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kakushino · 9 months ago

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hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3

Almost

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.

Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k

Masterlist

AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me

Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.

No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.

You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.

“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.

Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”

You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”

You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.

He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”

Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.

Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“

"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.

A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”

You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.

Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.

You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.

It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.

He had really said all that.

And you left.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.

There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.

‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.

He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.

He felt nothing.

He was worth nothing.

Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?

A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.

After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.

One hour. Two hours.

Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.

The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.

Were you even here?

The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.

“Love?”

Nothing.

“I’m coming in.”

He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.

Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.

Where were you?

He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.

Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.

She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”

“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?

“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“

He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?

“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”

She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”

It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.

He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.

Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?

Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.

Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.

Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.

He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.

Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.

His baby.

He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.

Please, let me be in time.

Then he saw you.

The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.

You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.

Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”

“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”

You were confused, “Get rid of what?”

His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.

Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship.

Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.

But that could wait.

“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”

His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”

His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.

Did that make you a bad person?

“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.

“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.

Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.

Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.

“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Thanks for reading! Reblog or comment if you liked it :3

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

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hugemilkshake · 1 month ago

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Yan Shadow milk x Gender neutral reader? (Oneshot)

Enjoy the milkshake! I brainstormed this for a while but I came up with an idea, I would wait for the smilk update but I’m not that patient

Idk if this reads off as yandere sooooo-

Just a little TLC

-Romantic or Platonic-

!TW! Under the cut will be themes like obsessivness, harming another and trying to change someone’s identity ig?

Boring. That’s the best way Shadow Milk could describe Pure Vanillas life. He’s been watching the fool for years now and while it’s fun to see his guilt and stuff but something interesting needed to happen!

That’s when Pure Vanilla met you.

At first you weren’t anything special, just some cookie who was dragged to Pure Vanillas Kingdom by the brave kid. Honestly you were quite boring.

But that aided in your appeal! You were so basic that Shadow Milk started to feel an… itch. An itch to make you interesting, an itch to turn you into something entertaining!

The thought of you being something more consumed his thoughts, you looked nice, but not unique enough. You’re personality was fun, but not fun enough!

You needed a little TLC, and that was fine! He was going to help you stand out and be the most interesting and amazing cookie to exist!

He’d make sure of it.

—————————————

You put your hand on Pure Vanillas shoulder in a panic, he wasn’t moving, he was just blankly staring at the tree. The seal had been broken and there was a chill in the air. But then… it felt like the chill was in your dough. The coldness of your dough and others checking on Pure Vanilla broke him from chance.

Everyone was tense, this Shadow Milk fella was ominous. You felt his gaze on you. It was locked onto you. You shifted around uncomfortably, the cookies around you noticed this. Elder Faerie stepped infront of you, he seemed determined yet a little part of him was anxious… I wonder why…

“Ah this is quite the audience! I will need a volunteer for my show stopping performance though! Now who to choose..” Shadow Milk looked at everyone like he was going to pluck someone away for his “performance”

There was a strong pause before you felt your limbs being pulled up slightly, before you felt yourself get jerked up harshly.

“Y/N COOKIE!” As strings dig into your skin, Elder Faerie jumped up to try and grab your hand, but you slipped away from him like sand

“Now you look like you’d be a good puppet! Although… you need some extra flair, but don’t worry about that! I’ll fix your right up so you’ll be perfect!”

You felt a chil go up your spine as a darkness crept into your mind. Your vision also blanked out.

….

…

You woke up with concerned eyes on you, and a burning sensation in your arms. Pure Vanilla was looking over your arms. “What… happened…?” You questioned, there was a silence, no one was expecting you to not remember what’s happened, but Strawberry Cookie spoke up

“You became one of Shadow Milks Puppets… I don’t think things went well for you..” she gestured to your arms. You looked down and saw that your arms were cut up, presumably from those strings from earlier

You saw that you were a mess, your hair felt messy and not to mention that some of your clothes had been switched to more of a jester like outfit.

“What about Elder Faerie…?” Everyone was quiet. You could feel your heart sink. He was gone. But no one wanted to break the news… you felt tears starting to prick at your eyes.

You were sacred. You were confused. You wanted to go home, but with the crashed airship…

Home wasn’t an option.

—————————————

Finally. You were in Shadow Milks grasp, you can finally become the star of the show that you were meant to be! Oh all the ideas that he had for you!

You were going to be perfect!

But… there was an unexpected issue…

You were too unique.

Everything about you was boring yet not, no cookie looked like you, it was hard to decide what to change about you because you were so perfect yet imperfect!

It irritated him.

Shadow Milk had been planning on this for months! And now that your here he can’t bring himself to do ANYTHING

He tried changing your outfit and hair style, HELL he even tried making you act out a scene of you laughing at the fools trying to seal him away and save you but it felt wrong. It frustrated him.

When those pesky cookies got closer to him it enraged him more. Everything was going wrong. He even threw you around a couple of times, your arms had jam on them and Shadow Milk swore he felt some form of remorse after it but it couldn’t compare to is anger.

When you left his grasp it felt like a relief yet it felt painful. Seeing Pure Vanilla heal you made his jam boil.

But WHY?

WHATS SO SPECIAL ABOUT YOU?

One way or another… Shadow Milk was going to find out….

#crk #cookie run #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie #yandere crk

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crepezinhos · 2 months ago

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Hii! Could I please request yan! Diluc and yan! Xiao with a darling on hunger strike?(basically she refuses to eat unless freed)

Ty 4 reading my request!

Starving For Love

(REQUEST #9) POV: At the end of the day, despite all their twisted actions, words, and thoughts, you know they do it just because of the weird kind of love they feel for you. They’re cautious about everything that happens to you, to a point where you can’t have the freedom to hang out wherever you want. So why not threaten them with something they can’t control?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an angsty SFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— AU is: Modern for both characters

— Abusive!Yandere!Xiao + Diluc

— Contains violent themes such as: starvation, self-harm, physical harming/abuse, forced marriage, imprisonmen, mentions of SA and lots of bad words

Xiao: Being on His Shoes

Xiao was a man that went through a lot. He was abandoned by his parents in the streets, which forced to learn how to survive as a homeless, hungry kid, barely making it through every day. Then, he was recruited by a man that basically enslaved him under a manipulative contract in exchange for a stable home, food and water. Even when he was saved by Zhongli, the country’s war general, and given a real, free life, he managed to lose all that he loved once again, but this time during an event that is now called the Archon War. If only he hadn’t volunteered to participate that day… he wouldn’t have met all the friends he made in the way or have to watch them all die in brutal, bloody ways. A shot in the heart, multiple gunshots, explosions, being kidnapped by the enemy… he had seen it all with those amber eyes and he definitely wished to never witness something close to it again.

That’s why when he met you and fell in love with you, he went paranoid. He couldn’t just let you roam free in the cruel world where you two live in. He could easily lose you to some stupid, or cruel reason if he let you have freedom to walk wherever you wanted.

He couldn’t even trust his loyal companions when it came to you. Maybe they would take advantage of his trust on them to take you away from him. Xiao didn’t understand that not everyone viewed you as this heaven-sent angel as he did. He thought you naturally attracted everything to yourself with your beauty, kindness, will to work hard, including men with bad intentions, so he decided to completely censor you for the world, only to be seen by his eyes.

And, now, you’ve been in this repetitive cycle of practically living in a chamber in his home for months. He was completely ignorant to any protest, either ignoring them or not even noticing them, which was making you run out of ideas.

But, now that you were reminded of the man’s past, thanks to Ganyu, your old boss, you had brainstormed an idea that could finally trigger him into saying ‘yes’, and tonight, you wished to test it.

“Adeptus Xiao went through a lot. From hunger to watching his friends die… he pretty much went through all miseries of the world and refuses to help himself. I apologize for his aloof manner, Ms. Y/N…”

You dearly missed to hear her sweet voice bossing you around. When Xiao wanted to boss you, his voice didn’t have any other motivation rather than his own selfishness, he simply wanted to own your soul. And let’s not mention how war-cry-like tone in his orders were when he was angry.

“Y/N.” The door of your chamber, where you were sleeping at, was finally opened. A comforting shine of the house’s upstairs’ lights came inside the room too, lifting up your spirit a little bit. “I made this for you.” He walked up to you with a plate of your favorite food, whose smell was mouth-watering to you.

“Thank you.” You decided to not get up from your bed, or stare back at him. Watching the few, unmoving stars in the sky you could see from the room’s window was more entertaining than him and his food.

Xiao thought that maybe you just weren’t hungry in the moment, and decided to place it in the ground by your bed gently. He wasn’t satisfied with the way you acted there, but he had no option but to leave. Just to make sure you were fine, as soon as he closed the door, instead of walking upstairs, he decided to lean his body down and peek his eyes through the peephole before. You remained immobile as expected, unaware of him being invasive to your privacy, but at least you didn’t seem to be trying to put in action some another stupid plan to possibly escape from him. That’s when Xiao finally decided to let go of you for now.

“Y/N?” You heard his voice right above your right ear, a little sharper than usual, causing you to wake up in a shiver.

You looked upwards, meeting his eyes wide and worried. Your stomach was constantly aching and rumbling for food now, specifically your favorites ones, but you decided to keep acting like nothing was going on.

“Why didn’t you eat your dinner?” He pulled the plate with food and showed it to you. Now, the smell of it wasn’t too pleasant.

“I didn’t like the food.” You managed to tell the lie smoothly. You’ve been rehearsing that for the past hours to make sure it was spoken normally.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve taken a single bite out of it.” He sounded more stressed this time, worried about the accuracy of your words.

“It didn’t look good. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it, I’m sorry.” Xiao was surprised at your words and your nonchalant attitude, just turning around to go to sleep like you hadn’t just almost cut his heart in half. No one, not even you when you were protesting, has ever said that his cooking was bad.

His concern immediately took over him. He grabbed the fork hanging at a corner of the plate and brought it the food.

Despite the fact that it was awfully cold and a little out of date, it still didn’t really taste as bad as you described it to be. It couldn’t possibly be worse when it was still fresh and warm.

“Are you… sure?” He couldn’t even believe he was asking you such a question.

“Yeah.” You shrugged your shoulders, a little nervous about staring at him in the eyes now.

“I should get you something to eat now, then—” Xiao immediately begun walking to the kitchen before even finishing talking to you.

“No.” You murmured, slightly quiet, but he still heard you like that was a scream, and stopped to look back at you again. “I’m not hungry.” You smiled at him, knowing it’d help convincing him.

“You’re… not?” Xiao was dumbfounded.

“No.” You shrugged your shoulders again and decided to lay down at the bed again.

Sleeping was the only thing you could do to ease your hunger pains and slow it down as much as possible.

“Ok…” His eyebrows frowned, beginning to suspect that you had other things in mind.

He decided to try avoiding any possibilities of you doing something against his rules, so, for the rest of the morning, he forced you to stay around him while he worked with many documents. Leaving you alone in a room where you’d have privacy to do whatever you wished to did not seem like a smart idea to Xiao. And, of course, it comforted him to have you around, despite your hatred for him.

But, of course, his mind was quickly unsettled by your disinterest in food. Xiao would’ve probably ignored it for a longer period if it wasn’t for his own experiences with hunger.

What a trigger you pulling on him.

As a kid, sometimes he would have to eat bugs, spiders, snow… so many messed-up digestible things to survive. He knows the feeling of starvation like it was his shadow. It was slow, painful, agonizing… so he obviously want to protect you from it at all cost.

“It’s 2 in the noon. You haven’t eaten anything.” Xiao finally exploded and expressed his concern out of the blue, stopping his document-reading to pay attention at you.

“I’m not hungry.” You repeated yourself.

“I don’t care!” Xiao finally stood up, slapping the table with both hands, making you slightly shiver on your spot. “I’ll bring you lunch.” He walked out of the room in a hurry, stressed and disturbed by your behavior.

He didn’t take long to, once again, bring a plate of the food he had cooked the day before. There was no way you hated his cooking that bad. He took your words in the most offensive way possible, and now he wanted to see you eat it to make sure you actually don’t like it.

Your face remained normal as he came back and approached you with the tray of food in his hands. He sat down by your side and begun forking the food for you, expecting you to respond obediently, but instead, you just kept staring at him like he was invisible.

“Open your mouth.” He brought the fork closer to your mouth but you simply grinned in response.

“No.” Your voice was normal, but it felt like a sting to him.

“I want to see you eating the food. If I see that you really don’t like it, I’ll cook something else. You could also help me cooking if that helps you.” Xiao’s eyes were barely blinking at that point, completely desperate to see the answers of his experiment.

“I’ve been saying it this entire time, yet, you still don’t realize it.” You looked down to giggle with a little bit more of respect. “I don’t want to eat.“ You rose your head again, courageous to pro rest, but Xiao still seemed to not get it.

“Hum?” He hummed in confusion.

You don’t way to eat?

Is that really what you said right now?

You want to starve until you’re crying in pain?

“I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat. I’m not going to eat.” You crossed both your arms and legs while doing a staring competition with him.

“What are you talking about?” Xiao lowered the fork, anxiety already beginning to accelerate his heart.

“I’m tired of this, Xiao. I’m tired of living in some shit, gray chamber every single day of my life. I want my freedom back again.” Xiao’s eyes widened with that sentence, realization starting to take him.

Is that why you don’t want to eat your meal? You want freedom first? Freedom of what? You’re free in his house.

“Are you trying to negotiate your rights in this house?” Xiao’s voice was low, yet threatening like he was a fox, preparing to attack you.

“Yes, I am.” You remained unmoved, despite his adrenaline levels raising and his tone growing more violent.

“Do you want to be locked up in that room for the next 5 days?!” Xiao immediately threatened, standing up just to grab you by the collar of your clothes, which didn’t really make you flinch. “You’re not going to get anything. You’re good where you are. Now, be a good girlfriend and open your mouth.” Although he was trying to scare you into obeying him, the way his hands were trembling with anxiety made his threat look pathetic.

No… no… you can’t be preferring to be on his old shoes instead of enjoying all the modernity he offered you in that house. You can’t be preferring to kill yourself brutally and slowly rather than being his girlfriend.

Xiao grunted as he thought of those and genuinely tried shoving the spoon closer to your mouth, but your instincts reacted first and you flinched your head to the side, using your ams to hold and push his arm back. It almost worked for Xiao, but the food still couldn’t reach inside your red flesh. Even if it did, you could just spit it out anyway.

