#listen he just shouldn’t have been a little creature he’d have been fine then | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skylarsblue · 2 months

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✞Sacrilege✞

Characters: Alexander Abenthy, Vincent Walker Content: Religious Imagery, cult, mentioned child abuse, smut. Small bit of angst, fluff. Worship kink, primal play (for a little), and you know I had to throw in my cannibalistic metaphors. Pictures from Pinterest, divider by @v6que

Note: These are OCs. Alex: Dark brown curly hair, hickory brown eyes, 5'8", average-slightly-thin build, tan skin. Vincent: Black messy hair, powder blue eyes, 6'5", muscular/bulky build, vampire pale-sickly, even.

Vincent wasn’t meant to be there. He shouldn’t have been, he had no tie to the creation of the complex building made in the image of a church. He had no affiliation with higher beings, or lower ones for that matter. He wasn’t blood, he wasn’t made. He was just left alone at the wrong time, and as he’d developed, he grew into the very traits that were sought for by the self-called “prophet”, Alder Forst.

A despicable and foul souled man, if he could be considered a man at all. A pathetic coward would be more fitting if honesty were required. But his ego was big, and he had a gift for speech. That’s all he ever really did, all he could do. Talk, and talk, and talk. Frivolously string together words into frilly promises he could never keep, and to souls more naive and desperate for salvation, that was appealing enough. He wasn’t a wolf in a sheep field, that would be too much credit to bestow upon the unholy man of cloth. More like a rabbit eating its young. Prey eating defenseless creatures, the only blood it could spill was the blood of things even smaller than itself. It wasn’t an impressive hunt. It took no skill and it held no righteousness. He didn’t need their bodies for a feast, he just felt he could. So he did.

Vincent was supposed to be a follower, one with a sad backstory Alder could use as a heartwarming salvation tale. He found this young boy on the streets, hungry and dirty, and brought him to the light. Gaze upon another saved soul, he’d proclaim. And Vincent would owe him his life, then listen to every word he said. Even if Alder would easily forget about him.

Well, that was the original plan. But Vincent was stubborn, even if he was only three when he’d been stolen. He didn’t buy into any of it. Not the Bible’s, he read those just fine. He didn’t hate crosses or even dislike the teachings of Jesus. It was only Alder who he seemed to deny. That could be fixed with time. Children sometimes were defiant, it could be fun sometimes. It didn’t take away from Alder’s image. If anything, sometimes it helped. Not only saving a soul but not giving up when the child was resistant. Persistence was a virtue of patience, as he’d once reassured.

But by the time Vincent was five, Alder noted traits he found…intriguing, for lack of a better word. A less questionable word. Physically, Vincent would clearly grow into a towering figure. He was already so big for his age, even without the nutrition truly required for his growing body. That could prove useful. As could his pension for athleticism and intelligence. But what made Alder so infatuated was simply the boy’s genetics, beyond those “useful” traits. Vincent never liked hearing about it.

Lovely bone structure. Hair always soft to the touch. Skin always smooth and eyes captivating. Burning with a passion of some sort, for life, perhaps.

Alder always said these things with adoration. Spoke about how he’d love to have them in his bloodline, they’d improve his lineage. Things that were spoken like praises made Vincent’s stomach turn, even young, he knew there was something sinister about it. It only strengthened his resolve in being resistant to Alder’s supposed teachings. He’d been constantly planning his escape, however, the one time he tried? Everything went downhill from there. Suddenly, he wasn’t salvageable. Not truly.

“This child is crafted from the hands of sin”, Alder proclaimed. “He is made of everything wretched and his body has been influenced by the devil.”

Vincent was now an example of the evil Alder promised to keep out of the congregation’s lives. He wasn’t seen without being heavily chained, like a rabid animal. Even if he didn’t act that way. Of course, even if they weren’t supposed to, the people asked why they’d keep him at all. He was evil, a minion of the devil. Kill him, slaughter him on the altar, make an example of him. Use his death to show the Devil how they wouldn’t be fooled by youthful cheeks and small bones, show God they wouldn’t fall for such tricks. Alder waived these questions away with a simple response.

“Consider him a long term project. The light of the Lord is powerful, perhaps one day, we could make this demonic child one of God. I ask you all what’s more telling. A sacrifice, or a living example of how potent the Lord’s teachings can be, to transform someone down to the make of their soul.”

They bought it, of course. So, while Vincent was now isolated and despised, he wasn’t harmed. Not unless it was under Alder’s direction. But his face was never seen again. Kept under various masks made specifically for him. Alder made them like gifts, but treated it like a punishment. It was always confusing whether or not Vincent wanted to get them taken off, let himself breathe and feel his skin exposed to the air without restriction. Or if he preferred it on, since every time it was off, it was so Alder could stare at his features like a dog drooling over a bone. Salacious and disgusting. Honestly, Vincent resolved to keep the masks on. However, there were times where he chose to take it off, and that was when Emmett arrived.

Emmett, the blood son of Alder. Therefore, the perfect specimen. He was made of Alder’s DNA, he had to be holy. What was more Godly than the son of the prophet. Alder went on and on about that, just short of calling Emmett the second coming of Jesus. Why he didn’t, Vincent wasn’t sure. Maybe he was actually worried it would finally get him smited for lying.

Regardless, Vincent adored Emmett. He wasn’t sure why he was allowed around the baby, especially since Alder had taught Irene that he was evil, but Vincent never hurt Emmett. He never would’ve dreamed of doing so. Emmett was the sweetest little baby, and he seemed to enjoy Vincent’s presence far more than his parents. Even if he didn’t know Alder’s reasoning, it was one of the few things he didn’t question. Lest Alder take the privilege of spending time with the baby away from him.

Emmett was his family as far as he was concerned. His baby brother.

Emmett was also the only young person in the congregation who didn’t despise or fear him. Even when he tried to be kind. He was allowed to wander the facility, if he was good, of course. He hated being stuck in one place for too long. And while he would’ve preferred lush forests and fields of flowers to roam through, he didn’t have much of a choice. So, he’d “stalk” the halls. Looking for anything to keep his resolve, his aspirations for escape. He wanted freedom and he knew he couldn’t let years of torment break him if he ever wanted to get it. So, he found little things to bring him joy.

An innocent love of the little peeks of life that would find their way into the colorless concrete was his biggest help. Be it a beetle or a bird. His favorite moment was the day he was able to hold a bird in his hands, feel the softness of its feathers and the warmth from its life. Even if it pecked him before flying away. Even the cut from its beak felt nice, because it wasn’t malicious. He often looked at the little scar it left on his thumb when he couldn’t find any color.

Ironically, it was color that made the chapel his favorite room in the whole building. Even if he was often subjected to humiliation there. It had a long red carpet, the pews were a dark oak with countless patterns for him to trace. The Bible’s had gold text on their fronts, shiny under the sunlight. It was the only room with such big windows. The rest of the rooms had slits near the ceiling, not enough to look out of, just enough to let light in. But the chapel had stained glass. If Vincent was lucky, he’d get to the room when it was empty and the sun was high, and he could see the floor get bathed in colors.

One day, when he’d entered the grand room of worship, he was lucky enough to have it empty and to himself. Only, it was raining, meaning the beautiful glass colors he hoped for weren’t possible. He didn’t complain. The sound of the rain on the glass made up for it, he liked storms for the ambiance. He looked at the droplets smacking the windows as he walked down the aisle, only drifting his gaze away when the sight grew boring. He looked around for something else to capture his attention, and he found it quickly. Growing from in between two stones that made up a wall, toward the back, in a corner, was a flower. Or, perhaps it was a weed. Regardless, it was life, and it was colorful.

He carefully picked one of the blossoms and lifted his mask just enough to sniff it. It smelt sweet in the way flowers did, a bit earthy. He pulled his mask back down and adjusted it so he could gaze at it through the eye holes, admiring it. Shades of warm yellows with little bits of orange on a long green stem. As he gazed at its shape, he realized he’d seen it drawn before, in a book. One of the few educational ones in the library, one about plants.

“What are you doing?” A soft voice came from behind him, he stood and turned quickly. He saw a young boy, around his age. Alexander Abenthy, he knew the name well, because the brunet’s father was often one who enjoyed tormenting him. Reginald Abenthy was a similar vein of disgusting as Alder, cruel and egotistical. But, Reginald was just as stupid as the rest of the followers, perhaps more. He followed Alder’s every word. A kiss-ass, to be blunt.

Alexander didn’t have much of a choice to be fair. Vincent never really held any grudges against the kids his age and younger for hating him. They were being led by corrupt people, people meant to guide them. It was hard to believe any different when everyone around you was telling you something. Alexander had this, though, he was never particularly cruel.

Reginald was a terrible father, unsurprisingly. Vincent had seen Alex getting smacked and scolded for things he hadn’t even done plenty of times. So, when there were times Alexander would denounce him and call him evil, he didn’t really gripe back. Sometimes Vincent had a sassy comment for the adults or Alder, but the kids always got the nicest version of him. Something he knew a lot of children felt confused about. Alex included, it seemed. Vincent hadn’t ever been distinctly nice to him, sure, but he’d been nice enough to get the brunet’s attention.

“I found a flower. See?” Vincent replied, holding up the plant between his fingers. Alexander was far away, picking at his nails as he looked past a mop of brown coils of hair. Alexander swallowed and glanced behind him before he hesitantly took a small step closer. Barely changing the distance between them. “A flower?” Alex asked. Vincent nodded. “It’s a Trumpet Honeysuckle. They’re flowers, they grow in the wild. What makes them special is that they're sweet.” He explained. Alex tilted his head curiously. “You can come closer. I won’t hurt you, promise.” Vincent held up his other hand, to promise. The other boy shook out his hands nervously and spared another long glance over his shoulder. If he was caught talking to Vincent he’d be hurt for sure, but, he walked closer, holding his breath with fear.

When Vincent didn’t move to hurt him, he slowly exhaled, and found a bit of comfort in looking at the flower. “How do you know it’s sweet?” Alexander questioned. “The book I read said so. It’s their nectar.” Vincent dabbed some on his finger to show Alex, who’s face twisted up in confusion. He didn’t know if it was a bad idea or not, but he leaned forward and tentatively touched his tongue to Vincent’s hand. Vincent blinked when Alex leaned back and hummed, seemingly surprised by how he’d been telling the truth. Then, the blue eyed boy snickered quietly. “What?” Alex asked. “You could’ve asked for the flower instead of licking my hand.” Vincent replied jovially.

Alexander’s face went a bright red and he looked down in shame as Vincent chuckled. “It’s okay, everyone does something like that every now and then.” The boy reassured. Alexander’s face continued to burn with embarrassment but he looked up from the floor at least. He watched Vincent’s eyes scrunch up under the mask in a clear display of joy. It seemed so genuine and kind, not something mocking and cruel, like a demon would be. Alex then flinched when the flower was held out to him.

“Here, you can have it.” Vincent motioned. The brunet stared for awhile, waiting for it to be some sort of trick. When Vincent only shook the flower slightly to ask Alex to take it did the boy do so, hesitantly though. He looked at the plant in his own hand now, felt the softness of the petals and the smoothness of the stem. He looked back up at Vincent with a questioning expression. “Why are you letting me have it?” He asked. Vincent shrugged and his eyes scrunched up again. “It’s pretty, so, I thought you’d like it.” He replied earnestly.

Alexander felt a warmth spread through his limbs as his eyes went between the Honeysuckle and Vincent. He slowly held the plant closer to his chest. “Why are you nice?” He then asked. Vincent paused and looked around for a moment, looking for an answer. It was a deep question for his young mind, but he wanted to answer it right. Not shallowly. Something honest and from his heart. The rain filled the silence as he contemplated, finally looking back at Alex.

“I want to be. And you deserve the kindness.” He finally said. Alex’s eyes went wide with shock. “You…I deserve it?” He emphasized. Vincent nodded. “You’re only a kid like me, in a place that’s cruel to you for doing…well, what all kids do. Ask questions.” Alex shook his head at that. “Kids shouldn’t. We aren’t supposed to.” He replied.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re new to life. If you don’t ask questions, how will you ever get answers to what you don’t understand? Adults in this place seem to take it as disrespect, I’m not sure why. Every kid wants to know what’s happening, so, we ask who we think will know.” Vincent explained while brushing off his hands on his black robes, the sap from the honeysuckle leaving a sticky residue on his skin. He sighed somberly and gave Alex a look full of sympathy. “I’m sorry they hurt you for it. I hope you don’t grow out of asking questions. Curiosity is good, I think. That’s how humanity learns. We explore, we question, we find out. I think that’s a trait that’s good to have. I’d like for you to keep it, even if people around you tell you to stop.”

The words seemed so impactful, although Vincent wasn’t aware of it. Alexander swallowed and stroked the yellow petals, letting the words sink into his brain. He noted his heart felt quick and he was warm all over, but not in an uncomfortable way. Not like the humidity of Summer or the heat of fire. But pleasantly warm, like those few times his mother held him, or he got one of the thick blankets during his stint with the flu. It was lovely. He looked back at Vincent with a firm nod. “Okay. I’ll try to keep it.” He said softly. He felt the warmth double when Vincent’s eyes showed signs of a smile again.

That day was so pivotal. It was a moment of sweetness in a bitter life. Something that helped shape the two. Even when the time spent under Alder’s heavy handed thumb wore away at them. Vincent might’ve remained stubborn and, by extension, “evil”, but he didn’t keep that childish sugary sense of demeanor. He grew into something hulking and scary, with a cold gaze and deep set frown tucked behind thick porcelain masks. It was that intimidating aura that he used to keep Emmett as safe as he could, even if he was often physically restrained from doing so. He still tried. And the blond clung to him for that, whole-heartedly agreeing with Vincent that they were family.

Alexander and Vincent were never that innocent again. Though, every now and then, there were times they were alone that brought back a nostalgic longing for that day. Not even that, that singular moment, where they seemed almost normal. Like kids meeting on the playground. A silent truce, even if there were plenty of dips in their kindness toward each other. Mostly stemming from Alexander’s father and his hatred for Vincent, hatred mostly composed of a sickening envy. But somehow, despite those times, Alexander seemed to look at Vincent too intently for it to be hatred.

A gaze that doe-like couldn’t have been from a place of loathing, it wasn’t possible.

It was during a kinder patch of time that everything changed. Standing chained up next to the pulpit with Emmett at his side, Vincent stared at the stained glass windows for most of the “gospel”. There was something deep in the pit of his stomach that had been nagging him all day, but he couldn’t place why. His contemplation of the rainy sky came to a pause when he felt the burn of eyes against his skin. He knew who it’d be when he turned to find their gaze, settling on round, deep brown irises almost immediately. Vincent settled on staring back.

He wasn’t egotistical like Alder, he didn’t revere himself and he had come to terms with the idea of being more sin than boy. But he couldn’t help but note Alexander’s gaze always seemed…intense.

Not like the scent of death or the deep soreness of a broken rib. Intense like the sun, intense in the way the first breath after being submerged in water was. If Vincent were to ever compare himself to a God, he’d say Alexander’s eyes felt like worship. He didn’t like the idea of being that self centered, but admittedly, to imagine being adored that much after years of isolation and suffering? It sounded nice…if not a bit concerningly addicting. Vincent would’ve served as a kinder martyr than Alder, that was at least certain.

A sudden strange sound cut through the rain and caught everyone’s attention. A whooshing sound in a rhythmic pattern overhead. He was only fourteen, but Vincent moved Emmett behind him and steeled himself, as if he’d have to fight something. Then, as Alder struggled to calm his church, the loud crash of glass shattering and shouting voices sent everyone into a panic. What seemed like thousands of people dressed in all black armor, carrying big weapons and loud voices, swooped in on ropes and landed with heavy thumps.

That raid was the most pivotal moment in everyone’s lives, the children especially. Vincent had wanted freedom, he was happy to have it, but being separated from Emmett wasn’t his plan. Nor was he ready to be stuck in different facilities, peppered with questions and new experiences. He was polite, of course. Only having an outburst when some doctors tried to remove the mask he’d come to find as his security. They let him keep two of them after he ended up having a panic attack so violent he had to be sedated.

A good thing was being placed with his real family, blood relatives. His grandparents. His mother was seemingly impossible to find, though the social workers promised to keep looking. Lorraine & Marcus were kind, more than kind even. He didn’t take long to warm up to them. But he wasn’t happy, nothing they did would make him cheer up. Every time they’d ask what he’d want, he’d mention his brother. A few times, he mentioned his brother and his friend, but Emmett was the most consistent request. To their credit, they tried. The only problem was the blond was in witness protection, much like Vincent was, for his own safety.

Thankfully, because Emmett had demanded Vincent’s presence as well, eventually, the Walker’s received a letter from the Bauer residence. They didn’t hesitate to move down to a little mountain town named South Park, to get the boys reunited. A tearful reunion it was. Having each other made the transition a lot less scary, given how daunting it was. Learning everything they’d missed and unlearning everything they’d had drilled into them. But, with a lot of work and a lot of therapy, they’d grown normal. Normal enough. Enough to go into high school and gain friends, enough to develop their own music tastes and senses of fashion, enough to get hobbies and get some kind of personality beyond their roles in a cult.

Vincent still wore his mask, but he’d let some select people see his face barren. Emmett still held onto his cross necklace and prayers, but he allowed himself to create his own relationship with god. One less taxing and painful. Their problems seemed more trivial now. Not less painful, sure, but they were normal teenager problems. Struggles fitting in, grades, boys, etc. It was separated from the cult. The fearful looks over their shoulder and the aversion to the color white weren’t so common, and it seemed like nothing could go wrong.

Until, around Vincent’s nineteenth birthday, Emmett had a panic attack upon claiming to have seen someone in all white following him. Whether or not it was his PTSD messing with him, it didn’t matter. The house took it seriously enough to be vigilant. Emmett stayed inside more, though, he didn’t mind staying with his closest confidant Clyde. Vincent, however, hated that idea. Being backed into a corner, shoved back in the walls of what was his home because some false prophet wanted him scared. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of coming to find his family’s house a new prison. So, although his grandparents were worried, he went out more. Usually with friends and in the day time, sure, but even at night he would be out.

Maybe he planned on an offensive approach. Seeking out this apparent stalker, hoping for them to slip up so he could…do something. Kill them, maybe? He hadn’t thought too hard about it. He didn’t really think about the cult at all, not by choice. Unless, of course, it was one of the few good memories he had. It wasn’t like there were many. He could count them on one hand.

One, Emmett being born. Giving him a reason to not fold to Alder’s pressures, giving him a sense of purpose: Two, that moment with the honeysuckle. The time he felt he made a difference on someone, a positive one. Where he was able to connect with another child like a child should. Three, the time Alexander had fixed his mask for him. It was the briefest of seconds, but it burned into Vincent’s young mind like a brand mark. He’d been put through some “holy water boarding”, as he joked about it, and his mask was full of water. In a split second as he was pulled up, Alexander slyly slipped his fingers under the edge of the covering and pushed it from his face. Breaking the water’s seal and letting Vincent get a full breath finally.

Vincent, a bit shamefully, found himself often looking for honeysuckle in Colorado. It didn’t have the same climate as Alabama, and he’d yet to find the right genus of the plant, excluding one he potted after buying it from a Home Depot. But finding it in the wild wasn’t possible. Still, he’d look. For some reason. He enjoyed the forests as much as he thought he would’ve. Camping alone wasn’t a luxury he could often afford, mostly for the sake of his family’s anxiety. But, now that he was a technical adult, not to mention admittedly massive, they didn’t have as much of a reason to say no. He was more likely to be harmed by a bear than a person at this point.

Vincent enjoyed the stars and the sound of wind running through the tall trees. He enjoyed the solitude, how it was by his own choice and out in the open. He loved the freedom of it. Sometimes, if he was particularly restless, he’d sprint through the woods with reckless abandon. Ignoring trails and risks for harm. It gave an adrenaline rush not much else compared to.

On this night, he used the light of a fuel lantern to see as he made a fire pit with stones. He’d felt the presence of someone watching him the last few days, really, he should’ve been inside. But he tempted fate anyway, just for some time under the dark sky and the scent of pine. He was focused in the set up of his firewood and timber when he felt the all too familiar burn of eyes on his person. His chest tightened when he heard the crack of a stick not far from him. A row of wild bushes lined some trees, clearly providing cover for the stranger.

Vincent huffed and dusted his hands as he stood, adjusting his tee shirt casually. He acted unaware as he meandered near the sound, as if he was just getting more fuel for his fire. Illuminated by the moon, his eyes scanned through the trees. He came to a stop just at the edge of trees. He stared into the dark woods, bathed in cool dim lighting. When he heard no movement, his patience thinned. Whoever this person was, they’d caused his family a spike in anxiety, put unrest in his home. All because a man claimed he was made by God. Vincent’s teeth clenched and he inhaled.

“I know you’re there.” He said into the brush. He listened intently, not expecting anyone to actually show themselves. “I do not find your stalking amusing. And your attempts at stealth are pathetic. I know why you’re here and I won't allow it.” He hissed. As he let out the growled sentiment, he caught the quickest peek at a sliver of white fabric. As he locked onto it, he caught sight of something too familiar to misplace. Suddenly, rage dulled and something indescribable rose. Not that he wasn’t still angry, he was, but the briefest glimpse of a doe-eyed gaze filled with a special kind of fear made it into something else.

Alexander tucked behind the tree he was using for cover again as soon as he made eye contact with Vincent. Whether or not Vincent actually saw him, he wasn’t sure. Not until he heard a chuckle, one quiet and breathy, mixed with aggression. Not the kind his father had, nor the kind he feared from God. Vincent’s anger was never something he feared. Every time it was directed at him, there was something underlying it that only made his blood burn. Alexander swallowed and shook his head as he recalled the teachings he’d been re-taught. He’d been out of the cult a full two years before his father found him again, brought him back. Without Vincent there, he found it harder to to hold onto that curiosity he’d promised to retain. He wasn’t there for something so childish as his own desires- no, his own curiosity. He was there to do a job.

“I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

Alex’s throat constricted when the voice hit his ears. Vincent had changed so much since he’d last seen the boy. Man, would be more accurate now, he supposed. Behavior and style aside, he carried himself differently. Something more intimidating, more stable, strong. He was strong physically too, Alex had seen. Alex had stared, really. His gaze was sharp, that hadn’t changed. He could feel the spark when Vincent caught him just a second before, the feeling Alex imagined a rabbit felt when spotting a wolf. Hunkered down to the forest floor with sharp teeth made for bloodshed. His words made it hard to breathe, Alexander inhaled shakily and found it didn’t feel like enough.

