retract from his neck, leaving a feeling not unlike the emptiness after being tupped. Hob sighs with it, rocks his hips to try and find something to fill that yawning gap, and finds his hands being drawn in rippling motion to the creature's hips. He feels human, here, a pelvis that's vaguely familiar, the smooth skin of his flanks. No navel, Hob thinks, with no small amount of dizziness.

"Yes," the creature says again, and he bucks upwards with a sob. His neck feels hot and cold all at once, and he's empty. "Be mine. Have me."

The voice is like a fisher's gaff, that spears through the ear and into the brain; a pulse that skims over his flesh and leaves ripples in its wake. It's the lonely call of the lighthouse's warning on a foggy eve, a gull's cry, the sound of the lapping tides. It washes over him. It'd drown him, if he let it.

Hob curls his fingers into the white flesh and strains upward, fucking into the writhing, muscular twitch of tentacles that cover him. They've none managed to figure out his breeches, but the linen is barely an impediment at all -- something slim and tapered bunches the fabric around his cock, until there's a sharp rip of cloth and blessed, blessed contact. A cool, wet spiral of flesh that circles his prick, a dozen lightning-touched mouths laying kisses along the length of him, and he sobs again. Cannot help himself.

"A name," he says, and smoothes his hands over the angular planes of the creature's chest. What he'd taken for nipples from a distance are flat and soft beneath his fingers, but draw a similar response as with many men: a soft sigh, the creature's head thrown back to expose the long white column of his throat, and the sharpness of his teeth. "Give me a name to call you, sweet."

"A name," the creature repeats, and gives another fluting sigh, and does not answer. His hands are still in Hob's hair, now tugging, and Hob goes to them, heaves himself to sitting so that the creature is perched on him, and he's fucking into the wet grasp of it like he would a woman, bouncing him in his lap. Everything is a riot of movement and the slick noise of flesh, and Hob tilts his head, angling for a kiss.

"Douce mer," he gasps, and the creature bends, at last, to brush their mouths together. No proper kiss, no caress of tongue and lips, but a smear of blood into his mouth; the creature kisses like he intends to eat him. Hob kisses him back like he'd allow it. "Mer de nuit. I can keep going."

"Yes." The word is bitten into his mouth, a catch of teeth against his lip, which the creature chases with singleminded intensity. "More."

And they say that the gods of the sea are fickle, and proud, and desirous, and so Hob laughs, and between the iron tang of his own blood he whispers: my sweet, my treasure, my darling. The creature rides him in rolling waves, and his skin is flickering flashes of color, of reds and pinks as deep as the brilliant dawn, and silver as sharp as the moon.

When Hob peaks, it's with a cry that he bites into the creature's mouth, his blunt human teeth catching the berry-red lips, hips stuttering as the thing's tentacles wring every ounce of spend from him, and then some. They crowd him, smearing the warmth of his seed across his length, each of them fighting for a turn to touch him, and all the while the creature moans into his mouth, shuddering softly in his arms. There's a new taste on his lips, and Hob chases it with his tongue.

"Mine," the creature murmurs again. The hands in his hair curl and shiver. "Mine."

Hob lets himself lay down, his back flat against the unforgiving stone, the afterwaves of his pleasure still rolling through him like thunder over the open ocean.

"All right," he says, and licks his lips again. Salt, and living things, and kelp. The sea. "All right."

The creature pets his hair, tousling it this way and that. And then, with a gentle sigh, he lays his head upon Hob's chest. His heart still beats there, strong and steady, despite the hook the sea has stabbed within it, and slowly, gradually, the light in the grotto eases, the busy movement of the creature's tentacles slows, until it's only the moon, a fat and drifting pearl, that casts its unjudging eye through the cave's mouth upon the lovers entangled there.

#siren au #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream/hob #dream of the endless/hob gadling #dream/hob gadling #the sandman #the sandman fic #my fic #the sandman fanfiction #tw cannibalism #tw blood #tw drowning #tw tentacles #cannot express to you how consensual this is including the cannibalism #is it cannibalism if your lover is an ancient mercreature #anyways they fuck in this one kind of #enjoy entertainment friends

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xsapphirescrollsx · 1 year ago

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Mesquite Grove pt 2

Written Oct 25 2020

Dark! Syverson x Black Reader x Dark! Geralt Also this is post is pic heavy. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

She had offered an exchange.

The writhing twisted thing on the ground, whipped its long slimy arm along the bog’s black moistened soil. It bared its sharp teeth before bellowing a sorrowful moan.

Geralt stared down at what used to be a beautiful woman. With her once melodic voice she had promised youth, riches beyond measure, and power - if he would let her live.

Allow her to continue her own reign of terror over the small but humble village. She had brought strife, she carried sickness into their homes, disturbed their spirits.

Geralt wasn’t a fool. Of course he had considered her offer, but knew it was nothing more than conjured filaments of promises. It would have only been real as long as she lived.

What are a handful of crowns in exchange to leaving innocent people to harm?

Though he was no saint. It took sleeping with the village’s leader’s prettiest daughter and taking half her dowry to gain his contract. One cannot ask if one is not willing to give.

And he delighted in the taking.

As in this moment, the black eyes matched his as he stared into the abysmal void that was quickly spreading down its body.

Geralt bared his own bright white teeth and plunged the sword further into the monster's rib cage, piercing its heart and impaling the dirt below. Green ooze bubbled out of the wound. The moan gurgled into a desperate scream, echoing throughout the forest, shattering the peace surrounding it.

The moment Geralt withdrew his sword the ground beneath him shook. Around him, wind began to whip and the wispy clouds around him whirled above him. Thinking, calculating, Geralt wondered what new spell this was. Eyes now back to their golden color he stared at the swirling beginning to descend about him.

He tried to take a step, strained again to pull back from the gravity sucking him upward.

Geralt reached for the beast at the same time his feet left the ground. Out of time the rotten skin slipped through his fingers, the whirlwind carried him up and up.

The forest chattered once more. The creature laid there dead as Geralt had planned. But there was no Geralt here, or sword.

The moon hung behind a clear pane of glass, in the room you shared with Sy. Near the bed, where you laid, within her own wooden bassinet, the soft breathing of an infant soothed some of your worries. Pregnancy had looked great on you. Actually, you had never felt better and almost disturbingly so. It was September now, a month passed giving after a near painless birth to Astrid.

The little darling, Sy’s heir and your delight, and your reason for sleepless nights. Not because she required taking care of, that came easy enough, but your system had changed. You had little sickness throughout the pregnancy, energy boundless in a way you longed for the days where you could sleep a full night.

This was one of those nights. Sleepless wasn’t the word for it. You flipped on your side and stared out of the window. The advent of fall had begun revealing a clear cool night sky with stars dotting above the tops of the pecan tree basking in the white light of the moon. You heavily sighed and rolled on to your back. It was ill advised by the old matrons that new mothers were allowed to roam the woods like their other halves. So you were laying on the large, billowy bed, muscles twitching to wander, heart waiting for the moment your bare feet could hit the ground.

You stared at the wood grain above the bed and listened to the dark, imprinted the sound of Astrid’s breathing to your memory, and beyond the window pane howls - distant, calling to the night, did little to lull you to sleep. Your secret weapon to combat restlessness was to wiggle your foot. Quick short bursts of movement rocked you gently. Your eyes slowly blinked followed by a deep yawn and you shut them completely. The things to do in the morning began to drift less in your thoughts and it became more important to cave into the sinking sensation of sleep. You attempted to blink again, though did not.

Your foot stopped moving.

The dream began with feet, steadily walking through overgrown grass, stopping at first and then started again. Night rounded around the image, the skin was coated in black smudges, blood, the hem of a dark dress dragged and smeared it around the calves. You could smell the iron in the air along with rot, not animal death, but that of felled trees with fungus aiding in its decay. A woman, she began to run as the vision pulled back and revealed that within her arms a bundled lay there. No bigger than Astrid, could have been Astrid the love you felt was as strong as that for Astrid.