When Xiao thought of that too, he intensified his weight on top of you. He could control so many things of you, yet, he couldn’t control what your brain chose for your interns. Perhaps locking you in a room would be better for your little plan too, so what could he do?

What could he do?

What could he do?!

WHAT COULD HE DO?!?!

“No..!” You responded, barely opening your mouth to not let him possibly hold it on place and shove food down your throat.

“You better stop with this nonsense right now, Y/N!” Xiao’s eyebrows frowned even more, looking absolutely serious about your threat.

“I won’t stop with it until I get my freedom back, and there’s nothing you can do about it! Do you know how it feels to be stuck at home 24/7 with a person that’s not worth it?! I want my freedom back right now, Xi—!” Before you could rant all your feelings out of their gates, Xiao’s hand jumped on you, making way into your mouth and holding it open.

“Shut up… SHUT UP! You don’t want to do this, Y/N, you don’t!” Xiao repeated over and over while trying to fight the strength you were putting in your jaw to bite him. “You’re gonna eat this meal… you’ll be ok… and you’ll be grateful for the rights you already have..!” He started using his other hand to aim the fork of food inside you, causing you to try fighting him even more. “You can’t hate me… not this much… you can’t..! There’s no reason for you to hate me this much! I could be acting way worse, you know?! But I am merciful to you, and only you…” You’ve never heard him talk so desperately like that while managing to shove a few crumbs of food, inside your mouth, in which you quickly started pushing out of you with your tongue.. “EAT! FOR GOD’S SAKE, JUST EAT!” Xiao started bobbing and shaking your arms, trying to possibly wake you up from your delusion. “Why are you doing this?! Why?! Why?!?! I give you everything that you need to live safely!” He finally jumped away from you so he could continue ranting with more freedom, walking in slow circles around the room.

You started hyperventilating immediately, coughing too to make sure that was absolutely no nutrients going down your throat.

“Y/N, I know what hunger feels like… you don’t want to do this over something so stupid like freedom to go outside…” Xiao covered his face with his hands due to the trigger he was getting from his own memories. “Why would you even want it..? To go shopping?! I can do that for you!” You scoffed at his words.

“There’s no point in discussing this with you.” You shook your head side-to-side. “Let me have freedom.” You insisted another time.

But, unlike what you expected from the triggered man in front of you, did not submit to your wish, and this time he made sure you’d be punished for the agony you’re making him feel for your well-being.

You spent the next hours just screaming and banging the door of your cell, talking about how you’d not eat until you got your freedom and for him to let you out, over, and over, and over… until you fell asleep, disappointed at yourself for not calling his attention.

But you were wrong. Of course Xiao could keep his eyes on you even when he was far. There was a single, miserably small camera in a corner of the room that could move to every angle of the room that you never spotted. As soon as he counted 10 minutes of you not moving in the bed, he decided to climb down and visit you.

Although hunger was making you fall asleep easier and harder, Xiao knew that you were alert to every touch of his due to your disgust. So he has to keep his steps smooth, his breathing calm, and his touch barely sensible.

He very slowly closed the door, the ‘bang’ noise fortunately didn’t wake you up. Then, he gently stepped around the room in soft spots until he could reach his hands on you.

It reached a loose strand of your pijama’s borders and slowly pulled them upwards until he could mire most of your chest. Although your underwear and raw skin did distract him a bit, as soon as his eyes landed on your ribs, now with visible bone curves, twisted his stomach upside down.

He remembered when he first realized his slimness when he was a famine kid. He would rub his hands around his ribs, finding the curves of his bones cool to play with, but as soon as his stomach ached for some source of energy, he curled up in agony and sobbed, praying for food to somehow appear for him.

To think of you in such situation made his grip tighten instinctively in your dress. He would’ve sheltered you or anyone in that situation immediately. But, now that he’s in love with you, he specifically belies you shouldn’t ever go through the hardships of Liyue for no good reason, even if you want to. After all, it is one of the many reasons why he keeps you stuck in one safe place with no access to harm.

But… it still failed to keep you safe from harm or simply to make you like it. You were supposed to be feeling comfortable at his home, not starving yourself to get out of it. He hated to see you doing that to yourself because of him. What a mean trick of you to use such a method of self-harm against his sensibility. One that he directly relates to, one that he directly fears and repels.

He can’t let you do that.

He can’t let you feel what it feels like to step in concrete-made streets, or in snow, with care feet.

He can’t let you feel cold enough to have your fingers and nose burning due to the heat shock of it.

He can’t let you feel hungry enough to think a beetle could be nutritious.

He can’t let you sell your dignity for some poor, soulless cheater.

He can’t let no man take advantage of you and place their dirty hands on you.

If he went through enough misery being a man, the thought of what it would be the woman he loves in his place makes him want to vomit.

He can’t let you hurt yourself.

“Ms. Y/N?” You heard a female voice above you.

Your body shivered in fear. It’s been a while since you’ve last been waken up by one of Xiao’s house maids.

“W-What…” The first thing you felt was a sting in your stomach and rumbling noises coming from it. Hunger was really becoming serious now.

Your eyes were aching to close again and your arms were barely handling to hold you sat in the bed due to the lack of energy in you.

“Here.” She offered you a whole pile of documents organized in a folder. “I’ll be your assigned caretaker.” She bowed to you and begun walking away from the room to let you have privacy to read the documents.

You watched the Mai’s leave in disbelief. From that sentence, you assumed that you won the game you proposed and that made your eyes open in joy.

You quickly turned to the folder, and the first thing your eyes landed on when you opened it was a small, orange sticky note.

“Please eat before beginning to read this.

I’ll be back at 8. You have until that time to enjoy the city.”

You rapidly removed the note from the white sheet in which it was glued against after reading it, desperate to dig out the context for that note and to satisfy your hopes. Your eyes were flashed by a whole pile of white sheets with multiple essays written in Arial font and in black color. You quickly ran through various pages, meeting various titles and sections for it all, like you were reading a law. Finally, you went back to the first page, and decided to finally take a look at the enormous title at the top of the page.

Your Rights of Freedom

And you could swear a tear rolled down your cheek.

Diluc: Bipolarity

Diluc was a man that had all advantages over you, and he used those to trap you in his house and control how you acted. He had money, power, influence, security… everything that you didn’t have more of.

Your life, right now, could be easily described as “depressing”, and nothing else.

You had no freedom at all. You were forced to abandon your friends, family and career dreams, to become a traditional wife. All you were left with were the maids of his home, but Diluc still restricted your relationship with them a lot, or else they’d surely suffer enormous consequences. You couldn’t ever leave the house, not even to the backyards. Diluc wasn’t even sacred of the possibility of you running away or you telling someone about your relationship with him, he just wanted to have you entirely for him and his needs. A perfect wife who was devoted to him and happy to pleasure him. But, since he couldn’t achieve that from you naturally, he used those financial advantages to force you to devote to him. The only times you’d ever get out of that house was when he wanted to bring you out with him and possibly bond with you truthfully, but since you wouldn’t demonstrate any interest, he’d rarely do so. For some reason he still believes he has the chance of making you genuinely fall in love with him. Don’t blame him! He tried making you love him for many years, ever since the beginning of college, but you never saw him as anymore than a friend! Diluc, in the other hand, was so obsessed with you and your rejection to his confession that he could barely sleep comfortably. Thoughts of you and him together filled his mind 24/7. He dreamed to have you wearing beautiful dresses for him, especially the white one, with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. The only things that ruined how Diluc processed his feelings was his father’s death. He loved his father, but never quite appreciated his efforts truly. When he died, an avalanche of guilt was thrown in Diluc, making him feel worthless for many years for not being as grateful as he should been to his dad. He was so scared of ever wasting anyone he loved again that he decided to make you his before you could ever think about getting a boyfriend, instead of simply letting you go.

And if you disobeyed his orders, he would punish you in multiple ways, either physically or mentally. But, since your fears made you submit as soon as he threatened you of punishment, you’d never actually found a reason to fear Diluc.

That phase was the worst phase of your life. Having to abandon literally everything you’ve built and have been building was a poison that only rose deeper in your blood vessels. And to submit to a toxic man, and having to act like a perfect robot that couldn’t do mistakes was truly draining. You had a soul. You had passions. Not even some passions of yours were free to you. Films with violence or sex? He won’t let you watch it. Films with female empowerment? He won’t let you watch it. Romance novels? He won’t let you even think about it. You protested, and protested, and protested… but Diluc never heard you. You were his, by law, and while you were stuck in there, there was nothing you could do about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he hated to see you staring at nothing, wondering if this mess of a ‘marriage’ will ever end. But if it meant he could make you love him, even if it was due to a Stockholm Syndrome, he didn’t see much problems in imprisoning you like that.

Once again, you were tired of it all. You wanted to regain the confidence you used to have once again. Breaking his furniture wouldn’t annoy him, harming him wouldn’t annoy him, harming other people around wouldn’t annoy him, not even if you harmed yourself would be enough.

But… what if you harmed yourself in a way he can’t control? Because if you slash your wrists or throw yourself from the home’s third floor, he could still take you to a hospital and save your life. Because he can stop you from dying pretty easily. But what if the harm was in stomach, a place his hands can’t reach?

So, you made the choice of starvation for this month’s protest.

“Do you not like the food?” He asked to you while you simply stared at the plate in boredom with your hands in your thighs.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You said despite your desperate wish to eat that delicious, juicy, medium-rare beef the cooks had made.

Every time the words ‘my dear’ has to come out of you, it felt like a stab in your heart. How many angels have lost their wings yet with every time you were forced to call him that?

“Eat.” He demanded with a more real tone this time.

“I’m feeling sick, my dear, please.” You decided to put your hands around your belly to make your lie look more real.

“What are your symptoms?” He already seemed to suspect your words.

“Nausea. A heavy one.” You covered your face with your hands and started rubbing your fingers around your forehead, as if you were trying to act more ‘sick’ to him.

He remained quiet for a few seconds, judging your argument and trying to remember if you’ve acted like that throughout the day. Perhaps you could be lying, but illnesses usually show up unexpectedly, so there was a possibility of the same really happening to you right now. Maybe one of the things you ate today were rotten and were making you feel sick like that. He could already feel some anger rising in his veins, thinking about the punishment he’d give to the cooks that let rotten food reach your beautiful pink lips.

“Ok. Go to bed.” He ordered you, this time more sweet and trustful about your claim.

Thankfully, there was a TV in his room, which was what you usually used to make free time run faster. Since you had many “wife duties”, you’d barely have time to sit on that bed and enjoy yourself with that big screen, to instead, spend an insufferable amount of time with him. Spending hours watching whatever you wanted on it, since he wasn’t there to monitor, you enjoyed yourself like never before. It was a great time, and you were glad you got to enjoy a little bit of your life again before it was absolutely crushed.

“What do you want for breakfast today?” He asked while leaning down to put his leather shoes on, on the right corner of the bed, and you, putting on a cozy robe in the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You were short with your words, and refused to look back at him.

He remained silent, but you could sense his eyes preying at you, pausing his own shoe-putting.

“What are you trying to do, Y/N?” His voice already sounded scary to you, but you unfortunately had to swallow it all down to keep posture.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what are you talking about.” You still tried to act like everything was alright.

“You’re always hungry for breakfast, Y/N, no matter if you ate dinner or not. How are you not hungry after a whole night without eating a thing?” He finally went back to putting his shoes back on, so he could get off the bed as soon as possible to walk up to you.

His tall, menacing figure, standing close to yours, made your body harden in fear and flinch away from him. You couldn’t do it. No matter how many hours of practice and self-reassurance, you couldn’t even make eye contact with him when he was standing like that. A threat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N?” He asked, but you couldn’t find anything to answer again. “Stay right there. I’ll bring you food first.” The sudden change in his harsh tone to a more normal one, made you swallow all your saliva down your throat in relief, feeling how badly it had accumulated and stuck to your mouth during this moment of silence.

As soon as you heard his steps growing quieter and quieter, you sighed all the air you couldn’t exhale previously.

You closed your eyes and begun doing a breathing exercise, knowing you were certainly going to go through something bad, but with some hopes that at least it would be worth it.

It didn’t take Diluc long to come back with a plate of your favorite meal. Your mouth salivated to eat it, but you simply looked away instead, causing your stomach to rumble in denial.

“Here.” He sat down by your side and lifted his arm with the fork in his hand, but you refused to even look at it. “Look at me, Y/N.” His eyes were barely bruising your skin with their intensity.

“No.” You firmly stated. That was probably the only word you’d be able to mumble without stuttering.

“Excuse me?” Diluc sounded a little ironic, which triggered you into finally standing up for yourself.

“I will not eat any sort of food u-until you l-let me..!” You had to breathe in and out a deeply before managing to gather courage to finish your sentence. “Until you let me have my freedom back!” You closed your eyes and screamed. Without seeing his face, you had courage to scream whatever you wanted to him.

You proceeded to hyperventilate, waiting for him to give an initial argument for you to debunk.

Diluc suddenly threw the fork in some corner in the room. The sound of silver crashing around the floor multiple times made your body flinch back hard, completely opposite to your bravery. You saw his hands laying in the bed right after, using them as a support to stand up.

Yeah, you’re done for.

You thought that sentence to yourself over and over while looking down, preferring to listen to the eery noises of wood cranking with every step of his than staring at his poisonous eyes.

But, instead of what you expected, he simply stared down at you from a really short distance, in one of the deadliest silences ever.

“No matter what you say… I’ll not give up until I get my freedom ba—”

SLAP!

Before you could even groan from the agonizing pain of his tough hand crashing against your soft skin, he forcefully pulled your chin back with his hand until you were staring at him again. Now, you finally managed to let out some gasps and moans of pain.

“What kind of nonsense are you trying to babble right now, hum?” He whispered like everything you’ve said yet was an unfunny joke. “You’re not going to get any sort of freedom. I don’t care what you do to fight for it.” He tried breaking your confidence down, obviously not allowing you to defend yourself.

He remained quiet for some seconds again, admiring your pathetic hope to get his hand off your chin.

Diluc sighed and suddenly used a few of his force to pull you closer to him and spin the both of you around, making your feet pathetically dance in the floor to keep yourself balanced in it, and then pushed you.

You weren’t really scared of that, since you figured you’d fall in the bed, but you were terrified of his intentions. Seeing yourself in such position under him while he stared down at you with a stoic face made you wonder of what he intended to do with you.