“This is how you repay me, Alexander?” Vincent heard a quiet hitch. “I show you nothing but kindness for so many years, give my advice with it. Earnestly hopeful for your development as you grow into a man, and you…what? Doubt me?” Vincent’s question got Alex to drop the camera he’d been provided to gather evidence. Hands clutching into his robe’s front near his chest. He heard a slow tongue click, a light scolding that made him weak kneed rather than apologetic.

“Does Alder honestly give you anything better than I do?” Vincent questioned, his voice deceptively sweet. He was still very much upset. Alexander put a lot of hard work in jeopardy, following Alder’s instructions despite the chance he had at freedom. But, Vincent was also sure it wouldn’t really be hard to get Alexander out of that mindset again. The brunet hadn’t ever been 100% invested anyway. That, and, admittedly. Vincent had come to terms with the fact he was more selfish than he originally liked to admit, in a healthy way, of course. But indulging every now and then was human, as his therapist had said. So, as he listened to Alexander heave behind the tree, he stalked closer. Slowly, like an animal.

“Really, Alexander. You confuse me.” He began again, his slight grin sneaking into his tone. “And here I thought the times you thought of me before bed were appreciated.” It wasn’t something he was unaware of, now that time had passed. They’d been younger the last time they’d seen each other, but at the height of the worst parts of puberty. And what he didn’t understand then, he knew now, and he was even more certain it’d only gotten worse for Alexander over time. After all, Alex always did look at him with reverence. One of the few things Vincent ever let get to his head, just for a tiny bit of the ego he’d grown to have.

Grown to deserve.

“Don’t I deserve a bit of compassion? Trust? I know it’s been quite a while since you’ve been in my presence, but surely, you didn’t think so little of me as to forget who I am. What I’ve done for you.” Vincent’s words struck Alexander in the chest. Like a bullet, and suddenly, every second spent in that disgusting faux church meant nothing. His hands trembled, he considered it being fear, but Vincent never really scared him. At least…not the way he should’ve.

He went to lean forward and insist he hadn’t, deny the claim of being a heretic. Something he’d done often, but not like this. Only to not see Vincent at all.

Confused, Alexander hesitantly leaned out more from behind the tree, hands tucked closed to his body. Scanning the dark woods for the tall figure he’d been following for weeks. He gasped and it caught in his throat when he managed to spot the glint of a polished mask under the moon. Vincent slowly tilted his head, the icy blue of his eyes striking something beyond simple admiration into Alexander’s body. “Well?” Vincent asked, quietly. Alexander shivered and shook his head, slowly at first, before he picked up in speed. A silent insistence.

Vincent hummed and slowly stepped. Not closer, more so around. That timeless wolf comparison seemed all the more accurate now. “Then why go against me? Follow the word of that pathetic usurper, huh?” His questioned went unanswered, as expected, he only got stutters in reply. Alex shut his mouth when Vincent chuckled again. “Ah, I know why. Poor thing, you’ve never been on your own. It must be so confusing to try and keep yourself right when told something so different. And I wasn’t there to correct you.” His voice dripped with sympathy like juice from Elderberries. Stinging yet deliciously sweet to the ears. Vincent placed a hand over his chest and bowed ever so slightly. “My poor thing, how hard that must’ve been.” He cooed.

Alex’s breathing was stuttered and uneven, but he didn’t feel that strange sense of panic now. Letting out a breath of relief when Vincent claimed to forgive him. However, his adrenaline spiked again when the man sighed. “Still, your actions caused quite a bit of harm.” He said. Vincent’s gaze grew sharp again, like he locked onto prey. “Of course, I prefer to play fair. Tell you what,” he stopped in front of Alex, a few feet away. “Make your best effort to last on your own.” He stated. The instruction was vague, of course, but Vincent didn’t mind elaboration. He pointed behind Alexander. “In that direction, past the field of wildflowers and trees, is the lake. “

“Quick thinking and decisions under pressure could see that you make it to the water.” Vincent’s words trailed off slightly. Alexander turned back to look at him curiously, feeling his knees nearly buckle when he met the man’s eyes. “Assuming I don’t make it to you first. You’ve doubted me, and I only ever encouraged you to ask questions. Let’s see if you can walk on your own, without me. Prove yourself. But, assuming you don’t make it…” His sentence came to slow stop as he noted Alexander already preparing to run. He wouldn’t win. They both knew that. Alexander whimpered in something not quite akin to fear as Vincent’s eyes scrunched up, a sign of a grin underneath the glass covering his face.

“I’ll give you a ten second head start, sweetheart.”

✞Smut✞

Alexander’s breath hitched as the words hit his ears. He struggled to get a proper deep breath, making him feel light headed and airy. His limbs were warm, full of blood and adrenaline as Vincent stared him down. A deep, sweet voice that sent a shiver down his spine spoke once more. Counting down.

“Ten…nine…eight…” Vincent went slow, he didn’t speed through the seconds. By the time he hit the first syllable of eight, Alex’s brain finally clicked in. Vincent felt a surge of pride as the brunet stumbled slightly but took off at a great speed. Cracking sticks and rusting leaves as the young man took off in the direction Vincent said to. There really was no point in giving Alex a head start at all. It wasn’t a fair fight, if you could call it a fight at all. A wolf letting a rabbit get away and get a taste of freedom didn’t mean mercy, nor did it mean the rabbit was faster. Vincent was on the track team, for Christ’s sake. Of course he’d win, they both knew that.

Alex still ran though. As fast as he could manage, despite the sore burn in his lungs. He wasn’t slow by any means, he was quick, but he wasn’t particularly athletic either. It didn’t help that years of being stuck in a building with a dust and mold problem seemed to wear down his lung stamina. Not to the point of asthma, but to reiterate, he stood no chance. But he knew that. As soon as he hit the tall stalks of wild flowers and grass, he could feel Vincent’s presence behind him. He didn’t need to look, the taller man had a presence about him he’d never seen in any one else. No one had an aura of something so powerful, dangerous, and yet, so approachable and sweet. Even if Alex’s heart hammered with something like fear, his blood throbbed somewhere else. It’d done that before with Vincent, even the thought of him made Alexander’s knees weak.

To Alex’s credit, he made it pretty far. Honestly, farther than Vincent anticipated. But, Vincent still caught him. In a flash, Alex was sent to the ground on his back with a choked yelp. He panted, heated breath creating light clouds in the air. It wasn’t cold enough to risk anything like frostbite, but the air had a biting chill from the mountains. Alexander’s body temperature had risen considerably too. In the speed of it all and the rushing adrenaline, he hadn’t noticed how his head didn’t throb from the impact of his fall. But, he did notice when Vincent’s hand left his cranium, and grass finally threaded into the frizzy brown curls on his head.

If he hadn’t been so focused on Vincent leering over him, situated between his parted legs, like he’d been caught in a snare and was ripe for the man above him to dig his teeth into. If he wasn’t so distracted by that, he would’ve found the fact Vincent protected his head from the fall adorably sweet. A classic move that truly showed how gentle Vincent could be, how gentle he truly was at his core. What made Alexander adore him so much to begin with.

Over him, Vincent remained with a quickened pulse and a wild mix of emotions he found enthralling. The adrenaline of a chase, no matter how short, and the light mingling of some left over anger, of which was mostly gone at this point. Beyond all that was a hunger. Something selfish and salacious. Ever the selfless man, very rarely did Vincent ever indulge. Sacrifice after sacrifice, self effacing to a fault. But there was something so mouth watering about the young man beneath him, something oh so enticing. His breath hot as it bounced off his mask, pupils widened.

Alexander swallowed. “What…what now?” He asked, voice breathy and a bit rough. The ragged nature of his breathing had worn at his throat, though, the soreness in the back of his esophagus wasn’t much of a current concern. Vincent’s hands rested by his head, resting against the earth as he leered. “Now? Now I appreciate the spoils of my victory. My prize, if you will. You lost, after all,” He began a new sentence and rose a hand to his mask. Something precious to him. Something Alex had, really never, seen him without. The brunet’s breath hitched as it slid up and off. In a moment of anxiety, formed from what, he wasn’t really sure, he squeezed his eyes shut. Listening to the light thud of the mask hitting the ground nearby.

When Alexander opened his eyes again, he let out a sound akin to a gasp and a whimper. Vincent’s bare face was something shown to a very few select people. Alex had never had the privilege. Mostly because of where they were, Vincent wouldn’t have minded showing him sooner if he could’ve. To be barren to him now only felt fair. But the grin Vincent wore, not sinister or aggressive, but more jovial. An almost childish sense of giddiness.

“H-how so?” Alex asked. “What prize?”

Vincent chuckled quietly and loomed a bit closer. Their foreheads nearly touching. “You, of course. My intention is to finally devour you. Slowly.” His voice dipped dangerously low and Alex’s jaw went slack. Wide doe eyes and shivering under the weight of the statement. Vincent gave a little tilt of his head. Cheeky, if anything. “Unless you had a better idea?” Even if he was fairly confident in what he was doing, he always gave Alex an out. At the risk of overdoing it all, he didn’t want Alex to see him as a new prison of sorts. If Alex truly wanted to run, he could, and Vincent wouldn’t stop him.

But the brunet shook his head, shivering when Vincent’s smile widened, acutely aware of the man’s hands now rested on the inner portion of his knees. Keeping his legs bent and out of the way. “Perfect.” Vincent replied, leaning down to kiss the bridge of Alexander’s nose. It was such a delicate motion for a situation so opposite. Not that Vincent left it there. When he said devour, he did mean it, but he wasn’t one to tear into a meal. He had manners. He took his time, even if he’d been starved for awhile. Lips pressing against every surface of Alex’s face. From his worry-furrowed brows to the mole under his eye, the bone of his jaw and the plains of his cheeks. He particularly liked the way Alexander’s cheek squished under the pressure his lips applied.

Something innocuous but adorable in his opinion. He’d always enjoyed squishing Alex’s face between his fingers when they were in their little spats, where Alexander denied their fondness and Vincent teased him for it. But no matter how sweet that was, it was nothing compared to the delicacy of a proper kiss to Alex’s mouth. The brunet’s lips were a bit chapped and dry, but overall plush and warm. There was a lack of experience that Vincent easily guided him past, and any fear of embarrassment washed away with a wave of desperation. Alex leaned up with a whine and his hands twitched against the grass beneath him, wanting nothing more than to reach up and grasp at the man. But he didn’t find himself worthy, and there was a hint of fear that he’d make the wrong move.

Vincent on the other hand, took his sweet time appreciating every curve his palms ran over. He fought a grin when Alex chased him for another kiss when he paused for them to breathe. As if his presence was worth more than oxygen. That amount of adoration was something he wasn’t used to, but something he selfishly wanted more of. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he nipped at Alex’s lower lip and received a whimper in response. Only for it to melt away as he focused on the taste of Alex’s open maw. Claiming whatever space he could with his tongue. Alexander’s hands finally left the ground and grasped at the short sleeves of Vincent’s shirt.

Dirt and grass had already stained the pristine white robes Alex had been shoved into. And Vincent still held a heavy disdain for the clothing. He knew personally how uncomfortable the fabric was, scratchy and terrible for keeping warmth in. Even if his were allowed to have pants, most standard robes didn’t. In the Winter, the only real layer given out was a pair of tights for the legs, which was mostly just given to the girls of the cult. But when the seasons turned frigid, any amount of fabric to keep the body warm was desperately needed, hence why Alexander wore them. But now everything was too stuffy, too warm, and he managed a huff of mild relief when Vincent popped one of the securing buttons on the front panel of fabric.

It truly did feel like he was being eaten alive. Feeling hot breath and deeply intimate kisses pressed against his skin, leaving his lips and making a trail along his jaw and neck. Alexander took a second to try and hold his breath, keep himself from hyperventilating. He failed when Vincent’s teeth lightly grazed his collar bone, letting out a flustered whine when hands slid further down the white fabric he wore. Popping open each button until his body was exposed to the chilly air. He didn’t really feel the cold though. Vincent bled so much heat, going cold wasn’t a worry. One of Alexander’s arms came up to hide his eyes while Vincent continued to leave searing kisses along his chest and abdomen. He gasped and flinched when the tights, meant to keep his legs warm, were torn roughly. Leaving large holes in the fabric, the sound of the threads popping under Vincent’s tugging mixed with a hitched & squeaky gasp while Vincent lightly nipped at the fat on Alex’s hip bone. Not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a light mark that would fade in a matter of hours.

Vincent’s hands trailed down Alexander’s legs, gently slipping his fingers into the mouth of the flimsy flat shoes everyone in the congregation had to wear. His lips pecked little moles and small scars left on Alex’s skin from the years. Unable to stop smiling with each kiss when the brunet twitched or squirmed. To know he had so much effect on Alex, it made something in his soul burst, like a flower coming undone under the moon.

Alexander’s next inhale was stuttered and he whimpered again as Vincent leaned back up to kiss him on the mouth. Brows furrowed as Vincent’s hands trailed back up his sides, palms pressing to his ribs, fingertips lightly digging into his skin as his back arched off the earth. He hesitated to rest his hands on Vincent, feeling unworthy. But his heartbeat stumbled when Vincent let out a quiet groan, feeling Alex’s nails dig into him through his shirt. The blue eyed man had a strange relationship with the biological signals of pain. One would think he’d fear it, given how much he’d been harmed, for so long and so callously. But the bite of Alex’s nails, denying his skin and leaving a subtle stinging, made him feel alive.

His friends loved to give him playful teasing about him being a masochist. He never argued against them. They were wholly right, after all.

Alexander whined again when Vincent’s mouth trailed to his temple. A deeply intimate kiss, full of emotions he was too hazy to properly discern, pressed to the space beside his eye. Only for him to feel Vincent’s teeth shift across the outside of his ear, threatening to nip at him. All of this was unfair. Vincent claimed to want to devour, but all he was doing was teasing. Playing with his food. Perhaps, like any other predator with its prey, there was something about high adrenaline that helped the final bite all the more satisfying. Maybe when the sharp teeth finally connected with Alexander’s esophagus, Vincent would find the lustful panic flowing in his veins to make his blood sweeter, more fruitful.

“I dreamed of you, you know.” The deep, rumble, growl-like voice of Alexander’s vice made his hips unconsciously shift. Grazing Vincent’s hands, which traced the skin lightly pushing through the holes in the tights. He could feel the sly & loving grin against his throat, the warmth of breath when Vincent chuckled quietly. “Even when I was unsure if I’d ever see you again, you never really left my mind. Never would. Like a pesky little magpie, chirping in my ear every morning.” He chuckled again at the analogy. He felt the way Alex swallowed, limbs trembling slightly as Vincent tucked his fingers into the holes he made. Delicate, even as he began to pull on the fabric again. Making fragile threads pop audibly as he moved slowly.

“Awfully quiet, pet. Don’t tell me I’ve caught you speechless.” He whispered teasingly. “What happened to all those brazen times you spoke so boldly to my face, hm? How much you hate me?” The word hate came out mockingly. Because Alex had never hated him, he’d never said it convincingly. He was only parroting what he’d been told, when it came to his own thoughts, his own wishes and wants, he got tongue tied and shy. Alex’s jaw shuddered a bit as he tried to speak, though he didn’t have the mind to form something meaningful to say. Only letting out another choked whine when Vincent pressed another kiss to his ear.

“I-…I never hated you.” Alex finally hiccupped. Vincent hummed in response, nudging the brunet’s head back for more access to his neck, more space to paint little love bite bruises on. “No? Not even a little?” He asked quietly, smiling again when Alex shook his head. “What was it you called me once? Upon our time hiding in that closet? The bane of your life?”

“Bane of my existence.” Alex answered. Vincent gave a quiet laugh, planning to tease, until Alex found the audacity to speak again. With closed eyes and a deep breath. “Bane of my existence…object of all my desires.” He exhaled, his heart following the words closely. Vincent paused for a moment. Only a few seconds but far too many for Alexander. One of the man’s hands left the crook of his knee and slid up his torso, over the bend of his throat, coming to gently grip his jaw. With delicate finger tips pressing into his rounded cheeks, tilting his head the way Vincent decided. Positioning the young man to make eye contact.

Alexander swore icy blue had never seen so full of fire. Not Hellfire, as many had claimed. But the fire that burned with life, warmth, passion. Dangerous but so vital for survival. For his sanity.

“Object of all your desires huh? What desires would those be?” Vincent asked softly. The brunet’s cheeks grew a deeper red, if that was even possible. His blood centered itself either at his groin or in embarrassment, in his face. Everywhere else felt tingly from the lack of circulation. Medically inaccurate as that was. Alex stammered some incoherent syllables, disjointed attempts at words that were hindered by shame. Vincent tilted his head slowly. How someone could look so kind, yet so terrifying, Alex couldn’t understand.

“Well? Tell me, little lamb. Such a faithful follower you’ve been, how I wish to reward you. I’d love to know what you dream of. Allow me to provide, sweetheart.” Vincent spoke again. Voice dripping with honey. Sticky and sucrose. Alex questioned if he was even breathing. “I…I want…” He shifted on the ground uncomfortably. His muscles hurt, ached. Desperate for touch. Teeth dug into his lower lip, pathetic wet eyes watched his false idol click his tongue sympathetically. Alex leaned slightly up when Vincent came down, grazing his mouth, taunting the idea of another kiss. “Do you want me, love?” Vincent asked. Alex’s breath hitched and he nodded. Slowly at first, then with vigor.

Vincent hummed in a positive tone as he felt Alexander squirm beneath him. As an act of good faith and true adoration, he gave Alexander the kiss he’d been taunting. Slower this time. One a little more love than lust, even if the latter was still very much present. As evident by Alex’s hands, albeit unsteadily, trailing the waist of the man above him. As if he could sneak his fingers under Vincent’s shirt without being noticed. Vincent smiled against Alex’s mouth, taking one hand to guide Alexander’s further beneath his shirt. A silent act of permission that the brunet seemed to be grateful for, given how delicately he began to appreciate Vincent’s skin.

From scars and sculpted lines of muscle. Alexander mapped them all with the same amount of reverence a congregation gave its savior. The feeling was about the same anyway. It was hard to breathe, but Alex couldn’t help but find it enlightening. The fuzziness in his mind rather joyous, something far more enjoyable than the constant swarms of anxiety and suffering. He didn’t have to fear anything, not under such a powerful force. A powerful being that he’d managed to, somehow, gain the adoration of. What he’d done to deserve such a sweet reward, a delicacy, he wasn’t sure. His soul certainly wasn’t worthy of much in a holy sense. But however Vincent loved his subjects seemed far kinder than any church.

Not that Alexander had any competition. He was a sole follower, of course Vincent wouldn’t take that lightly. He wasn’t selfish, not anymore than any human was.

He pulled back enough to let Alex inhale a full breath. The brunet’s lungs had been desperate for it, even if Alex’s soul was desperate for more. Hence the disappointment in Alexander’s whimper when his lungs filled at capacity again. The breathlessness returned however, when he heard the light clink of an undone belt. His limbs twitched. An air of finality fell upon him, and rather than panic or worry, he melted into the earth. Vincent hummed contently when Alexander, in a sudden bit of boldness, pulled him back down for a kiss. Full and joyous. Sin be damned, just as their souls. Years of brainwashing and conditioning sent out the window as Alex felt hands settle again.

He almost complained again when Vincent broke the kiss, but he was given a quiet hush noise, and a silent instruction by the light press of fingers on his lips. Somehow the taste of sweat and vanilla seemed to act as an aphrodisiac. As if Alexander’s biological systems were brought to their animalistic basics, leaving him salivating and desperate, more than before. Vincent kissed his forehead and said…something. The sentiment hit Alex but the syllables didn’t, he was too far gone at this point. He heaved oxygen into stinging lungs when Vincent’s fingers left his mouth, feeling loving pecks cover his cheeks and temples.

In the little thought Alex could have, he could only consider Vincent, and just how much he could be grateful for. How much he could adore. From the genuine caution exhibited from the man, when he could’ve taken. At the start of this, Vincent said he’d devour. This was meant to be a time for him to indulge, consume. Sink in his teeth, tear, savor. Alex expected and accepted the idea of Vincent taking his fill rabidly. All teeth, claws, and metallic crimson life. That outcome was fine. Just so much as it was himself that Vincent chose to eat.

But even when Vincent said he’d feast…he was still so loving. Prepping the boy beneath him cautiously, cooing and peppering him in kisses. All he had to do was take. But it felt like Alex’s reward, even when it should’ve been Vincent’s. Alexander was filthy. A coward, a liar, a heretic . A born bastard and a pathetic one at that.

But he felt like he was made of gold. Previous gems and rare metals. A delicately crafted rarity made to be cherished, admired, revered. He couldn’t bring himself to think about whether or not he deserved to feel that way, not when Vincent’s hands finally brought his hips up. He could feel Vincent, the most vulnerable parts of each other pressed so close, radiating incomprehensible amounts of body heat. Alive, breathing, full of warm, viscous blood. Intimidating really described all of Vincent. But how Alex seemed to thrive with the feelings his biology would label fear.

If he were a lamb, he’d be the easiest meal to take. Even when adrenaline was made for the survival of prey, giving them the incentive to run. Even on an instructive level, he leaned into it. If he were a lamb, currently, he’d be setting his neck into the open, salivating mouth of a wolf. As if it’d fulfill him.

And fill it did.

“Shhh shh shh, it’s alright. I know, deep breaths," Vincent whispered, heaving hot breaths across Alexander’s ear. The brunet wouldn’t stay still. It stung, no matter how slow Vincent had been. He didn’t want Alexander to hurt, and yet, Alex didn’t seem put off by the burn or the ache. Perhaps incentivized even. Vincent trailed more kisses across Alexander’s face, admiring the flushed skin as he pulled back to look at his little lamb in full. Splayed out on grass and pastel wild flowers. Bathed in cool, dim light from the moon overhead. Debauchery, a fitting description for the situation around.

Vincent’s hands seemed detached from himself for a moment. One slowly sliding across Alex’s heaving ribs, following the heavy, quick thumps of a rapid heartbeat. Slowly up to the brunet’s neck. He didn’t squeeze or press, just delicately held. Admiring. It felt like he’d plunged his hands into the elegant strokes of a painting. A piece of artwork in an extravagant frame, one made to be displayed with pride, made with an artist’s tender love and care. And here he was, touching it. Not on a canvas, but skin. Warm, breathing, alive.

All for him.

Alexander let out the loudest sound he’d had all night when Vincent moved. A single thrust, just to test, make sure everything was good to go. It sent a shiver up Alex’s spine, like an electric shock. And it felt like cresting over the surface of water after drowning, like the bite of fruit after starving, like a first breath. Vincent pressed a delicate kiss to the center of Alexander’s chest, teeth so close to what kept him alive. Though really, he supposed it was only fair. To have the two kinds of life so close to each other. What kept his body breathing, beating powerfully against his ribs, a soulful pattern to the being that made Alexander feeling alive. Living rather than surviving.