But it wasn’t, this woman was afraid of losing this bundle. Though not to death, but to forces beyond her control, so she ran.

The dream shifted to fog, no footsteps to be heard. Made of air and a moist breeze they walked out from the trees and surrounded the woman. The bundle lifted from her arms despite her attempts to hold on, what was soft fabric became translucent just as the beings. Her scream scratched the inside of your ears, the wail turned yelling, her mouth was moving but the voices from it did not match. Your body began to shake, the scene rattled too.

“Wake up, Miss! - Oh, old God! Please wake up!” the voice said.

Your eyes peeled open to Peach’s deeply wrinkled face. Worried thin lips were drawn into a straight line. “Miss!”

Your back snapped up straight, head turning towards the bassinet your eyes looked over Astrid. Peach held your shoulders, “She’s okay. But you have to come down--”

You pulled her worn hands from your body and held them within your own. “What’s wrong?”

And then you felt it, a worry, deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Is it Sloan?”

Peach suddenly blubbered, you had never seen her in such a state. The aged woman was tough, and her tears had you climbing out of bed faster than what she could answer.

You stood above Astrid’s bed, touching her belly you turned back toward Peach’s hunched over figure as she wiped at her lined skin.

“I knew it would happen again..god damn--I told Alpha it could happen again.” she mumbled.

Dottie, with her curly hair pulled up tight in a high bun and tugging on old boots, rushed in. “I got Astrid.” she said hurriedly.

Dottie’s face was lowered, her eyes staring down at Astrid. She sighed, that was the moment you noticed a subtle lemon light and then she looked back at you. Behind her, beyond the window the sky whirled with clouds. Some deep yellow, others blue, circled and churned. You moved closer to the bassinet, still staring at the sky when Dottie too turned around, Peach gasped behind you. In the hustle you had not looked at the window, had it been doing this the whole time?

Clattering from down below, near the stone den, loud voices shouted, some hollered for help. Your stomach dropped more. Dottie shot out and grabbed your wrist. “Go.” she said quietly.

You walked past Peach, to the end of the bed, who was still staring at the window with her hands covering her mouth. Grabbing the thick navy robe you turned around back toward Astrid’s bassinet, Dottie was there, her face toward your sleeping baby. You threw it on as she waved for you to go.

It must have been later than you realized, the second floor was devoid of the usual lit sconces, instead the fiery light from below coxed up and gave you warm light to guide you down the stairs. The row of balcony doors came in to few as you quickly descended, the yelling had died down in its place hushed tones followed murmuring.

Eyes wide you hit the bottom of the wooden stairs and turned toward the large space with the stone monument. Women were coming in from across the other rooms with clothes in their arms. You recognized the usual pack, Tator, shorter than Sy preferred tattered jeans dragged across the floor as he paced. Macon, naked, was squatted down near a figure laying flat near the stone of the large statue. Jimbo, he was shirtless as he stretched the waist of the sweats around his waist stood up erect, his normally jovial face was straight and concerned.

You rushed forward, their eyes turned to you and you ignored their bareness as you searched for Sy. They parted for you until his naked back could be seen, “Sy?”

An older woman handed him a shirt, he turned toward you and grabbed your face. “‘You okay?” he asked.

Before you could answer, you moved to this side, your eyes dropped to the figure laying on the floor.

“Ya’ll back up,” Sy called out in a hushed voice. He looked to you again waiting for you to answer his previous question.

But you couldn’t take your eyes off the man on the floor. Sy nudged your cheek with the back of his hand, moist with sweat it was enough to draw your eyes back to him. “I’m fine, so is Astrid.” you whispered, and then pointed down at the man. “Who is that?”

“He looks-” said Jimbo, but stopped.

Peach had wiggled through the men across from you and Sy. Her blue eyes stayed on the man.

“We shifted on the other side of the property, so we were running,” began Sy, as any mumbling died away. “I scraped my leg near the old pyre. I ain’t ever seen anything like it.” His voice strained as he tried to stay calm while speaking. “What I was lookin’ at split and blurred. There was flashing lights in the sky, these clouds circled us and this asshole popped out and landed right on top of me. And then other things, monsters, fell right along with him and disappeared in the woods.”

Both you and Peach met near the side of this man. His shirt was near new, though unique and more like a tunic than a cotton tee. And his boots were good, strange though. “There was a high pitched noise, it sounded like a bomb went off in my head.” continued Sy.

You knelt down at his side, staring at the strands of dirty silver hair. “It reminded me of war.”

Flicking down further down this man’s neck, his pulse thudded quickly underneath pale skin, around the bottom half on his chest and shirt, a medallion on a silver chain. You reached out for it, slowly at first unsure at why you were doing so, but you did it anyway. You held it, still warm from his body and swiped a thumb over the raised décor. “It’s a wolf..” you said softly.

More than that, it matched the same motif and style of that within the crest of the Syverson heirlooms you had seen so many times.

“Looks like what is on the wall in the dining room.”

“I never thought I would see the day…” said Peach.

Sy moved closer, though still standing, at your side. “What’s going on, who is this?”

Your eyes flew back up to the man’s face. Even in his sleep, silver brows seemed to glower in his rest. A familiar profile stuck out to you, it was the same as Sy’s face, same shape of lips, the clef in his chin.

“He looks like you Sloan.” you said, still holding the medallion.

And it happened fast. Peach gasped first before you realized the man’s eyes opened, yellow and pointed in your direction. He snatched your hand within his and sat up, staring down at you. Crushing your fingers around the metal, the man growled before suddenly blinking slowly. Through his nose, he breathed in deep. “You smell…like flowers...dizzy..” his lips barely moved, your eyes met his as he leaned in closer. He continued to do so, his eyes slowly shut, his hand around yours dropped as Sy stepped in time to push him off you.

The man crumbled down to his side while Sy helped you stand. “Who is his?” he was looking down at the man, brows drawn together before he stared at Peach.

Teary eyes were still on the silver haired man. Peach, sighed, mumbled something under her breath before she sighed heavily.

“He’s..” she turned her eyes up to you and then to Sy. “I didn’t think we would ever see him again. Alpha, this man..” she looked back down at him, her hands seeming wanting to reach out to stroke his hair but did not. “This boy is your brother.” she finally said. “Your twin.”

Members of the pack lifted the man and placed him into a bed on the second floor of the cabin. The women had undressed him, mended his scrapes and scratches as he remained unconscious. It was now late morning, daybreak had cast light into the room catching his white hair. You stood at the doorway, observing Peach check his pulse.

“He’s still breathing, seems to be sleeping.” she said to Sy.

Your eyes fell to the man. Something solid settled in your chest when you gazed at him. Akin to how you felt for Sy, but different because while you had no idea who he was, you yearned.

“How is that man your brother?”

The sound of your voice breaking the silence had Sy turning toward you. The disappointment in his express was palpable. His eyes rolled to Peach. “‘Feel like I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

“He wasn’t ‘pose to come back! No lie can be undone if there’s no proof Alpha!”

Sy stepped toward the man, pointed, “He’s right there woman! A whole lie laying in my house!”

“Sloan.”

Olive came in, a large book cradled in her arms, “This was from the old times, before there was a here and our people came to live here.” Sy made to move toward her but stopped when she spoke again, “Your mama made me promise. Omega’s trust is binding.”

She handed the book to you. “In there is about you too.” she said, looking from the thick embossed leather to you.

“What about me Olive?”

“A woman unknown. A stranger no more. Alone in the world, shiftless but finds their grounding.”

You squinted at her. “That could be anybody.”

“--catches the eye of the Alphas.” Olive continued.

Sy interrupts with what you did not catch. “Alphas?”

“First Omega with two mates.”

You blinked, and then squeezed the bridge of your nose while struggling to understand.

“You were destined to be here. The world, gods, -- you were supposed to always be here.” said Olive. “I just..never considered that this prophecy would happen in my time.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t of lied-” Sy growled.