From saying mean things to you, from threatening the well-being of anyone you loved, from harming you physically, or even… sexually.

The natural female fear of rape, which was already further intensified due to the situation he forced you to be in, took you over.

“D-Don’t…” You couldn’t even cry for him to not harm you like that, only curl up your legs and pull the bed’s sheets to censor the view he had of your body.

Diluc never really assaulted you like that. It was pretty unreasonable to expect that from him. But the way he unconsciously mired down at your legs made you absolutely certain that he’d do it, especially considering the hundreds of disadvantages you had compared to him.

“Don’t what?” He unexpectedly turned away from you, walking to the other side of the room in a normal pace.

You hated how his mood would change like a light switch. It was barely predictable. It’d always make you act contrary to his intentions, which was either annoying to him, or funny. When you were afraid of punishment, when there was no punishment, made him proud of how he tamed you. But when you acted sarcastic or unworried when there was punishment, had his blood boiling.

You heard silver noises coming from behind. Diluc was picking up the silver spoon he had previously thrown to scare you.

“N-Nothing…” You finally managed to answer his question, still too scared to leave the spot in the bed he threw tou at.

“My dear.” He completed your sentence with a sarcastic, but angry, tone, like he was tired of having to repeat that order over and over.

“M-My dear…” You repeated like a scared noise, which he luckily found cute.

You saw him coming back to you, rubbing a piece of his suit in both sides of the fork.

“I hope you don’t mind this was on the floor a few seconds ago.” He sat down by your side again, immediately focusing on the plate that was resting between you two. “Open your mouth.” He ordered again, as if nothing that you previously said even reached his ears in the first place.

You frowned your eyebrows, barely gasping at his audacity to ignore you.

“I already said I’m not eating anything!” You found courage to stand up against him again, which made Diluc sigh in annoyance.

Diluc stood up again and didn’t have any patience before fisting his hands and unexpectedly using them against your belly. It was a single hard punch that barely knocked your stomach out of your mouth. You curled your body and groaned in pain, trying to hold your will to vomit back to its place.

“Are you really going to force me into doing this?” His voice was low, contrasting the quivering woman kneeling under him.

“Y-Yes…” Your mouth barely pooled saliva in the floor as you tried to resist that punch’s pain.

“It would be better for you if you stopped this nonsense right now.” Diluc pulled your hair all the way to the back, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

But you hardened your face and nodded side-to-side, knowing that was simply a manipulative trick of his to convince you into giving up.

Diluc sighed again, and this time, he forced you to look down, immediately meeting his knee hooking hard against your face. As soon as he hears your moan, he let his grip in your hair go too, which made you immediately fall into the ground to your back, knocked down. You could already feel your nose aching from being twisted and blood drips running down from you. With trembling hands, you tried wiping them off, no matter if Diluc was already stepping closer, this time with the plate in his hands again.

“I wonder what suddenly got you so confident like that. Did you consume anything inappropriate yesterday in the TV?” He kneeled down, beginning to aim the fork to your mouth again, thinking you were already defeated.

Even if Diluc was the kind of man to worship you and your beauty in every opportunity and take all care necessary to keep your body unharmed, what he did to you right now was the complete opposite of your expectations of him. You’d never know it, but in the end of the day, Diluc secretly thought you looked even prettier when you were bleeding, especially because it was done by his hands. The contrast in the color of blood and your skin was always something that called his attention, and seeing it in your beautiful face made him delighted.

This time, you wanted to clarify your protest, and allowed him to put the food in your mouth, only for you to turn your head to the floor and spit every single crumb of it, each one that he saw falling in the woods itching his nerves.

“Tch.” He rose his body up again, immediately proceeding to punish you physically.

This time, he decided to take the opportunity of your exposed neck and cheek to barely crush your head using his foot, stepping and rubbing the leather on your cheek mercilessly.

“Why the fuck can’t you just be a normal wife like in every other couple?! WHY?!” His foot uncontrollably raised from your face and moved down, beginning to kick and hook multiple spots of your body while he screamed “Why” a million times.

This was probably one of the most suicidal eras of your life. To be spanked until you were put in a hospital bed and to wake up to him immediately threatening to harm your parents if you didn’t give up in your stupid plan, or told anyone in the hospital about your relationship, when you couldn’t even speak due to the breather, was definitely a gut-wrenching nightmare.

You gave up in your plan. Thankfully, neither of you made any comments about it, even if he had every opportunity to shame you for your stupidity. That’s exactly what he used to do after one of your plans failed. He mocked you, shamed you and punished you. A true torture that you would have to endure every time you failed.

“Y/N.” He called you again as you ate dinner in opposite side of the table to him.

Your whole body flinched as you heard his voice call you. It’s been a week since your latest protest attempt and it’s been a week since you’ve begun flinching to every action of his directed to you. It was inevitable. It was your first time ever being a victim of such kind of brutal abuse. You were scared for your like to make anything that would possibly trigger him into doing it again. Although you could’ve begun acting like that on pirose to make him feel guilty, this time, your fear was genuine, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Yes, my dear..?” You still had to answer to his every call with that nickname just like he taught you to.

“Do you—…” He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn’t anymore, and sighed, giving up on the idea of ignoring you again, and starting over again. “Why do you flinch every time I interact with you? Is this another trick of yours?” He dropped his fork in his plate and begun staring at you with calm eyes, trying to get you to feel comfortable with him, or threaten you if you were lying.

You wanted to scoff at him, anger barely raising to the tip of your tongue with such ingenuity, but you swallowed it down. You don’t want to die yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.” You looked down and proceeded to eat, trying to make yourself less nervous.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” At this point, Diluc already knew you were lying about your ‘innocence’ when you lowered your head down so frenetically like that. “Is it because of last Monday?” You didn’t move any other muscle of your body rather than your jaw, biting your food as slow as a snail, to gather some courage before answering him.

When you finally swallowed, most of the accumulated saliva went down with the food too, preparing your mouth for speech.

“Is there any other alternative, hum?” You dropped your act for a moment and immediately shoved a piece of meat in your mouth again right after, fisting hard on the fork to not demonstrate him any more anger.

Diluc didn’t say anything else and just stared at you stoically for some good minutes before deciding to unpause his eating.

At bedtime, Diluc hugged you from behind as usual and fell asleep. You didn’t want to move a single muscle of your body, afraid he could get angry, practically curling yourself so he could hold you how he desired to and with ease. Of course Diluc noticed it too. You’d never slept so paralyzed by his side. Sometimes you’d even turn around and unconsciously hug him during your slumber, but now, he couldn’t feel a bit of comfort in the way you slept.

“Y/N.” He whispered, causing you to shiver once again.

You failed, didn’t you?

“Relax.” His voice immediately triggered you into obeying him.

You couldn’t relax your whole body, of course, but you did enough for him there, relaxing your legs and shoulders. It was enough for him not to bother you again with it.

Diluc was pissed. And your behavior was only growing his anger more and more. He did use fear to train you as a wife most of the times, but he never intended to make you so uncomfortable like that. He intended to slave you into loving him, not to slave you as an actual slave. You were doing so well previously, obeying him and still finding a few reasons to smile at him somehow, but not even gifts were turning you on now. Everything he did was like an alert to you

Why couldn’t you be a normal wife who dearly loves their husband? Every time he went to business-related parties and took you with him, he’d always meet his companions surrounded by their wives, who were happy to be holding their arms, to be wearing their rings, to be talking about their husbands to other women, while he didn’t get any of that from you. To everyone else, you were Diluc’s shy, weird and quiet wife, and now you’ve peaked those adjectives.

The alarm annoyingly ticked over and over, waking you up from your slumber. You couldn’t feel any weight around you, meaning Diluc had already gotten up. You sat up in the bed, leaning forward to turn the alarm off. You begun your morning by stretching your arms as usual and rearranging your pijamas back to their normal placement around your body, since they’d sometimes twist into really bizarre angles. While you prepared yourself for another depressive day, you heard the door to the bathroom slide.

“Good morning.” Diluc stared at you while walking to the closet in the opposite side of the room.

This morning, you attempted to not answer his greeting. You just weren’t in the mood of it, although that could’ve meant you’d get punished.

“If you’d like to go out today, I’ll assign a maid and a driver to take you anywhere you want to go.” His words caught you unexpectedly, especially since he was talking so neutrally about it, not even looking at you.

“W-… What..?” You could swear your eyes were shining in excitement.

“You heard me.” He refused to repeat his previous words, shrugging his shoulders as he ran his hand through his many hanged suits.

“I can… leave..?” You could feel your eyes get slightly wet.

“Yes. You have until 7 to come back. If you come home tardy, I’ll make sure your right of freedom will be reduced to zero again. And I believe I shouldn’t need to mention the consequences what will happen in case you tell anyone about our marriage.” Diluc quickly got dressed and left the room before he got any more flustered from hearing your sighs of relief and excitement. At least he was happy he managed to bring genuine joy to his beloved wife. “Goodbye.” He greeted before closing the door.

And a tear ran down your cheek.

From the relief of knowing that all your hard work had made profit.

Taglist: @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @luminieee

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

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pandoa · 1 year ago

Text

all i want for christmas is you!!

christmas & winter fluff headcanons with all of the twst characters!

~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~

(not so) mandatory christmas/winter special from yours truly <3 merry christmas and happy holidays c:

♡— ace trappola pulls you into an ambush of snowballs along the sidewalks of the road as you two walk home on your way back from a days worth of work at nrc. the impact is sudden, leaving your cheeks turning cold the instant the sphere of softened ice hits your face. your eyes meet the twinkle in ace's eyes as he laughs mischievously and reaches his hand into the snow beneath him to conjure up another frozen weapon. he smirks with triumph as he grins a boyish grin that has your heart racing, excitement and challenge coursing through your veins as you turn to get your own snowball.

ace scoffs as you walk away, appalled that you decided to turn away rather than give him your attention, "what, can't handle that fact that i wo-?"

smack!

he spoke too soon.

♡— deuce spade has a surprise for you. and it's killing him not being able to tell you. the surprise consists of a neatly wrapped box his mother helped decorate and a very, very, very thought-out script he'd been rehearsing since november. only the best for you, right? deuce has worked hard to put together your present, going so far as to ask cater for an online link to "cute gifts to give the person you're confessing to during the holidays" on magicam to try and help him brainstorm the perfect gift for you. with that and the knowledge he's learned from you regarding human holidays, deuce has managed to put together something he hopes will show you the words "i. like. you." in more ways than one. he just... really wants you. to like him back, he means.

♡— cater diamond wears matching holiday pajamas with you. he sees it as it's trending all over the internet as cute couples with the same berry red plaid pajamas and matching black hoodies fool around on camera as they all dance playfully together, a memory he'd like to recreate with you. he ropes you into the silly tradition, stopping by your dorm to force coax you into the festive attire. you really have no say in this, and the ever-present phone camera pointed towards both you and cater prove it. you may not even be dating... but that doesn't stop him from persuading you to match with him in the name of you both being "cute for the holidays." in reality, though, he's having the time of his life right now as people in his comment section begin to assume that you two were truly a couple. it's not a crime if he doesn't correct them, right?

♡— trey clover hosts a gingerbread house contest with you. and only you. the idea springs up when you mention the tradition in your world, and trey being the observant man he is, decides that it wouldn't hurt if you two both did it, too. it was well in his element anyway. there was no harm in hosting it as along as you seemed to be enjoying it. designating an entire day to first make the gingerbread from scratch, trey then promptly invites you over to heartslabyul to finally decorate separate houses of sweets. he gives you one set of gingerbread and the other to himself before starting a timer which will signal the beginning of your contest. may the best house win~

oh... what do you win if you do end up creating the best house?

trey will let you decide that :)

♡— riddle rosehearts reads you sweet stories before you go to bed. it's after a long and chilling day as the weather outside prevents either of you from going out, making the both of you stuck to your own devices as you spend the day lazing around the dorm, cozying into your comfiest and warmest attire. you wrap yourselves into as many blankets as possible as you nuzzle into the plush cushions of the couch. riddle, whose face was a light shade of pink (whether that be due to the cold of the temperature or his a little closer proximity to you), then begins to recite a few stories he's memorized by heart as his voice lulls you into sleep. the evening grows darker and colder, yet you and riddle grow warmer and content as he finishes his story, realizing you'd fallen asleep, and softly smiles at you before making sure you were securely tucked into your blankets.

☼— jack howl takes you to go see the beautiful lights of the holidays. at first, he acts indifferent to the festivities of the lights, not really paying them any special mind as he goes on about his day. but when he found out that you personally do find enjoyment in seeing the lights, he makes it his unofficial duty of taking you to see this custom. he asks you in the most awkwardly endearing way; his in denial tendencies showing as he refuses to admit that he's bringing you because, well, he cares for you.

"you like... to see the lights, right?"

"oh- no, i don't really care if we go see these or not. i can live without them."

"but you want to see them, so i guess we coul-"

"wait! i mean- no, i did not say anything. just shut up and come with me."

give the boy a break. he just wants to see you happy~

☼— ruggie bucchi handmakes you a present. it's simple and adorable, although don't say that to him out loud. he knows it is, but... just don't admit it out loud, yeah? he begging you. ruggie works hard to make you this present, going so far as to start preparations weeks before he ever gives it to you. it wasn't too difficult to make, in actuality, it's just that he had made sure every detail was meticulously checked constantly for the best results. thinking of you that entire time making the gift, ruggie is eager to find out your reaction once you open the present. on the outside, he looks as if he really couldn't care less of what your reaction will be. but on the inside, the young man hopes that you'll come to like whatever his nimble hands have made for you.

☼— leona kingscholar is a lazy man. but, sometimes, maybe lazy works out in your favor? you think about this as you and leona lay together in the comforts of the warm cushions of the couch you both had squeezed yourselves on, both laying horizontally as you tightly squished yourselves on the couch as if it were bed. leona lays next to you, his breathing slow and steady as he naps with his arm draped over your waist like a blanket. usually, you'd be pushing this man to wake up and get on his nerves for being so "lazy." but now, you find yourself relaxing as your head rests against his chest—feeling the warmth of his body radiating onto yours. and with the freezing snow falling outside, it was hard to resist this moment of peacefully cuddling the typically more arrogant housewarden. it was comfortable, and that was all that mattered.