Vincent hummed a pleased noise as he repeated the motion. Still slow, careful. Patient. Alexander let out that sinful, song-like noise again, shaky fingers threading into his hair. Lightly tugging at fluffy black tresses as a rhythm started. Methodically at first. Vincent didn’t want to rush, as desperate as he truly was, despite how composed he’d been. But after a few minutes, with his patience starting to dip under his desperation. For once wants feeling like a need, and as Alexander grasped at him more. Yearning. It dawned on him that this wouldn’t be the last time.

The brunet had been in a limbo for years. Vincent unable to find him, unable to forget him either. The reality that Alexander would never be truly his was something he’d, honestly, feared having to accept. But then here he was. Heaving for breaths and clawing the skin of his back. Misty eyed and flushed. Here in his palms, against his ribs, as close as humans could physically get. Alexander was here and after this…

Alexander was his.

Not Alder’s, not his father’s, not the church’s. Not God’s.

His, Vincent’s. He was Vincent’s to hold, to crave, to lust and adore. He could home him, provide, shelter. Vincent could give him everything. Alexander had always seen him as more than a demon, more than some sinful scapegoat. Even when they’d fight when they were younger, Alex always came back to him. Fearfully, sure, but, it was Alexander’s hands who’d saved him from suffocating more than once. Who’d dabbed away blood from lashings. No one had shown him the devotion Alexander did. Like he deserved to be praised and deified. Vincent didn’t consider himself a god, Vincent didn’t have that ego.

But if Alex wanted him to be, then he’d be so. And he’d be the most of loving gods. Truly, not superficially. Since Alexander was his, for as long as they both breathed. Why should he have to take his time? They had all the time in the world, and this would happen again. Besides, Alexander clearly wanted more, teetering on the edge of something euphoric and new. Vincent was a provider, after all.

Alexander let out a squeal almost embarrassingly high pitched. Head tossed back against the grass, a noise pitching out with every frantic breath. He was crying but he wasn’t sure why, it was just so much. He hiccupped when Vincent held his face again, bringing him back for a moment in order to make eye contact. The image of Vincent above him, hair a mess, heaving deep breaths with great focus in his eye. He was so close, almost enough to kiss, but not enough. Alexander grasped at his wrist subconsciously, eyes crossing for a moment from a particularly well placed thrust. He blinked a few times rapidly to refocus his face when Vincent clicked his tongue.

He received a kiss to the bridge of his nose, then to his cheekbone. Straining to listen when Vincent nipped at his earlobe. “Look at the sky.” The order, while a demand, was just was sweet as ever. Alexander did so, finding a beautiful mosaic of glittering stars on a backdrop of deep blue, a full moon the brightest. It was cloudless and serene. Then, Vincent spoke again with another instruction, this time followed with a shift of their hips and a new feeling swarming Alexander’s nerves. More rapturous than before, somehow.

“Say my name.” Vincent exhaled. Alexander didn’t do it immediately, not to be defiant but because his mouth couldn’t form words. He let out a whiny, deep groan from the back of his throat as Vincent kissed his temple again. “Say it to the sky, I want God to hear who you belong to.” The words that followed sent Alexander to the precipice of cloud nine. And as he burned with passion, salacity, intimacy, and worship, he did as he was told. Something he’d always been good at. The last stretch being so quick, yet so slow. Like time stopped just to make the last few seconds count all the more. If anyone was around, in about a mile radius, they would’ve heard Vincent’s name. Echoing in between trees and into the air like a prayer. Like the music of gospel.

Then, a slow come back down to earth. Alexander felt boneless and empty…also a bit sticky. How long he’d been in the clouds, he wasn’t sure, but he finally felt the light kisses being pressed to his face. He let out a quiet noise as he leaned into Vincent’s palm holding his face. The air was suddenly cold again, freezing even. Alexander tried to remain as close to the warmth surrounding him as possible.

“Alexander…hey, c’mon sweetheart, look at me.” The brunet mumbled incoherently upon hearing the words, peeking his eyes open, barely.

Vincent smiled fondly at Alexander’s tired visage. Seeing the boy still a bit out of it, he blew some air in the boy's face, making Alex’s eyes flutter. “Come back to me, c’mon now. Deep breaths. Atta boy.” He whispered. Alexander’s eyes closed contently as Vincent kissed his forehead again. The blue eyed man cooed sympathetically as Alex shivered a bit from the cold. With a squeeze to the brunet’s hand, he removed himself, giving quiet reassurances at Alex’s discomfort. The aftermath was always a little uncomfortable, given the mess and all. He made sure not to lean back too far, lest Alex think Vincent was leaving him.

With the tights fully removed, Vincent carefully closed up Alexander’s robe. Noting he’d somehow tore two buttons off the flimsy thing in the heat of it all. When, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t bother rebuttoning his jeans, or his belt. With more light kisses, Vincent slowly stood, picking up Alex as he rose. Alexander’s arms wrapped around his neck and he was perched on Vincent’s right arm. Vincent picked up Alexander’s flats with his index and middle finger on his left hand. He walked back through the field, toward his camping site. Giving whispered praises to Alex along the way.

Alexander was exhausted, floating on endorphins and warmth. As Vincent reached the camp site again, he opened his eyes a bit while being set down on the sleeping bag in the tent. He felt a twist of anxiety appear in his stomach when Vincent leaned away, but it settled when he saw the man wasn’t leaving, just grabbing a bag. “Let’s get you in some better clothes, okay?” He smiled warmly.

His mask being gone was something Alexander still noted as particularly important. It filled his chest with something he couldn’t quite describe. But it felt wonderful, like he was special. Leaving him feeling pleasantly fuzzy despite his sore muscles.

And a sore ass.

“We’ll talk about what to do next in the morning. Where you’ll stay, new clothes, you know.” Vincent said as he carefully helped pull a pair of sweatpants over Alex’s legs. They were far too big for him, but they’d do for now. “You won’t leave me, right?” Alexander finally spoke again. His voice squeaky and hoarse. Vincent’s gaze softened, a bit sad. He leaned down to kiss Alexander again, sweeter and innocently this time. “No. Never again. I’ll find a way to have you stay with me, I promise. Don’t worry about the details now. I’ll have it all handled, love.” Alexander smiled tiredly as he got another series of kisses to his cheeks and nose.

“What now then?” He muttered. Vincent dropped slowly on his elbow, carefully pivoting to lay in his side, letting Alexander leech off his warmth. “Now? We sleep. …and we cuddle, because I’m feeling needy.” He said, letting Alex use his bicep as a pillow. The brunet blinked a bit before he snorted fondly. “Vincent, demon spawn, Satan’s work horse here to damn my soul. A cuddler? Who would’ve guessed.” He whispered. Vincent laughed a bit. “And there’s that sass. I was wondering where it went.” He praised, nuzzling into the messy curls of Alex’s hair. Feeling full of adoration and accomplishment. Full of love.

#original character #original male character #male character #oc x oc ship #oc writing #gay #gay everywhere #gay gay homosexual gay #smut oneshot #religous imagery #cw #oneshot #smut

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lady-astras · 7 months

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Febuwhump Day 6 - “You Lied to Me” (Impulse)

Day six, woohoo!!

He couldn’t think of any people who gave him trauma, or any fears. Well, he’d see once the door opened.

Faintly he wondered if he’d see Tango die like Tango saw him die. Tango had been rather clingy lately, much to Impulse’s amusement. Xisuma had done some digging and concluded that any figures present were the work of illusions or artificial intelligence. To take anything they said with a huge mound of salt. The Divinity were just trying to sow the seeds of doubt and fear in them by showing them just what they were capable of.

…Although Impulse was sure his parents had never hurt him and he certainly didn’t fear them. Well, he did, in the way one feared his parents, but not like some people he knew did.

But there they were, standing at the opposite end of the room. His dad, Granite, remained there with somewhat of a stern look, his signature for when his emotions were being carefully concealed. His mother, Sunstone, wore a look of worry and, strangely, apology.

“Impulse! How lovely to see you,” she said. The father just nodded gruffly.

“How are you doing outside the keep? People treating you well?”

“Perfectly fine,” Impulse said carefully. “Everyone’s been pretty kind.”

”Good, good,” his mother replied, tone a little strange. As though she’d been expecting the annswer and was hiding it with relief. There was an ever-tensing silence before his father broke it.

“We need to tell you something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Sunstone blurted, “you know how as a kid we never let you go out of the keep because it was dangerous because of the elves?”

”Yeah..? I found it weird when I moved here because all the Elvin hermits were nice to me when I told them I was a dwarf. I just assumed things had changed. What about it?”

”Things didn’t change.” Granite inputted, “Truly. The elves never actually had a deal with us and vice versa.”

What?

It does make sense though, those threats were purely hypothetical. Always precursed with a major “if”. So… why did they prevent me from going out of the keep?

“You lied to me,” he found himself saying. His dad sighed apologetically, his mother adding,

“We’re sorry for the white lie. It was just too dangerous to let you go out there.”

”Why?” Impulse felt his voice go cold, autopilot taking over while his mind still reeled.

It doesn’t even sound that bad. But what would have happened if I’d listened to them and stayed inside, becoming a miner? Or an agriculturist? Would I have had a social life? Would I have been able to experience human culture? Would I even be here?

“We just thought it was safe. Being around Netherkind is dangerous. It was fine that you were interacting with other people outside of the dwarves until you told us your friend was blazeborne.”

”You just wanted to keep me away from Tango?” He gasped.

Granite shrugged, ever cold as the stone attributed with his name. “As we said. Fire doesn’t belong anywhere near here. We respect them from a distance, but that doesn’t mean we go befriending dangerous creatures.” Something clicked - it wasn’t the dwarves and the elves who had a rocky relationship - it was the dwarves and the blazeborne of all intelligent beings.

Was the room telling that fact to click? Or was it a thing? Once he was out of the room and away from these illusions of his parents the sunny blue skies would help clear his head. He’d go for a fly with Grian (who was seldom on the ground these past few days) and figure it out and it’d be solved.

With that in mind, he strode over to the door and tried to tug it open, only to find it locked, locked, locked. Impulse groaned in frustration. Twenty-four hours. He had to stay here and face his “parents” knowing that they (might have?) lied to him. Just to keep him away from his best friend. He laughed sardonically to himself. Wouldn’t this version of his parents practically kill him if they knew he was engaged to the very person they’d try to prevent him from seeing?

These illusions shouldn’t be getting to him.

These hours had been painful, and what was worse, there was no way to tell the lapse of time because of course his comm was taken. All he could do was sit there with nothing to do but stay silent or make conversation with Sunstone and Garnet.

Or well, not the real Sunstone and Garnet, but for now, until he could talk to them, he was mad at his parents.

”IMPY!!!” Tango cried happily the next morning. It made Impulse smile. Tango was usually more reserved about his emotions like that, still ever goofy though.

“Hi Tango,” He replied, wheezing as Tango enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Tango pushed him back, holding him by the shoulders with a concerned look.

“Are you alright? Did they do anything to you? Who did you see? Are you hurt? Is anyone else hurt? Impulse!”

“I’m fine, Tango, don’t worry.” After a second, he continued, “It helped that Xisuma told us about his illusions speculation. Although, I think I want to talk to my parents, especially since they were in that room. I’m not sure about how much power they have…”

“That’s a good idea. Want to go home?”

“Of course!” Impulse put his arm around Tango - as best as he could considering his rather short stature - and they walked cheerfully away from the Box toward Tango’s starter base.

A little bit of worry still was worming around in his mind, but it would be fine for now. Once he talked to the real Sunstone and Granite, and his worries were cleared up, everything would be fine.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fandom #impulsesv #impulse and tango #sorry #propaganda: astra edition #astra writes yo what?#febuwhump #febuwhumpday6 #dwarves v elves kinda thing #tangotek #probs forgot so many things

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luveline · 3 years

Text

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

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xoxo-teddybear · 4 years

Text

Bakugou Turns Into A Dog - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, crack, lowkey pervy Katsuki, cursing, (writing not spell checked!)

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Request: Bakugou’s been hit with a quirk that has given him the body of a dog. He’s still has his own human thoughts and voice but now..he’s a dog. Just how will he abuse his new power with f!Y/N

It was supposed to be a normal day! Well, as normal as it could get for UA. But of course, trouble just had to strike, and of course the ones at the center of it all was the infamous Bakusquad. More specifically, the man the group was named after.

“I-...I can’t believe that actually just h-happened!” A cheerful blonde cried out as tears fell from his face and laughter rang out from his voice.

“C’mon man, don’t be laughing at what just happened. This is serious,” Kirishima said with concern as he looked down in his arms.

“Are you serious? This has got to be the best thing that’s ever happen since we met Bakugou!” Kaminari replied with while once again dying of laughter.

“IF YOU DONT SHUT THE HELL UP RIGHT NOW SPARK PLUG, I’LL BLOW YOUR ASS TO BITS!” Bakugou barked out.

“Oh yeah? With what quirk lil pupper?” Denki slickly replied while booping his nose. Bakugou’s been making fun of Denki for the longest, this was the perfect revenge. His dear friend has been turned into a dog! Not just any dog, and not the dog you would expect. He wasn’t a german shepherd or rottweiler. Katsuki Bakugou sits in Kirishima’s arms as a fluffy, blonde, angry pomeranian.

Luckily, kinda, the only thing that changed about Bakugou was his body. He could still speak and understand the human language and he could still think like one too, but now it’s all that in a fluffy, round, adorable body. Now, he was all bark and no bite......sorta.

“OW!” Kaminari yelped as Bakugou latched onto his finger and growled. Passerbys watched as the young group of teens watched their friend throw his hand around in pain with a tiny floof dangling on it. Kirishima went in to grab Bakugou and calm Kaminari down.

“Damn, you little rugrat,” The electric blonde started, “just wait till Y/N sees you, she’s gonna die.” Kaminari teased. Once those words left his mouth, Bakugou’s puppy eyes went wide.

‘Oh hell no!’

Kirishima saw how his friend was shaking in his arms and grew concerned so he asked, “hey man, are you alright there Bakubro?”

Bakugou was extremely nervous. He couldn’t let his longtime crush see him like this! Like a weak, soft, puffball! If you saw Bakugou like this, the second he’d turn back to his normal self, he’d dive out the nearest window anytime you were around.

The entire Bakusquad knew of Katsuki’s little (HUGE) crush, and the fact that one of them was now able to use that information against him mortified the lil guy now.

“Aww c’mon Denki, that’s not very nice,” Mina said as she pet Bakugou’s little head before he snapped at her hand. Thankfully, she dodged it.

“Yeah well Kacchan hasn’t been very nice either! Damn mutt nearly bit my finger off!” This received a growl from Bakugou, which was unsurprising pretty normal.

“At least the cops told us the quirk will ware off in two weeks.” Sero stated. Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah. Sheesh, I still can’t believe what happened. That random criminal really jumped outta nowhere.” The red head said.

“Tch, I still can’t believe someone could be stuck with a shitty ass quirk like that. Turning people into pets. Ridiculous.” The blonde dog said.

“Imagine what it’s like being on the receiving end of that quirk. Must be just as ridiculous.” Mina teased.

Bakugou jumped down from Kirishima’s arms before speaking. “Yeah! No shit Pinkie!” He said while standing on his hind legs and motioning towards his new body with his front paws as if he were human.

——————————————————————————

As the group made it to the front doors of the dormitory, Bakugou stopped them before entering.

“Listen up dumbasses! Nobody better say SHIT to Y/N. Just say I’m some random dog found on the street and you guys opted to take care of me till you found me a home. If she asks what happened to me, tell her I was forced onto a trip with my parents. Got that?!” Bakugou strictly spoke.

“Got it!” The group said in unison, but a certain blonde had a different plan in mind. As they entered through the doors, Kirishima hid Bakugou into the side of his jacket but it only made comical sense that you were the first person to greet them.

“Oh! Hey guys!” You said with your award winning smile as you walked towards the group. Before anyone could say anything else, Kaminari spoke up.

“Hey Y/N! You wanna guess what Kirishima has in his jacket?” Denki exclaimed.

“Oh, no I’m sure Y/N has better things to do!”

“Maybe she shouldn’t,”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

The 3 friends were throwing out excuse after excuse to keep you from seeing the little devil.

“Woah woah! Hey! You guys! Chill. If you don’t want me to see then I won’t force you. It’s fine.” You kindly said.

‘Whew’ the squad all thought

‘She is so awesome!’ Bakugou thought while in the jacket

“Oh c’mon guys, show her the puppy!” Kaminari said. Now that grabbed your attention.

“Wait? Puppy?! That’s what you guys are hiding. Awww no fair!! Can I please see it! Please please pleaseeee!!!” You begged. After your constant pleading and the squad’s constant denial, Bakugou thought he could just give in this one time. He knew that his friends would cover for him and say he’s just some random dog and you would drop it so he began to stick his snout out of the jacket. Kirishima took it as a sign to show him to you.

“Oh my goddd!!! It’s so cute!!! Boy or girl?” You kindly asked while petting Bakugou’s head, something the dog was enjoying a little too much.

“It’s a boy,” Kirishima said. “We found him on the street so even though we’re kinda busy we wanted to take care of him and heal him up till we can find him a new home.” Mina added on.

“Guyssss c’mon!! Tell her the best part! Tell her exactly who that dog is.” Kaminari begged. The Bakusquad including the dog looked towards Kaminari with a warning look, but Kaminari didn’t care. The ultimate revenge starts now.

“Y/N! That’s Bakugou!” Kaminari exclaimed. As everyone started denying it, you looked towards the dog and saw that it did resemble Bakugou a lot, but then again Bakugou did look like an angry pomeranian time and time again.

Before you chose to listen to one or the other, you weighed your options. Kirishima the chivalrous and honest, the manliest man, or Kaminari the jester himself? It’s was obvious who you were gonna listen to.

“Oh stop that Kaminari. Bakugou may look like a fiesty fluff ball from time to time but he’s not really a dog.” You said while petting the pupper’s chin. Everyone sighed in relief at your words.

“But that’s really-“ Kaminari was cut of with Sero wrapping his tape around his mouth.

“Hey if you guys need a healer, I could use my quirk to help out with that. It may not be a full on healing quirk but it should help the little guy. Plus, I don’t mind spending the next...?” Kirishima helped you out.

“Two weeks,” he said.

“Right, I don’t mind spending the next two weeks with the little cutie.” You said. The dog’s eyes went wide at that as a plan came into mind but the Bakusquad once again started denying, saying it was fine but you insisted since Mina just previously said they were all busy. Throughout the chaos a VERY human like sound came from the creature in Kirishima’s arms.

“Woof.” Bakugou said with such a casual demeanor. He said ‘woof’ in such a human like voice, it was absolutely absurd. As everyone looked down at the dog, the only thing that could be heard was Sero awkwardly giving out a cough to break the silence.

“Ok...well umm that may be a sign that he’s ok with me taking him!” You said with an excited smile. Kirishima looked at the dog and as Bakugou looked back up at him, his best friend knew that he should give you the dog.

“Ok Y/N, he’s all yours. But you’re right about one thing. Since he does look like Bakugou, we named him Blasty, so that’s what you should refer to him as,” he said while placing the dog in your arms. The pomeranian was excited as what appeared to be a small smile showed up in his face and he squirmed around in Y/N’s arms, cuddling up against her pillowy breast.

“Awesome! For the next two weeks, it’s me and you Blasty!” You said while carrying Bakugou in the air facing you and looking at him. He was too cute so you pulled him in for a hug and kiss on his little head. Everyone could see Bakugou had a smug look on his face.

“Alright guys! I better get to healing him!” You said as you ran off with the pupper still holding a smug look, this time directed at Kaminari.

“Looks like your plan backfired dude,” Sero said.

“And it looks like Bakugou is gonna be enjoying these next 2 weeks a little too much,” Mina said and the group shared a laugh. Well, except for Kaminari who was kinda irritated that his revenge failed, but happy for his friend nonetheless.

——————————————————————————

Once you got back to your room you placed Blasty on your bed and started to check him for places where he needed healing.

“Huh, looks like you’re not really injured Blasty. Oh well, that’s fine! Just means I can spend more time with you without having to worry!” You said while rubbing his head. Bakugou leaned into your hand with a small and then rolled onto his back for belly rubs. He was hoping you would pet him some more but you didn’t.

“I’m sorry Blasty, but you need a bath before you hang around anymore. Let’s go!” You picked him up and he was wide eyed and bushy tailed. A bath. Whatever. As long as he got your attention. You placed him in the tub but realized you would be getting your clothes dirty, so you changed into some pajamas you wore the night before that were sitting in your hamper in your bathroom. Basically, you changed right infront of Bakugou. He was staring at you as if you were a meal. As you undressed infront of him he saw you in your panties and bra, matching of course, and damn your body was the exact definition of perfect. He licked his lips as he stared until you put on a cami top and black booty shorts.

“Damn..” he whispered.

When you came back to Bakugou you went down to his level and began to scrub him. You reveled in your touch and soaked in the hot water. When you took him out to dry him off you looked at the time and noticed it was pretty late.

“Alright, I guess we should head to bed. I’ll put on a move and we can sleep. Here, let me go set up some pillows for you to sleep on.” You said as you grabbed your spare pillows and placed them on the floor for Blasty.

As you got into bed you felt a little movement on your mattress. Apparently Bakugou hadn’t appreciated being on the floor. He wanted to sleep next to his future girl. So when you turned over and looked at him, he gave you puppy eyes.

“Oh...why the hell do you have to be so damn cute,” you said as you picked him up and placed him on your bed. Bakugou cuddled up in your chest and took in your delicious scent. You both drifted off to sleep while Bakugou was just having happy thought.

‘This is gonna be the best 2 weeks of my life!’

——————————————————————————

Ohhh what a week. You thought taking care of Blasty would be fun and exciting and adorable but it was that and more. It was also kinda frustrating. The damn dog would “bark” and growl at everyone, especially guys who tried to talk to you, and would only eat human food. He refused dog treats and never wanted to approach other dogs. Hell, this dog didn’t even go outside to use the bathroom. He went into the actual bathroom! Oh and don’t even get Y/N started on the “barking.” That dog had the most clear and humane “woof” any dog’s ever had! Another thing! This dog’s behavior is a little outta line. When Y/N would shower, it would try to follow her in and just sit there. When she would change, it would lay on her bed smiling and staring at her. When she would sleep it would ONLY cuddle into her breast or booty and one time when she woke up in the middle of the night, Blasty was up too. Again. STARING. What is up with this dog?

——————————————————————————

“Ugh!” Y/N said as she face planted the table. Her lunch completely disregarded and the Bakusquad (minus Bakugou because apparently he had to go on a trip with his parents...or so you thought) watching as the blonde mutt poked around her head on the table.

“Having fun there Y/N?” Mina asked to which Y/N replied with a stare and a twitching eye.