“I had no choice. I was bound by your mother’s word. And her actions were bonded by blood. No way around that, believe me I tried. Your father was missing. And, damnit, your mother knew not to ask the fog for help. She had no idea they would take her son in exchange...” said Olive.

Peach grumbled under her breath. She shuffled toward the end of the bed all the while staring sorrowfully at Sy. “Alpha, this man is your brother.”

“I don’t even know his name.”

“Geralt Syverson. In that book there-” Peach stuck a knobby knuckled finger toward the thick tome. “Says right in there, that man’s name is Geralt.”

Olive sniffed the air for a moment and glanced back at you.

“The rut is tonight.” she said, still staring at you. “Whatever it is you need to think about Alpha, you best do it quickly.” She turned her eyes back to him. “Because this is happening. Destiny is willing it.”

“I don’t give a damn about destiny-”

“I think you will find it is hardly worth out running.” the man mumbled from the bed. “Believe me I’ve tried.”

“Where am I?” he said while glancing out the window. Geralt sat up, moaned deeply and held his head before shifting his eyes up to the man who mirrored his likeness. “And I need a bath.”

You stood tense outside the kitchen door. Back so tight, it was fit to snap but you pivoted from ball to heel, rested the back of your head against the grain. This man’s voice settles in the knot between your shoulder blades. It struck you even deeper in your gut, your soul, whatever that warm feeling that sat in the middle of your chest.

You know more than not, that the reason is something more than soulmates, and connections. You can smell it from here, him, just as you suspected he could sniff you out too. It was raw in your nose, primal, and instinctual.

And you were grateful that the occasional passerby did not stop. Like you, they too avoided the kitchen while this visitor ate.

“Is she yours?” asked Geralt.

Without a pause, “Yes.”

“So she follows you everywhere you go?” he asked. “Why is she standing out there?”

Sy called your name, slowly you rolled on your arm toward the entry. The moment his yellow eyes landed on yours longing unfolded within you.

“I find myself, once again, in a strange land.” he said lightly. Geralt chewed off a bite of toast and gestured toward Sy. “And this man says he is my brother. However, I believe I am much better looking. What do you say?” he said as he swallowed the mouthful.

Sy sat in the chair sideways, with his large legs splayed, he hunched over with his fist flat at the knuckles and pressed into his thigh. He turned his head to you, utterly gentle, soft even to Geralt’s gaze he gave you a half grin.

“Why are you here?” You asked.

Walking over to Sy, you kept watching Geralt the same as his eyes stayed on you. His chewing paused when you grew close, his eyes fell to the arm Sy wrapped around behind your hips before looking you in the eyes.

“I have no idea.” said Geralt, and turned back to his plate.

Slowly his gaze moved from the pile of eggs to the book between him and Sy. He picked up the bottle of beer, chugged it while still staring at the words on the pages. Such an odd man, you observed, since waking he even walked around with a sword strapped to his back. Like now, his top half curved over his plate, those strange eyes shifting -- taking in his surroundings without looking too long.

“But I overheard something about a rut?” He said to Sy. “What are you some sort of animal? A pack of mutant dogs?” he chuckled.

Sy didn’t join in his amusement.

“Werewolves.”

Sy jerked his chin, cut his eyes down to the medallion around Geralt’s neck. And casually, glanced back at that symbol on the ancient page.

“That’s the mark of my family. Our inheritance.”

Geralt put down his beer and leaned back in the wooden chair stiffly.

He rolled his jaw, flicked his tongue between his back teeth and looked to you first. “I’m over a hundred years old.” he said, and then stared at Sy. “Either this is some sort of time dream, or I’m your ancestor. This place doesn’t look like the Continent. Lacks greater magic, but this medallion - it’s been gently vibrating since I’ve arrived.”

“It warns me of magic and danger,” he said. “It’s no family heirloom. It was given to me once I completed my trails.”

It was absurd to think of movies or the vast stories of time travel, but it was all you had.

“So what if you were taken there as an infant.” You looked to Sy. “Like Olive said.”

“And time moves differently in this place you grew up in.” Geralt stared up at you, listening.

“Wouldn’t that account for something? You’re talking about all this magic like it’s true. That’s not how it is here. And only recently have I even considered anything like it.”

You continued to stare back at his unwavering glare. “Don’t you feel different?”

A long silence followed. Sy caught you staring, the heaviness of his grip on your hip pulled you to stare back at your mate. He was still considering Geralt, the man continued to look at you until he spoke.

“He does. And by the end of the night I’m sure you’ll understand why...brother.”

The title brought Geralt’s focus back to Sy. “Odder things have happened in my long life. What’s one more?”

They, the pack, took this new/old comer in stride. Stranger than his sudden appearance was how they welcomed him back into the fold of their lives. Twelve hours since he arrived and Peach was here in front of you talking about him like he had always been.

Her eyes burst with delight as she spoke about him as a baby. How good he was, that he cried very little, and always needed cuddling.

Peach was covered in dark soil. From the creases around her knuckles to the edge of her temple. The old woman cut herbs down to the root as she spoke.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

You blinked a few times, coming back to the moment. You nodded.

Peach threw the last bunch of tarragon in her basket and stood up slowly. “I think your baked chicken will go good with that.”

Peach huffed, shook her head and looked to you exasperated. “That’s not what I was talking about. Don’t be coy. The rut.”

“You think Sy is really going to allow a stranger-”

“It’s not about what he will allow. It’s a bond with the land that was paid in blood before you even knew we existed. It is what it is.”

You laid Astrid down back in the bassinet. Ready for tonight's pack dinner you walked from the room you shared with Sy. You peaked back through the door at the young woman you had left your child in care of.

She sat in the chair near, cracked open her book and smiled back at you.

You buried the anxiety with a tight nod back. Already the house buzzed with high spirits, for the arrival, and for the eve of their time of bonding. The closer you came to the dining hall the louder it was and thicker the fragrance.

The two of them, different but the same, had the effect within you.

Entering the voices quieted. Some familiar faces looked at you, smiled, nodded as you passed down the center of the long tables toward the one sitting long ways. Your space was empty, a vast void between Sy and Geralt.

They stared at you. But your eyes fell to Sy only.

And so you sat between the two big men. Something about them, their demeanor toward one another -- something had changed. And it poured over during dinner. They no longer seemed like two strangers.

Geralt leaned back on his right hand, just behind you and whispered in your ear. “I hear we have some catching up to do.”

Sy glanced at you from the side of his eye before answering a member of his pack from across the tables.

And you said nothing in return, and you did not look at him either. You picked at the potato salad on the plate before you and forced yourself to listen to Sy’s words.

“I’ll be gentle.” Geralt whispered again, this time close enough to feel his breath brush against your ear. “Maybe...” he chuckled softly. “..if you’re good.”

You stared at Geralt from your place at the front of the pack on the balcony. He stood there observing the pack members, shoulders straight, chin level, and those yellow eyes stopping and studying ever so often. The weather fell, cold wind swept through the crowd of people staring at their Alpha. If not for the occasional blinks, and subtle tilt to his head, you would have thought Geralt was made of stone as Sy spoke.

“These are peculiar times,” said Sy, shifting his head and eyes from you to Geralt on his left. “But we aren’t strangers to oddities as such. As you all have heard, this man here is my brother.”

Indistinct mumbles descended through the fifteen or twenty men and a few women standing in front of you, Sy, and Geralt.

Sy held up his for silence. “Geralt Syverson was a child of bond made in blood. Our mother’s sorrow over the loss of our father was paid by Geralt’s exchange. It carried him off beyond the world we see now.”

Sy looked over at Geralt, who cut his eyes to him. “Carried him to distant lands where he was taken in by a woman. From what I gather his life has been hard.”

Your mate turned his focus back to the pack. “He was..changed by the people of the land.”

“Why is he back?” called a voice. “Why now?” said another.