❋— floyd leech trades (purposefully) silly gifts with you. you both make a challenge for yourselves: whoever gives the most obscure gift wins. and both of you intend on beating the other. you really couldn't remember how the idea first started, though... all you remember is telling floyd of the traditions in your world and then bam. a brilliant idea struck both of your minds. the process is chaotic and strenuous, but the amount of "weird" items you and floyd find while searching is quite amusing. especially in sam's shop of wonders. but despite the laughs you share with him, this is still a competition. whoever out-sillies the other will win. the challenge is on.

❋— despite the winter festivities taking place, jade leech decides to take you to a more... tropical celebration during the holidays. he brings you along to see the seaside as he pulls you into the clear waters of the ocean for a swim, the heat of the sun contrasting the the cold your other friends were probably currently experiencing. a holiday in the heat isn't unheard of, actually; you just didn't expect for jade to invite you of all people to accompany him, let alone with the trip only consisting you and him. he guides you into the slightly deeper side of the waters as his merform is now seen with you grasping his hands in the ocean. the cold water and heat of the island is a nice change of pace for once as you let jade take both of you wherever he wished, with you keeping your hold on his hand the entire time.

❋— azul ashengrotto takes a day off from working to spend time with you, even if it was just for a day. with work constantly filling his mind, it's sometimes difficult for him to spend time with you outside of your visits to mostro lounge or the occasional spotting and waving in between classes at nrc. but! this time is different because today, azul makes it his goal to take work completely off of his mind as he makes his way to your dorm. mostro lounge should be perfectly fine without him for 24 hours... he left jade in charge, so he knows business is in capable hands. once he picks you up from your dorm, azul decides it would be more gentlemanly of him to let you choose a place for you two spend time at. anything. he needs to make up for all of those times he'd been so caught up in matters at octavinelle, of course.

✰— jamil viper holds your hand in his as he places your hands in his pocket while you walk together. it's another cold day as you're all bundled up in cozy winter jackets when jamil notices you trying to warm your hands up by huffing warm air into your palms. after watching you do this a few more times, the young man walking beside you wordlessly takes your hand in his and gently places both his hand and yours into the fabric of his own pocket. you see him do this as a small flush of your cheeks adds to the already red tint of your face due to the cold. jamil makes no effort in acknowledging his actions, however, as he nonchalantly continues facing forward, ignoring the way you seemed to be left a little embarrassed but smiling by this simple gesture. but that doesn't mean jamil isn't also as equally as giddy as you. he just knows how to hide it better.

✰— kalim al-asim shares a hoodie with you. and i mean, actually shares it. literally. as in, he climbs into your hoodie as you're still wearing it and innocently wraps himself around you, his face resting against the shirt you have underneath your hoodie as he uses you as some sort of blanket. the piece of clothing is oversized enough for both of you to fit in at the same time, so it was perfect. as kalim climbs in to join you, he cuddles himself against you as the warmth from both you and the hoodie engulf him, making him feel like a little woodland creature nuzzling itself into your pocket. it's just that... the pocket was much bigger, and much more closer against you. kalim finds comfort in this space with you, so you may be stuck there for a good while~

♪— epel felmier wakes you up to the letters "i ♡ u" written in the pristine snow outside as you look at him from the window, smiling at him as he grins back at you. it's a little early in the morning at epel's home as you wake up to the sound of small snowballs tapping against the window. getting up from out of your bed to see what, or who, was throwing them, you're then met with the sight of a distant epel on the ground, waving up at you as he points to whatever he's written in the snow. your heart melts unlike the snow as you chuckle at what he's written using his footprints in the white snow, the gesture sweet as you see how proud he was with your reaction.

♪— rook hunt sings and serenades you with holiday love songs outside of your dorm's doorway. they're love songs that you had taught him yourself, but that honestly just makes the moment much more romantic and lovely than it originally would have been. with only a guitar in his hands and a bouquet of flowers resting in the quiver strapped along his back with his arrows, rook begins to play you a few songs you taught him from your world, all of which centered around love and the holidays. what other things would make this moment more perfect? the young man also goes to write you his own song as he performs it for you, french both naturally and lyrically intertwined within the words of his song. once he finishes his serenade, he takes off his hat as he places it against his heart, lowering his head in a bow fit for a gentleman.

"my only christmas wish is you, mon ange."

this huntsman truly does know how to make a person swoon, doesn't he?

♪— vil schoenheit subtly gives you a wink from the stage as he performs. with the winter season brewing, vil was set to perform for an event along with many other celebrities in twisted wonderland. he invites you along with other pomefiore students like rook to come watch as he sings and dances on the stage like a star you just couldn't bring yourself to turn away from. so obviously in his element, vil continues performing before he catches your eye looking at him from the audience and flashes you a quick wink. the wink was fast and fleeting, one second he was there glancing at you too, and then gone off to the other side of the stage the next. no one else had caught the sight of his wink your way as you stood there, concealing a smile as you returned to cheering and singing along as the image of vil smiling at you filled you with a certain type of joy.

✤— idia shroud tries his best to keep you warm. walking through the chilly temperatures of the outside, idia notices how your body seems to shiver, causing the generally isolated housewarden to glance at you with a look of concern as you both continue to walk. he debates with himself whether or not he should offer his jacket to you, the idea itself just making him shrivel up in embarrassment. what was this? some cringey shoujo manga? his mind is in conflict with itself as you two walk side by side in silence with idia's expression growing more and more furrowed as he anxiously thinks to himself. minutes pass by with you still silently shivering until idia shakily places his jacket on you. welp, yolo, idia thinks as he avoids the way you look back at him from the corner of his eye, the embarrassment all too much for him.

yolo, indeed.

♛— sebek zigvolt thinks he'd be good at ice skating. for one reason or another, you manage to challenge the boy at ice skating. and he proudly accepts. even though you both know that he has zero experience in skating. zero. it's amazing how you even managed to get this boy out of the rink without any fatal wounds as all he does on the ice skating rink is fall down rambunctiously and yell because he claims that you had another student "curse" the ice, causing him to fall down almost every two minutes. in reality, though, sebek just lacks any semblance of grace when it comes to the ice. he won't accept defeat from a mere human, however! no, no, no... you both will be staying there until sebek can successfully skate through the entire rink without falling! onward, human!

♛— silver makes the true magic of the holidays happen as he uses his magic to make a reindeer fly, just like in the stories you'd always tell him about your world. he knows that, in your world, those stories are merely fictional, but he wishes to show you something beautiful during your time in twisted wonderland. so, he makes a few of his woodland friends fly as he guides you into the forest he typically spends his time in, showing you sights you'd never seen before as you both hop onto the back of the reindeer and see the world in an entirely different point of view with silver and the reindeer guiding you through the stratosphere.

♛— lilia vanrouge catches you in a mistletoe "trap." you're completely caught off-guard as you search for him all over nrc after getting an ominous message from him reading only the word "help", making you rush through the entire school in search for your precious fae lover. you're speeding through the halls until the frightening, but still adorable, face of lilia suddenly pops up in front of you with a playful grin before promptly placing a light kiss to your forehead... all while he hung upside down as he held... what looked like mistletoe above both of your heads???

"i must say, (y/n), your world has very fun traditions. we should do this next year as well~"

you look at him at first with confusion until it registers in your mind as you see the familiar red and green plant in his hand.

wait. how did he get that in the first place-?

♛— malleus draconia showers you with gifts. constantly. all throughout december, malleus manages to give you more gifts than you have ever gotten your whole life. and he doesn't stop either. you can't even comprehend how he found the time to find all of these for you... or how he hasn't run out of gift ideas just yet. your dorm is almost overflowing with gifts just from him as you sort through piles of items and wrapping paper, the dorm looking even more disheveled as you attempt to organize the chaos. the instant he found out about the "season of giving," malleus made all of the effort to do just that. give, and give, and give, and give... you get the point. and it's only for you, of course. who else would the fae prince use this much effort for? only you.

a/n: i will rise from the dead whenever it comes to christmas

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stardustvanfleet · 3 months ago

Text

Desire — Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: When your boyfriend Jake takes you out on a romantic dinner date, you can’t help but tease him… but two can play at that game.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. Soft dom!Jake. Relentless teasing while at dinner, absurd amounts of sexual tension. Rushing home from the restaurant to fuck. Fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, finishing inside, dirty talk with both praise and degradation.

Author’s Note: It’s been almost exactly a year to the day since I posted my last full-length Jake fic, and I am so beyond excited to be finally sharing this one with you all! I wrote this over the last few months with a WHOLE lot of love behind it. Huge thanks to everyone for being so understanding about the gap in my writing— I went through a lot of really exciting changes in my life this year that put writing on hold for a little while, but it feels SO fantastic to be writing for gvf again!! HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to my LOVE my LIFE my darling poppy aka my beloved aka smooching you @gold-mines-melting I LOVE YOUUU thank you for being my beta reader and my brainstorming partner in crime and also being my Best Friend and i cannot WAIT to hug you again literally NEXT WEEK!!!!!!!!! other special thanks go to @losfacedevil @texas-bbq-pringles and @joshsindigostreak for just being some incredibly lovely humans that i am SO lucky to know 🥰

FIC BEGINS UNDER THE CUT!

It had started innocently enough.

At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

Truly, when Jake had come to you earlier in the day with that coy smile you loved so much, asking if you’d let him take you out tonight, you had no premeditated plans of intentionally working him up. Of course, having been together for quite some time now, you did happen to know exactly how to turn him on. Even in the most subtle of ways. The slightest touches, the smallest movements. And it wasn’t your fault if he just happened to have an effect on you that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, without even trying.

Okay… well, given the facts, perhaps the turn of events had been somewhat inevitable.

All you could focus on was Jake’s hand on your waist. It wasn’t that you weren’t admiring the decor of this upscale, intimate Italian restaurant he had brought you to, or that you weren’t able to smell the intoxicating aromas of different meals being brought to the tables you passed as you two were led to your own. It really was just that simple— one touch. That’s all it took. One touch, focused and deliberate, steady yet electric. One touch from Jake and your body was alight.

Your attention was fixated on the sensation. The heat of his large hand through the thin fabric of your dress, his fingers firmly resting against you, gripping just barely, just enough for you to feel it. How could you be getting this intoxicated on him already, before you’d even reached the dinner table? It was practically absurd. Still, the burning between your thighs was impossible to deny. Your breath caught in your throat, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught a smirk tugging at the corner of Jake’s lips.

Oh, yeah? Two can play at that game. The thought materialized in your mind just as you two arrived at the table Jake had reserved in advance. It was small, romantic, somewhat secluded, but still undoubtedly within view of other tables in the restaurant. No, you couldn’t be too daring. But what would be the harm in seeing what you could get away with?

The dress you were wearing was one of Jake’s favorites. It was a shade of blue that especially complemented your skin tone, and you knew the way it fit you and accentuated your curves drove him wild. You couldn’t help but think to use that to your advantage. As Jake sat down, his eyes remaining on you, it was impossible to resist the urge to seize the moment. Before taking your seat, you let your hands rest on the very top of the chair’s back, meeting your boyfriend’s lingering gaze. When he arched an eyebrow at you inquisitively, a knowing, appreciative smile on his face, you sighed, “I needed a night out with you, baby… to just relax with you… god, I’m so stiff…”

You trailed off, arching your back as though to stretch it, while paying quiet attention to the way Jake’s eyes trailed across your body, the slight hitch in his breathing as you let your mouth fall open in the apparent bliss of the stretch you were feeling. Pushing your chest forward and arching further, a sigh slipped from your lips as Jake— ever so slightly, but just enough for you to take notice— shifted in his seat. A sense of smug pride began to swell deep within you, alongside a stirring of something… else even further down.

Finally, you slipped into your seat, your gaze resting on Jake— an involuntary shiver running down your spine at the way his eyes had seemed to darken substantially within just the past few moments. Coyly, you picked up your menu, far more focused on Jake’s lingering gaze than the entrées on the page. You made a big show of scanning through, chewing on your lower lip… but truthfully you were barely glancing at it, your attention focused on the man across from you, the thoughts in your mind traveling down a path that had nothing to do with dinner. After a heart-pounding minute or two of stealing amorous glances over your menus, you couldn’t hold back anymore. Lowering your menu to the table and making sure Jake had a full view of your cleavage, you leaned forward, cocking your head wickedly and asking pointedly, “See anything you want tonight…?”

His gaze instantly intensified at your double entendre, those dark eyes of his flashing down to your cleavage just long enough for you to notice. The tension was already growing palpable as Jake locked eyes with you once more, his expression calm and collected but his cheeks already beginning to flush— a telltale sign of Jake’s arousal building under the surface. Still, he wasn’t going to give in that easy. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady and measured. “Be careful, pretty girl… play with fire… and you’re gonna get burned.”

“Maybe I like the heat,” you replied quickly, definitively, letting your fingers absentmindedly trace the lines in the wooden grain of the table, making sure Jake took notice of your languid movements. His gaze was electric, and you watched as he shifted in his seat once more, his jaw clenching and unclenching involuntarily as he clearly tried to maintain his composure.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you love it… but can you handle it? Can you take it all?” Jake’s words instantaneously sucked all air from your lungs, dissipated all coherent thoughts from your mind. You blinked at him, lost for words for a moment— and the smirk he gave you in return made it clear that he knew all too well the effect that his words were having on you.

“Seems like you’re interested in finding out just how much I can take,” you replied seductively, prompting Jake to arch an eyebrow at the bold nature of your comment. Before he was able to open his mouth to escalate the teasing even further, however, a waiter approached your table— putting an immediate pause on the conversation that was slipping deeper into innuendo by the moment. And though the waiter took great care to describe the details of each of that evening’s specials, you truthfully weren’t able to register a word of what they were saying. Not with Jake’s eyes on you, watching. Studying. His gaze traveled across your every centimeter, as though he was drinking you in with his eyes alone— and simultaneously undressing you in the same manner. The undeniable ache between your thighs was becoming more and more difficult to ignore in the presence of Jake’s unyielding eye contact.

Jake’s ability to appear calm and collected in moments like these was always something that impressed you. Even when you could tell that he was positively burning for you, using every ounce of his energy to keep his composure… to the untrained eye, the intensifying rosy flush in his cheeks would be the only hint towards his interior demeanor. Knowing that you were the only one that could read him so well, the only one in the restaurant aware of the desire building within him, was only serving to muddle your thoughts further. Dazedly, you became aware of how hot the room was beginning to feel.