“Blasty is INSANE!” You roared out. The Bakusquad and Blasty (aka Bakugou) watched on. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having the little guy around but he has some weird habits for a dog. He won’t eat like a dog, use the bathroom like a dog, interact with other dogs, and don’t get me started on the barks! I’ve never heard a dog say WOOF like a human,” you took a breather before continuing, “another thing, Blasty is a lowkey perv sometimes. Well if he were human at least, but he has perv tendencies. Like the staring whenever I’m a little underdressed or in the tub or SLEEPING.”

With that rant, Bakugou felt his ears fell and he backed up into a corner on the table. He was starting to feel insecure. Had his crush really thought of him as a pervy little thing? When you saw Blasty’s reaction, you noticed he might’ve understood what you said.

‘Can he....no there’s no way.’ You thought about the dog. Was there a possibility he could understand everything you just said?

“Oh Blasty, don’t be so dramatic. I’m just saying, for a dog, you’re a little weirdo, but it’s okay because for the time being, you’re my little weirdo. I still got love for you!” You said while holding him up in the air. Once again, the dog had a reaction to your words.

The squad was starting to notice the gears in your head turn and Kirishima quickly took him away for a little “walk.”

“Oh hey Y/N, why don’t you finish your food and I’ll take Baku- BLASTY! For a walk. Yeah, maybe he needs some outdoor exercise.

“Oh no Kiri it’s fine I-“

“THANKS!” The red head said as he dashed out the cafeteria with the little floof. Oh well, might as well enjoy your last few minutes of peace.

——————————————————————————

“What the HELL SHITTY HAIR!? She was all up on me back there! You didn’t have to drag me away!” Bakugou spoke as Kirishima held him from his armpits.

“Sorry man, but you were the one who said you didn’t want your cover blown and she was starting to figure it out. And c’mon Bakugou, she knows you better than someone who would go on a trip with his parents. Not only that but your looks are so obvious. What dog had red eyes and spikey blonde hair?!?” The red head explained. The blonde dog only crossed his arms in a very human like manner and turned to the side.

“We’ll be fine, the quirk will ware off in another week so get over it. Besides, there’s no way she’ll know! We have everyone that was there covering it up for me. It’s fine!” Bakugou replied.

His best friend sighed before saying “alright man, if that’s what you want,” and placed him down to head back to the cafeteria.

“Thank you! Jeez, now let’s get back to the cafeteria. I wanna have lunch with my Y/N.” Bakugou walked on all fours with his head held proudly.

“You may be a tiny dog, but that huge crush on her that you got going on is still going strong,” the red head said.

“You’re damn right, Shitty hair!”

As the boys walked, they didn’t know that from around the corner, Y/N heard everything.

‘Bakugou?! Quirk??? CRUSH?!!?’ Oh this was too good. With this new information, Y/N walked off with a smirk and a plan.

——————————————————————————

The next few days passed and like always, you work up with Blasty, oh you mean Bakugou, on your chest. You slightly smiled knowing this past 2 weeks, your crush had been coddling over you. You got even more excited knowing your feelings were mutual. You woke up and got ready for the day.

Now, the same thing happened as always. You got up and went to the bathroom to shower and Blasty would follow. He would watch you undress and step in the shower and step out and change. You would pick him up, hold him tight, kiss his forehead, and then be out the room. This time, your routine felt a little different knowing it was actually Bakugou staring at you this whole time.

Oh. He had seen you naked multiple times. You didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. Oh well, he kept on staring is he must’ve been enjoying the show, except this time, you actually gave him one. You slowly stripped outta your clothes and made slight and soft R-rated noises as the warm water hit your skin. You bent over as you put on your underwear and slowly got dressed. You couldn’t believe yourself. Serving these looks to a dog.

Bakugous cheeks would be so red under that fur, the way you moved this morning was everything. He didn’t even notice the drool slipping from his mouth. As you stood there in nothing but your panties and bra, you turned towards Bakugou. And idea came to your head.

“Hey Blasty! You wanna help me pick out a look today? We sure are lucky the school staff has an all day meeting! Free day for us!” You picked Bakugou up and held him against your nearly bare breast. Bakugou just had to rub himself in between your mounds a little, and you noticed this, and released a slight whine.

“Mm..hey Blasty, stop that.” You placed him down and dressed into a mini skirt and tube top. You matched with a pair of everyday causal heels and went out with Bakugou following along. He would walk directly under your side and look up. He enjoyed the view of your lace panties and the jiggle of your ass everytime you took a step. Man, was this a perfect Friday or what?

Well it would’ve been if it hadn’t been for a certain Icy-Hot. What Bakugou didn’t know, was that you texted Todoroki the previous night to help you with this little plan of yours.

“Hey L/N.” Todoroki greeted you with kid kind eyes and gentle smile.

“Todoroki, stop that. I told you that you’re one of the people who can call me Y/N.” You said.

“Well alright, then I insist you call me Shoto in return.” He said.

“Only seems fair!” You said with a giggle to which Todoroki stared at.

“You have such a beautiful smile.” He complimented. You blushed at his words, especially since Todoroki really wasn’t one for..umm..emotions.

“Thanks,” you bashfully said while stepping a little closer. As Bakugou watched this whole interaction go down from below, he couldn’t help but release a small growl. No way in hell is Half and Half taking his girl!

“Actually, there was a reason why I called you over.” Todoroki said before speaking again. This caught your attention and Bakugou’s. “I was wondering if your wanted to go in a date with me. Tonight. It could be really casual and we could even do a small movie night here in the common rooms. Just you and me. What do you say?” He asked. Bakugou was fuming.

“A date huh? Mm, I’m sorry Shoto, but I’ve actually kinda been waiting for Bakugou to get back.” You said which made Bakugou flip his head towards you.

“Bakugou?” Todoroki asked.

“Yeah. I’ve had a small crush on him for awhile, and I was hoping my first date would be with him.” You explained. The cartwheels Bakugou’s heart was doing in his tiny body was ridiculous.

‘She likes me back She likes me back She likes me back!!!!’ The dog thought to himself. His tail began wagging and his smile grew bigger than ever.

“Well I heard he’ll be gone until Saturday,” Todoroki started, “so how about just for tonight, I keep you company with a movie, maybe some chocolate, maybe some flowers, and see where the night goes?” He asked. Bakugou snarled at the two toned boy with his fangs until he heard your voice.

“Sure!” You said.

“Really?” Todoroki asked.

‘Really?!’ Bakugou thought.

“Really!” You said, “Bakugou will be gone for another week so I see no harm in hanging as friends!” You smiled once more.

“Great! This’ll be amazing Y/- OUCH” Bakugou had interrupted Todoroki by latching onto his leg and holding on with his life as Todoroki did everything he could to shake the blonde mutt off. You reached for “Blasty” before apologizing to Todoroki.

“I’m sorry, Shoto. He gets like this sometimes.” You explained.

“Ah..no worries. Uh, I’ll see you later tonight?” Todoroki asked you.

“Yeah, definitely. See you then!” You said as you walked off with a grumpy pomeranian in your arms.

‘On every level. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?’ Bakugou thought to himself as you carried him away.

—

You walked into your room to with Bakugou to freshen up a little for your date with Todoroki. A little sprits of perfume here, a dash of blush there, and a little tweak with your hair. Your outfit was cute enough for a friendly little date. As you turned to Bakugou, you saw his sad puppy face.

“Oh, don’t worry Blasty! I’ll be back in a few hours! I’ll see you soon, ok?” You said as you kissed his forehead and made your way to the common room. Just before the door shut, Bakugou slipped out with you. If he couldn’t be on this date with you, then he’d just have to ruin it for Todoroki.

As you finally came in contact with the handsome boy, he greeted you and spoke of your plans

“We’ll be watching a movie, but we gotta get some great snacks first.” He said.

“How about just some popcorn and candy, they’re already right here in the dorms. Come over here and help me prep!” You said pulling on his hand and dragging him to the kitchen. Bakugou didn’t take too kindly to this and quickly went to tear Todoroki’s jeans and bite his ankle.

“Ouch!” Todoroki screamed in pain.

“Are you alright?” You looked around and saw his lower leg had been damaged.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a scratch.” He said reassuring your troubles.

“Well alright, if you say so.” You said and resumed your snack prep. But that was only the start of this horrible night. Throughout the date, Bakugou tortured the poor boy and did everything he could to ruin the little get together. He ate the popcorn and candy while your backs were turned, he chewed on the wires to the TV, stopping you guys from watching, and even peed on Todoroki’s leg while you guys just sat and talk. Although Todoroki saw this coming with Y/N’s plan, he had enough of torment from Bakugou. He decided to move into the final plan, right here right now.

“Y/N, you’re an amazing girl and any guy would be really really lucky to have you,” Bakugou watched this little speech from afar, growling at the two, “and I know you’re waiting for Bakugou, but since he’s not back yet, I kinda just wanna end this night with something special.” He said as he began to lean in, you had no intent on stopping him. Seeing this, Bakugou began to run towards the couple with every intent on stopping this kiss.

“HEYYY!!! Those lips are reserved for me!” Bakugou screamed and you both turned towards the little dog. Bakugou jumped into the air to leap onto Todoroki and at the strike of midnight, His body turned into a human again (fully clothed, don’t worry) and fell on Todoroki, making them both fall back.

“You stay away from my girl, icy-hot!” Bakugou said while on top of Todoroki, clinging to his shirt.

“She’s all yours, you angry pomeranian,” Todoroki said as he escaped and ran to his room. Bakugou only looked back at you with a fierce smirk. He walked up to you, grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss that you happily returned. He pulled away after a minute and began walking with you hand in hand.

“You’re mine now.” Bakugou said

“Whatever you say....Blasty.” You snickered.

Bakugou turned his head in shock. “You knew?” He asked.

“Of course I knew. I knew Blasty was you, I knew it was you whenever you stared at my naked body, I knew it was you whenever you cuddled into my chest, I knew it was you when I overheard you speaking like a human to Kirishima. It also helped that I just watched you transform back to your normal self. But me knowing it was you was the whole reason why I came up with this plan with Todoroki. It’s about time you made a move on me, Blasty.” You said with a teasing voice.

Embarrassed and frustrated at the fact he’d been caught, Bakugou let out an outburst.

“YOU FUCKING TEASE!” he screamed with his hands holding little explosions.

“Yeah, but now, I’m your tease. And it’s ok, because I know you like me. It’s easy to tell with that kiss and whole possessiveness. But that’s fine, because I really like you too Blasty.” You said with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck and Bakugou returned it with a smirk and a hug.

“Damn straight, Princess.” He said as he held onto you tight. “You’re mine.”

A/N: y’all this is not spellchecked bc after the week I’ve had, I just couldn’t. I’m sorry if this isn’t to your liking but I had to finish this so I sloppily wrote it down. I hope you enjoyed it at least! See you next time Bear Cubs💗🧸

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt~ hoping you'll like it ♥️

Things between the Nie brothers are not always nice and happy, they fight, just like any other pair of brothers, and sometimes things are said, sometimes these things are heavy and painful. Sometimes they're said in the wrong moment (maybe at the eve of a battle? Sunshot campaign?) and huaisang doesn't know what to do with the broken look his brother gives him before leaving the unclean realm. Because what if he doesn't return? What if the last thing he said to him was how much he hated the man he became?

Labyrinth - ao3

“But I didn’t mean to wish him away!” Nie Huaisang cried out.

“That’s really too bad,” the goblin king said, looking pleasant and humble and charming the way he always did, even in his cape of glittering gold and high-browed hat. “I wish there was something I could do for you, but the rules are the rules. You wished him away, and I took him.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only take babies?” Nie Huaisang demanded.

“Your brother’s enough of a crybaby to count, it’s close enough.”

“It is not!” Nie Huaisang wrung his hands. “You don’t understand, the last thing I said to him was that I hated him! Meng Yao, please!”

“It’s Jin Guangyao,” the goblin king corrected. His smile looked a bit strained. “Listen, do you think I’m happy about this? He’s my sworn brother! I’m only doing what I have to –”

“Oh, save it for Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang growled. “Show me the labyrinth already.”

“You’re going to face the labyrinth,” the goblin king said. His voice was very polite, and yet still expressed significant doubt. “You.”

“Yeah, me!”

“You remember that it goes ‘through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered’, right? Not ‘through a nice teacher and a forgiving grading system’?”

“Yeah, well, your father is a fragging aardvark. Let me at the labyrinth already!”

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

The life-sized animated puppet blinked at him. “You – don’t want my help?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“You haven’t even gotten into the labyrinth yet!”

“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t have a chance to get in,” Nie Huaisang said, patting around his sleeve and pulling out a fan. “So I’m just going to walk over and beat at the wall till something happens.”

The puppet followed him, staring blankly. Quite a change from his original apologetic ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy with my own things, I really can’t help you, also it’s too dangerous and you shouldn’t go’ response.

“You were blackmailing me to help you just a moment ago,” the puppet said after a little. “Don’t you need a guide?”

“Listen, I’m bad at memorizing things and I’m a little useless, but I’m not actually dumb,” Nie Huaisang said, fanning himself. “Jin Guangyao is a demon of the mind above all else, and the labyrinth is supposed to be ‘fair’ – which means, more than likely, that the labyrinth is a reflection of the subconscious, specially tailored to each person’s strengths and weaknesses. And that means that you, who sound exactly like Lan Xichen, are almost certainly a set-up sent by Jin Guangyao to ‘reluctantly’ aid me and then betray me.”

“Uh,” Lan Xichen-the-puppet said. “My name’s Hoggle, actually.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, er-ge…A-ha!” Nie Huaisang beamed at the gates that automatically opened. “Perfect!”

“Oh, don’t go that way,” the worm said. “Never go that way. And are you sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea?”

“No time,” Nie Huaisang said. “Thanks a lot – wait.”

The worm blinked at him.

“You’re a pretty attractive worm, in a slimy sort of way,” Nie Huaisang said, frowning at him.

The worm blinked again. “Why, thanks!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Is your name Su She, by chance?”

“Definitely not!”

“Mm. Oddly vehement of you. Never mind. Just, quick, could you tell me exactly why do I not want to go that way?”

“I don’t suppose straight ahead is an option?”

The hands-faces stared at him.

“I’m just saying, I feel like most of my problems so far have come from the fact that I decided to accept the whole concept of turns. It seems like a mistake.”

“…it’s a labyrinth,” another set of the hands said. “You have to make turns!”

Nie Huaisang shook his head mournfully. “I should’ve brought Baxia or something and just – ZIP. Gone straight through. You know what I mean?”

“I’m dropping you in the oubliette regardless of your decision,” the first set of the hands said. It sounded a bit like Sect Leader Yao. “Just so you know.”

“My life is so hard,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “So hard! Do you know what it’s like to be overlooked by everyone? Do you know how hard I have to work at being this useless?”

“Drop him,” the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Ouyang said, and the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Yao said, “Yes. Now!”

Down Nie Huaisang went.

“I can take you back to the beginning of the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen offered.

“What, and waste all that time? I have a time limit, er-ge!”

“It’s better than being stuck in an oubliette. That’s where they put people to forget about them, you know.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled with tears. “You want to forget me, er-ge? You think I’m useless, don’t you? A good-for-nothing, who’ll never amount to anything –”

“Please don’t cry.”

“ER-GE! WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME!”

“Please stop crying!”

“So what’s the point of you?” Nie Huaisang asked the Wise Man with the Talking Hat.

“Not everyone exists to contribute to your storyline,” the Talking Hat snapped at him. “Some of us’ve got our own problems. Now hand over the candy!”

“Don’t be mean,” the Wise Man said. He had a white cloth over his eyes, and was smiling like he found the hat funny.

“Awww, but daozhang…!”

“Different plotline entirely, I guess,” Nie Huaisang decided. “Probably just here as a foil. Shall we keep going, er-ge?”

“I can’t believe you scammed me to get out of the oubliette,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “I can’t believe…”

“Oh, leave him alone, he’s just sensitive!” Nie Huaisang snapped.

“Am not!” the upside-down creature snarled, curled up on itself and trying to hide from all those that had been hitting him. Its fur was a vivid sort of purple. “Go away!”

“Don’t you have some sort of special power to help you here,” Nie Huaisang asked him as he tried to get him down before the goblins came back with weapons. “Rocks, maybe?”

“…lightning?”

“Well then get to it, will you?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Wait. Lightning, constantly being tormented, terrible at communication, and purple? You’re Jiang Cheng, aren’t you?”

“…maybe.”

“Well then get down faster! I need to copy someone’s notes here!”

“Leave me aloooooooone!” Nie Huaisang howled, running away from the measuring snake.

“Wow,” Lan Xichen said, holding his cheek. “You kissed me.”

“You saved me from the snakes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Can we focus on how we’re in this awful stinking bog?”

“It’s not that bad!” a voice piped up. “I don’t smell anything!”

Nie Huaisang turned to stare, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “I bet the total absence of a sense of smell helps when you eat spicy food, Wei-xiong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with spicy food!”

“You’re short,” Nie Huaisang informed the small goblin-like creature with the big grin and the red ribbon in its hair. It looked vaguely fox-like, or possibly like certain large breeds of rabbit.

“Why you..!” Wei Wuxian crossed his furry little paws over his chest. “Just for that, I’m not going to help you.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Really. That’s awful…oh no! A dog!”

Wei Wuxian jumped high into the air. “A dog?! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Save me!”

Much to Nie Huaisang’s surprise, a furry dog immediately darted out of nowhere – only Wei Wuxian didn’t seem afraid of it, but rather hid behind it, teeth chattering.

Truly, Nie Huaisang reflected, the eyes of love are blind.

“I think the ‘dog’ is gone now,” he said. “Your brave and noble Lan Wangji must’ve scared him away.”

Wei Wuxian’s head popped out from behind dog-Wangji. “Well, Lan Zhan is really cool…hey. Are you trying to manipulate me?”

“Is it working?”

“No!”

“So you won’t help me?”

“No!”

“Not even if it means you get to figure out a really tricky puzzle?”

“No – wait. A puzzle?”

“I can’t believe this is going to work,” Lan Xichen muttered from behind Nie Huaisang. “I mean, I can. But also…Wangji…I love you, but you could do so much better than this.”

“Ugh,” Nie Huaisang said. “I’m so thirsty.”

“Have some Emperor’s Smile,” Lan Xichen said, offering a jar.

“Amazing,” Nie Huaisang said, accepting it and taking a swing. “I had my doubts, you know, but you’re actually good for something after all, er-ge –”

The golden bird was Nie Huaisang’s favorite.

He’d worked so hard to bring it back to his aviary – it couldn’t be forced, he knew; it would play along at first but in the end it would turn on you and bite you. It had to be coaxed with gentleness and kindness, approached indirectly so as not to spook it, convince it that you really did mean well – that you were harmless, that it had no reason to fear you. It was arrogant, too, proud of its shining feathers and ashamed of the brown plumage of its chick days, which still remained visible on its tender underbelly. Ironically, that was Nie Huaisang’s favorite part of it, the soft and gentle part; it might not be as pretty as the gold, but it felt more genuine.

Nie Huaisang smiled as he brushed the beautiful feathers, and the golden bird allowed him. He felt cherished, treasured. So what if he had to hide all the sharp parts of himself to get this close?

It was fine. He didn’t like to be sharp.

He wanted to be soft. Soft and gentle, careless and free, relaxed and without effort, good for nothing –

Wait.

No!

“It’s all junk,” Nie Huaisang hissed at the pile of burning fans, tears in his eyes. “I want my da-ge!”

“You’re all right!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, helping pulled Nie Huaisang up.

“Huaisang-xiong,” Jiang Cheng said, looking relieved. “You’re back.”

“We have to go to the temple beyond the Goblin City,” Nie Huaisang said, teeth gritted together. “We have to. I won’t let that bastard…we’re going to go there and throw all his damned tricks right in his face!”

“Just us?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I mean, I’m awesome, Lan Zhan is fantastic, and of course Jiang Cheng is great, too, but…uh…there’s a lot of goblins in the city.”

“We’ll sneak in,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks he’s sidelined me entirely – he thinks I’m useless. He won’t be expecting me to get this far.”

“I can get help,” Jiang Cheng said. “I have friends.”

“…not to be rude, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “But – really?”

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said, eyeing the pile of rocks following Jiang Cheng around, each one painted with a name. One of the names was yellow. Two were in white, with forehead ribbons. “This is fine. I feel like it says something really rude about my empathy for and interest in our junior generation, or lack thereof, but you know what? I don’t care. It’s fine.”

“You saved me,” Nie Huaisang said blankly, looking at Lan Xichen, who shrugged, abashed. The remains of the mechanical temple guard were scattered all over. “Over – him?”

“Huaisang –”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “Don’t. Don’t…I don’t want to hear you talk.”

Lan Xichen’s head dropped down and he looked at the ground. “You knew from the beginning what I was like,” he murmured. “I never tried to hide it –”

“I forgive you for being what you are,” Nie Huaisang told him, and Lan Xichen looked up at him, startled and pleased. “I forgive you for not having the backbone to stand up against Jin Guangyao for me – or for da-ge. For being willfully blind for so long, for needing someone else’s proof of his ill-intentions, for always picking him first, for never trusting me…I forgive you, even if you’d never forgive me for the same.”

He dashed away the angry tears in his eyes.

“I just wish this wasn’t a fucking metaphor.”

Nie Huaisang left the fighting to the people who knew what to do – Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, even the rock-juniors – and went to the temple at the center of the city alone.

Some things, he knew, needed to be done alone, even if it was the type of alone when you were surrounded by other people. Even when those other people stood by his side and made him promise that if he needed them, he would only need to call. Some things…

“I want my da-ge back,” he said to the maze of stairs.

“Then go and find him,” Jin Guangyao replied, looking smug, and Nie Huaisang had to go up and down all those fucking stairs, because Jin Guangyao was nothing if not predictable with his trauma, looking all over, looking for –

Looking for pieces.

“It’s just a metaphor,” he whispered to himself, ignoring how tears were streaming down his face. “It’s just – I need to put him back together, it’s fine. I’m not too late – I’m not too late –”

Jin Guangyao held Nie Mingjue’s head in his hands, blinded and gagged and bound with talismans, pulled out of whatever oubliette he'd shoved it into to forget about what he'd done. “Beware, Huaisang,” he said, still smiling. Always smiling. “I’ve been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”

Nie Huaisang laughed, scoffing. “Generous? What have you done for me that’s generous?”