Sy turned his head to the right and looked at you for a moment and then addressed the crowd. “The dark soul about a year back did it. The last one killed before that, was the night payment was due and my brother was taken.”

“Is he one of us?” asked a tall man, his black eyes swept from Geralt’s boots to silver hair before looking at Sy.

“‘Can’t be a Prime. There’s never been two.” he added.

Sy stared after the pack member, you could see it in his brows as he carefully considered his next words.

“There is now.”

The crowd mumbled some more, whispers, disgruntled and blameful rolled over them once again.

“There’s more on this land than we know.” Sy said loudly over them. “Shit we never seen is going on in the woods and my brother knows about it.”

Sy glanced over at Geralt who was already staring at him. “He will help. This is home now.”

Geralt nodded. “I kill monsters.”

His eyes drifted from Sy to you. “And as far as this being my home, it remains to be seen.”

“You will.” Sy clapped his big hand over Geralt’s leather clad shoulder and squeezed. “The air is changin’, you feel it?”

And as if speaking it into existence the wind shifted around them. The Alpha’s restless stances moved with one another feeling the resonance of their Alpha Prime’s words.

Geralt said nothing at first, his eyes traced back to the men. In the light of the balcony his skin shone slick with sweat. Sy grinned.

“Alright, ya’ll - meet up in a few hours.”

Sy dropped his hand, the other messaged your back and wrapped around you to pull you forward through the crowd along with Geralt.

“First order down this path is claiming.” said Sy quietly while walking through the row of doors back into the house. “They have it easier, like during the change-- like me because we have mates.”

Your stomach dropped.

Still sweating and rather perturbed Geralt grunted out unamused, “I glanced through the book Syverson.”

“Sy?” you rounded on him taking a few steps up the stairs. “This is ridiculous. I’m not-”

Sy suddenly took to the stairs, growling in his throat forcing whatever retort back down in your throat. He grabbed your arm and began to walk you up the stairs.

“Come with me brother,” called Sy over his shoulder. And when you glanced back at the silver haired man. He was staring at you, his breaths heavy and you recognized he could smell you just as you could scent him out.

You pulled against Sy, but it didn’t matter. He dragged you into their room. Gone was the bassinet, the child you shared with Sy and the room was lit by candle light and the night sky filtering through the large windows.

Geralt followed and closed the door behind him.

“Try it,” said Sy. And he repeated the growl in this throat. “Think of subduing without touching.” he added, and twisted you around to face Geralt.

“Don’t-” you said. “I never agreed to this. I-”

Geralt stepped forward, the rumble in his throat began low and hit you harder than Sy. A deep jolt in your pelvis and wetness seeped from between your folds. The sound of his call was raw, unwavering and only grew the longer he stared into your eyes.

“A curious creature,” his hand caressed your cheek, smearing the tear into your skin. “So lovely.”

Sy released you and stepped to the side. “She was made for us. In every way possible, brother.”

Geralt hummed, blinked slowly as your compliance melted into his psyche. He had been to the edges of the Continent, seen worlds broad and miniscule. But this, the sensation to ravish and take had never been stronger than in this moment. The urge to...plant, sow his legacy felt primal and ancient.

Sy breathed in deep, smelling the fragrance of your heat fill the room. “She’ll fight. But it only makes it sweeter.”

You fought against the rush. “You--don’t know what you're talking about Sy..please..” you strained to look away from Geralt.

“You know what the rut does to me baby..” whispered Sy. “You belong to us now.”

Sy walked from the room, leaving you to Geralt. And with him any hope that the man you loved, wouldn’t do this. But the moment the thick wooden door clicked shut Geralt tore at your t-shirt, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you against his chest.

His lips hovered over yours. Humming the Alpha chant he kept you there staring into your eyes.

“I have so much power over you.” his deep voice mollified your senses. “It was confusing at first, this world, how it worked. But I feel the desperate pull to be inside you, entirely. And I fear.”

Throat dry, you struggled to speak against the cloudy haze of hormones. “--fear?”

“That I wouldn’t be able to stop myself..” Geralt pressed his lips on top of yours. He split them with his tongue, plunging and licking your teeth and tongue.

You pushed against him, you tried to unglue yourself from the nature blossoming inside. It wasn’t nearly enough.

“The more you resist,” he groaned and kissed around your mouth slowly making his way back to your mouth. “The worse it is..”

Geralt fumbled with his armor, shedding it fast when he released you to sway where you stood. And before you knew it, his naked form stood in front of you, the muscles with dark swirls of hair coating his chest and down a wide trail over his abdomen toward his chubby, thick cock.

You lunged to the left, but you were too overcome by the nature of your place in this culture. Geralt grabbed you about the chest and waist and walked you toward the bed. Shaking your head, crying was met with his Alpha hum.

He tossed you on the bed back first, stripped your pants away and pulled off what was left of the tattered shirt. Head half empty, the other overpowered by lust, beckoned him to fulfil his duty.

And as he pounced on top, before you could stop yourself, your fingers traced over the mounds of his pecks, around his shoulders and pulled him toward you.

Geralt’s tight grin, his yellow eyes delighted in your sudden offering. But he grabbed your wrists anyway, held you down below him. And without much care, squeezed his way past your slippery folds.

His mass pounded your body into the bed. His slick, porcelain skin slides against the tops of your nipples, you swear the briny dripping from him is your ultimate undoing. He takes from you, but his thrust gives in its own ritualic way. There was no escaping the act of completion, and as the swollen feeling in your clit cascaded into bone aching bliss you fell into his command. Your Alpha Prime, the second man in your life.

He flipped you over, ass up and fell back into line with his rhythmic thrusting. It didn’t matter that he spread you further, had a handful of your face in his hand pressed against his jaw. He powered away inside of you, dropped his lips along your neck. And with his other hand, he held your head down, licked the stretch of moist skin there slowly.

“I claim you,” Geralt whispered and buried his cock deep. His teeth nipped the skin of your neck, your ass arched more, craving the pain of his depth. And his bite pierced at the same time he spilled inside of you. Your whimpering, the small, surrendering mewl flared his nostrils as he bit down harder.

The door slammed open smacking the wall, your eyes rolled in your skull before falling on the shape of Sy. He walked in and shoved it back shut.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned and began to peel off his clothes. “I can smell her down to the kitchen…”

Geralt tried to move inside of you. Another round of simpering whines called from your mouth. Sy rushed to the side of the bed where your head rested.

“Don’t,” Sy warned. “You’ll hurt her.” he said softly while stroking your hair.

“Lay there with her, hold her. She’ll bond with you until you can pull out again.” he instructed.

Sy sat on the floor, he laid his head not too far away from your own as Geralt wrapped his arms around your back to your chest. You stared back at him as he gazed at you achieving peace.

“Good girl.” he whispered.

Geralt turned his head back into your neck, humming low, and sniffing your hairline slowly it stimulated the vibration of love deep inside of you. The rush spread.

“Now you have two of us.” said Geralt.

“It’ll be my turn next,” added Sy. “We’ll take care of you, baby.”

The Next Morning

The brothers ran together last night. Their howls carried through the room and even invaded your sleep. Dreams of a black wolf, a white wolf, fog, wilderness kept you stuck to the bed most of the early morning.

The night sitter brought Astrid to the room as the sun rose. And you spent time with your daughter despite the ache in your body. When the voices in the cabin began to grow louder you knew they were home again.

You wondered if it was easier for Geralt, the change that night. Not that you saw it in person. But you couldn’t help but feel that your new mate somehow deserved a painless shift.

And when the sitter came bounding back in off the energy surging through the home. She scooped up Astrid.

“The Alpha Prime’s are asking about.” her bubbly voice softly rang.

Even if you did feel for Geralt, the night before was remembered. “I don’t care.” you said and got up from the bed.

“I’ll have some coffee up here.” you added and headed toward the bathroom.

You ignored the smell of food wafting into the bedroom after the shower. Your eyes landed on a tray on the end of the bed. A platter of toast, fruit and thermos of coffee waited for you.