Jake ordered for both of you, as though he was aware that you were having trouble finding the words through your cloud of arousal— and the smirk he directed towards you all but confirmed that suspicion. Always thoughtful, knowing you so well, he had chosen a drink and a dish for you that perfectly encapsulated your favorite flavors.

How ironic that the craving you were experiencing had nothing to do with the meal.

The dinner passed in a fashion that seemed somehow a blur and yet excruciatingly slow all at once— the service was impeccable, the food delicious, but every moment spent sitting across from Jake was only serving to heighten the tension that was becoming more and more unbearable. Every movement, every word from Jake, caused arousal to flood your veins. The way the muscles in the back of his hand flexed when he picked up his glass, the way his long fingers curled around it. His soft, raspy laugh, paired with that magnetic gaze that left you breathless. You were transfixed, spellbound. You could never begin to understand the effect he was able to have on you so effortlessly, but it was undeniable. Heat was radiating through every inch of your body. He had you aching, and he knew it. Still, you had your suspicions that you weren’t the only one whose thoughts had grown increasingly indecent as the night drew on. You knew that look in Jake’s eyes.

And at the end of the meal, when Jake finally stood, you were given all the information that you needed to know. Your gaze immediately flashed downwards— to an unmistakable silhouette, thick and hard, straining through the front of Jake’s pants. Your entire face suddenly grew incredibly hot, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your thighs squeezed together subconsciously. Fuck. As you were left blinking up at him, mind blank beyond the desire radiating through you, the wicked look in Jake’s eyes had you trembling. He chuckled as he took your hand, helping you to your feet and smirking. “Why so flustered, baby?” When you still couldn’t find the words, he leaned in, letting you hear his last question right in your ear, raspy and low. “Do you see something you want tonight…?”

Your own line. Fuck.

So that’s how he was going to play it.

If dinner was difficult to get through, the ride home from the restaurant was damn near tortuous. The drive couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, but the effort was Herculean. The tension was burning, intoxicating, dizzying, with Jake gripping the steering wheel practically white-knuckled in his determination to get the two of you home as efficiently as possible. You could hardly breathe, squeezing your thighs together, heart hammering within your chest, knowing you must be positively soaked. Even Jake’s heavy breaths were making your head spin. You were aching for his touch. Desperate for it.

When finally, finally, Jake pulled into the driveway of the home you shared, you felt practically lightheaded. Pulling his key from the ignition, he turned to you. Once your eyes met, your breath caught all over again, and Jake arched his eyebrow, as though to challenge you. His voice was low and seductive when he spoke. “You’re looking all worked up, baby… is there something my pretty girl needs?”

Your breaths were coming shakily, your legs somehow already beginning to tremble, but you managed one more teasing smirk. “Why don’t you get me inside and see?”

At that, Jake’s teeth grazed his lower lip, the sight sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s my pretty little tease…” He trailed off at the involuntary whimper that slipped from your lips at his words, giving a raspy hum of approval in the presence of your blatant desire.

Flustered, desperate, dripping with need, the last few steps towards your front door would’ve taken quite literally every last bit of effort you had left within you to remain outwardly composed… even if Jake’s hand wasn’t resting on your lower back in that same way that always left you reeling.

The door hadn’t even closed behind you before you had practically thrown yourself at Jake, his satisfied groan of relief against your lips making you dizzier still as you kissed him feverishly, desperately, pressing yourself up against his solid, sturdy form with everything you had. The contact, the friction, even through the layers of fabric between you, was electrifying. Every cell in your body was crying out for more, desperate to feel Jake’s hot, flushed skin against your own. Your hands were instantly all over him, grabbing at him, pulling him closer, closer, and Jake was doing the same, his large hands searching to feel and grab at every inch of you as he kissed you back with a sense of urgency that left you whimpering into his mouth.

Your hands were sliding up his chest, finding where his button-down shirt was opened to and hooking your fingers into the fabric, desperately fumbling the last few buttons open and pushing it off of his shoulders. Another rush of need hit you in sync with his shirt dropping to the floor, drunk on the feeling of Jake’s flushed skin, hot with desire, as he growled his approval against your lips.

Somehow, while still entirely entangled in one another, hands everywhere, Jake was able to maneuver the two of you towards the bedroom between messy, heated kisses that left the two of you gasping for air. Backing you up towards the bed, Jake was groaning, “God, you’re such a tease, baby… getting me rock fucking hard for you with this beautiful fucking body…” while letting his hands slide up and down your curves, grabbing handfuls wherever he knew it would make you whimper. “You’re a fucking vision in this dress…” he breathed out, voice trailing off as he reached around and let one finger begin to trace up the zipper of the dress, the sudden soft and deliberate touch causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Stepping behind you, Jake took the toggle between two fingers and began to pull the zipper down, continuing, “…and you’re such a fucking vision when I take it off of you…”

You bit your lip, moaning softly at Jake’s words as he helped you out of your outfit. The dress fell to the floor, pooling around your ankles, leaving you completely naked in front of Jake. You hadn’t worn any panties, knowing exactly how that little surprise would affect your boyfriend— and Jake’s sudden utterance of a soft, nearly breathless “Fuck. Goddamn,” from behind you made it clear that you’d achieved the exact result you were hoping for.

Turning back to face him, your body was struck with a staggering wave of arousal when you laid eyes on his expression.

Desire. Unadulterated, overwhelming desire.

It was in the hunger in his eyes, the determination in his gaze. It was in the way his chest was heaving with anticipation, the way he licked his lips as he took you in. It was in the way his hands immediately fell to tug his uncomfortably tight pants all the way down. And, God, most dizzying of all, it was more than evident in the large bulge that now openly strained through the front of Jake’s black boxer briefs.

You were standing at the edge of the bed as Jake approached you, his gaze intense, heat and arousal radiating from his body, intoxicating every one of your senses. The anticipation was agonizing. You could hardly take it any longer.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, the words coming out even more desperate than you had intended. “Take me…. I need it. Please.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow, smirking deviously. His voice was rough and low when he spoke again. “Oh, you need it? Is that why my baby was being such a dirty little tease tonight? Because you just need it so bad?”

A soft whine escaped your lips, your whole body trembling in anticipation of pleasure. “I need it so bad, Jakey… I’m soaked for you. Please…”

At the sound of your admission, Jake’s teeth sunk into his lower lip and he let out a soft, low sound that made you shudder with arousal. “Yeah? That little pussy’s all soaked for me already?” Jake asked almost patronizingly, and your head spun with need, letting yourself nod desperately and begin to whimper out another plea— but Jake cut you off, smirking, as he breathed out, “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

And all of a sudden, Jake was kissing you as though his life depended on it.

Your boyfriend was suddenly over you, his firm, strong body pushing you onto the bed underneath him, his hands grabbing and caressing at every inch of your exposed skin as they traveled downwards, getting closer and closer to your aching pussy.

“Please, please…” you were whining into his kiss, bucking your hips to encourage him to continue on as he forced himself to pull back from your lips, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth as he did so.

“Let’s see just how needy this little cunt is…” Jake began, pulling your thighs open with large hands, your mouth dropping open wide with lust as he moved you around so effortlessly. Spread wide to him, exposed, there was nothing you could do to hide the fact that you were already dripping down your thighs. At the sight of you, Jake’s mouth dropped open to mirror your own.

“Oh, fuck. Goddamn, baby. You weren’t kidding… this pussy really is crying for me…” Jake began to drag his fingers up your inner thigh, setting you even further alight everywhere he touched. “Oh, and she’s been so patient… waiting like such a good girl… Let me give her what she needs.”

All of a sudden, expert fingers were slipping right between your legs, gathering your arousal before moving straight to your clit, stroking it at a steady, fast rhythm that made you cry out instantaneously.

Jake’s fingers were so persistent, so relentless. Your breath caught in your throat, your mouth falling open involuntarily, words attempting to form but fading fast, dying on your lips as his fingertips traced devastatingly quick circles over your already aching clit.

“Ohh… What's wrong, baby? Nothing left to say now?” Jake’s voice was low, his tone like velvet, his eyes never once leaving your body writhing underneath him, the way your expression shifted in response to his touch. “A little less mouthy when you’ve got my hand between your legs…”

A sound resembling a whine escaped your lips, and Jake chuckled, a sound so low and raspy that sent shivers all the way up and down your spine. “God, baby, you sound so pretty when you’re falling apart…” With his thumb still tracing and playing with your clit, Jake let one long finger start to tease at your entrance, his lips parting with satisfaction when you let out another breathy moan.

“Fuck, please,” you managed, the words coming out shaky, needy; and Jake let out a soft groan at the sound of your obvious desparation, gritting his teeth together for a moment in a way that betrayed the depth of his own desire.

“Please what, pretty girl? Come on, baby… use your filthy little words, let me hear it…”

Your back arched, his calloused thumb rolling across your most sensitive spot again and again, all in conjunction with the way he was encouraging your neediness— it was sending jolts of electricity straight to your core, your brain growing lightheaded. Thoughts whirling, pleasure building, you were finally able to find your words, though you hardly recognized your own voice through the heavy fog of desire that had fully overtaken your every inch.

“Fuck… give it to me, Jake… need those fingers deep inside me, fucking me hard, just how I like it… please, baby… I need it so bad…”

Jake’s resulting groan at your words left your eyes damn near rolling back into your head— and while you managed to hold your composure for a moment, once Jake’s heavy-lidded eyes darkened, holding your gaze with lust-blown pupils and groaning out, “God, you beg so sweet, baby,” and sliding not one but two fingers deep into your cunt— all hope was lost. You were long gone.

He didn’t hesitate; maybe he’d lost his patience for teasing. The speed and intensity with which his fingers immediately began to hammer into you, paired with the continuous motion of his thumb strumming your clit, was earth-shattering. Your back arched further off the bed as you cried out a trembling, “Oh, fuck, Jake…” which drew a sharp inhale and a husky chuckle from the man hovering over you.

“Goddamn… yeah, moan for me, sweet girl, lemme hear it…” Jake’s voice was raspy, urging you on, every word sending sparks straight to your core as he worked your pussy just right, his agile fingers seemingly hitting every sweet spot at once while curling and stroking deep within you. You were seeing stars. He’d only just started finger-fucking you, and already, already he was taking you on a fast track straight to the edge of oblivion— all with just one hand. Your moans had grown desperate, needy, increasing in pitch and volume as you felt yourself beginning to lose control.

“Oh my god… oh my god… Jake… fuck, right there…”

His face hovered over yours, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark as he smirked in that way that always left you feeling a little lightheaded. You were struggling to keep your eyes open through the haze of your impending orgasm as Jake said, voice soft and thick with desire, “I know, baby… this was what you fucking wanted… I know exactly how to fuck this pretty pussy, huh?” At his words, you instantly and involuntarily clenched around his thrusting fingers, and Jake let out a husky laugh that turned into a groan, cursing a soft “Shit…” under his breath. Unable to respond out loud, you were nodding in response to his question immediately, your mouth falling open into a silent scream as the heat began to build in your lower stomach. His mouth fell open, mirroring your own expression, with his gaze directly on you. “Goddamn, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me already? Does this sweet pussy need to cum that bad?” His fingers were unyielding, slamming into you again and again, his thumb sweeping over your clit at a speed perfectly in rhythm with his thrusts. You were so close, so close…

All of a sudden, Jake’s free hand wrapped around the base of your throat, holding it firm. His voice was somehow both commanding and almost needy when he growled out, “Then cum now. Right fucking now. Soak these fucking fingers.”

The overwhelming, head-spinning tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you instantaneously. Shudders wracked your body as you cried out a weak, trembling, “Fuck, Jake…!” clenching down around him and soaking his fingers exactly the way he had told you to. Jake’s soft, amorous groans and breathy curses served as a spine-tingling backdrop to the way he kept his pace straight through your orgasm, prolonging and heightening every feeling, every sensation. You were left whimpering, moaning, entirely losing yourself in the overwhelming bliss, and Jake’s heavy-lidded, hungry eyes remained on you. Drinking you in. Savoring your pleasure as though it was his own.

After an inestimable amount of time, you finally found yourself beginning to come to your senses as the last few intense shivers coursed through you. Jake released his grip on your neck and slowed the pace of his fingers to a halt as you caught your breath, opening your eyes to gaze at him with dazed astonishment and unbridled desire— and the look in his eyes alone was enough to already send yet another shock of arousal straight down your spine, even as your heart still pounded in your chest and your hands still trembled with the aftershocks of your first orgasm. It was practically indefinable, the effect that he had on you.

“Fuck, baby… you did so good for me, sweet girl…” Jake was sighing, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing them to his lips. Your mouth dropped open instinctively, watching him through a haze of arousal as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you as he groaned around his own digits, dragging his fingers along his tongue as he pulled them from his mouth, licking his lips. “This pussy is fucking breathtaking…” the words fell from his lips thick with desire, and another shudder coursed through your body, causing Jake to raise his eyebrows at you and cock his head, chuckling darkly. “Oh… my pretty girl likes when I talk about her little cunt, doesn’t she…?”

You were nodding without thinking, your head already swimming at the thought of what was still to come. Jake’s dark eyes were still on you, his gaze intense and his pupils blown wide with lust, as he continued, “That’s what I thought… and it seems to me… that this desperate, needy little pussy still isn’t satisfied…” A soft whimper escaped from the back of your throat, and Jake let out another soft, husky laugh. “I know, my sweet girl… that felt so good… but it wasn’t enough, was it…?” You were shaking your head, heat already beginning to build between your thighs once again as you bit down on your lower lip.

Jake was smirking, before letting his expression grow serious as he leaned in. “You need my cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” You moaned out loud without even thinking, and the hunger in Jake’s eyes intensified even further, making your mind reel and your body shiver. “That’s a really pretty moan, baby…” Jake went on, “...but I need my pretty little slut to use her words if she wants me to fill her up…” Your eyes rolled back a bit, so overcome with arousal that it took a moment for you to rediscover your own capacity for speech.

“God, fucking please, Jake,” you gasped, your tone shaky and needy, and Jake groaned a bit under his breath, his cheeks flushed and his forehead damp with sweat as he hovered over you. “I’m so fucking desperate. Need you to fuck me. Please. God, please.” Your pussy was practically throbbing with need all over again, and the smirk on Jake’s face made it clear that he could tell— his own desire made abundantly clear in far more than just his gaze as he raised himself up onto his knees from where he was hovering over you, bringing your attention directly to the large bulge straining through the front of his black boxer briefs.