“Everything! Everything you’ve wanted, I’ve done – I cared for you, I gave you attention, I got you out of work, doing your schoolwork for you and coming up with excuses to get you out of saber training. I gave you presents, fans and pretty clothing, and when that brute of a brother of yours tried to take them from you, I rescued you. And then I even managed your sect for you, answered all of your questions, any time you had – Huaisang, I’m exhausted trying to live up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth. “Half of those are burdens that only fell on me because of you. Why should it matter to me that cleaning up your own mess and satisfying your own guilt is hard? Why should I pay such a price when all I wanted was to be your friend? When all da-ge wanted was to be your friend? How dare you, Meng Yao!”

“Huaisang…” Jin Guangyao shook his head mournfully. “Huaisang, the last step here is to say the words to break the spell. But you were never good at memorization, were you?”

Nie Huaisang bit his lip until he drew blood.

“Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered,” he said. “I have fought my way here to the temple beyond the goblin city –”

“Huaisang, stop! Look at what you’re risking here. You know how everyone loves me – do you think anyone will forgive you for taking me down, for tricking them all? You’ll be all alone!”

I already am, Nie Huaisang thought.

“My will is as strong as yours,” he said. “And my kingdom is as great…”

His voice trailed off.

“I ask for so little,” Jin Guangyao said beseechingly, convincingly, looking just like he always did, like the man who'd been their friend. “Just let me fool you, and you can have anything you want. No responsibilities, no stress, a life of your own. You can even have Lan Xichen, if that’s what you want…”

What’s the last line, Nie Huaisang thought, hating himself for being such a poor student, for cramming things into his mind without any order, for never being able to retain a single drop of it no matter how hard he tried. What is it? Why can’t I ever remember?

“It’d be so easy,” Jin Guangyao crooned. “Much easier than this. Just fear me, love me, believe me, and I’ll be your slave.”

Sharp teeth in a false smile.

Nie Huaisang shook in terror. He couldn’t – his da-ge needed him – he couldn’t be afraid, couldn’t be a coward, couldn’t be good-for-nothing – couldn’t let Jin Guangyao win – couldn’t let him –

That was it.

Nie Huaisang raised his head until his eyes met his enemy’s.

Sensing something wrong, Jin Guangyao’s eternal smile dimmed, and he began to step forward, reaching out, but it was too late.

“You have no power over me,” Nie Huaisang declared, and the world within a world collapsed.

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes.

Nie Huaisang sat in his desk in the Unclean Realm, trying to amuse himself by trying to figure out what exactly he’d eaten the night before that had given him such bizarre dreams. It was not successful, on account of him being alone.

Alone, just as he had been every night, and every day as well, since the success of his scheme at the Guanyin Temple.

Just as the dream-Jin Guangyao had threatened.

It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang regretted what he had done – the dream was clear enough about that; he’d do it all again in a heartbeat if he had to. But in the dream he’d been working alongside his former friends, with Lan Xichen betraying but then returning to him, with Wei Wuxian dragging Lan Wangji around, with stone-faced Jiang Cheng and the rather interchangeable junior squad behind him…and in his dream, in the end, they’d let him go to take his revenge, telling him that if he needed them for any reason, he could just call.

Just call, and they’d come back to him. Instead of turning from him in disgust, they’d stand by his side…

“Stupid subconscious,” Nie Huaisang mumbled to himself. “What do you expect? That I'd write to them and say ‘for no real reason at all, I find that I rather need you’?”

Silence answered him.

“Well, I do,” he said with a sigh, putting his chin on his hands. “Does that make you happy? I do need you.”

“You do?” Wei Wuxian’s voice rang out, and Nie Huaisang jumped nearly out of his skin. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Nie Huaisang turned, staring: it was Wei Wuxian at the door, the human version of him, and of course there was Lan Wangji right before him, and Jiang Cheng, and the (still mostly interchangeable) juniors, and – and even Lan Xichen, who Nie Huaisang was sure had gone into seclusion with no intent to leave.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Huaisang squeaked. And why hadn’t any of his sect disciples warned him?

“We just bullied our way though the door before anyone could stop us,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, answering the unspoken question first. “As for the rest – it turns out that I had the strangest dream the other night, really, truly bizarre, and obviously I had to tell Lan Zhan all about it, except it turned out he had a strange dream too.”

Nie Huaisang’s jaw dropped. “But –”

“I felt da-ge’s qi woven into the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen said quietly. “I thought it’d have long ago dissipated or been locked away, but – it was there, in every stone, in every turn. Every obstacle that didn’t really hurt you, every goblin that was more silly than scary…he was there. It was unmistakable.”

Nie Huaisang swallowed. The story of the labyrinth, baby-stealing wish-granting goblin king and all, had been one that Nie Mingjue had told him as a bedtime story, when he'd been a child in need of comfort; he hadn’t thought of it in years before last night. “But…why…?”

“Because Chifeng-zun has a demented sense of humor?” Jiang Cheng suggested, looking irritated.

“Jiujiu means that he hasn’t had that much fun in years, and also that you should throw a party,” Jin Ling said. “You are hosting all three of the sect leaders of all the other Great Sects. Also, why were we rocks?”

“Uh, no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Da-ge’s weird sense of humor, no doubt! Anyway, did you say party? I can do a party!”

He rushed out of the room, calling for his servants, calling for them to bring food and wine and tea, and as he did, he looked out of the window – a golden bird was flying away, looking hunted as if something was chasing it, and even as he watched, it crossed the borders of the Unclean Realm and suddenly dissolved into a fizzle of golden dust.

Nie Huaisang put his hand on the stone wall, and felt a familiar echo.

A very familiar echo.

“Oh,” he said, to his servants, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and filled with joy. “And while you’re at it, can you bring me my saber? I seem to have – misplaced it…”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #lan xichen #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #lan wangji #su she #sect leader yao #sect leader ouyang #xiao xingchen #xue yang #my fic #my fics #labyrinth

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sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Lonely Castle

Chapter 8 - Heart

Chapter Summary: They may not have a priest or family at hand, but Pero and Ember have chosen each other, and that's enough for them to consider themselves married. Leaving only one thing left to do to seal the deal...

Author's Note: I was a bit horrified at myself when I read this back and realised that it's basically 80% smut. But then I got to the end, and suddenly things returned to normal. (If you've read any of my fics, you know what that means...)

Rating: Explicit 18+ONLY Warnings: cursing, smut, loss of virginity, piv (unprotected), sugary sweetness, monster, historical errors. Word Count: 7824 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

So. Declarations had been made, in words as well as actions, meaning things had irrevocably changed between Pero and Snow, and on top of all that; monsters were very real and terrifyingly powerful and at least one of them could speak. That is; if the damn thing ever decided to come back. While Snow healed, they had little to do but go about their daily lives as usual, because they had no way of knowing when or where the other demons might show up next.

Ash hadn’t returned after it helped them get back to the castle and then left, which was troubling, since it had clearly stated itself to be in need of assistance. It had been the middle of the night when it took off, and by its own account, the others came under the cover of darkness, so what if they had taken it? If their ally was in trouble, they would have no way of knowing it, nor any hope of aiding the creature. Thus, all they could do was wait. Snow healed well, and after a few days she was more or less back to normal function, if with a slight grimace when she moved her arm in certain angles. She was still terribly sceptical of all things demon, though, and Pero understood why. Her perspective was one of fear, as both creatures they’d met had either seriously frightened, or tried to harm her, and she didn’t have the advantage of being able to communicate with one of them. He’d given her a detailed account of everything he could remember from having been taken, and they’d had plenty of conversations about it, trying to work out just what it might all be about, but repeatedly falling short. Today, though, the discussion took an unexpected turn.

“Please, don’t tell me that you actually trust that thing, Pero.”

“Trust would perhaps be a stretch. I’m willing to listen to it, based on what its already told me, and the fact that it wilfully put itself in danger to help you, at my request. At the very least, I have to consider that it wouldn’t do that only to then try and kill us.”

“It’s a demon, how could we possibly know what it might decide, or even feel compelled to do?”

“Well, what’s the alternative? We can’t fight them, at least not without first learning more about them.”

“Or we could run.”

His eyebrows lifted as he heard that, and he turned from the fire he was tending, to look at her. Ember Fletcher, the woman that never surrendered, never gave up, never allowed herself to be bullied by anyone, was suggesting fleeing from a fight? She read his expression and scowled in return.

“You said it yourself; we can’t fight them.”

“No. But I really don’t think that Ash would’ve done all this if it didn’t truly need us.”

“See, that’s the part I really don’t get. You saw what it did to that wolf-demon. Ash was the one that set it on fire, and yet it claims to need your help to defeat them… Explain that logic to me.”

The thought had occurred to him as well, but he still felt that there was too much they didn’t know, to have any hope of understanding the larger picture.

“I can’t. But remember, we only learned of the mere existence of such beings a month ago, I’m certain that we have a hopelessly inadequate comprehension of these creatures, and that we shouldn’t make any decisions until we at least have a basic grasp of what’s actually happening.”

“Fine. But mark my words; at some point in the near future, I am going to say the words ‘I told you so’.”

“Well, while you await the opportunity, this kettle is the last of it. Your bath is ready, my lady.”

“I’ll try and be quick, so it’ll still be warm for you.”

“No, take your time. I’ll be fine.”

He left the dining room and headed upstairs to give her some privacy. It had now been four days since the fight in the woods, and while they had shared more kisses, and stayed snuggled up together at night, Snow’s injury and the lingering threat of monsters on their doorstep, meant that nothing else had happened yet. Though, not from lack of desire. Snow was formidable in that regard as well as all others. She made no secret of the cravings that stirred within her when they were close, and had she gotten her way, their union would already have been consummated, multiple times. It was he that had held them back, and not just because he wanted her to heal first. But because she wasn’t just some woman he wanted, like the one’s in the past, and he refused to treat her as he had them. For her, he would be clean, beard shaven and trimmed, and the dirt carved from under his nails. For her, no effort was too taxing, and no wait was too long.

The warm water did wonders for Ember’s sore and battered body, and it wasn’t until she felt it’s soothing effects that she truly appreciated how much her form had been made to endure in these past four months. It was as though it didn’t just wash away the sweat and dirt and general grime, but the worries and fears and tension inside of her too. She hadn’t enjoyed a warm bath in several years, only swimming in the river in summertime, and keeping to the normal washing routines in winter, so this felt luxurious and special. She’d been surprised when Pero had suggested it, as she hadn’t seen any trough large enough to be used for it, around the castle. But he’d moved some things in the basement to reveal a good-sized wooden tub, turned upside down and used as a shelf. Dusty and filled with cobwebs, but still intact. Still, it had seemed superfluous, hauling all the snow inside to thaw, not to mention a waste of firewood to heat it all, but once he’d explained that he wanted to be clean for her, she’d found it impossible to argue against him. She was close to catching on fire every night when he curled up to her, and every kiss had her almost unwittingly pressing herself against him, looking for relief, and she’d openly cursed his patience more than once over the past few days, when he had determinedly kept her advances at bay. If this was what it took for him to feel comfortable being with her, she’d oblige him. She scrubbed her skin with a cotton cloth, to make sure she got all the dirt off, and then laid back to let her hair soak in the water for a bit, before combing through it with her fingers a few times. She didn’t hurry, but she didn’t dawdle either, and once she was back in the undershirt she’d borrowed from him, as hers had been destroyed by the wolf-thing, she called to Pero to let him know that she was done. When he came downstairs, he had a small clay-pot in his hands. Rounded at the bottom, and narrowing into a short neck with a wooden cork at the top. It was small enough that his large hands could’ve completely concealed it, had he wanted to, but instead he handed it to her with a careful smile. She took it with a questioning brow, and his smile widened at the now familiar expression.

“It’s oil from the south, made from small fruits called olives. Put a few drops in your hands and rub them together, and then run them through your hair thoroughly. It will help clean it, and keep it from tangling.”

That really surprised her, and she openly gawked at him.

“How did you get oil of such quality? I’ve hardly ever heard of it even passing through here. If you’d sold this in Hallen you could’ve afforded a dozen pelts along with our goods.”

“It was payment for a contract I fulfilled, long ago. I rightly should’ve sold it, there were more than one occasion when doing so would’ve spared me from nearly dying. I just never could bring myself to do it. But no matter how it came to be here, it’s now yours, mi sueño.”

“Thank you so much, my love.”

His smile softened at her words, and she suddenly had to remind herself that she was supposed to leave him alone for his bath then. She went upstairs, as he had done for her, and stepped into the bedroom, stopping once she’d crossed the threshold, because of the sight that met her. Apparently, his hands had not been idle while he was up there. The room was tidied of all littered scrap that had been left in corners to accumulate into piles of rubbish, and he had even cleaned the floors, and the windows. He’d also rearranged the bedding of fir branches, so that there was no dividing line between their beds, and instead just one large pit for them both to lay in. He really was adamant about making certain this union would be as perfect as their circumstances would allow. With neither of them having any family to provide dowry, home or income, they were going to have to forge their own marriage. Which they largely already had, with their vows already spoken and their promises for the future of their relationship, well and truly determined. The land they occupied had been long since abandoned, so barring any far removed relative showing up to stake a claim, their home was their own, and as for income… Well, they were both highly skilled at their chosen crafts, so should they find themselves in dire need of coin, there were ways for them to procure it. Whether or not they’d be safe doing so, was a different matter. She tended to the fire before she sat down on the edge of the bed, and opened the cork of the little pot of oil, letting a small amount drip onto her fingertips. It felt so smooth and rich against her skin, and when she did as Pero had suggested, even though there was so little of it on her hands, she could feel how it spread through her damp hair, giving it a softness unlike anything she’d felt before. Pero took a considerable amount of time with his bath, though. Perhaps it was only her excited anticipation that made her perceive time to pass so unbearably slowly, but when the room had gone dark, and she’d had to refuel the fire twice, she began to wonder if he could’ve possibly changed his mind. She had just gotten up, thinking she’d go to the stairs and listen for him, when the doorhandle suddenly moved, and a moment later, the door slowly swung open, before he hesitantly stepped inside, closing it behind him while meeting her eyes with trepidation. She actually gasped at the sight of him. He’d trimmed the unruly curls on his head, surprisingly well considering he’d done it unaided, but then, he’d probably had to do that many times before. And the beard that had been long enough to obscure his throat, though not long enough to reach his chest, had now been almost completely removed, save for a moustache adorning his upper lip, and a little scruff left on his chin. This change, coupled with the dirt scrubbed off of his face, meant that he now looked so much younger, and even the brown of his eyes seemed brighter. He was beautiful. But her lack of response to his entrance seemed to make him insecure, and his gaze darted about the room when he spoke next.

“You don’t like it?”

The sadness in his voice made her wake up from her shocked but reverent stare, and she approached him, not stopping until his face was mere inches from her own, and she could study him intently, learning his features all over again.

“I’m merely stunned into silence by your beauty, sir. Why ever have you hidden from me until now?”

His eyes virtually snapped back to find hers, and it was pure incredulity that stared back at her when she met them. Instead of speaking, his mouth took to explaining his feelings by touch, connecting first to her cheek with gratitude, and then her lips, with a searing heat which she eagerly reciprocated, pushing herself flush against him and relishing in the warmth of his arms as his broad frame enveloped her. He’d been so careful not to provoke her obvious reactions to him any further, until that moment, and when he allowed his own restraint to fall away, she could feel a passion from him that was unmatched, even by her own. Finally, she could allow her heat to blossom, and cave to her desires, knowing he wouldn’t reject her or find her behaviour inappropriate, and it was as though something came alive inside of her, set free by the knowledge that she was wanted. Any thoughts of embarrassment were suddenly nowhere to be found, and all she wanted was just to be with him. To be his. His hands were warm and somehow both gentle and firm as they explored her back, and then travelled down to the swell of her bottom, tugging her forwards to let her feel how he hardened for her. How he desired her. No longer holding anything back. He felt so good against her pulsing sex, craving attention like never before, making her hips jut forwards in search of more, and being utterly pleased when he started grinding himself against her. Stars appeared behind her eyes with the explosion of sensations from her core, and lewd sounds erupted from her throat with the sudden pounding of her heart causing her blood to boil. His mouth moved to kiss her neck and allow them both to breathe a little easier, while his arms tightened around her waist to hold her in place as he backed her towards the bed. When she felt the edge of it against her calves, he stopped, and pulled back to look at her, while his hands grabbed fistfuls of his borrowed shirt that hung loosely over her form.

“May I?”

She just nodded breathlessly, and lifted her arms as he pulled the garment up and off of her in one fluid movement. She stood there, completely bare to his scrutiny, as his eyes drank her in, and if she’d had any doubts concerning whether he’d like what he’d see, they vanished in a single heartbeat. Because his desire appeared to have doubled when he found her eyes once more. He grabbed the front of his own shirt, and held it out to her, wanting her to be the one that exposed him. He was half a head taller than her, so he had to help her with the last bit, but once he too was bare, she schooled herself to look first at his broad shoulders and chest, mapping his scars and briefly wondering how he’d come to have so many, before moving down to look upon his rigid manhood, the first she’d ever seen. She gulped involuntarily. How was all that supposed to fit inside of her? No wonder the women of his past had screamed… His hand came under her chin, lifting her head so that she’d meet his eyes, and there was concern in his brow, making her realise that her own expression had shifted from pleasure to fear.

“Listen to me now, mi sueño. I am not going to impale you. I regret ever using such a crude expression at all. I’m going to prepare your body for this, so that none of it will be unpleasant, because I want you to keep wanting me after tonight, and I want you to feel only pleasure from my touch and my body. So please, trust me. And don’t be afraid to speak. Tell me if you’re uncertain, or if something doesn’t feel right. I will listen, you have my word.”

She hesitated. On the one hand, she did believe him, but on the other, she still couldn’t fathom how her body could possibly accommodate his size. But he’d asked her to voice her concerns, so there was no reason she shouldn’t.

“I believe you, it’s just… are all men like that? In size, I mean.”

“No. It varies from man to man, in both size and shape. But I am by no means the largest one can be.”

“It can be even bigger?!”

“Yes.”

“Fuck…”

He didn’t speak again, instead he just gave her a moment to absorb this information, which she greatly appreciated. She took a deep breath, shaking her head a little, mostly at herself, because women had done this for ages, so naturally, it should be possible.

“Okay. Okay, so… how do you prepare me?”

His face broke into an adoring smile at that, and he stepped closer again, letting one hand stroke her abdomen, before travelling down to her core, and gently caressing her most sensitive spot, instantly making the heat inside of her flare back to roaring life. She inhaled sharply, and then her head fell forwards against his shoulder as the rapture surged through her, at his skilful manipulation of her senses.

“By giving you more pleasure than you ever believed possible.”

His hand disappeared, but was almost instantly replaced by his thick shaft, dragging against the entirety of her sex, undoubtedly poking out behind her as his hips connected with hers, before he pulled back again, now coated in her wetness. He repeated the motion several times, and every movement made her legs tremble with how good it felt, not just against her wet flesh, but against the insides of her thighs as well, as though there were parts of her core that rippled out into those limbs too. His warm, calloused hands, came up to squeeze and fondle her breasts, sending even more tendrils of pleasure through her, and suddenly she felt the pressure inside that meant that she was about to finish.

“Oh… wait… I…”

But he didn’t stop. He pushed her over the edge, and then held her steady as her legs quivered precariously with her release.

“Don’t worry. I’m only warming you up, there’s more to come.”

Her body had gone limp, and she couldn’t have answered even if she’d felt the need to, which she didn’t, because what could she possibly reply to that? How could there be more? He guided her down to the bed and stood over her on all fours, while he watched her breathing calm, appearing to admire seeing her body react to the sensations he was lavishing her with. Then his mouth was suddenly on her left breast, licking and kissing his way around the nipple, nudging the hardened bud with his nose before taking it in his mouth and letting his tongue play with it. His hands never left her skin, squeezing and massaging her sides, hips, thighs, moving up behind her shoulders to lift her chest up into his mouth. By the time he’d given the same attention to her right breast as well, she was panting again, already craving more. How was that possible? For a moment, she got disoriented when he suddenly disappeared, and no part of his body was in contact with hers anymore, so she lifted her head to find out where he’d gone, and then had to stifle another gasp when she saw his head drop down between her legs. She couldn’t, however, hold back her reaction when his mouth connected to her core. She moaned, loudly, and felt her hands close around fistfuls of hair on the pelt underneath her, as her back arched off of the bed and her hips seemed to move of their own accord, wanting more of him. And he quickly obliged, pushing one thick finger into her opening, and then after a while, another one. She felt herself stretch to accommodate him, and finally began to understand what he’d meant about preparing her. Her juices soaked his fingers as he let them slide in and out slowly, all while continuing to lick and suck on her sensitive little bud, nestled into her flesh, until she unravelled for him a second time. It was quite extraordinary, how different it felt when his fingers were inside her while she coiled and writhed at his ministrations, and it took her mind forward in time, wondering how the real thing would feel. She had barely even begun to come back down, when he added a third finger, making her growl with the sensory overload.

“Ember… are you alright?”

“I don’t know… how I could possibly take any more…”

He slipped his fingers out of her, and came back to standing on all fours over her, his head right above hers.

“If you want me to stop, I will.”

She looked at his face, his mouth wet with her juices, and his eyes alight with his passion. But, despite how obvious his desire was for her, there was nothing forceful or demanding about his expression. He would forgo his own pleasure, if she asked him, and that knowledge nearly brought tears to her eyes. Because she’d always had the impression of men as being quite savage in their love-making, even her mother had hinted as much about her kind and gentle father, and that was a prospect which had always frightened her. Pero himself had proclaimed his own practice as a lover to be of the rougher sort, and yet here he was, treating her like a precious jewel, more important to him than even his own satisfaction.

“No. I trust you. If you tell me that my body can do this, then I believe you.”

Her voice held no trace of doubt, and a warm smile made his eyes wrinkle as he lowered himself down on top of her. His lips found hers once more, while his hips once again familiarised themselves with hers, and his hard length pushed against her mound in delicious slow circles. Her hands found his lower back and made a home for themselves there, holding him to her while he rocked into her, building that rapture up within her for a third time, even though she couldn’t understand how it was possible. When he pulled back, and reached down to manoeuvre himself against her folds, in order to better coat his cock with her gushing wetness, she kept holding on to him, as though she feared she might float away. But then his tip nudged her entrance, and she unintentionally tensed, making him pause.

“Relax, mi sueño. You’re ready, but I’ll proceed slowly, and allow you to adjust, however you will need to let me in.”