And so did two tall, disgruntled men.

“Why didn’t you come down?” asked Sy, pushing away from the closed door.

Geralt slowly walked toward the bed, but turned his back to you and Sy by looking out the window.

You glared at Sy. “You--neither of you gets to decide -”

“Ah but we do.” Geralt butted in, hands clasped behind him he turned from the window. “The moment you felt me enter your slippery cunt you belonged to the both of us.”

You look to Sy for support but he just stared back.

“From what I’ve learned you have no choice but to submit.” Geralt glanced across the room for affirmation, Sy simply nodded. “Therefore, you will learn to love it.”

You started to snap back, yell, spit anything but a low growl began from Geralt that stopped you in your tracks. “I don’t want to hurt my...mate.”

Geralt and Sy walked toward you, the silver haired at the left, the bushy faced man at the right. Sy put his hands on his hips and grinned kindly back at you.

“We want you happy, dove.” Geralt carcasses your face, he dipped in and began to sniff your cheek, down your neck. “God, do you smell that?” he asked Sy.

Sy stepped over, you turned your watery eyes to him. He was softer with his eyes, gazing at you with love. Geralt held the back of your head allowing Sy to lean in toward the pulse point on your neck and ran his nose across your skin.

“It’s sweet. Like honey, or some wild flower but deeper, yes?” he asked Sy.

He knew that smell alright, the deep resonant fragrance coated the back of this throat. It flipped a switch in the back of his mind as he breathed in deep. He wouldn’t have to mate to procreate, not for a few months.

“She’s pregnant. That’s the smell..and it smells like she has both of us in there.”

....to be continued...

#Black reader #black female reader #x black!reader #dark!syverson #dark!geralt #dark!syverson x black reader #dark!geralt x black reader

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prince-liest · 3 months ago

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your orchids are so cool! can we see the entire collection?

I will ABSOLUTELY show more photos of my current hyperfixation, ehehehe, thank you so much! <3 I've moved the cattleya to my eastern windowsill and my dendrobium nobile is chilling in the place of honor on the kitchen counter where my biggest bloomer at any given point in time goes, and one of my violets is also in my bedroom for some pizzazz, but the rest of the orchids and violets/streps are on this plant shelf!

She's a bit tall, so I've added the dendrobium nobile (Angel Moon 'Love Letter,' lovely but mild fragrance!) side by side to avoid stretching the dash too much, haha. I have it lit with Barrina LED lights on timers, and they have a super cozy glow, don't let my camera auto-editing the lighting to be so stark fool you.

The top row is hard to get a good zoomed out pic of because the Oncostele Red Silk 'HOF' flower spike is so damn tall, so I've cut it out of the pic since it's not blooming yet - but soon! This is where I try to keep all my currently-blooming flowers, and the oncidium takes up a ton of space at the moment... and as you may be able to see, the yellow and harlequin phalaenopsis are soon to be losing their blooms! They're both growing new leaves and roots at the moment, and the yellow phal actually has been in bloom on the same spikes for 9 months straight, which is absolutely insane. They're both no ID grocery store plants, which tend to be bred for really prolific blooms!

The second row is currently housing my blooming violet and strep, as well as my two smaller non-blooming streps. The bottom left one is actually a mini, so it will be staying in that small pot forever! One of the huge pros of violets for me is that they don't really exceed a 4" flower pot size ever, no matter if you've had them ten months or ten years.

The mini strep is Fernwood's Silhouette, the larger one is DS Riushele (google this one, the blooms are a deep purple and super frilly!), the violet is Frosty Cherry, and the far right strep is Bristol's Mascara!

The bottom row is where I try to keep my currently non-blooming orchids, but the little rescue I found at the store with most of the flower spike snapped off and one measly (and super pretty) flower left made it down there as well for lack of space, haha.

The tallest plant here is a Dancing Lady oncidium orchid that has an amazing and strong fragrance. It used to be in my kitchen and filled the whole kitchen area with its scent in the mornings! The smallest orchid in the clear pot is actually one I kidnapped (with permission) from my program director's office to rehab it, lol. I'll be giving it back once it puts out another flower spike. The big pot on the bottom right has a pure white phalaenopsis that's currently growing a new flower spike for the third time in my care, and it's a flower that my mom gave me, so it holds a special place in my heart!

Then the very top left tiny phalaenopsis orchid is just a little purple grocery store mini that had almost no roots left for a long time. It's flowered twice in my care before I messed up its roots trying to separate it from being double-potted, so I'm very proud that it's now growing a new leaf. And lastly the two violets are Cajun's Queen's Lace (left) and PT Wild Plum (right, post plant surgery).

And that's the orchids and violets! :D I actually have, uh. Checks watch. 41 plants including hoyas, nerve plants, a fiddle leaf fig, and a pothos, not to mention the aquarium garden and the edible patio plants, so this isn't actually all of them, but the rest are elsewhere in the house and aside from the ones I mentioned in the first paragraph aren't in the orchid/violet category!

#ask #personal #Anonymous #dear diary #plantblogging #long post #orchids #african violets #streptocarpus #I! Love!! Plants!!!!#I spent many years for some reason thinking flowers were super hard and I could never grow one or get it to reflower #so now I think I'm compensating in the other direction LOL #despite the number of them they're honestly not a very high maintenance hobby which is why I feel it's great for residency #I pay them more attention than I strictly need to tbh #my outside plants are more stressful #I miss watering for more than one day and they WILL fry #and I had to murder another fucking grasshopper today because those bitches love to go ham on my basil #GO AWAY THAT'S FOR ME TO EAT NOT YOU #luckily it didn't have wings yet and faced the wrath of my broom #(ps. sorry to my neighbors for the muffled terrified swearing when it jumped in my direction)

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youremyheaven · 7 months ago

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I don’t think all venusians are bad but I also had a share of bad experiences with them. I don’t know if I should drag the women or the men first. I’d talk about the women first because they’re in my family and it’s a more neutral point of view than hate or a one time experience. My purva ashada stellium grandmother used to starve her children too and is extremely cheap. Tbh I don’t think she has a bad relationship with her daughters. She seems to get along with them pretty well. However my mom who’s purva phalguni moon has similar behavior as the previous ano. She’s very jealous and envious of other women constantly comparing herself to other women and she needs to be the “best looking” among others. Otherwise she lose her mind. She’s very image conscious and she’s a complete different person with strangers or my friends. She wants to be seen as the cool mom. She also assumes every single man she interacts with has some sort of romantic interest in her. She also says phrases like “you’ll never be as attractive as used to be” like even if It was true and I was a walking troll she shouldn’t be saying this to her daughter ? I also find it weird how every single Venusian woman I talk to is extremely fake ? Like they’re obsessed with status and want to be seen as higher or richer than what they actually are. They love to see people beneath them. They strive to be the best in that way. They’re very superficial and they would definitely befriend someone or be around someone for the aesthetic or for what they could get from them. They would take shamelessly from people without giving back and when you called them out they be like “I didn’t ask you to” when they truly did pressure you into it. I think for men, most Venusian men I met, they would be very polite, kind helpful and try to please me as much as possible. Like they would get interested in my hobbies and try to get close to me with some hidden intention or purpose to it. When I don’t get fooled by their act, it’s almost as their mask drops and I see another version of them that is much cruel and mean ? It’s like they want to “punish” you. They would paint themselves as the victim because you didn’t give them what they wanted or desired from you. Whatever that is. They would tarnish your reputation or come for you in settings. Now, I don’t think I had many Venusian friends (only 2 ) that are woman but they both would lie and act as if they’re “rich” even if they’re not and I already know they’re not and I don’t even care because I never bring such things up.