Your jaw dropped, dumbstruck, as his own hand slid down his body, from his tanned, firm chest to his soft tummy and further down, before wrapping around his clothed cock and giving it a squeeze, as a soft, low sound somewhere between a hum and a growl escaped from the back of his throat. “Oh… does my baby need my cock?” Jake asked in a tone that was almost patronizing, sending jolts of arousal directly between your legs as you nodded breathlessly. “Yeah? You need me to fuck you hard with this thick cock?”

You were trembling all over again, practically at a loss for words as you nodded up at him, whimpering a final, desperate “Please.” Jake bit his lip, your eyes locking as he nodded at you in a manner that looked like a promise. His hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs, keeping his gaze directly on you, watching your expression hungrily as he pulled them down with one sharp tug. The sound that escaped your lips was downright obscene as your gaze fell to take him in. No matter how many times you laid eyes on Jake’s cock, he still left you goddamn speechless. Thick, hard, and slick with precum, the sight alone was enough to render you essentially wordless with sheer need. Your gaze traveled over him. The coins dangling from his necklace hung enticingly over his heaving chest, his hair falling angelically over his shoulders as he gave his cock another squeeze, this time without even a thin barrier of fabric in the way— and his eyes fluttered a bit as he took in a sharp inhale, your mind reeling at the way the involuntary response betrayed his obvious desire. And after a moment of heart-stopping, delicious anticipation, the tension burst.

All of a sudden, Jake was over you again, taking your thigh in his left hand, grabbing at it with his large fingers and spreading your legs open even wider, an involuntary moan falling from your lips at the way he was manhandling you. His face hovered above yours as his right hand worked his cock, lining it up in front of your entrance, his mouth falling open to mirror the way your jaw had dropped with overwhelming need. When he spoke, his voice was husky and low. “Don’t worry, sweet girl… I’m going to fuck you exactly how you need it.”

You barely had time to process his filthy words before he was rubbing the head of his cock up and down your pussy, not only teasing you but also himself, causing the both of you to let out overlapping moans as you grabbed at him. The need, the ache, the throbbing desire was so intense it was practically painful— you could hardly take it anymore. Voice breaking with desperation, you whimpered out, “Fuck, Jake… fill me up, baby, please… stretch me out, I need your cock, baby… please… please…”

Jake groaned, letting out a raspy, “My beautiful little slut… god, you beg so pretty… gonna give it to you… gonna give my baby what she needs.” And before you had another moment to beg, Jake was pushing all the way in, his fat cock stretching out every inch of your dripping pussy, causing you to let out a cry of utter ecstasy as your back arched up off the bed. The long, breathy groan that he let out simultaneously had you practically lightheaded, his lips parting with bliss at the feeling of burying himself within you.

He didn’t tease, didn’t hold back. Perhaps it was because he shared in the desperation you were feeling; the burning desire, the ineffable force pulling the two of you closer together. Jake pulled his hips back, before slamming back into you in one solid thrust, using the entire force of his body weight. The pleasure was so immediate and so overwhelming that you saw stars, unable to hold back a moan that could only be described as pornographic, as Jake’s grip on your thigh tightened. His free hand found your shoulder, pressing down and pinning you to the mattress as he began to hammer into you at a pace that left your eyes rolling back, getting leverage from the tightness of his grip and the steadiness of his rhythm.

“Fucking goddamn, my baby takes it so well… every fucking inch I’ve got for you…” Jake was groaning, gritting his teeth as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto yours. You were whimpering at his pace, begging him not to stop, curses falling from your lips again and again. Layered underneath your overlapping voices, the room echoed with the sound of skin against skin, Jake’s firm pelvis and soft tummy smacking up against you with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, Jakey, feels so good,” you were gasping, wrapping your legs around him to allow him to hit even deeper— and when he hit the perfect angle, hammering up against your sweet spot with every thrust at an expertly kept rhythm, you cried out again, even louder this time, clenching involuntarily around Jake’s cock and making him groan. You hardly recognized your own shaky, desperate voice as you whimpered a broken, “Oh, God, just like that…”

“Yeah? Just like that?” Jake encouraged darkly, his own building pleasure evident in the heaviness of his breaths, the redness of his cheeks, the way his beautiful hair grew damp with sweat. “My good girl loves getting fucked like a slut…” his words causing another strangled moan to escape you as he continued, “Fuck, you’re squeezing my fucking dick, baby… You’re getting close, aren’t you? Is my pretty, dirty girl gonna cum again…?”

You were nodding as hard as you could, barely able to speak through the overwhelming pleasure. Heat was building in your core, fueled not only by Jake’s hard thrusts but also his penetrating gaze and breathy, raspy moans. “Don’t stop,” you found yourself whining, your grip on Jake tightening as you threw your head back, so overcome that you squeezed your eyes shut, struggling to find the words. “So close, fuck, feels so good…”

“Shit, this fucking pussy…” Jake was moaning, growing more breathless by the moment. You knew the indicative signs; the furrowing of his brows, the shift in his rhythm, the way his raspy tone transformed into something almost desperate. You weren’t the only one getting close, and when your gaze met his again, you saw the need and recognition in his eyes— he knew that you could tell his own proximity to the edge.

“Inside me,” you whimpered, answering a question he hadn’t yet verbalized, and Jake groaned, nodding hard as you continued, “Want you to fill me up, Jakey, please…”

“Gonna make you mine… gonna fill this sweet fucking cunt,” Jake’s voice was practically trembling through its huskiness, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and flushed cheeks as he thrusted into you again and again. “Gonna fuck my baby full as she’s cummin’ on my cock—”

“Fuck, please,” you were moaning, practically sobbing, feeling yourself grow closer and closer, the pleasure growing more intense by the moment— and as if reading your mind, Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his expert fingers circling your clit at a truly devastating speed. Within seconds of having both his fingers and cock spoiling your pussy all at once, you lost all control. You were suddenly overtaken by a level of bliss that was damn near incomprehensible, practically screaming Jake’s name as you gushed onto his cock, clenching uncontrollably around him. At this, Jake’s eyes rolled back and he groaned out the most beautiful string of expletives as he gave you exactly what you wanted, filling your cunt with his cum and maintaining his pace to ensure that your mutual orgasms lasted as long as possible.

You clung to Jake as you rode out your high, struck by wave after wave of full-body pleasure that was only amplified by the symphony of moans and breathy curses falling from Jake’s lips, the way he was gasping and sighing as the two of you, slowly but surely, began to come down from the peak of bliss. Finally, Jake collapsed onto you, sighing with satisfaction and burying his face in your neck. After only a moment, he was peppering soft, chaste kisses across your skin, in every spot he could reach. Giggling, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, which had grown damp in his exertion. It must have been at least a minute or two before you were able to find your words, and even then, all you were able to manage at first was, “Holy shit, Jake.”

Jake let out a giggle of his own against your neck, and your heart swelled as he lifted his head to look at you. Those warm brown eyes, melting you all over again, held your gaze with so much affection as he grinned, shaking his head incredulously. “Wow. God, baby… you’re unbelievable.”

“Guess I should tease you more often, then,” you giggled, reaching up to catch Jake’s chin between your fingers as he smiled playfully at you.

“Well, after that, I’m definitely not saying no…” Jake teased back, making you grin cheekily in response.That was when he leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing you tenderly, softly. Lovingly.

You were overcome by how much you cared about him. How safe he made you feel. Throughout the kiss, you couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of Jake’s heartbeat, pressed up against yours. Beating in time.

When he finally pulled back, it took a moment for you to be able to come back to yourself, to open your eyes again. Jake was gazing at you with such reverence, such awe.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, reaching out to trace a finger along your cheekbone, making you giggle shyly, heat rising in your cheeks all over again.

“Oh, Jake…” you sighed breathlessly, placing your hand over his where it rested cupping your cheek. “I love you. So much more than I could ever put into words.”

His smile was radiant. “I love you, baby… and I find new reasons to fall for you every day.” He leaned in to kiss you once more, and this one was even slower, sleepier. It was a kiss that felt like home.

After a long while of losing yourself in Jake’s lips, you felt yourself starting to grow drowsy, sleepiness beginning to beckon to you. Jake’s touches were soft, gentle. You couldn’t help it; he was just such a calming presence.

“I want to stay just like this,” you murmured, yawning a bit after your words before adding, “Someone made sure I was all tired out…” making Jake giggle affectionately as he pressed more gentle kisses to your cheeks.

Jake’s voice was soft when he replied, smiling between his tender kisses, “I think that can be arranged, baby.”

Feeling so held, so warm in his embrace, you closed your eyes, cuddling into Jake, breathing him in. Between soft kisses and whispered nothings, it wasn’t long before the two of you fell asleep, fully intertwined. Ready for whatever adventure tomorrow had in store.

TAGLIST: @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gold-mines-melting @texas-bbq-pringles @mountain-in-springtime @alwaysonthemend @tripthelightfatality @runwayblues @shutupdevvie @godly-sinsx @sacredjake @ignite-my-fire @kiska-enthusiast @songbirds-sweet @via-fm @wetkleenex-gvf @jaketsparrow @rhythm-of-space @the-starcatcher @fuckyoutommie @earthlysorrows @ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @jenniferkiszka @hollyco @starcatcher-jake @lipstickitty @iamawhoreandnotproud @kissthesun-gvf @vanfleeter @mybussyinchrist @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @psychedelicstardust-gvf @readyforthegarden

Author's Note: If you want to be added to my taglist, you can do that right here! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰 All my love, Li xoxo

#jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #li speaks #writing tag

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dropsnectar · 5 months ago

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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed.

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help.

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours.

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind.

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately.

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men.

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder.

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?”

Renas face changed into a smirk.

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?”

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked.

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate.

Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it.

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply.

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell.

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth!

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it.

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance.

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it.

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual.

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting.

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?”

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith.

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men.

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone.

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?”

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy.

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets.

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #terat0philliac #teratophillia #bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #bee hybrids x reader #monster romance #bee monster #monster fluff #fluff

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scuderiasundays · 2 years ago

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chili’s angels

summary: carlos can’t say no to his little girls, leaving him with some explaining to do on media day + a little insta au at the end 🌶️

words: 806

a/n: this one was in my drafts for a while but i brought it out for @thatsdemko and all the dad! carlos girlies out there. i know there are a lot of you! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

When Y/N found out she was pregnant with twin girls, Carlos was over the moon. He had been raised by a vivacious mother and alongside two sisters, who despite driving him mad as a child, had become his closest confidantes. Carlos stopped wearing the Tom Ford cologne you once loved when it started to trigger your nausea. He rushed to a nearby drive-through at midnight solely to satisfy your craving for fries and a milkshake. And when your shoelaces needed tying, he was always there to help.

“I feel like I’m asking way too much of you,” you spoke. He smiled and gently caressed your growing belly. "Never, mi amor. Taking care of you and our girls is my purpose now," he said tenderly. "You're an amazing mom already, and I can't wait to see our daughters grow up with the same strength and love that you have."

You had held off on naming the twins because you strongly felt you owed it to your daughters to meet them and get an actual feel for their energies. Together, you spent an evening brainstorming a list of potential names, Carlos voicing a particular preference for their names starting with the same letter. Labor proved to be more challenging than anyone had ever prepared you for, leaving you drained once it was over. Carlos cradled the newborns in his arms, softly uttering their names, "Melina" and "Mila," while his gaze shifted from one little face to the other.

Flash forward, and your twin daughters thought the world of their dad. You loved getting to see Carlos in a new light, your love for him only growing as you watched him interact with your girls. "Can we go outside and play? Please!" Melina and Mila were like the Energizer Bunny times two on the rare weekends when Carlos was home. Although he rarely said no to them, they were both feeling under the weather, so he shook his head. "How about we stay inside and do some drawing?" he suggested.

"Can we paint your nails? Mamá always lets us," the girls asked, their eyes widening as they edged closer to him. Carlos paused for a moment, thinking, what harm could it do? Eventually, he nodded in agreement. The girls knew exactly where their mother kept her nail polish kit and eagerly fetched the equipment. "We have Barbie pink and Ferrari red, just like our cars," Melina said, holding up the bottles with her pudgy fingers. "Mama wears the red one when we watch you drive on TV," Mila chimed in. He assumed Melina was referring to the little toy LaFerraris he had bought the girls on their birthday. He loved watching the girls as they raced in their garden, a tangible sign they had inherited his passion for cars.

"What's that thing you always say, Papá? For the Ferrari?" Mila looked up at her dad with chocolate brown eyes. "Forza Ferrari, mija," Carlos replied. Before he could even pick a color, Melina grabbed his hand and started painting his thumbnail bright red. The girls both had a hard time staying within the lines, so Carlos took it upon himself to clean up the edges. After they were done, he was instructed to place each hand under the UV lamp. He couldn’t help but wonder if the nail polish would come off easily later, but he soon noticed the excitement of being nail artists had worn the twins out. He picked them up and gently laid them down for a nap.

As Carlos boarded his flight to Hungary, he realized that his red manicure was not coming off without a fight. He absentmindedly picked at his nails, silently wishing his wife had been there to offer him the mini nail file she always carried. With media day approaching, he knew that people would definitely pick up on his vibrant nails.

"Nice nails, Carlos. Whose handiwork is this?" Natalie, a familiar face, pointed at his hands with a smile. Carlos chuckled and replied, "Oh, this masterpiece? My twin daughters painted them. I just don’t know how to say no to those two." He shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, here they are to say hello.” The TV presenter had organized a surprise Zoom call with Y/N and Carlos' daughters, who had been nicknamed "Chili’s Angels" by his fans.

"Buenos días, mis hijas. I hope you're feeling better," he greeted them, waving at the camera. Melina proudly held up her mom's hand, showcasing her red nails. "Look! You and Mamá match now!" she exclaimed. Carlos winked at his wife, grateful for the little moment of connection despite the distance.