She wanted to, but the fear of pain instinctively made her attempt to keep him out. To help her body along, he massaged her breasts and abdomen, while tickling her neck and jaw with kisses, licks and nibbles, distracting her from the fact that his impressive manhood was inching further and further into her core. He pulled back between every tiny push in, so that her cunt was gradually opened to him, and he did it so perfectly that she didn’t feel any discomfort at all. She felt the stretch, but it happened so slowly that it only managed to further increase the sensation of pleasure, especially with the knowledge that she was connecting to the man she loved above all else, in the deepest and most intimate way a person could. Once he was seated inside her, he stopped moving, and kissed her thoroughly, before leaning his forehead against hers, and just breathing with her for a moment. She could feel her core adjust to him, pulsing with heat and the strain of the unfamiliar experience, but also the tremendously satisfying sensation of being filled with him. Her desire only rose the longer he waited, until her walls were trembling against him, begging him to move. He could feel it, and eagerly gave her what she needed. Despite how careful he’d been, she still couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to fit inside of her, but when he pulled back and gently plunged back in the first time, she abruptly decided that he actually fit her quite perfectly. He felt amazing. Every movement tickled or pleasured some part of her, and before long she was lost in the purity of the feeling, seeing only stars before her eyes and existing only in what her body was experiencing, in each infinitesimal second. But she was finally also joined in her experience, by his rapture. She could feel it in every inch of his body that connected to hers. How he wanted nothing more than to keep diving into her wet and welcoming softness, keep driving her to her peak, and live in this land of absolute pleasure for as long as possible. But it was also so much more than physical. Things passed between them, in their every touch, that she couldn’t have found words for even if she’d had the strength of mind to attempt it. She wanted so dearly to repay him for his delectable treatment of her body, not to mention the reverence with which he’d taken her virginity, but she was just too overwhelmed, and much too ignorant of these matters, to know how.

Pero was in heaven. There was no other explanation that could possibly come close to describing what this Amazon of a woman was doing to him. He was by no means inexperienced, which he was certain his treatment of her had made clear, and yet, he felt as though every sensation was new. Every touch seemed to hold more power and pleasure than he’d known before, as though her body serenaded his with pure seduction, in return for the ecstasy he gave to her. Her eyes remained closed, her head tilted back with her deep and forceful breaths, and her hands seemed to move on their own, exploring his body and looking for the spots that would generate reactions of pleasure from him. He didn’t want it to end, but he also desperately wanted to spill his seed into her womb, already dreaming of the possibilities for their shared future, completely forgetting about the dangers that lurked around them, now that his mind was filled with only her. Her scent, her taste, her touch… Fuck, she really was intoxicating. And there was something truly special about knowing that he was the only one that had or ever would get to know this delightful secret of hers. This fantastical ability she possessed, to make his heart break open and leak its sappy and adorable, and most vulnerable contents, into the surrounding world. He had never taken anyone’s virginity before, but he doubted that anyone else could’ve reached the parts of him that his Snow now had. Parts he’d hidden and locked away, thinking no one would ever see. Things not even William had known. And he wanted her to see and hear and know all of it, every dirty secret, every terrifying fear, every unfulfilled wish and broken dream. How was it possible that simply being wanted and loved, could make him so soft and breakable all of a sudden? Had he actually always been, but just never known it? He felt her body begin to coil with that special kind of tension that only sexual satisfaction could draw from any creature, as she neared her peak, and he stopped holding himself back, so that he could follow her into that soaring cloud of absolute bliss. Their rhythm faltered, and he had to rise onto his hands by her head, to weigh down his hips enough to keep her from expelling him from her quivering core with how strongly her climax made her squirm and writhe underneath him. Meanwhile, his own peak found heights he’d never even dreamt of before, and he couldn’t stop himself from jutting into her, again and again, as his seed filled her until there simply wasn’t room for more, causing it to trickle out past his softening length, each time he rolled his hips into hers. Her breathless gasps turned into mewls of delight and satisfaction, and once she stilled, she reached for him to settle down on top of her again, wrapping her arms around him as he did. And suddenly, he understood why he’d taken to being so rough with the women he’d paid to endure his quests for relief, in the past. It was because he hadn’t loved them. Because in the absence of emotion, his body had needed convincing to get to that release. And even though he’d never harmed or degraded them, the fact that he’d needed to basically spear them on his cock in order to coax even minimal amounts of pleasure out of himself, now shamed him. In the beginning, when corporal pleasures where still new to him, he’d allowed the experienced older women of the trade to teach him, and he’d been so easily seduced and excited by them back then, that he hadn’t needed more than their undivided attention in order to fulfil his desires, and he’d revelled in the knowledge of how to make them squirm for him. But with time, and the hardening of his soul from the scars that both it, and his body had endured, that boyish excitement had faded into dark pits. Places from which he had never thought it could return. Ever since he was a boy, running from his home and everything he’d ever known, he’d quickly learned to cling to anger and forcefulness, in order to survive the harshness of the world, and had he not; he’d

likely been dead long ago. But if, somewhere in the midst of it all, he’d just allowed himself to feel more than that, if he’d attempted to do more than just survive from one day to the next, he might’ve known the empowering effect of softness and true intimacy, before this moment. Before Snow. He still couldn’t decide which name he liked better, as they both suited her so well. She always seemed to burn, somewhere inside, but not in a raging inferno. More like a pot of oil, kept simmering at all times, needing only a single ember to land in that heat, to set it ablaze with a fury. But she was also like a cool, calming blanket to his own fire. Like a fresh coat of snow over the landscape of his being, she could dampen his temper, weigh down his defences until they crumbled, and grind him to a halt with stunning beauty and a remarkable capacity to make even the darkest and ugliest of things look bright and wondrous. Each other’s opposites, the two names reflected the opposing sides of her person, both so impressive, and equally needed for her to be the woman that she was, making it impossible for him to decide between them. She had nearly fallen asleep when he shifted on top of her, turning his head to the side so that he could kiss her cheek, while letting his arms tighten along her sides.

“Thank you.”

She slowly returned to the waking world, drawn through her blissful exhaustion by the sound of his voice. But once her eyes fell open, and sought his, she looked puzzled.

“What?”

It sounded as though she hadn’t perceived his words, so he tried again, now that she was more awake.

“Thank you.”

She blinked a few times, looking utterly confused.

“You’re thanking me? Whatever for? All I did was lay here… Surely any and all gratitude should be mine to give to you.”

“Certainly not. As I’ve mentioned; I’m not very fluid with words, but I scarcely believe I could find any to do justice to what I feel in this moment, even if I were a poet. Just know that I will never be able to thank you enough.”

“But… I’ve done nothing.”

“You’ve given me your heart, and now every other part of you as well, which is already far more than a man like me could ever ask for. But there’s so much more happening to me right now, because of you… I just don’t have the words… I feel as though I’ve been reborn, into the man I was always meant to be. And I owe that to you, Snow.”

She studied him closely, examining his words and trying to understand his reasoning. But then she seemed to decide that it no longer mattered.

“If I’ve made you happy, my beloved, then the reasons are inconsequential. My gratitude to you is equally indescribable, for the care you’ve taken with my body, and the tenderness with which you’ve claimed my innocence. So, if neither of us have adequate words at hand, then let’s just leave the subject with the knowledge that we are evenly matched in our ignorance, as well as our affection.”

He smiled at her, and nodded in agreement, before slipping free of her constricting core, and settling on his side next to her, tugging her snugly into his chest and feeling another burst of warmth in his heart, when she reached for him, wanting to hold him every bit as much as he did her.

Ember woke the following morning to gentle kisses, and a moustache, tickling her forehead and nose, and even before she was fully aware of it, she smiled, for no reason other than that she was too happy not to. Her body was heavy, and her eyelids too, so she let them remain closed while she coaxed her limbs awake enough to snuggle closer to her Pero, searching for his lips with her own, and mumbling unintelligibly in her delight at finding them. She felt him smile into the kiss, and calloused hands stroked her back.

“Are you actually speaking, sueño? Because if so, I think your mouth is broken.”

“I’m making happy sounds, so shut up before they become unhappy.”

He chuckled softly, and kissed her again.

“Understood.”

For a while, they just laid there, drifting between dream and reality, content to forget everything else and simply relish in each other, and what they now shared.

“How do you feel, Snow? Your body, I mean.”

She had to move a little in order to find out, tensing her muscles to test their functionality.

“Kind of… rigid. Like after a long run, or full day chopping wood. I wouldn’t have thought love-making would equal something so strenuous.”

“It engages every limb and every muscle, in a very unique way, so I would expect you to feel the effects of that. I was more concerned with your cunt.”

“Oh. Um…”

“If you’re not sore I’ll be most astonished. I just hope you’re not in any serious pain.”

She remembered his words from the night before, about wanting her to feel only pleasure from him, so that she’d keep wanting his touch and his body. She looked up at his face, to find his eyes closed and a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t feel any pain, don’t worry. I absolutely still want you.”

“But you are sore, yes?”

“Yes.”

Strangely, her admitting that seemed to ease his concerns, and he shifted his head forwards, blindly looking for something to kiss and finding her forehead again.

“I love you so much, Snow. I’ll never understand how you can love me in return, but I will always be grateful to you. And I’ll always do my best to give you anything you want or need; I promise you that.”

“I make the same promise to you, my love.”

He finally opened his eyes and looked at her, and there was still so much incredulity behind his enormous affection, but there was also a warm smile in his eyes.

“Well, even without asking I know what you need in this particular moment. And while it might not be what either of us want, I do need it too.”

“Let me guess; breakfast?”

“Indeed.”

Without pause, she threw the blankets off of herself, shivering slightly as the cold air washed over her, but relishing in the way his eyes widened and his nostrils flared at the sight of her naked form in the bright morning light, when she rose from the bed and reached for her shirt. He smiled in earnest while he sat up to unabashedly let his eyes roam over her as she got dressed, and then handed him his clothes. Downstairs, she headed for the fireplace first, while he went to the basement for food. They worked together without need for words to be spoken, as a kind of familiarity had now settled into the space between them, with their physical union having removed all forms of barriers from their shared lives. And once the meal was ready, they sat in front of the fire to eat, rather than move to the table, because on the pelt on the floor they could sit close, lean on each other and continue to steal touches as they pleased. Ember was amazed at how dissimilar her own body suddenly felt. It was no different that morning than it had been in the more than thirty years she’d come to know it, and yet, it behaved and felt unlike what she was used to. It was a subtle change, noticeable only in the periphery of her senses, but it was unmistakeable all the same. She had never felt better. Pero finished before her, and got up to return to the kitchen. She assumed that he was getting more bread, or perhaps refilling his cup of water, but he returned without either, instead holding a parcel. It was the same one that she’d brought in from the carrier that terrible day, when the black demon revealed itself to have followed them home after its initial attack. She’d forgotten all about it in the chaos that had ensued, leaving it on the floor in the kitchen thinking she’d ask him about it if and when opportunity arose, only to have it completely slip her mind. He sat down, and then handed it to her.

“When we were in Hallen, I saw this at a tradesman’s desk, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect it seemed for you. So, once I had everything else, and knew that my coin would suffice, I went back and bought it. I felt silly afterwards, because I knew that I’d bought it thinking it would make a good wedding-gift, even though I didn’t believe I’d ever have the privilege. But now, here we are.”

Stunned into silence by his confession, she merely held the parcel as she listened, feeling her heart swell with affection at the knowledge that even back then, when they were scarcely even friends, he’d dreamed of marrying her. She untied the string which held the package together, and carefully opened up the hemp covering, sucking in a surprised breath when the item was revealed. It was a cloak. But unlike any she’d seen or could ever hope to fabricate herself. The body of it was made of wool for warmth, but covered with a layer of silk on the outside, all of which had been dyed a deep green, lighter than the needles of a fir, but darker than grass. But it was also littered in embroidered flowers and feathers, made with a thin white silk thread, while the neck of it was covered with rare white reindeer fur, sewn down over the shoulders and upper back for added warmth. And into the fur, actual white feathers, the likes of which she’d never seen, had been attached, creating something of a mild plume fanning out from around the bearer’s neck, with smaller feathers closest to the skin, but getting progressively larger over the shoulders. They had to come from swans, as the largest ones were the length of her entire forearm. A steel clasp had been made to secure the garment at the front, polished to shine like the stars themselves.

“Pero… You could give this to a queen without fear of its inadequacy. You can’t possibly mean to give me this?”

“You are the only Queen to which I swear my allegiance, so actually, it would seem no more than proper.”

“But it’s too much. How could you even afford this; just how much coin do you have?”

“Not much now. Not that it matters, we’re both skilled enough to lend our services should the need for coin become dire, but with your masterful hunting abilities, I doubt we shall ever go hungry regardless.”

“But I have nothing for y-…”

He cut her off with a hand on her chin, pulling her mouth to his for a soft kiss, and then holding her face close while he spoke in a mere whisper against her lips.

“It’s yours. For no greater reason than that I want it to be. Not because I feel I need to buy you, as so many men do with the arrangements made between parents, giving the betrothed no choice of their own. I want you to have this only because it suits you, and perhaps because it would make me proud to see you in something so befitting your status, as I see it. Please, accept it.”

Entirely intoxicated by his closeness, and the deep timbre of his voice, all she could do was nod, before seeking his lips once more, but hungrier than he had sought hers. Heat was pooling in her center, building quickly into a fire that already rivalled the one beside them, and before she was aware she’d made the choice to, she was suddenly on his lap, seeking that sweet hardness against her core, even through her trousers. But his response, while warm and inviting, was less than she’d hoped for.

“Calm yourself, mi sueño, you are not yet ready to take me again.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

“Not when I very much can hurt you, if we’re not careful. And I will never let that happen, no matter how strong your desire.”

She pulled back, and slumped a little in his lap, but his arms tightened around her in response.

“But if you’re truly craving, I can help give you some relief.”

She considered that. But his hands or mouth, skilled and pleasant as they were, wasn’t what she truly wanted. Not now when she’d felt what his cock could do for her.

“No, I’ll rather wait for all of you.”

He smiled, a little brazenly.

“I must’ve done truly well, then, if you’ve already come to prefer my sword to every other part of me.”

She smirked in return.

“Yes, well, perhaps there isn’t that much else desirable about your grumpy old self.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his mockingly shocked expression, as he identified her playful undertone, and promptly decided to play along.

“I’ll just have to show you how wrong you are, then.”

But before he could, the front door burst open and Ash practically flooded the room with its dark mass, as it squeezed through the narrow opening in less time than what seemed possible for such a large creature. She flinched with fear and shock, grasping at Pero and scrambling to move away from the intruder. But beyond quickly helping her to get off of his lap, he didn’t move at all. He just met the demon’s eyes, until something seemed to overwhelm him, and he slumped where he sat.

Ash flooded Pero’s system the moment it entered the room, filling the air with its vibrations, and he could instantly feel how stressed the beast was. His heart was being pounded by the forcefulness of its strange communication, to such an extent that he doubled over and had to close his eyes against the pulsing waves. It was clearly driven to such increased intensity by a dire threat of some sort, meaning that something bad must be going on.

“Mmuuussst… leeeeave.”

“What’s happening?”

“Thheeeyy… aaarre cooommminnng.”

Its urgency increased even more, making the vibrations truly painful to endure, and he had to force his words out in strained huffs.

“Wh-y would… they… c-come here?”

Concerned by the way he sounded, Snow pulled him into her arms, undoubtedly trying to shield him, and he felt her flinch as the vibrations suddenly carried over to her. He doubted that she could hear the creature through him, but her skin was sensitive enough to perceive what was happening to him, and it only made her grip on him tighten.

“Fooor… yyoooouu.”

What? That made no sense, why would the others be coming for him? What was it that made him important to their war, or whatever this was? The vibrations were abruptly cut off when Ash broke eye-contact with him, and Pero looked up to see what it was doing, only to freeze in fear when he saw its mouth break open, revealing its impossibly sharp teeth, as black as the rest of it, before it came at him, closing its jaws over the same shoulder it had bitten him in before. He felt the teeth sink into his skin and flesh, but then something more was cutting through him, in almost the same places, but not quite. He screamed with the agonising pain, even as he remembered that his scars held a double set of teeth, while he’d only seen one set in the demon’s mouth before it bit down. Somehow, the second row must be concealed in the roof and bottom of its mouth, coming out only after it closed its jaws around its prey, or perhaps simply at will. He couldn’t remember if he’d felt any secondary pain when Ash had bitten him the first time, but those had been vastly different circumstances, and he likely wouldn’t have noticed such a detail among the many other sensations which had plagued him in that incident. Whatever the case might be, he was certain that both rows now remained seated in his body, as he felt something being pumped into his blood, and with each passing moment, he felt heavier and heavier, until he fell to the floor, and the surrounding world faded away. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that Snow was screaming and fighting for him, and the last thought which passed through his poisoned mind, was the hope that Ash wouldn’t harm her for trying to protect him. That he had been right to place a modicum of trust in the beast, and that it understood that he would never help it, if he woke up to find his wife in anything but her normal perfect state.

His wife.

***************

Link to Chapter 9

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day/night!

@sarahjkl82-blog @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @hounding-around @tobealostwanderer @deadhumourist @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @dihra-vesa @feminist-violinist @lowlights

#the lonely castle fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x ofc #pero tovar x female character #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall fic #fantasy #idiots in love #adorable idiots #romance #pero tovar smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

87 notes · View notes

rafaelblackbird15 · 3 years

Text

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this.

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation.

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power.

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

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Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

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your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

181 notes · View notes

ayanna-wild · 3 years

Text

Broken Wings

Word Count: 2921

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt, comfort

A/N: Request from Wattpad, for the sake of this story Lucifer and the reader will not be related, set somewhere between s1 and s2, and I have nothing against Amenadiel, but he was kind of a dick during s1 lol

Requests and Tag List are open

Summary: It was a simple matter of loving the wrong man, but you couldn’t control your heart. How was it fair for you to be punished? But life was cruel that way.

.................................................................................

You weren't an angel per-say. You had the wings, the immortality, yet you lacked the power that came with being a true angel. To be blunt you were a side project God had taken up before abandoning it to create humanity, more a helper to his children than anything.

The only of your kind.

With little other purpose you dutifully fulfilled your role as the aid, accompying the true angels to earth. A mundane existence, but one you tolerated.

Until Lucifer had taken an interest in you, life was so much better after that. So full of fun and laughter, he called for your help more than any of his brethren or sisters. Although he never really needed any assistance, it was all an excuse to steal you away for a while.

For centuries that was your life, and you were content with it if it meant spending more time with him. You two grew impossibly close and thought you'd be with him until the stars in the sky fizzled out.

But that was before, before the rebellion, before his banishment, before your existence dulled so drastically. Spending centuries, millenniums feeling as though you were missing out on something better.

Which is why you had so graciously agreed to accompany Amenadiel to earth. So he could once again fail at convincing his brother to return to hell. You masked your excitement surprisingly well, or Amenadiel was just incredibly oblivious. Either way you weren't complaining.

"You seem happy..."

Your wings fluttered a bit, unable to contain the smile on your face as you glanced at the dark skinned angel.

"Well it's nice to get out of heaven once and a while, you know?"

That was only partially a lie, you really did enjoy earth much more, but truthfully you were excited about seeing Lucifer after so long.

"No. Heaven is perfect. " Amenadiel stated bluntly.

You watched him walk inside from the balcony, hanging back a moment to mutter to yourself.

"For you maybe..."

Your wings folded into your back as you walked in, not the least bit surprised to see the brothers at each other's throats already.

"Such hostility from such divine beings."

Your sarcastic remark quickly drew the attention of the king of hell, who turned to you with a grin so wide you wondered if it hurt his face.

"Oh brother, you failed to mention you brought along this beautiful little creature. Y/N, it's an absolute pleasure to see you again."

Lucifer approached you with open arms, your smile matching his as he embraced you.

"It is her role to assist us." Amenadiel said as if that was the obvious answer.

Lucifer pulled away from you, noticing the way your shoulders sagged a bit at the elder angels words. The devil frowned a bit.

"Role? Are you still listening to such nonsense?" Lucifer scoffed.

Amenadiel rolled his shoulders, flexing his wings a little in irritation.

"It is our father's will. You should be following your role as well."

Lucifer clicked his tongue, strolling over to his bar.

"It became rather dull, so many years doing the same thing, a drab existence, isn't it angel?"

The ending was directed towards you, and you almost forgot yourself, almost allowed yourself to agree, in front of Amenadiel. It was a nickname he had given you centuries ago. His own way of telling you he saw you as his equal, unlike the others.

You were his angel.

"She's not a real angel Lucifer, don't try to fill her head with your rebellious nonsense."

His words stung a bit, but he wasn't entirely wrong, you weren't a true angel. That bit of fact didn't seem to lessen the blow to your pride though.

"With such exquisite wings as hers, who could tell the difference?" Lucifer winked at you.

You straightened your back, feeling proud of yourself, your wings always were your favorite feature. You took immaculate care of them. Just as quickly as Amenadiel tore you down Lucifer built you back, you supposed that was one of the things that had drawn you to him all those years ago.

"You're a disgrace."

You stepped between them, placing a hand on Lucifer's chest.

"Maybe I can talk to him? He was always at least willing to listen to me." You offered.

Amenadiel seemed to ponder this a moment before nodding.

"I'll return tomorrow, don't let him pull you into any of his schemes."

Lucifer scoffed at his brother's warning. You smiled softly.

"Of course."

With a flutter of wings he was gone, and you were left alone with the fallen angel. Without a moment to appreciate the silence, a cup of amber liquid was held in front of your face.

"Fancy a drink my dear? We have so much to catch up on."

You weren't sure how it happened, maybe it was the drinks, or the way he spoke to you, but you found yourself stumbling out of his bed the next morning. Panic surged through your veins as you hastily pulled your clothes back on, cursing softly. You regretted nothing, but there'd be hell to pay if any of the heavenly host caught you bedding the devil. Lucifer still slept soundly, and you tried your best not to wake him.

You rushed from his room, running straight into a broad chest causing you to stumble back a bit. Amenadiel stared at you with an uncomfortably blank expression, and your heart dropped.

"Amenadiel... I-"

Your world became a blur in the next second, and you fell forward as your feet unexpectedly hit the roof of a hotel.

"What were you thinking! Fornicating with Lucifer!"

You glanced up at him, snorting at his wording.

"Fornicating? For someone who comes to earth so frequently, your vocabulary is a little dated."

You couldn't help the poorly timed jab, humor your way if deflecting tense situations. Unfortunately for you that only seemed to make Amenadiel more angry.

"Have you no shame? You don't seem the least bit remorseful for the sin you just committed!" He shouted.

You flinched a little, sitting back on your ass as you stared up at him. Should you grovel? Beg for forgiveness?

That would be the logical thing to do, it was what he was expecting. But perhaps your short reunion with Lucifer had sparked something in you because you found yourself leaning back on your hands, staring up at the angel before you with no remorse.

"I regret nothing."

Blood soaked your once white shirt as you leaned against an alley wall, shifting most of your weight onto your side. Anything to avoid the crippling pain in your back. Tears stained your cheeks and burnt your eyes. Dry sobs shook your body, no tears left to cry.