💀💀💀u have described so many people i know, its crazyyy,, one girl i went to college with who had Saturn in Bharani atmakaraka was just like u described. she was upper middle class at best but she wanted to be seen as rich so bad?? she'd insert random details to make herself sound 🤑🤑she spoke about how much she spent on clothes even tho she always wore the same stuff on repetition?? (im not being a hater, her comments always just made no sense??) she'd talk about how her family only fed their dog specially bought meat and it was just ??? i hated the way she spoke about money and same goes for another Venusian girlie i know, she wont shut up about money and always exaggerates for good effect?? its so cringe to me ngl. theyre also the type of people who want to put others down to feel better about themselves. I think Venusians in general don't like it when someone tries to imply that they're on the same "level" so they always put others down to establish superiority. every Venusian woman I know is arrogant and conceited in some ways. one time the atmakaraka chick told me that her dad bought her a new car and i was like ok good for you? and she always spoke about how its her car when it was actually just a new car for the fam after they disposed off the old one?? lol?

one time my friends and i were eating out and a really cute kid (5-6 yr old girl) and her mom came in, all my friends said that the kid resembled me quite a bit and the Bharani ak girl said "yeah she's chubby like you" 🤡🤡🤡first of all the kid wasn't "chubby" by a long shot, and even if she was who tf says that about a 5yr old??? she just wanted to establish dominance? and did not like the fact that others thought we resembled each other lmao?? what a complete asshole, imagine insulting a literal child and your friend?? Venusian women do not like it when other women seem to have the upper hand in any way. They are not girls girls, i have said this before and i'll say it again Venusians are the OG "im not like other girls" girl.

im so sorry you went through all that anon. i wish you healing and peace<3

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lovelyjuju · 6 hours ago

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𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 - 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢

werewolf!taki x fem!reader

genre: supernatural au, love at first sight (for taki), strangers to ??, some fluff & some angst

warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, contains vampires, switches between reader's pov and taki's pov sometimes

word count: 5.1k

a/n: this is very inspired by &team's webtoon, because this was the easiest way for me to write it. i've never written "supernatural" before and i think it really shows, i honestly don't like how this turned out lol

this was requested here, tysm for your request, anon! <3

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

the cool night wind was blowing against your cheeks, causing you to shiver slightly, as you pushed your hands even further inside the pockets of your coat. your steps felt heavier than usual, given the small layer of snow that covered the forest ground.

you mentally cursed your brother for refusing to leave from that goddamned party, making a fuss over it that ended in you leaving on your own before the two of you made fools of yourselves in front of the other people. your own hometown wasn't far, but there were only two ways to reach it: the barely lit highway, where walking would equal signing a death contract, or through the forest that seperated the two towns.

you weren't scared in particular, knowing the paths like the back of your hand from the countless of hours you'd spent in the woods during your childhood, playing catch or hide and seek with your brother, or climbing the trees to heights that would have sent your parents into a coma if they'd known. yet, despite the familiarity of your surroundings and the full moon that illuminated them more than any other night would have, there was just something about wandering alone through a forest at night that felt unsettling.

but you'd be home soon, only a few more steps until–

you stopped, squinting your eyes slightly, not quite sure where the dark spots in front of your feet were coming from. your gaze scanned the ground until it fell on a trace of more marks. you took out your phone and opened the flashlight, only able to catch a glimpse of their deep red colour before the light died down again.

your phone running out of battery seemed like a smaller problem, compared to the realization that hit you when your mind started racing until it had made sense of the red stains. they were drops. blood.

you tried to keep your breath steady, although your heart doubled its pace, at least. it was no secret that wolves roamed the forest, and from what you'd heard all your life, they were ruthless creatures – always poised to strike, always ready to take down their prey. but what if, this time, their victim hadn’t been an animal but a person? what if someone was lying just a few feet away, possibly still breathing, possibly in need?

you shouldn’t. not when you were alone. not when you had no way to call for help, too far from either town divided by the forest for potential cries to reach anyone. but against your better judgement, you followed the trail of blood, holding your breath and tightening your grip around your dead phone.

the further you walked, the bigger the stains became. your eyes were fixated on the floor, eagerly following the path, until a faint sound yanked your head up. it had sounded almost like... a whimper? your feet picked up the pace, almost running, hearing the same sound becoming clearer, closer, until you finally found the source of it.

your eyes widened again, an uncomfortable shiver running down your spine. you felt your stomach sink, and your insides felt like they'd turned upside down.

this couldn't be possible. you could have almost sworn your mind had played a trick on you – that there was no way that a wolf was not the perpetrator, but the victim of an attack – had it not been for another whimper that came from the wounded animal in front of you.

it sounded almost desperate, like a futile cry for help, and for some reason, it tugged at your heart. you hadn't grown up to feel sympathy for wolves, but you weren't heartless either. yet, you hesitated. your parents had warned you time and again about wolves.

almost out of reflex, you took a step back, flinching at the sound of wood cracking underneath your boot. fuck. you held your breath as the animal in front of you lifted its head just slightly, turned it in your direction, and looked you right in the eye. another cold shiver ran down your spine and you stood rooted in place although all your instincts told you to run away. you'd never be able to outrun a wolf, but you had a chance with a wounded one, no?

you mentally prepared yourself for the worst, yet, you didn't move. had you not been shaken with fear, it might have been almost comical how paradoxically beatiful the wolf's amber eyes looked under the moonlight. they were anything but threatening; instead, they held a sense of vulnerability, despair – and something else you couldn’t quite identify. fear, maybe.

without another thought, you took a few steps toward the animal. at first, it seemed to try to get up and move away, but it was too weak to manage. standing directly in front of it, you could finally see the source of the blood: a large wound on its side, still bleeding slightly.

after a brief hesitation, you slipped off your scarf and pressed it against the wound, gently at first, then with more pressure. you knew it was irrational, dangerous – maybe even downright stupid. but something about the creature before you broke your heart, and you realized you had no other way to help. running back to either town wasn’t an option; just picturing the townspeople’s faces if you asked them to help a wounded wolf was enough to tell you it was useless.

taki's pov: the sound of wood cracking caused taki to open his eyes. had he already found him? or had nicholas and euijoo heard his pathetic attempts to call for them? no – the strong scent of his blood would give him away before any howls would even leave his throat. when he caught sight of you, the moonlight illuminating your soft features beatifully, reflecting almost magically in your slightly widened eyes, the entire world seemed to shift. in an instant, his breath caught, his heart quickened, and a warmth spread through him despite the icy cold of the blood-stained snow underneath him. it felt like destiny had taken his hand, leading him to a place he'd always been meant to find. of course, he thought. the moon was full tonight. taki should have felt terrified. he knew the perception humans had on wolves. giri had always taught him to be careful – to stay away. he'd expected you to run away, not to approach him. certainly not to help him. he had tried to run away, but his body didn't allow him to even stand up yet. he knew he'd heal soon, but the cut was still too deep. when he looked at you, he saw the fear. you were scared, yet you took off your scarf, even with almost no hesitation at all. your hands were shaking despite the warm coat you were wearing, as you softly pressed the scarf to his wound. he hated that his mere existence scared you, but could he blame you? you'd probably grown up around here – that was the only explanation as to why you were here at this hour, alone, on top of that. growing up in the towns around the forest meant growing up to fear, to hate, wolves. he felt the tremble in your hands ease as he stayed still. he even stopped calling for the others, willing to do anything not to scare you more. but the silence only lasted for what felt like the blink of an eye. he sensed the smell even before the soft rustling of the nearby bushes made you flinch. he had come back – probably to finish what he'd started.

the rustling of the bushes drew your attention away from the wounded animal. a chill prickled down your spine as you remembered – something had caused that deep cut in the first place. and if that something could injure a creature this powerful, what might it do to a human?

you scanned your surroundings. at first, you thought his pack might have found him, but the shadow that the moonlight casted over the snow looked suspiciously human.

the shadow shifted until the man stepped into view. the animal beside you stirred, rising quickly despite its bleeding wound. you couldn’t quite read its expression, but the abrupt movement held a hint of alarm – as if the man himself were responsible for the injury. but that couldn't be. no human could inflict such a deep wound with bare hands, and he carried no visible weapon.