"Forza Ferrari, Papá!" Mila squealed, waving goodbye. “They really are my angels, all three of them,” he thought, setting off a mental countdown of days until he was back in their arms again.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 57,575 others

carlossainz55: life is sweeter with my angels. hope i’m making you proud 🫶🏼

yourusername: we’re so lucky to have you! you just had to choose THAT photo of mila scarfing down her pizza? clearly my genes 🍕🤤

fan1: chili’s angels merch when? i swear i will buy it ALL

landonorris: ask melly and milly who their favorite uncle is and i’ll let you by at the start on sunday!

carlossainz55: “come over, uncle lando! we can paint your nails orange.” - melina & mila sainz

anasainzvdec: the most adorable nieces an aunt could wish for ❤️

scuderiaferrari: when mila said “forza ferrari” in an interview this morning! who’s cutting the damn onions?

fan2: carlos and @yourusername are starting them off young 🥹

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz edit #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #f1 x you #carlos sainz fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz fic #dad carlos

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bunabi · 1 month ago

Note

Thank you for saying that people have a right to mourn Veilguard. I've seen a lot of vitriol directed at those who were disappointed with the game. That we're entitled, media illiterate, or blinded by nostalgia. And while I definitely think some go overboard with their criticism, I think the people who don't want to admit the game has massive flaws are actually doing a lot more harm.

We all know how terribly EA has treated their employees. That's why so many people have left, not because they don't care about Dragon Age anymore, but because the working conditions were (apparently) unbearable. And like you said, even the devs are mourning what the game could have been! That's why I think it's a good thing that there's been a lot of public criticism of the game. This behavior by EA (and other studios too!) should not be rewarded.

To be real? I don't think EA is the boogeyman its made out to be.

Not to take a bullet for Aussie Daddy Andrew Wilson but everything I've heard (professors, peers, Bioware itself in a handful of interviews) confirms that they're actually pretty hands-off. Administrative level orders like company-wide layoffs or approving/denying funding, yeah. Creative decisions during development and overall studio management maybe not as much.

This user is an EA Partner etc etc full disclosure but I think the truth is honestly complicated. Not saying all publishers are precious and blameless and can do no wrong, but I think there's more to it. We'll learn more about what exactly happened eventually, I'm sure. Kinda dreading it. 😭

Me personally I think they were struggling to get Joplin greenlit. Especially since early concepts don't mention any multiplayer plans (dunno how successful DAI's was but it was a neat selling point and made a little extra money I'm sure). By late 2015 DA4 was still unconfirmed, even if they started brainstorming ideas as early as Trespasser, even after their Game of The Year win with Inquisition. And in early 2016 they showed what looked like a pitch doc with a rook and wolf icon on it. So maybe instead of letting DA get shelved for god knows how many years someone offered it as a live service to sweeten the deal and get the go-ahead. My thoughts, I just paint, I'm bald, etc.

#if im wrong and smoking copium i'll rivalmance Anders (fate worse than death)#veilguard critical #not really ??? but just in case #replies

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sheerfreesia007 · 16 days ago

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His Clumsy Klutz

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Word count: 1,727

Content warnings: Fluff, injury, mentions of wounds, mentions of burns, near fatal car accident

Summary: Chan is your guardian angel and he has his work cut out for him with the clumsiest person in the world. He tries his best every day to keep you out of harm’s way.

A/N: This little series was all inspired due to @jellymochii brainstorming for her GaurdianAngel!Felix fic. Please go read her fic as well it’s a wonderful piece!

The sound of your loud blaring alarm rang through your apartment and Chan sighed softly as he moved into your bedroom and saw you still sleeping on your stomach with your legs and arms thrown out from your body in a starfish image. He chuckled softly as he gently grazed his fingers along your temple as he moved to the side of your bed where your cell phone sat on your end table.

”C’mon sleepyhead time to wake up.” He said with a slight push of power through his finger effectively waking you up pulling a loud gasp from your throat.

”Fucking hell.” You groaned out loudly and Chan frowned at you.

”Language.” He scolded softly as he watched you slowly press up onto your knees and hands before blearily reaching out for your cellphone to stop the alarm. He gently pushed your cellphone closer to your reaching hand and smiled proudly when you were able to end the alarm. You move to get out of bed as Chan walks around your room checking to make sure that there isn’t anything in your way that you could trip over but he hears a loud thud from behind him. Whirling around he finds you sprawled out on the floor next to your bed with your bedsheets wrapped around your legs.

”Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” You said softly and Chan sighed loudly as he raised his hand to his forehead.

”I swear, you’re gonna put me further into my grave. Don’t know how that’s possible but I’m sure you’d figure out a way to do it.” He huffed out amusedly before walking back over to you and gently tugging the sheets from your legs. “Now c’mon get up before you’re late.” He chastised you.

”Alright, alright. I get it.” You say goodnaturedly as you pull the sheets from around your legs and chuckle softly before flinging them back onto your bed behind you. “I’m gonna be late, I get it.” You say with an eye roll and Chan mimics kicking his leg at you as you rush towards your bathroom to get ready for the day. Shaking his head Chan sighs softly only walking out of your bedroom once he hears the shower turn on.

*-*-*-*

The corner of the street is unusually busy this morning on your walk to work. Chan’s keeping pace with you as you weave in and out of the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk just as you come to a stop not far from the corner behind a large crowd waiting for the walking signal to change. He sees it happen in slow motion just as he’s walking up to your left side which is closest to the road, a middle aged man in too much of a rush this morning barrels through you and you go teetering to the left thanks to the man’s shoulder slamming into your own.

Chan uses every ounce of power he has within him to carefully catch you in his arms stopping you from falling into the road just as a fast speeding sportscar drives by. You gasp loudly as a feeling of warmth encases you and your head snaps up to stare at Chan unseeingly. Quickly you right yourself and Chan eases himself next to you feeling slightly drained from using almost all of his power to save you from a fatal accident.

“Oh my gosh. Thank you.” You whispered out as your wide eyes darted around the sidewalk as if you were looking for him. He knew you couldn’t feel him anymore and were trying to get some reassurance but he didn’t have the energy to give you that warmth again. He then watched as you internally brushed yourself off and begin your walk towards work once more, but just as he watched you turn he spotted the slight teariness in your eyes and felt himself slump tiredly as he followed you. It was a close call, almost too close and he realized that he wasn’t ready for you to join him on this side yet.

*-*-*-*

During your shift at work Chan tries to gather his strength as quickly as he possibly can but doesn’t over do it because he knows that you still have the walk home from work later. He manages to stop you from slamming the back of your head on the underside of your desk, catching your fingers in the metal filing cabinet, and landing on your ass when your desk chair rolled away from you.

But as he follows you into the break room for your last coffee break of the day he feels a sense of foreboding come over him and he tries to rush into the break room after you. You’re reaching for the coffee pot when your coworker comes walking in looking for a caffeine fix as well. She startles you as your hand grabs onto the coffee pot and your hand swings towards yourself in your surprise, the bottom of the coffee pot where the hot liquid sits comes in contact with your opposite arm and you cry out in pain as the heat from the liquid and coffee pot scald your arm causing a red burn to form on your skin. You drop the coffee pot and it shatters on the floor splashing the hot liquid on your shins and the glass shards cut into your feet that aren’t protected by your shoes.

Chan stares there in shock as he watches you and your coworker move about trying to cool the burn on your arm as well as wipe away the hot liquid on your legs while being careful of the glass shards that are still embedded in the tops of your feet. We were doing so well today, Chan thought as he watched the scene unfold around him standing there powerless as he watched with wide eyes.

He sees your grimace as you shift on your feet and he sighs softly before hanging his head knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you now since it’s already happened. He watches avidly as your coworker puts cooling gel on your burn before wrapping your arm in gauze and bandages. You then work on removing the glass shards and putting bandaids on the cuts before making sure that the liquid hadn’t scalded your legs as well.

When he sees that you’re for the most part alright he walks with you back to your desk and sits on top of your desk looking down at you as you stare quietly at the computer screen with a furrowed brow.

”I’m sorry.” You whisper softly and Chan feels his heart thud in his chest heavily. “That one was bad. I’m sorry.” You whisper dejectedly and Chan sighs softly at your words knowing that you’d beat yourself up for the rest of the evening about how much of a klutz you were. He lays a gentle hand on your shoulder and pushes out some warmth to you causing you gasp softly before a soft begrudging smile graces your face. He knows that this was the only thing he can do for you to reassure you everything was okay, he just hoped it would be enough for you right now.

*-*-*-*

The rest of the evening is quiet and uneventful, your walk home was easy for once and Chan didn’t have to step in and help you or guide you in anyway which was a nice change. Picking up dinner on your way home was even easier than normal and Chan silently thanked the heavens above that they were cutting you some slack.

When you returned home you tiredly slipped out of your work shoes before padding around your apartment setting out your dinner in the living room in front of the television before getting changed into more comfortable clothes. You finally settle on the couch to eat your dinner and Chan watches from his spot on the other end of your couch as your new favorite drama plays while you laugh softly and eat your dinner.

Not long after you finish your food you get up from your spot on the couch and stretch widely before you take your dishes to the sink to clean them and leave them out to dry overnight. Chan then follows you to your bedroom and watches with a fond smile on his face as you slowly shuffle towards your bed and fall into it face first with a loud sigh leaving your tired body. He had made sure that you cleaned your burn and redressed it before you came to bed and had swapped the bandaids on your feet as well. He didn’t want you getting an infection and then finally meeting him on the other side.

As he leans against your doorframe he smiles tiredly as he watches you start to fall asleep and turns to take his own rest when he hears your soft voice call out to him.

”Thank you for watching out for me today.” You say softly and sleepily and Chan smiles fondly at you as he feels the connection that the two of you share pulse with power. Every once in a while when you’ve had a particularly rough day you’ll talk to him and it only strengthens the bond and connection that’s between the two of you. “I know it’s not an easy job being my guardian angel. But I just want you to know that I appreciate you and all your hard work.” You whisper out to him in the dark bedroom and Chan feels his heart thud heavily once more in his chest. He swallows quickly as he feels tears spring to his eyes, he’s moving swiftly across the bedroom and leans over you to press a gentle warm kiss to your temple infused with warmth that makes you smile adoringly as you hum at him.

”I’ll always be here for you. I’ll make sure that you’re safe.” He promises quietly as he hears your breath even out and slumber pulls you into her embrace for the night. Turning from you then he slowly walks out of the room ready for his well deserved rest for the evening knowing that he wouldn’t ever give up his job of looking over you. Especially when it was his most prized job in this afterlife.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

#my writing #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #bang chan #bang chan x reader

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netherfeildren · 1 year ago

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At the Restaurant

The LOVE Collection:

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC

Summary: It’s two days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Written in 'You' Format; Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references

A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.

I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨

Word Count: 8.2K

Read on AO3

At the Restaurant

He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him.

It’s two days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it.

He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself.

“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.

You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine.

Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good.

And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you.

It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.

Again, like you’d said, bad for each other.

But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway.

Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him.

He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.

You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.

You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention.

And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here.

So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be.

You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it.

He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him.

He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it.

The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu.

The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please.

The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge?

“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”

And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely.

But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.

He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.

“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point.

“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.”

“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you.

“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”

You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one.

You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore.

You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore.

He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there.

You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence.

“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up.

“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.

He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”

“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long.

He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”

“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of.

He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return.

Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger.

You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side.

“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing.

“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt.

“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough.

“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom.

“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.”

You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about.

He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his.

“What do you want, sweet girl?”

And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that.

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm.

He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him.

His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this.

He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him.

“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others.

You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here.

He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.

He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth.

“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.

He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart.

Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him.

When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can.

You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had.

He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary.

He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins.

“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake.

“It– it was in your drawer. I–”

“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and his parents. Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him.

“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice.

He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.

“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside.

You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence.

You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.

“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.

You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”

“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”

“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.

“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time.

“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”

“Yes, Din. I remember.”

“That was a good night.”

“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain.

He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart.

He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”

And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing.

Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless.

“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.

Part 2: Cannibals

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#vic fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin AU #din djarin modern AU #the mandalorian AU #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #pedro pascal characters #din djarin angst #ATR fic #din djarin x oc #din djarin x you

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in1-nutshell · 1 month ago

Note

I would like to request juno having the sparkling at the worst time and place

Highly requested and now here!

Yes, I know that Bots cant have sparklings like humans do. Yes, I did this pregnancy loosely based off of human pregnancy.

Hope you enjoy!

Juno and the sparkling

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Romance, Mentions of pregnancy and birth but nothing too graphic, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

The ship was buzzing with excitement and anxiousness.

Juno’s due date was coming soon, and all the final preparations were being placed.

Perceptor and Brainstorm made it their job to check that everything was sparkling proof… after checking 50 times that is…

Rodimus was rarely seen too far from Juno.

Did this make his job harder?

Yes, Magnus had already long given up on trying to get him to stay for more than half the day.

Rodimus was uncharacteristically nervous about the sparklings arrival.

Juno, for once, was being the levelheaded one and tried to calm their partner down.

Rodimus had a paintbrush in one servo and several color chips in the other. Juno walks into their shared habsuite and raises and optic. Juno: “Roddy? What are you doing?” Rodimus: “I’m repainting the habsuite.” Juno sighed tiredly. Juno: “Roddy this is the 5th time this week. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rodimus: “But its just not right. How is the sparkling going to fall asleep fast if the colors don’t help her sleep.” Juno: “Help him fall asleep?” Rodimus: “I found some articles on sparklings from Perceptor and Ratchet’s archives. And its she Juno.” Juno: “Nope, it’s he. I can feel it.” Juno takes the brush from his servo and replaces it with their own. Juno: “How about we lay back and watch something?” Rodimus: “But—” Juno: “Do you really want to argue with a heavily sparked bot right now Rodimus?” Rodimus: “… I’ll set the movie up.” Juno: “I’ll get the snacks.”

The arrival of the Scavengers was a welcoming surprise.

Swerve had gotten in contact with Misfire and told him the news.

The rest of their crew wanted to stop by and personally congratulate the pair since they were close by.

No one saw the harm in that.