He'd ripped your wings from your back, tore them from your body, taking your immortality with him. You barely registered the sound of footsteps, hardly heard the woman talking to you in concern. You just felt so tired, a feeling you weren't used to.

It'd be okay if you slept, just for a moment, right?

Chloe panicked as she saw your eyes close, waving frantically as the paramedics arrived just moments later. Her hands covered in your blood as she wondered who could have possibly done that to you.

You woke to steady beeping, and an uncomfortable feeling of something wrapped just a little too tight around you. Bright lights forced you to close your eyes almost as soon as you opened them. You took a moment to adjust as you sat up, looking around the unfamiliar room that you slowly realized was a hospital room.

It all seemed so... human.

The reality of your sudden mortality crashed down on you, and you carefully pulled the I.V. from your arm. You hissed as you quickly stood from the bed, the sudden movement causing pain to shot up your back.

You nearly collapsed.

But no, you had to leave, get out of this place before questions you couldn't possibly answer came. You gathered your ruined clothes, fleeing before anyone could notice.

You kept your head low as you left the building, the bandages on your back straining against your hasty movements.

"Hey!"

A voice called out, catching your attention and a blonde woman hurried over to you. You stared at her in confusion, and she looked you over with concern.

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't leave the hospital yet."

It suddenly clicked and your body tensed as you vaguely recognized her as the woman who found you.

"I'll be fine."

She looked ready to protest, and you grabbed her hands in desperation.

"Please... I just can't be there..."

She seemed to relent a little, and you breathed a sigh of relief until she told you her name. Then you found yourself begging her not to tell Lucifer anything, and she promised not to utter a word, if you told her what happened to you.

It had to have been the greatest lie you ever told, a fabricated story about a scorned lover. She believed it nonetheless, offering to help you get a change of clothes. Something less covered in blood, you went straight to Lucifer afterwards, carefully hiding what had happened.

Perhaps he trusted you too much, or maybe you were getting better at lying because he didn't question your claim to want to stay on Earth. He seemed thrilled, and you hid your pain with a smile when he embraced you, thankful your new jacket hid the bandages.

For months that was the routine, a difficult dance to move to, especially with how close you two were becoming once more. But you'd stop his hands before they could trail up your back in your more heated moments, directed his attention to something else. You were so careful not to let him see your back.

Careful to never let him follow you into the shower. Careful never to sleep on your side, or let him give you a back rub. Always avoiding Chloe, lest she bring up your injuries. You were so careful, for months.

So why had you forgotten to lock the door while you were getting dressed?

"Should we order out again darling? Perhaps from that little coffee shop you so like much? I heard they have a new..."

Lucifer had barged into the bathroom, clad in only his underwear and robe loosely tied as he questioned what you wanted for breakfast. Your whole body froze, mind shutting down as his words came to an abrupt stop. The atmosphere of the room suddenly felt thick, and you could have sworn it became harder to breath.

Lucifer said nothing, staring at your horribly scared back. You held your shirt to your chest, refusing to turn and meet his eye. Worried what emotion you might find. He had moved so quietly, and so quickly that you jumped when his fingers were suddenly grazing your back. Just below the rough skin where your beautiful wings had once been.

"Who did this to you..."

It was more of a soft demand then a question, but you hesitated.

"I... I cut them off..."

He chuckled a dry, humorless chuckle, and he draped his robe over your shoulders. Probably realizing you'd be more comfortable if you could cover your scars. You muttered a thank you and his hands rested on your arms, rubbing soothingly up and down as you grabbed the silk robe, holding it tighter around you.

"Those aren't the scars you get from cutting your wings, I would know. No, those are harsh, angry scars, something tearing wings off would cause. Don't lie to me angel, who did this?"

His grip tightened on your arms ever so slightly, but it wasn’t out of anger, at least not towards you.

"Amenadiel..." Your voice was so faint you barely heard yourself, but judging by the sharp intake of breath, he had heard you just fine.

"What?"

"A punishment... for being with you..."

You caught his reflection in the mirror, the flash of his eyes, his face shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough for you to realize just how angry he truly was.

"Lucifer-"

He turned on his heel, leaving the room and getting dressed in a fury. You approached him cautiously, closing the robe around you and tying it into place.

"What are you doing?"

He finished buttoning his shirt before turning back to you.

"I need you to do me a favor my dear."

A frown pulled at your lips, but you slowly nodded.

"Pray to my brother."

You jerked back as if someone had physically slapped you.

"What?"

"You trust me, don't you?" He smiled, but there was something in his eyes, something that unnerved you.

"Of course."

He seemed so calm, contrary to what he had been just moments ago.

"Then pray to my brother."

He guided you into the living room and stepped just out of sight. You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before finally doing as he asked. It only took moments before Amenadiel appeared in front of you.

He'd come so fast, probably expecting you to beg for forgiveness.

You had no idea how vastly unprepared you were to see him again. Your hands trembled, and you held the robe closer around you, taking an unsure step back.

You didn't have time to dwell on it and Amenadiel had no time to say anything before a sickening crack filled the room and the angel was sprawled out on the ground.

"Hello brother."

You blinked slowly, taking a second to catch up with the fact that Lucifer had just delivered a crippling blow to his brother's face and Amenadiel laid dazed on the ground. Blindsided by the unexpected blow. Lucifer gave him no time to recover, picking him up by his neck carelessly throwing him into a wall. You shielded your eyes from the debris flying by.

"I've just had the unpleasant surprise of discovering what you did to my darling little slice of heaven."

You wordlessly watched Amenadiel pull himself out of the now prominent hole in Lucifer's stone wall. He was unsteady on his feet, but that mattered very little to Lucifer who swiftly grabbed his brother's shirt, tossing him across the floor as if he weighed nothing.

"And they call me the devil." Lucifer scoffed.

Amenadiel managed to at least prop himself up with his arms, spitting out a bit of blood.

"You are the devil, Lucifer, and she betrayed heaven by being with you."

Lucifer took a step forward, clearly ready to continue the one-sided fight. But you quickly stepped in front of him, worried he might go to far, if his red eyes were anything to go off of.

"Just let him leave, you made your point. You're flogging a dead horse at this point." You uttered, refusing to glance at the angel pulling himself off the ground.

"She received a punishment fitting her sin and she still crawled back to you."

Your skin bristled at his comment, and you found your unease fading away to anger. You rounded on him so fast you surprised even yourself at the words spilling from your lips.

"My sin!? You think you're a saint, but you're no better than me! It wasn’t sin Amenadiel, it was free will, if humans can have it why can't I?"

Amenadiel narrowed his eyes as he stood, but you didn't back down.

"You sound just like Lucifer."

You found yourself laughing at that, and with a sudden burst of confidence you shoved his chest back a bit. His beating from Lucifer making it slightly easier to do so. Speaking of the devil, he watched you unleash your anger, gazing at you with amusement and satisfaction.

"Good! You know what, I should have sided with him during that rebellion! Because he seemed to have the right idea! Heaven might have been perfect for you, but it was hell to me! I was beneath all of you, an errand girl for you to degrade, treat like shit!"

Lucifer pulled you back a little when he saw the anger in his brother's eyes. You were mortal now after all. You let out a cruel laugh, though there were tears in your eyes.

"Do you want to know the best part it all?"

Your laughter died down, and you gave him a cynical smile.

"I don't owe the Silver City a goddamn thing anymore, you think you were punishing me? You freed me, you and all your kind can go to hell, because if anyone belongs there it certainly isn't Lucifer."

Amenadiel opened his mouth to say something, taking what he probably assumed was a menacing step towards. But Lucifer rested his hands on your shoulders, daring his kin to try something. You didn't seem fazed though.

"Run back home and lick your wounds like the obedient lapdog you are. I'm not wasting any more words on you."

Amenadiel clenched his fists in repressed rage, but said nothing, not in any condition to fight his brother. He was gone in a blink, and you felt all the energy drain out of you. Lucifer caught you as your legs gave out, and he smiled proudly at you.

"You were marvelous love, I'd nearly forgotten how sharp your tongue can be."

You laughed breathlessly, and he brushed your hair away from your eyes.

"How do you feel?"

You smiled up at him, the heavy feeling finally lifting from your shoulders.

"Free."

................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @aiofheavenandhell @beththedemonhunter

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar one shot #luciferonnetflix #luciferonfox #lucifer morningstar x you

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mithrilhearts · 2 years

Note

How about two of my faves?

Teacup-Ori and Vampire!AU Bilbo? 🤣

Oh my god thank you!! This was a lot of fun and very weird!! And the best part about it is that my word block decided not to be a bitch and let me whip this out really fast!!

Thank you, my friend. I hope this lives up to your expectations!!!

What character(s) from my different fics do you want to see interact?? Let me know and I’ll do a small thing!!

Dragonhearted Ori + Where The Shadows Lie Bilbo under the cut!

“I fucking hate him.”

This was the last time that Bilbo ever listened to Frerin on anything.

“Put on the pretty necklace, Bilbo, I’m sure Thorin will maul you afterward,” Bilbo griped low to himself as a low-hanging gem sat around his neck, jingling slightly against the chain that held it. “Bloody cursed thing.” It’s not that Bilbo wanted to gain Thorin’s attention, but going through a few old Durin belongings…well…it had been fun! And the pretty multicolored gem had caught Bilbo’s eye. There was a lesson to be learned here–vampires were awful creatures, most of them cursed by some tragic backstory, but Frerin was the worst of the worst.

Sometimes when Bilbo blinked, he could still hear his cackling in the background.

Bilbo had passed out upon putting on that dreadful charm and when his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, at first he had thought it a simple dream. Something stupid from watching and reading too many fantasy pieces, but the longer he wandered in these vast dark halls of stone, the more real it became. For instance, he’d pricked the tip of his finger against some metal and that didn’t wake him up. It was felt, and it stung. Shouldn’t the vampires have come rushing like that Twilight movie? Papercuts and stuff.

Whatever.

“Mister Bilbo!”

A soft, and somewhat familiar voice called, practically echoing through one of many halls that looked exactly the same as the last. It sounded a lot like Ori, which would be a rather pleasant sight considering he was one of few who didn’t grate against Bilbo’s skin like a bad rash.

“Mister Bilbo, there you are! His Majesty has been looking for you–”

Though as Bilbo looked for the source of that voice, his eyes drifted down so far that his glasses nearly slipped off the bridge of his nose. Bilbo’s lips pursed tightly, keeping some sort of loud exclamation sealed away behind them as he stared towards a teacup that looked…like it had some Ori features to it. Was it a complaint or a laugh wanting to crawl up his throat right now? This was starting to look like some straight-up Disney bullshit. Maybe it WAS a dream? Pricked fingers could be explained later, he supposed.

“You look different,” Ori observed with a cautious tone. “What happened to your ears?”

“My ears?! What happened to you!?” He finally squealed, pointing an accusatory finger towards the teacup before crouching down for a better view–and carefully cupping his ears in the process. “My ears are fine…” Rounded off just like everyone else’s. “I’ve gotta be hallucinating…” Bilbo huffed to himself.

“Oh…did Bofur put those funny little herbs into Dori’s tea again? We’ve told him time and time to stop doing that! Even before the dragon’s enchantment took over, it would send our Elvish friends home in such a state of disarray–”

Bilbo’s face went blank with a hand shooting up to rub at his eyes. “What…what are you even talking about? Elves? A dragon’s curse?” No more fantasy novels or movies for a long time after this.

Ori simply stared at Bilbo with a small smile curving onto the porcelain that he was made of. For a teacup, he sure radiated patience at this very moment. “We ought to get you to bed, Thorin would be most displeased to see you in such a state…he’d probably throw Bofur into the fireplace! Follow me, please.”

Why Bilbo complied, he had no idea, but he also had no reason not to aside from the fact that this felt like a bad dream luring him into something worse.

“I never got the chance to ask, but did you enjoy your dance the other night?”

“What dance?” Bilbo didn’t dance, of that he was very certain.

“The one with Thorin? We were all quite curious as to how it would have gone. Are you sure you’re okay? Perhaps we ought to get you checked out for an illness…”

“No, no, it’s fine. Keep telling me about this dance.” A dance with Thorin though, now that sounded intriguing, and perhaps a little tempting. Though Bilbo could hardly imagine the grumpy vampire entertaining him with a dance of any sort.

“Okay,” Ori sounded skeptical but continued to humor an obviously under the weather Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. “Thorin seemed beyond smitten just looking at you, did you notice? It wasn’t the gold coat, but you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush so hard between the scales–”

“Scales?”

“The ones on his nose in particular.”

This dream-Thorin had scales on his face, an enchanted mountain with a teacup companion…this was some Beauty and The Beast nonsense, wasn’t it? But like…in dragon form. That explained the whole ‘dragon’s enchantment’ thing, didn’t it? Thorin, big broody and grumbly Thorin, as some beast cast away in a castle?

“Yeah, that checks.” Bilbo had seen and heard stranger things before–look at the crew that was currently taking up every inch of space in his Bed and Breakfast! However, this seemed just slightly worse. If only his Thorin could be a little more besotted. Perhaps in due time.

Bilbo just needed to find the beauty behind the beast, huh?

The thought had caused Bilbo to stop, a small grin on his face as he was lost in thought as it caught the attention of Ori the teacup.

“Bilbo? Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all. I appreciate your insight into the whole…dance thing. It just reminded me of something I’ve forgotten.”

“What’s that?”

“Something…something about a grumbly royal and a rose…”

This seemed to go well with Ori. “I’ll have Dori set out some proper tea for whenever you decide to retire. Do tell Thorin he can stop his fussing, you’re just fine.”

“Oh, I’ll tell him alright.”

“Goodnight, Mister Bilbo.”

“Thank you Ori and…well, until we meet again, I guess.” Offering the confused teacup a small wave, Bilbo trotted off to at least look like he knew where he was going before he was alone once more. Glancing down towards the gem hanging around his neck, Bilbo let a soft hum of thought buzz between his lips. First and foremost, no one was going to believe this wild ass dream of his, and secondly…did Thorin like roses? Or dancing? Perhaps it was that soft heart of Bilbo’s that was being impacted by a few words from an imaginary dream-teacup Ori.

But it never hurt to try these things, did it?

After all, Thorin had proven that he wasn’t a total beast all the time. Like the song went: there’s something sweet, and almost kind–and Bilbo was going to find that side of the vampire.

As the amulet was slipped off and Bilbo’s world sank into darkness once more, he was determined to find something there that wasn’t there before.

#raz answers #idnmt #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #ori #teacup ori #fic: dragonhearted #fic: where the shadows lie #wednesday word play #THIS WAS A LOT OF FUN #razzywrites

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bangtanloverboys · 3 years

Text

song of the broken hearted // pjm

summary - after finding your boyfriend of two years in bed with another woman, you find yourself wandering the beach at the edge of town. little do you know, there's something in the water, waiting for you. wanting you to join them.

pairing - siren!jimin x female!reader

genre - angst, suspense, mystery, thriller; siren au

word count - 4.2k

warnings - recent break up, mentioned cheating, namjoon is an asshole, mentions/talk of suicide, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, drowning, sad ending, murder i guess?

author’s note - this is slightly inspired by the webtoon siren’s lament but not really; enjoy!

Love sucked. Honestly, you don’t know why you kept on trying to date with your history of bad relationships. Sure maybe some weren’t all that bad; right person, wrong time. But for the majority of them looking back, there was a sea of red flags all over. You don’t know how you could’ve missed them. Then again, you couldn’t help but feel you willingingly looked over them. Ignoring them because deep down you didn’t want to be alone.

Whatever the reason might’ve been, you somehow always ended up getting your heart broken.

The last relationship however stung a lot more than your others. Maybe because your exes were upfront with why they wanted to end things with you, which was the usual “not feeling the spark anymore” bullshit. Namjoon, your recent ex, had decided that you were never worth it apparently, seeing as how he admitted to cheating on you and for the entirety of your two year relationship! Worst part was, he didn't even plan on telling you! You’d only found out by accident, having decided to come over to surprise him at his place when you saw him in bed with a girl you’d recognized from his work. Namjoon didn’t even try to defend himself, only rolling his eyes at you while you shouted at him.

Furious and your heart in shatters, you stormed out of his house and just kept walking. You don’t know how long you walked, but it was until you hit the sand of a nearby beach. It was the middle of fall, so besides a few stragglers, it was nearly abandoned.

With the sun setting below the horizon, you shucked off your shoes and kept walking. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore filled your mind as the salty sea air grounded you. Once you reached where the water hit against the sand, you sat yourself down, watching the tide rise up ever so slowly.

All alone, the realization of what had happened was settling in. Tears began to burn as you blinked them back. You didn’t want to cry. You shouldn’t waste tears on a man who clearly never cared about you. But your heart was weak and your mind wasn’t strong enough to keep it together. Wrapping your arms around your legs, you tucked yourself into your knees, as you quietly sobbed.

You don’t know how long you sat there crying, trying your hardest not to attract any attention to yourself. When you looked up again, it was significantly darker, and a cool breeze brushed over your tear streaked face. Glancing up, you could see the stars just beginning to appear up in the vast darkness of the night sky.

In your mind’s eye, you could still see Namjoon, laying there in his bed unresponsive as you screamed at him, calling him all sorts of nasty names. He’d only shrugged when you asked him why, but his words stung more than any other break up speech you’ve ever heard, and his was only a sentence, “You’re not worth the full commitment.” The statement rang in your ears as you stared over the roaring black sea. Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren’t worth the commitment.

A sob unconsciously ripped from your lips as you hugged yourself tighter. The thought was daunting, but was it true? You were rarely the person who broke up with someone, only having ended relationships back in high school. But was the “not feeling the same spark” just a different way to word that you weren’t worth committing to?

Your mind spiraled with those dark thoughts, not knowing what else to think, when a beautiful voice was heard singing over the thundering waves. Perking up, you looked around, trying to find the singer, but spotted no one. The beach had been completely abandoned. You listened intently to the song, trying to place where it was coming from, but the more you listened, the more you felt at ease. All the muscles in your body relaxed as the singer continued on. A sigh fell from your lips as you rose from your spot on the sand. You had to find the owner of this voice, needed it more than anything.

As you listened on, there was a tingling feeling inside you, telling you the singing was coming from the ocean. Taking a step further, the voice got a little louder. With each step you took, your mind got fuzzier and fuzzier, nothing else mattered but the voice you heard. The cold water didn’t even phase you as it rolled over your feet, in fact the cold felt comforting as it hit against your legs. The further you waded into the water, the louder the voice got, but you saw no one around that could be the source of the singing.

You were nearly waist deep in the water, ready to dive in and swim toward the voice when another deep shout was heard from behind you “Hey!” drowning out the song and pulling back towards reality. “What are you doing out there? Beach is closed!” The voice continued to shout.

Suddenly the freezing water no longer felt as comfortable as it was moments ago. Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw what you presumed to be a lifeguard. You raised your arm, signaling to him you heard and began walking back towards the shore.

Upon reaching the beach, you were approached by the brown haired man, wearing the signature red lifeguard jacket. You must’ve looked like a mess as a look of shock went over his face. “You alright, miss?”

“I’m fine,” you responded, shivering in your soaking wet clothes.

Biting his lip, he shed his jacket and put it over your shoulders, a poor attempt at warming you up. “Are you sure you’re alright? Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”

“I said I’m fine,” you insisted, hugging the red material closer to your body.

He eyed you suspiciously before nodding. “Alright. But I’m going to have to escort you off the beach.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” you sighed, irritation lacing your voice. He turned before started back inland, leaving you alone for a brief moment. You stared back over the rolling black ocean, hoping to hear the voice again, yet all you heard was the crash of the waves.

Two days had passed since you were at the beach and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t remember the song you heard. Late at night, you’ll stare up at your ceiling and walk yourself through that night over and over again, trying your damnedest to recall the voice, yet you came up with nothing. You couldn’t name a tune, a note, nor even if the singer was male or female. You were beginning to feel like you had simply gone crazy for a few moments, hallucinating the voice. But with the way you remembered feeling when you heard that song, how all your troubles seemingly were whisked away and how free you felt; there’s no way you couldn’t have imagined it.

There was one thing you knew though: you had to hear it again.

Which was how you found yourself staring back at the ocean, the sun hanging low in the sky. You were on a more secluded area of the beach, a small cove surrounded by cliffs; a slight precaution to ensure you wouldn’t be interrupted again. You watched as the waves rose and crashed against the sand, waiting. You weren’t even sure how, when, or even if the voice would sing again. But you sat there patiently.

As the sun fell behind the horizon and the sky grew darker, you slowly began to lose hope. Maybe you were imagining it. Maybe you were so dehydrated from crying for so long and desperate for anything to make you feel any other emotion, you made up the voice to distract you from your broken heart.

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot on the sand. After dusting the sand off, you began to gather your things in preparation for the small trek back inland. As you straightened up again, you heard it.

The song.

Dropping all your stuff to the ground, you turned to face the raging sea. The singing was emitting from the waters, barely audible over the crashing of the waves. You felt the familiar tingling spread throughout your body as you stepped towards the water again. Like last time, the singing got louder and louder the further you went out. You could tell the water was freezing, yet you didn’t feel it. It felt like you were being wrapped up in a blanket, all soft and safe.

Unable to walk any further, you started swimming. Dunking your head beneath the surface, the singing was clearer and louder underwater. Your mind was cloudy, wanting to do deeper, to follow the voice. Back up for air, you took a big gulp of air before diving back down into the darkness. The salt water burned your eyes as you looked around, trying to find the source of the song, but it was coming from everywhere. It was all around you.

Your arms grew tired as you pushed deeper and your lungs were burning for air as you swam further down. Every single fiber of your body wanted you to return to above the surface, wanting to breathe. Yet your mind, all cloudy and full of cotton, wanted you to push on. Keep swimming down. Find the voice.

Farther down, you saw a strange outline in the darkness. It was too big to be a fish, yet it was moving around so fluidly that it had to be some sort of aquatic creature. You weren’t sure if it was your state of mind, or the fact you were slowly losing air, but you knew that whatever that creature was, it was the source of the song.

You swam even harder now, wanting to get closer to it to see it. But dark spots started creeping through your already blurry vision. The pain your body was in sent a small shock through you, clearing your mind just enough to realize that you needed air. As you pushed yourself back up towards the surface, you heard a faint “Stay with me” echo around in your head.

You gasped once you broke the surface, air filling your weakened lungs. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead, like you were going to sink back down. Yet your body floated, being pushed around by the waves back towards the shore. Despite just hearing the song, you were unable to recall it yet again. Like your mind had erased the singing from your memory. However, you could still recall the voice, speaking out for you, wanting you to stay. You must be some sort of delirious, as you wanted to follow the request, even still debating on going back down.