or had you missed something?

your gaze scanned over him once more, and in an instant, your blood ran cold.

a trickle of red dripped from the corner of his mouth, sliding down his chin.

it felt as though the air had been knocked from your lungs as you watched him lick his lips. a sharp fang glinted back at you.

what in the world?

you froze, caught between shock and disbelief. vampires? you had never believed in neither them, nor the tails that had been passed down through generations in your town. this had to be a dream.

there was no time to decide whether to stay shielded behind the wolf, who had somehow pushed itself in front of you, almost protectively – or to bolt.

the man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight with an unsettling intensity. the wolf beside you let out a low growl, a sound that seemed torn between fear and defiance. you could almost feel its tension, muscles coiled and ready, yet it stayed rooted to your side as though bound to protect you, even in its weakened state.

you stood there, frozen, your mind reeling with shock and fear, but you knew the wolf wouldn't be able to fight alone. and for some reason, you refused to run off while you still could.

you didn't know what to do, just that you had to do something. your mind was racing, yet there was no time to think.

with a snarl, the wolf lunged at the vampire, managing to swipe its claws across the man's cheek. he hissed, stumbling back, crimson trickling from the fresh gash. in that split second, you seized the chance, grabbing hold of the animal's fur and half-dragging, half-guiding it backward.

the cave, you thought. it had taken you almost a year of playing hide and seek with your brother to find it, but from then on, you'd always hidden there and he'd never found you. you knew how to find it by heart.

“this way,” you whispered, although you knew the animal wouldn't understand you. you broke into a mixture of stumbling, running, and darting through the underbrush. every few steps, the wolf glanced back, teeth bared, ready to fend off your pursuer, but each time you pulled it along, urging to keep moving.

“just a bit further, ” you murmured, more to yourself than to the wolf. its breathing was labored, but it pressed on, muscles taut as it maneuvered alongside you. behind, the vampire’s movements grew louder, branches snapping and snow crunching underfoot.

you finally reach the spot, the small entrance partially hidden by bare trees. you pushed the animal forward, urging it through the entrance before ducking in after, crouching low and pulling a few branches over the entrance as quietly as you could manage.

you sat there in silence, the only sounds your ragged breathing. you could feel the animal trembling against your own shaking body, its breaths shallow and quick. without thinking, you reached out, gently placing a hand on its side and feeling the damp warmth of its blood through its fur.

your scarf must have fallen off somewhere and you were just praying it didn't give away your location anyhow. with that thought, the reality of your escape hit you like a wave – you had only barely gotten away.

a few deep breaths later, exhaustion began to settle in. you fought to stay awake, determined not to give in – you couldn’t afford to fall asleep out here in the woods during winter, not with a wolf at your side and a creature, once only a tale, lurking somewhere nearby.

but as the cold seeped beneath your coat, despite the cave offering shelter from the stronger winds outside, your eyes fluttered shut repeatedly, until exhaustion finally took over and sleep gently pulled you in.

a faint howl stirred you from sleep. you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the haze, and pulled your legs closer to your chest, trying to warm your body that felt frozen to the core.

flashbacks from the night before crashed over you as another howl rang out – closer and louder than the first. this time, it came from right beside you, where the wolf you’d fled with only hours ago lay in the same spot. its wound had dried, looking far less severe than before.

another distant howl called out, answered quickly by the one next to you. they were calling each other. you needed to leave. this wolf had been too weak to attack, but who knew what a whole pack might do?

just as you began to move, the branches you’d used to cover the entrance shifted, and three other wolves stepped into view – each larger than the one beside you.

fuck.

the closer they came, the more you tried to edge away, but they halted when they reached the injured one, nudging it to its feet. with a last, lingering glance in your direction, the four of them turned and disappeared, leaving you alone, trembling – not only from the cold but from the shock and confusion of everything that had happened in the past hours.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

even days later, you could still not comprehend any of that night's happenings. you were dying to talk to someone, but who would believe you? you’d run off with a wolf who’d saved you from a vampire? it sounded like the textbook definition of insanity.

realizing you’d have to handle this on your own, you decided the best course was to forget about it entirely. so, you turned to the one distraction sure to keep your mind off things – working extra hours at your barista job, which you hated enough to guarantee you’d be thinking about anything other than that bizarre encounter.

you had lost count of how many times you'd greeted the familiar customers with a kind "the usual?" or how many times you'd engaged in the same small-talk, when customers finally stopped coming in for a while. you quickly left your spot behind the counter to tidy and wipe the tables, when the ring on top of the door signaled another customer.

"i'll be there in a second," you said without looking up from the table you were just cleaning. you quickly rushed back to the counter, placed the cups you had collected to the side and looked up with the usual, practiced smile.

"hi, sorry, i'm–" you stopped, eyeing the four unfamiliar guys in front of you for a second, before snapping back to reality, "i'm all yours now."

you took their orders, doing your best to cover up your earlier slip. it wasn’t common for out-of-towners to show up here, and you’d never seen any of these guys around before.

your breath caught when you looked at the last one. his amber eyes seemed so familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you’d seen them. you furrowed your brows, mind racing until it landed on the pair of eyes that had met yours in the forest just days ago. you quickly shook your head, willing away the memory of the wolf. you could’ve sworn their eyes had the exact same spark, but the ones in front of you clearly belonged to a human.

yet, you couldn't tear your eyes away from his. you didn't know how much time had passed when the gentle clearing of his throat snapped you out of your thoughts.

"i– sorry, what was that?" you awkwardly asked for his order again, gesturing them to wait at a nearby table until their drinks were ready.

as they left the counter, you exhaled sharply, forcing yourself not to glance back at the four of them. you really needed to forget this whole thing before your mind started playing even more tricks on you.

yet, you couldn't help but glance at the amber-eyed boy while you prepared their drinks – and each time you turned to look at him, you found his eyes already on you before he quickly looked the other way.

you placed their mugs on the tray once they were ready and took a deep breath before heading to their table. you didn’t even know why your hands were shaking just a little, but you cursed yourself for struggling to balance the tray – even after all the time you’d spent working here.

taki's pov: when you reached their table and set their drinks down, taki really tried to not look at you another time, but he just couldn't help it. your eyes caught his yet another time and, god, it was so hard to look away. time seemed to slow down, the world around him seemed to come to a halt – until he felt euijoo's foot gently kicking against his knee, causing him to flinch and tear his eyes away from yours.

he forced himself to keep his eyes on his mug when you walked away after almost whispering a silent 'enjoy'.

when you were out of earshot, euijoo shot taki a stern look. "stop being weird, taki. i know she’s the–"

"not now, euijoo," giri interrupted, his tone sharp and leaving no room for argument. he glanced around to make sure no one had overheard even a fragment of their conversation.

the table fell silent except for the soft clinking of mugs being lifted and set down, and taki kept his eyes fixed on the tabletop. he knew he couldn’t take any risks, especially after you’d looked at him like you almost recognized him – but there was no real way you’d understand.

once they left the café, following giri through the forest to a quiet hill they always went to when they needed to talk in peace, taki felt three pairs of eyes on him. just as he was about to speak, giri cut him off. "you can’t go back there, taki, do you understand?"

when taki stayed silent, eyes on the ground, nicholas spoke up.

"look, i know she helped you and all, but it’s too risky – for us and for her. you’ll forget about it, and she will too, eventually."

taki bit his lip, knowing nicholas was wrong but unwilling to argue.