Juno looks over and spots Spinister. They wave at him as they try to get through the crowd of bots. Juno: “Spinister!” Spinister jumps a bit at the sound of his name but relaxes seeing Juno slightly waddle to him. He walks over and pulls them in a side hug. Spinister: “I leave for a couple cycles and now your sparked. You didn’t waste any time.” Juno chuckled a bit returning the side hug. Juno: “A couple thousand cycles you mean.” They both chuckle a bit. Most of the Scavengers are staring in amazement and concern. Rodimus is just staring at the servos on his Conjunx’s waist. Juno: “Oh you have to see the new built in cameras in the crib Spin! Perceptor did an amazing job in modifying it.” Spinister: “Lead the way.” The pair walk out of the room chatting away leaving a silent room behind. Fulcrum: “Wh-what just happened?” Crankcase: “I second that.” Rodimus gets a strange look on his face and quickly walks after the pair. Krok: “Have you ever—” Misfire: “Seen Spinister so… civil? Not in my lifetime. Bet they used to be a thing.” Perceptor: “Juno remained with little to no contact with most Autobots and Decepticons throughout the war. The likelihood of them meeting Spinister, let alone be courting him is slim to none.” Brainstorm: “… Are you placing any bets?” Perceptor: “Brainstorm!”

This was the hot news now spreading around the ship.

Jumpy, scared of their own shadow Juno was happily chatting with the most trigger happy Decepticon, Spinister.

Rodimus eventually joined them and tried to make a wall in between the Con and Juno.

Occasionally trying to ask questions on how the pair knew each other.

Too bad none of the questions would get answered.

The ship’s alarm went off.

Someone was invading the ship again.

Rodimus tried to get in contact with the others, but communications were down.

As much as it pained him, he sent Juno and Spinister to the med bay.

It would be the safest place for Juno to be in.

Rodimus was surprised when Juno reached out and grabbed his servo.

They had a pleading look on their face.

He almost caved in, but Spinister gently took their servo.

With a silent promise the bots ran off into different directions.

On the way the way to the med bay, Spinister and Juno found the rest of the Scavengers.

They all feezed at the sound of the Empyrean suite began playing in the halls.

Tarn was here…

Everyone quickly ran into the nearest room and locked it.

Too bad they hid one of Brainstorm experimental locked rooms.

The room not only was heavily fortified but had locks thicker than Grimlock’s helm.

Nevertheless, they all started fortifying the room in the worst case scenario.

Everyone pants and vents tiredly. The music sounding a bit closer than before. Everyone hushes down. Fulcrum: “At least it can’t get any worse than this right?” Misfire shots him a glare. Misfire: “You did not just say that.” Fulcrum: “I’m trying humor Misifre.” Crankcase: “Sorry but I’m siding with Fulcrum on this one. It can’t get worse than this.” Misfire: “Literally everything goes wrong when you say that! Right Grimmy?” Grimlock nods in agreement. SPLASH! Juno slowly looks down at the fluids running down their pedes. They frantically tap Spinister’s arm to look. His optics widen significantly. Spinister: “Oh no.” Krok looked over. Krok: “What do you mean—oh Primus now!” Everyone looked over in horror at the fluids on the floor. Misifre: “I told you!”

After the first few moments of terror, Spinister takes control.

Everyone’s servos on deck.

There was a sparkling to be delivered.

Fulcrum, due to his squeamish tanks, was put on communications duty with Crankcase.

Both were trying different channels for anyone to answer.

Grimlock was to make sure the door and all the barricades stayed in place.

He even managed to promise Juno that nothing would get past him.

Misfire would be Juno’s stress ball/ comforter.

His servos were going to need repairs with how hard Juno was squeezing.

Krok would be Spinister’s make do nurse.

Which was mainly passing Spinister things and holding Juno down.

Juno had to be gagged to muffle their screams and cries of pain.

Spinister was doing everything he could to make this a safe birth for the sparkling with the limited supplies around.

Fulcrum managed to get a signal.

Fulcrum: “Hello? Is there anyone there?” Drift: “This is Drift speaking.” Fulcrum: “We are here in one of the rooms close by the med bay and need medical assistance.” Drift: “What happened? Anyone hurt?” Fulcrum: “Well—” Misfire: “Can’t you hold it in?!” Juno angrily spits out their gag. Juno: “YOU TRY HOLDING IN A SPARKLING AS STUBBORN AS THEIR FATHER!!!” Fulcrum: “Did you get that?” Drift: “Oh… Oh sweet Primus its happening! I’ll get medical assistance over—” CLICK! The call had been cut off. Fulcrum sighs tiredly. Misfire: “Put this back—Did you just try and bite me!?” Juno: “I WILL BITE OFF MORE THAN THA—AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!” Meanwhile with Drift… Drift runs to Rodimus and Ratchet’s side as they watch the DJD’s ship fly away. Drift: “Roddy! Ratty! We’ve got to go now! Its Juno!” Rodimus looked at him worried. Rodimus: “What happened?! Are they okay!?” Drift: “I just got off the com with Fulcrum, they are having the sparkling now!” Rodimus: “NOW!?”

Drift and Ratchet had never seen Rodimus look so stressed and barrel through a crowd so fast.

They followed behind him, recruiting First Aid and Velocity on the way.

It took a bit for them to find the right room before Rodimus finally melted the right door with his flaming servos.

Grimlock fully decked him in the face, knocking him out cold.

At least he kept his promise.

Rodimus woke up a few minutes later in the med bay with a smiling Drift above him.

He groaned as he woke, gripping his helm right as the memories of the past few hours came rushing in.

Rodimus quickly jumps up from the med slab and grabs Drift. Rodimus: “Juno! Where’s—" Drift shushes him and leads him to a separate room in the med bay. The Scavengers were there surrounding something while Juno, in the med slab, was talking to Spinister and Ratchet. Rodimus: “Juno!” He quickly ran up to his Conjunx, knelt to their level and gave them a tight hug. Juno chuckled weakly burying their face in his neckcables. Some tears escaped from both parties. Juno pulls away and gesture to the Scavengers. Juno: “I think that there is someone there who wants to meet you.” Rodimus freezes a bit before he slowly walks to the crowd. There is a lot of cooing as the Cons part a way for him to go through. In the little basset was a sparkling. His sparkling. Juno and his sparkling. Rodimus smiles down at the little one. The sparkling smiles back. The bitty had Juno’s smile. Rodimus: “Hey there, its me you father.” He let the sparkling grab his digit. A series of happy chirps and whirls came out. Juno: “Looks like our son likes you. Don’t you Flare?” A son! His little Flare. Rodimus carefully picked up the sparkling and held him to his chassis. They both smiled… then the sparkling sneezed and busted into flames. Everyone screamed in surprise as the flames died down. Rodimus: “HE CAN FLAME OUT!!!” He started twirling around with the laughing sparkling in his grasp. The medics tried to get Rodimus to stop twirling around with the sparkling. The Scavengers were just trying to comprehend what had just happened. Juno’s optic was twitching, already making a mental note to have fire extinguishers at the ready. BANG! The med bay doors flew open as a disheveled Perceptor and Brainstorm vented heavily. Perceptor: “Who was going to tell me Juno had the sparkling?!”

#maccadam #transformers x reader #bot buddy #mtmte x reader #mtmte x platonic reader #juno x rodimus

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dewdropdinosaur · 8 months ago

Text

Baby Don't Hurt Me

LUCIFER X M READER Summary: You and Lucifer were never really a labeled thing until when your very life is at stake, does the King of Hell truly take into account his feelings. Warnings: PG-13 for implied sex, sexual language, vulgar language. For the lovely @pixie-skull REQUESTS OPEN!

In the dark and tumultuous realm of Hell, a sinister yet charismatic figure ruled supreme. Lucifer Morningstar, the embodiment of rebellion, carried himself with a confidence that belied the chaos of his kingdom. At least that is what it looked like to his subjects. Among the twisted landscapes and restless souls, there was one being who managed to capture Lucifer’s true self like no other—Y/N.

Their relationship was an enigma, even to them. Late nights were spent in shadowed alcoves, hidden from the prying eyes of Hell’s denizens. Whispers and stolen glances became their secret language. The thrill of sneaking around, of keeping their connection hidden, added a dangerous allure to their meetings. In the privacy of Lucifer's opulent chambers, they would share moments of passion, both knowing but never saying that there was something more between them.

Neither of them dared to label what they had. It was easier that way. For Lucifer, admitting to love was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford, especially not after Lillith and just getting Charlie back in his life. Y/N, strong and independent, valued their freedom and feared the chains that love might bring in a place like Hell. They reveled in the attention from Lucifer but to admit true feelings might do more harm than good in Hell, especially with all the people who love to take advantage of others. Both men and women alike had only used them so why wouldn't the King of Hell himself, Y/N was convinced, only use them too?

Ye even as the war of love raged on, the forces of Heaven prepared their assault, and Hell and the Hazbin Hotel braced for the inevitable clash. The day of the battle arrived with a ferocity that shook Hell to its core. Angels descended with blinding light and righteous fury, led by the vengeful Adam, Heaven’s warrior. The air was thick with the sounds of clashing weapons and the cries of the damned and divine.

In the midst of the chaos, Lucifer fought, albeit a little late to the party, with a fury born of centuries of defiance. His eyes constantly darted around the battlefield, always finding their way back to Y/N.

Standing utop the roof, sword glinting in the light of the battlefield, Y/N stood guarding a fallen Charlie.

“I would suggest you back the fuck up, Adam.”

“Awww, isn’t this cute, the little lover wants to save Luci's little girl.”

“The closest you get to brainstorming insults Adam is a light drizzle.”

“BITCH!”

Slicing his guitar towards Y/N, they met it with a block. Both parties slashed through the air, perry and block one after the other. Sweat poured down Y/N’s face, their short hair sticking to their face. he moonlight cast a silver sheen over their blades, creating an almost ethereal glow as the two adversaries faced off.

Adam's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "You really think you can stop me, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.

Y/N tightened their grip on their sword, the weight of the steel comforting in their hand. "I won't let you hurt them," they replied, their voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Without another word, Adam lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Y/N parried the blow, the clash of metal ringing out like a thunderclap. Sparks flew as their swords met, the force of the impact sending vibrations up Y/N's arm.

Adam was relentless, his attacks coming fast and furious. Y/N matched him blow for blow, their movements fluid and precise. The two danced a deadly ballet, their swords weaving intricate patterns in the air.

"Impressive," Adam sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "But you're only delaying the inevitable."

Y/N didn't respond, their focus razor-sharp. They could feel the strain in their muscles, the burn of exertion, but they pushed it aside. They couldn't afford to lose focus, not now.

With a sudden burst of speed, Adam feinted to the left and then swung his blade towards Y/N's side. Y/N barely had time to react, twisting their body just in time to avoid a fatal blow. Pain lanced through their side as the tip of Adam's sword grazed their skin, but they gritted their teeth and pressed on.

Using the momentum, Y/N counterattacked, their sword arcing towards Adam's chest. Adam deflected the strike, but Y/N was relentless. They pressed forward, their attacks becoming more aggressive, each swing fueled by their determination to protect Lucifer and Charlie.

For a moment, it seemed like Y/N had the upper hand. Their blade cut through the air with precision, forcing Adam to stay on the defensive. But Adam was cunning, his eyes never leaving Y/N's. He saw an opening, a split-second lapse in Y/N's defense, and he took it.

With a swift, brutal strike, Adam knocked Y/N's sword from their hand. The weapon clattered to the ground, and Y/N stumbled back, breathless. Adam advanced, his sword raised for the final blow.

“Go ahead and cry to your boyfriend, he isn’t here. I will enjoy destroying you, sinner.”

Watching this all unfold, Lucifer's heart clenched—a sensation he hadn’t felt in eons. With a roar that echoed across the battlefield, he unleashed his full power, tearing through the ranks of angels to reach Y/N. He arrived just as Adam’s sword plunged into Y/N’s side, a scream of agony ripping from their lips.

Lucifer’s vision turned red. In a blur of motion, he struck Adam with a force that sent the angel sprawling. Adam, now unconscious under a pile of rubble, laid motionless.

Rushing back to the roof, Lucifer knelt beside Y/N, cradling them in his arms, the world around him forgotten. Blood seeped from the wound, and Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps.

“Stay with me,” Lucifer commanded, his voice breaking in a way it never had before. “You can’t leave me, not now.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a weak smile playing on their lips. “I’m not going anywhere, you stubborn devil.”

Lucifer felt the sting of tears. He pressed his forehead against Y/N’s, a silent plea for them to hold on. As the battle raged around them, he realized the depth of his feelings. This was more than a fleeting connection, more than a casual fling. This was love, raw and undeniable. This man had given him love, passion, kindness, heck even tried to save his own daughter.

“I…I think I love you,” he whispered, the words heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek. “I know. I love you too.”

————————————————

“Lucifer, for Heaven’s sake, it will heal on its own!”

“I know ducky, but please….just let me look at it!”

“No you worried devil, I will be okay!”

Letting out a light chuckle, Y/N laid in Lucifer’s plush bed, surrounded by bandages and pillows. While Lucifer’s concern over his new found love was touching, the constant mothering was a tad annoying but mostly endearing.

“Promise, me ducky?”

“I promise, Puggle, now come cuddle with me!”

With a grin, Lucifer plopped into the bed with Y/N, burying his head into their shoulder. After a moment of silence, Lucifer shifted…and then shifted again.

“Yes, platypus?”

“Um…”

“You wanna make out yes?”

“....only if you are okay with that?”

“Darling, if I ever say no to that question there is a gun in my top dresser drawer. Shoot me with it.”

Stealing his lips into a searing kiss, Y/N tangled their hands into Lucifer’s hair. Rolling ontop of Lucifer, Y/N kept kissing him with fevor. A thousand past kisses didn’t compare to the fiery nature of this single one, it felt like even their fingertips deliciously burned at each other’s touch. Popping the buttons off one by one of Lucifer silk shirt and then removing his own, the dance of tongue and teeth continued. Nips, soft bites, and moans eoched around the spacesou bed room. Tilting his knee up, Lucifer ground his leg into Y/N’s crotch. Lewdness sprung forth from their mouth as they clamped down onto Lucifer’s shoulder.

Outside the doorway, however, was a very concerned Charlie who had been hearing the commotion and was worried about the injured state of Y/N. Softly pushing the door open and immediately regretting her decision, Charlie stood dumbstruck.

“Fuck, just like that Luci, mhmmm….so close.”

“Ducky, come on, come for me!”

“DAD?!”

The scene came to a halt! Caught in a rather…precarious position, Lucifer and Y/N stopped their movements. Throwing the covers swiftlyt over them as Charlie shielded her eyes, all parties stared at each other.

“Eh….Charlie…”

“I’ll knock next time I am so sorry, I was just so worried about Y/N and you and the fight and—”

“Charlie! Its okay. Luci…I guess this is a good a time as any….Charlie dear your father and I are dating—”

“FINALLY!!”

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