"he won’t forget," giri corrected. euijoo and nicholas shot him puzzled looks. "it was a full moon when they met," he added.

he didn’t need to explain for them to understand, didn’t need to say the words we fall in love with the first person we see on a full moon night, bound to love them for the rest of our lives.

giri turned to taki again, his voice hardening. "can i trust you that you won’t go back? you won’t search for her, and you won’t forget what’s at stake if you do." giri's eyes narrowed, a rare flicker of fear surfacing. "if you care for her, you’ll stay away – for her sake as much as ours."

taki gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat at giri's words, but he nodded his head, unable to protest.

yet despite everything, taki found himself drawn back to the café. no amount of warnings from giri or silent judgment from nicholas could seem to break the pull he felt. it had only been days since he’d seen you in the forest, days that felt like eternities. each time he left the woods, he told himself it would be the last. yet he would find himself standing outside, hesitant and hopeful.

it became a habit. once, twice, then almost daily, he’d come to the café, knowing he risked too much and cared too little. at first, he stood in distance, waiting to catch just a glimpse of you when you closed the store at night. then, he found excuses to be away during the day, finally working up the courage to not just watch from afar. he tried to be discreet, ordering something small and sipping slowly to avoid suspicion, but it quickly became clear that something about his presence unsettled you too. still, he couldn’t resist.

your face would light up each time you caught him glancing your way, and his cautious heart felt its walls crumble each time you smiled. each day, he grew a little bolder, staying a little longer, exchanging a few more words, as if to anchor himself to the warmth of your world.

"back again?" you asked one day, your eyes warm but playful as you set down a cup of tea.

taki managed a half-smile, shrugging in what he hoped was a casual manner. "guess the coffee's better here than anywhere else," he joked.

"or maybe you just like the company," you teased, daring him with a soft smile. your eyes sparkled with something curious, something that made his heart race, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“maybe,” he said, meeting your gaze head-on for once, feeling his pulse quicken at the sight of your grin.

soon, your moments grew longer, richer, and neither of you made any real effort to hide how much you enjoyed each other’s company. you’d sit across from him on your breaks, filling the quiet with stories about your hometown and the strange little quirks of the café. he found himself smiling more, laughing at your jokes, losing track of time as you two talked about everything and nothing at all.

"it’s strange," you admitted one day, swirling your coffee and glancing at him over the rim of your cup. "it feels like i’ve known you forever.”

taki felt his heart skip, and he glanced down at his own mug, gripping it tightly. "i know what you mean," he murmured, unable to look at you without risking giving away everything he felt.

he felt like he was walking on thin ice, balancing between the safety of his world and the irresistible warmth of yours. the weight of giri’s warning hung heavy on his shoulders, yet the longer he spent with you, the more he felt pulled towards you.

as the days passed, you found yourself looking forward to taki’s visits more than you cared to admit. something about him – his quietness, the mystery in his eyes, the way he seemed a little more at ease with each visit – felt like an invitation you couldn’t resist accepting.

you'd steal glances at him whenever you thought he wasn’t looking, catching the subtle softness in his expression as he watched you move around the café. the comfort in his gaze had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room, as if his whole world condensed in the moments you shared over coffee and quiet conversation.

sometimes, you’d find yourself sharing things you'd never shared with anyone else – except for what had happened that one night, but that had by now moved to the back of your mind. taki listened as if each word you spoke were precious, his eyes brightening when you laughed, his face softening when you spoke of something that saddened you. he gave you the gift of being truly seen, of feeling understood in a way that felt as natural as breathing.

but soon, something else crept in – a feeling you couldn’t quite name. at first, it was subtle, barely more than an odd sense of being watched whenever you’d lock up the café at night or turn a corner in town. you’d catch a glimpse of a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, only to turn and find nothing. your stomach would twist, a chill prickling your skin, but you’d shrug it off as your nerves.

then, one night as you closed up, you caught sight of a figure across the street, half-hidden in the shadows. they seemed to be watching, their stillness almost unnatural. your heart thundered in your chest, your instincts screaming to turn away, but your feet stayed rooted to the spot, your gaze locked onto the figure’s unmoving form. you waited, holding your breath, until the streetlight flickered and the figure vanished into the darkness.

the next day, you finally shared your unease with taki, hoping he might reassure you. but instead, a shadow crossed his face, his jaw tightening as he listened. he said little, just that he’d “keep an eye out,” though you noticed the tension that now lingered in his shoulders, the way his gaze darted over his shoulder whenever he left.

it didn’t take long for you to put the pieces together – the unease you felt, the strangers who seemed to lurk in the periphery of your vision, and taki’s quiet, watchful presence. you didn’t know what he was hiding, but you sensed the fear he tried to conceal, the way his gaze softened with regret whenever he looked at you.

"let me walk you home," he offered the next night after you closed the café. normally, you would have declined, but you had to admit there was a certain comfort in not being alone.

as soon as you stepped outside, that familiar unease crept in, your fingers trembling slightly as you locked the door and slipped the keys into your bag.

taki's hand, slightly larger than yours, reached over, giving yours a gentle squeeze – a wordless reassurance – before letting go.

a cold breeze cut through you, and you instinctively turned toward taki, who had gone still, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

before you could speak, your breath caught as you noticed the familiar, imposing silhouette just a few feet away.

taki didn’t need to look back to know. the scent alone was enough. he turned, stepping protectively in front of you, his entire posture tense.

your knees wobbled as the figure approached, his movements eerily swift. then you saw them – red eyes. fangs. you felt like you’d been flung back in time, to that night in the woods, the wolf between you and the vampire.

"taki," you whispered, unsure of what to say. but taki didn’t break his gaze from the figure in front of him.

"close your eyes," he commanded, his voice strained, urgent. he glanced back at you for a split second, his amber eyes meeting yours. "trust me. just…close your eyes for a moment," he urged, trying to sound calm despite the tension.

you hesitated, but complied, closing your eyes. when you heard a sharp howl echo through the night, you opened them – and found taki gone.

it felt like a sick twist of fate, like déjà vu, as the same wolf from the woods now stood before you. the realization hit you with full force when it turned and you saw those same amber eyes that had just met yours moments before.

could it be that…

you didn’t have time to finish the thought, when three more wolves burst from the shadows. you were sure you recognized these wolves from that other night in the woods. your mind started racing. if there was a chance that the wolf in front of you was really taki, then... these three would be the guys you'd first seen him at the café with?

your heart raced as you watched them work together, swift and lethal. flashes of fur, the gleam of teeth, and the muted growls filled the air as they closed in, forcing the vampire back until it disappeared into the shadows.

you stood there, frozen, heart pounding, trying to process what you had just seen. your gaze dropped to the ground, unfocused, as your mind raced to piece everything together.

you flinched when you felt a sudden, yet soft touch on your arm.

you hadn’t even noticed that that the wolves were gone. that taki stood close beside you again, a few scratches across his face. you looked up, your breath catching as your eyes met his – those same amber eyes you’d seen so many times before, only now, there was no doubt.

you could only stare at him, your mind reeling. you remembered that night in the snow, the warmth of his eyes when he’d looked at you. you'd had no idea, but somehow, part of you had always known.

"i’m the one you saved, y/n," he said softly, as if to reassure your thoughts. his voice was warm, familiar.

you searched his gaze. “you’re...a werewolf? so they really do exist,” you managed, still trying to wrap your head around it all. there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, but then his expression grew serious.

“giri said it’d be best if i kept my distance. safer for you,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “but i couldn’t...stay away.” he paused, his gaze dropping. “i’m so sorry i got you involved in all of this." his voice trailed off towards the end.

for a moment, you just looked at him, letting his words sink in. his gaze was steady, though there was a flicker of vulnerability there that made your chest ache.

“taki,” you said softly, stepping closer. “i’m glad you didn’t stay away.” he looked up at you, a hint of surprise crossing his face. “i mean it. i love spending time with you, i told you things i've never told anyone else, i feel safe when i’m with you. even after – especially after tonight.”

a gentle smile softened his expression, the tension leaving his shoulders. “then i promise,” he murmured, his voice warm, “i’ll always protect you.”

you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling of quiet assurance that you hadn’t realized you’d been looking for. you nodded, smiling back at him.

the night air felt a little warmer with him beside you, and as he reached for your hand, you let him take it, feeling the comforting weight of his touch.

“come on,” he said, his voice lighter now. “let me walk you home for real now.”

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