Your weak body washed up against the sand. You were so tired. You didn’t think you’d be able to stand up, let alone walk all the way back home. Crawling away from the water, sand clung to your soaking body. You couldn’t even be bothered by it, you were just too exhausted. Your arms gave out once you reached your things, the sand was warm in contrast to your cold body. With a shiver, you curled up on your side and let your eyes fall shut. You’ll sleep for a few minutes, letting your body regain its lost energy.

You were back underwater, your vision a lot clearer than before. The shadowy figure still below you, appearing so close yet so far. However, as you swam deeper, you swore the creature was coming towards you. Reaching out for it, a slimy slick hand grabbed yours. Just barely you were able to make out the features of the creature. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting as it faced you, but you were surprised nonetheless. A male human-like face looked back at you, his skin a ghastly grey color. His eyes were almost completely black, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Dark locks swirled around him, framing his face delicately.

He was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Plump lips melted into a smile as he hand moved to cup your cheek, his clammy fingers brushing against your cheeks. As you leaned into his touch, the song filled your mind. Your head felt all cottony and soft as the singing echoed amongst the water surrounding you. You reached out with your own hand, but as your fingers grazed against his skin, his loving gaze turned sour. His lips parted, and he hissed as he lunged forward.

You awoke with a start, gasping loudly. Above you, the morning sun was shining brightly behind heavy clouds. It was just a dream. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest as you sat up, the ocean raging even louder than last night. With a stretch, you got yourself back to your feet. Your clothes had dried overnight, yet they were stiff and coated with sand, not making them any less uncomfortable. Thankfully, it appeared that no one attempted to steal your things while you slept as your belongings were still on the sand next to you. Gathering up your stuff, you began the walk back towards your home.

As you made your way back to the more populated side of the beach, you saw the brown haired lifeguard from the other night making his way toward the cove. When he saw you walking away from that section of the beach, he stopped in his tracks. He had a puzzled look on his face before slowly turning to approach you.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you but. . . did you sleep on the beach last night?” He eyed you up and down, taking in your sand covered body.

“Yes. . .” You responded cautiously, hoping you weren’t going to get in too much trouble.

“Okay, because someone reported a body to be over in that area and uh, no offense-”

“I look like a dead body?” You raised a brow at him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He chuckled nervously. “But this beach is common for suicides, so I wanted to make sure-”

“Wait what?”

“Uh, police like to keep in on the low but several people have washed up on this beach after drowning. They’re all ruled as suicide because there’s no signs of any struggle. But if you ask me,” he leaned forward, lowering his already deep voice to a whisper, “someone or something is luring them out there.”

You furrowed your brows as you remembered the singing and how it drew you out to follow it. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve looked into it a bit. These so-called ‘suicides’ have happened several times over the past 50 years or so, all on this beach. And they never have any history of mental health issues, or depression,” the lifeguard explained as the two of you started walking away from the water and towards the tower.

“Why are they getting labeled suicides then?”

“Because days before they’re found, they all had a really bad break up.” Your eyes widened at him as he continued to talk. “So the police think they just couldn’t take it, thus suicide.”

“Did they. . . say anything before they died? Leave any notes?” You questioned further.

“I mean, most of them died the night of the break up. But there’s one that did leave something, I wouldn’t classify it as a note though.”

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it didn’t say anything about the break up or wanting to end their lives, it was just ramblings about some song.” He shrugged as you reached the tower. “Pretty sure you could find it somewhere on the internet, there’s a small conspiracy surrounding it all. But everyone agrees with the police.”

“Right, thank you.” You nodded, feeling a bit sick to your stomach.

“Y-you wouldn’t happen to know something, do you?” His voice was laced with concern.

He reached out to you, but you pulled away from his grasp. “I-I need to go.” With not a second to lose, you turned on your feet as you made a beeline towards the end of the beach, the lifeguard calling after you, but unable to follow.

You felt like your whole world was spinning as you entered your home. You could barely think straight with the knowledge you were given. The mere thought of how close you came to being one of those mysterious suicides was nauseating. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it until the lifeguard mentioned the note about the song. . . Then you remembered how your lungs ached and burned from last night, it was impossible to deny that you had barely slipped away from whatever was calling out from the ocean below.

Stripping yourself of your sandy clothing, you made your way towards your bathroom. You needed a shower. No longer able to think or be in the clothes you nearly drowned in. Hot water ran down your back as you leaned against the wall, trying to wrap your head around it all. There was one thing you knew for certain, and that was you could not return to the beach.

As the water rushed down your body, you were able to get some semblance of peace. You gave a sigh of relief as you felt your body relax against the warm water. Shutting your eyes, you leaned your head back underneath the stream of water.

Then you heard it again.

The singing.

Eyes snapping open, you turned to look up at the showerhead, the water still gushing out as the song echoed against the tiled walls. Was it coming from the pipes? As you peered up into the silver nozzle, the warm water suddenly turned ice cold. With a yelp, you shut off the water. Unlike before, the song still played on in your mind. You could still hear it perfectly.

Not even bothering to grab a towel, you scrambled over to your phone and connected it to your speakers, blasting the loudest rock song you could think of. The shelf your speaker was resting on shook with the base, unable to take the booming music. Yet the eurythmic tune still rang in your ears. To your horror, the blaring music melted into the strange melody , getting louder and louder until it felt like your ears were bleeding.

Tearing at your hair, you let out an ungodly scream. You fell to your knees, curling up on the floor, stuffing your fingers in your ears to try and block out the song. The song still played on in your mind to no avail. As tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill, it all stopped. The only sound you were able to hear was the muffled noise of the sock music you’d turned on against your covered ears.

Unplugging your ears, you could hear a faint knocking on your front door. With shaking limbs, you pushed yourself up right. Grabbing your phone, you turned off the music, the knocking still persisting at the door. You scrambled back to your bathroom, quickly wrapping yourself up in a towel before making your way over to answer the front door.

Peering through the peephole, you spotted your neighbor standing before the door. Pulling the door open a crack, you gave her a smile. “Hi Mrs. Kim.”

“Is everything alright? Someone said they heard a scream,” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned for you.

“Oh uh, that was me,” you confessed, “m-my boyfriend and I were having sex. And he, uh, got a bit carried away.” You internally cringed at the lie, but you knew you couldn’t exactly reveal you were hearing a mysterious song that was driving slowly beginning to drive you insane.

She furrowed your brows at your answer. No doubt assuming you were in danger, she lowered her voice. “Honey, do you need me to call someone?”

“No! I’m fine. We’re good. I’m so sorry for scaring you, that’s why the music was so loud.” You chuckled nervously as you began to shut the door, but she placed her hand on the door, ceasing any movement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. Again, sorry for the disturbance.” Then you slammed the door shut, not giving her any other chance to question you further. You held your breath until you heard the clicking of her shoes as she walked down the pavement, away from you. Once she was gone, you slid down the door. Hitting the ground, you let go of your towel, letting yourself sit naked on the ground as you let your body calm down from all that had happened.

You weren’t sure exactly what to do, or how you were supposed to move on from this because clearly avoiding the beach won’t be enough. For a split second, you considered moving further inland; get away from large bodies of water, or maybe water all together, but the idea was ridiculous. You couldn’t avoid water for the rest of your life; you had to hydrate, bathe yourself, hell what would happen if you started crying or sweating? It was an impossible thought to simply avoid water as a whole, but moving further inland wasn’t a bad start.

Getting to your feet, you started packing a bag. You couldn’t care exactly what clothes you were going to wear or for weather you should prepare for, just stuffing the bag of your belongings until you deemed yourself done. Bag packed, you dressed yourself in some of the clothes still remaining in your dresser. After you put your shoes on, you made your way out of your apartment.

Immediately, you were greeted with rain pouring down. With a sigh, you walked out from beneath the overhang, ready to walk to the nearest train station. Soon as you stepped out into the rainfall, the singing again filled your mind. You froze as the overwhelming urge to return to the beach slowly grew in the back of your mind. Yet your body refused to follow through, like it knew what was going to happen if you went to that beach. Your grip tightened on your bag as you resisted the pull of the song, but it grew too much. Dropping your bag, you began walking back towards the beach.

Each step you took, the louder the hypnotic melody grew. By the time you’d reached the sand, you were all but consumed by it. The beach was empty as you crossed it, no sign of any other human being. Sand clung to your soaking wet clothes, as if it was the world’s last ditch attempt to tether you to the earth, but the sand simply washed away as you stepped into the water.

The intoxicating song reverberated around in your head, drowning out the smatter of the rain as you walked further out into the water. No longer able to keep walking, you took a deep breath and dove beneath the waves. You kicked and kicked down until you spotted a familiar outline.

It was the creature!

Unable to contain yourself, you pushed your limbs faster in an attempt to propel yourself deeper. As you swam further down, you noticed the shadow was getting larger; it was swimming towards you, just like in your dream! Reaching out, you felt the familiar thick slime of the hand as it wrapped around your wrist, pulling you in towards its embrace. Despite the darkness surrounding the both of you and the blurriness of your vision, you knew deep in you that this was the same man from your dream. The source of the song.

His other slick hand came up to cup your cheek, and again, the same voice from the other night echoed in your mind. “Stay with me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, ‘yes’ but immediately water flooded in. Before you even began choking on the salty seawater, the man covered his mouth with yours. You stilled for a moment, a split second of clarity hitting you before you felt his lips begin to move against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you returned the kiss, ignoring the burning in your lungs as air slowly slipped away. Completely and utterly drunk on his song and his lips.

He didn’t pull away from you as the man leaned back, pulling you down deeper into the ocean. You never felt the kick of his legs as you were taken further into the fathomless darkness.

Pressure began to accumulate on your temples before slowly spreading over your head. The pain grew too much and you pushed yourself away from his kiss, bubbles escaping past your lips. Opening your eyes, you could no longer see anything, the darkness having completely surrounded you. Yet you knew he was still there, holding onto you as you felt his grip on your tighten as he pulled you deeper.

Wanting to fight back, you raised a fist, but your body was weak. You were running out of air and the pressure was becoming too much. You felt your entire body go slack in his hold. It was hard to tell in the endless blackness, but dark spots began to dance around your vision. You weren’t sure if you’d even closed your eyes or not. How long had it been? Were you out of oxygen yet? You slumped against the hold of the mysterious creature. You could feel its chest vibrating; humming the song to lull you into sleep as your body was pulled into the abysmal darkness.

#btsghostie #jimin x reader #bts x reader #bts angst #mermaid jimin #siren jimin #bts siren au #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfiction #reader insert

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

Text

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...)

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

__________________

When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath.

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards.

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask.

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.”

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise.

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact.

He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..."

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you."

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve.

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut.

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check.

"It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.”

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow."

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew.

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on.

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.”

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up.

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink.

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.”

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him.

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.”

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room.

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit.

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering.

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.”

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it.

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was.

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ‘round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father.

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.”

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket.

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.”

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes.

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way.

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit.

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob.

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.”

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit.

“G’night, miss Y/N.”

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?”

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns.

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer.

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world.

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone.

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give.

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights.

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x reader #Arvin Russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x you #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Divine (Dogs) Intervention

Pairing: Megumi x Reader

Prompt: Accidental Kiss

Summary: Megumi forms his own views of love

A/N: This is for the Anilysium SFW Collab. Masterlist can be found here!

Megumi sighs in relief, grateful for the peace and quiet the further he treks into the woods surrounding Jujutsu High. As much as he’s become accustomed to Nobara’s snide but clever remarks and Itadori’s silly cheerful ramblings, he cherishes the time he can truly be by himself, one with nature, one with the darkness and shadows curling inside, calling to him.

He takes a careful look around, eyes narrowing as he tries to find any hint of Gojo’s cursed energy lingering anywhere. But deeming himself well and truly alone, he grins, hands coming together and forming a seal, letting his guard down as his divine dogs wag their tails, growling and jumping around him playfully.

Megumi knows the rest of the Zenin clan would sneer and mock him if they saw how he lets the shikigami play, how he pets and coddles them as if they really were just two oversized dogs. But after all the pain and loneliness they’ve caused him, that he’s suffered through, he thinks he’s allowed some indulgences. And if that small relief comes in the form of two black and white furry packages, so be it.

He blames the fact that it’s a rare day without missions or lessons for his carelessness, for the way he doesn’t sense your presence. But fortunately for him, his dogs aren’t nearly as oblivious and his eyes widen in alarm as they cease their scuffle with each other, ears and heads suddenly alert. And suddenly they’re racing off into the distance, deeper and deeper into the forest, and it’s all he can do to keep them within view as he chases after the two excited creatures.

Megumi’s tempted to call their names, order them to stop, but a sense of curiosity and apprehension keeps him quiet and he continues to trail silently, on guard about what exactly has caught their attention. He hones in on the energy surrounding him, expanding his senses, broader and broader…

There.

The presence is so human, so normal, it’s no surprise it had completely slipped underneath Megumi’s radar. He feels his shoulder loosen, only to tense in mortification when he hears a crash and finds his two gigantic dogs pinning you to the ground, panting, licking, and slobbering all over your face as you squeal and flail.

“Off! Get off her!”

Megumi rolls his eyes in fond exasperation as the dogs whine at the harshness of his tone, bouncing back and forth from licking and nudging his hand for head pats to prove he’s not too angry (which he grants them) to giddily nuzzling their noses against your face, sniffing you curiously but barking happily when you get over your initial shock and begin to coo and pet them as you sit up.

You certainly don’t seem like a threat and Megumi allows himself to relax and observe you when he ascertains that you’re just a civilian who’s accidentally found themselves here. He hasn’t met many humans outside of the small circle of jujutsu sorcerers he’s been raised among and he can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia, a sense of what-ifs as he watches you, so carefree, so innocent, so naive as you pet and play with what you think are just two adorable dogs. He wonders if that’s what his life could have been like too if his parents were still around, if he’d never gotten entangled with Gojo, with the Zenin, with jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knows better than to dream, forced too early on to understand how heavy the weight of reality is and he brings himself back to the present. He offers you a hand to help you stand, apologizing for his dogs, although he snorts about how clearly not sorry they are as they continue circling between and around your legs, practically begging for more attention.

“You really shouldn’t be here. These are the school’s private grounds.”

Even Megumi winces at how harsh he sounds and he awkwardly rubs the back of his head as you flinch, frantically apologizing and looking like you’re about to run to be anywhere else but here.

“But if you want to stick around just for today while I’m here, that’s fine…”

He trails off, ducking his face underneath the high collar of his uniform to hide the red flush gracing his visage as you gratefully beam at him, eyes sparkling, smile radiant.

But the dogs boredly circling the two of you and tired of whining for attention are not nearly as enamored with your demeanor as Megumi and suddenly two heavy weights are leaping on Megumi’s back, forcing him to topple forward, bringing you down with him. And as your bodies crash to the ground, your lips meet.

Physical intimacy is not something Megumi has ever had the chance to become closely acquainted with, platonic or romantic. He freezes at how soft yet solid your lips are against his, your scent that wafts around him from your proximity, the warmth of your body beneath his. He’s been privy to quite possibly the world’s most stunning eyes, but as he gazes into yours, so close that it feels like your eyelashes will accidentally entangle, he vaguely thinks that Gojo’s eyes have nothing on yours.

But time isn’t frozen for all and the two of you yelp when wet tongues and furry heads join the two of you, the dogs whining for attention and to be included in what they think is just two human-sized dogs playing with each other. And embarrassed, the two of you gratefully scramble to take life’s easy way out, separating from each other and each grabbing one dog to coddle and distract yourselves with.

However even as adorable as they are, the dogs only partially take your minds off of what just transpired and your face heats as your fingers absentmindedly brush against your lips, remembering the comforting heat pressed against them. Megumi’s not faring much better as he subtly tries to glance at you between pets, ducking his flushed face beneath his collar once again when he accidentally catches you touching your lips, the action making his own lips tingle in pleasant memory.

But it’s more than just the physical, it’s an awakening of sorts. All his life Megumi has been raised with a sense of duty, of responsibility. Romance, love, those are all foreign concepts to him, concepts none of the adults or kids he grew up with, other than Yuta, cared for. And as much as he respects his senpai, he’s not sure if that’s necessarily the kind of love he wants for himself (no disrespect to the Queen of Curses).

He’s not saying this is love, it definitely isn’t...yet. It’s curiosity, attraction, interest at most. But he’s surprised by how much he craves it. He’s grown up associating love with pain, death, and loss. No one told him it could also be so freeing. No one told him how normal it would feel. No one told him that it would be the sprinkle of water and ray of sunlight he needed to help grow the cold bud that lay dormant in him after the loss of his father and Tsumiki.

For once he feels hope, feels like this might truly be a new beginning and as the little plant in his heart finally blossoms, he takes the initiative he’s avoided for so long, letting himself be greedy, letting himself believe that maybe, just maybe, there’s something more for him than exorcising curse after curse.

He asks you about your life, your family, your friends, your interests and then he does what he’s always done best. He listens, finding peace in the cadence and pitch of your voice, feeling his heart flutter as you grow more and more comfortable, becoming more animated as you tell him about your favorite foods, the school subject you struggle with the most, the plans you have coming up for your friend’s birthday. And in return he tells you about the father figure/older brother in his life who has a sweet tooth, the cheerful idiot who lives next to him, and the loud-mouthed female classmate who recently joined Jujutsu High.

But before he can continue on, trying to figure out what to leave out for now and how to sugar coat the rest, his eyes widen in surprise at how dark it’s gotten, how low the sun is in the sky. Quickly catching on to what’s caught his attention when you see him cut off mid-sentence and check the time on his phone, you sheepishly laugh, a hint of disappointment in the sound as you lament on having to part ways with the boy you’ve just met yet who’s somehow nestled a way into your heart.

“I guess I should be going. It’s getting late.”

“I’ll walk you to the train station.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as his tall lean form stands up with yours, a furry dog on either side of you as the four of you make your way out of the forest and down paved sidewalks. The two of you bask in these last moments together, something distressing twisting at your insides when you see the station up ahead, the feeling of finality settling heavily on your shoulders.

There’s already the bitter taste of farewell on Megumi’s tongue as the two of you stand in front of the station entrance, a taste he’s far too familiar with. But before he can utter a word, he’s startled by a bright screen being shoved in his face, eyes blinking in surprise as he stares at the empty contact form in front of him.

“You know...Umm...In case I want to trespass on private property again or if you want to go to that cat cafe I talked about earlier…”

Before you can make a fool of yourself any longer, long slender fingers are plucking the phone from your hands, and relief flows through you as you watch Megumi type his name and number in. There’s an extra bounce in your step when you gleefully take your phone back and he playfully rolls his eyes at the way you mischievously stick your tongue out at him when he lightly warns you not to just waltz onto Jujutsu High property without him as a guide.

And as you board the train, both of you exchanging farewells and even the dogs wagging their tails in their own silent form of goodbye, Megumi smiles down at the new text that appears on his screen, swiftly saving your contact before making his way back to the school.

Maybe he’d have to reconsider his aversion to exploring Tokyo.

#jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Sealing the Deal part 2

Summary: Dick has a perfectly reasonable idea.

a/n: There will probably be more parts to this since you people gave me so many ideas but for now here is some soft smut. Did I finish this just in time for the end of mermay? Yes.

warning: Attempt at soft smut

Main Masterlist

Part 1

"Let's get married."

It takes around a minute for you to even register the fact that Dick had even said anything at all and another to parse out the meaning behind his words. You look up from the piece you've been slaving over for hours while Dick dozed on your lap.

"Let's get married." He repeats earnestly.

You narrow your eyes at him. You... clearly missed at least 2 diatribes and 40% of this conversation. "Uh Dickie, my love, did I miss the part where you divorced me or did I sleep through it like I did when Wally was preaching about raw fish?" You set your tools down and pull his pelt more tightly around you, feeling oddly protective of it.

Seeing you wrapped up in his pelt never failed to make Dick's chest flutter; unfortunately, he had to focus on the matter at hand. "As I was saying, we're married but not in the human way. "

"Ah- Yeah, I see that but.. that seems entirely unnecessary."

"There's no harm in it." Dick says, looking at you with big hopeful eyes. No matter whether it’s his liquid seal eyes or his bright baby blues, you’re still a sucker.

He is definitely up to something. Dick always uses that look when he really wants something and you can already feel yourself falling for it. Who thought giving this man the cutest face in the world was a good idea? Who?! You sigh. Spousal homicide is a bad idea, you tell yourself.

"You're so lucky you're terribly cute," you huff, "you're also lucky that there's a ferry coming tomorrow."

You mentally calculate how much time the whole trip would take but you know all that arithmetic is useless when you hazard a look at your husband. Dick beams, dimples appear at the corners of his mouth, and makes the happiest little noises.

You lean over the railing, watching the sea and feeling the wind comb through your hair. A pair of arms wraps around you making you squeak.

Dick buries his face in your hair and he sweeps you into his arms. "How's the most beautiful creature in the world?"

"Dunno Dick, how are you?" You smile.

Dick sniffles. "You're not allowed to be this cute."

"Hypocrite." You laugh wrapping your arms around him.

He nudges his face against yours.

"Are you liking your first boat ride?"

"I could still swim faster." Dick hums.

You roll your eyes. "Sadly for us, I can't."

"It's ok," he says, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear," it just means you can't escape me on this boat."

"Pfffft!"

"You're saying that now but look who I have in my hold." He chuckles, lips brushing against your neck.

"We're in public you dork!" You squeal.

"And?"

You sigh."You just like embarrassing me."

"Yup. Just ask Jaso- What's that?!" Dick says pointing to a statue on the shore. It was tall and proud with hair cascading down like a waterfall with a visage as hard as the rock it's carved on. You narrow your eyes trying to recall what the local told your father when you were younger.

"Oh, it's... It's a sea goddess I believe or maybe a selkie." You shrug at Dick who looks at it in awe. You supposed this is the first time he's seen a statue that big.

"I thought you said the people on the mainland didn't believe in selkies?"

"Er... ok, so there are mainlanders who are more inland where I come from and there's people near the sea. No, there are more divisions than that but- Ok, so the place where I came from the sea wasn't as important but here it is so they probably have more folk tales."

"I guess that makes sense," Dick says burying his face in your hair. "Did you have any folk tales?"

"Some but it was mostly cautionary about maidens being stolen away."

"Guess you didn't listen to them, huh?" he says, "did they say anything about stealing hearts?" Dick winks one of those winks that only he could make cute.

You huff into your scarf. "More about eating them, I think."

"I can do that if you want." He smirks cheekily.

You pat his cheek, trying to be as irritatingly condescending as possible. "You're still not scary."

Dick takes your hand in his and brings it closer to his lips. He pretends to bite at your fingers, his sharp canines dragging along the skin and nipping at the joints. "It’s because I love you so much."

Dick alternates between gawking at perfectly common sights like large cargo ships and flocks of sheep on the cliff and teasing the life out of you for the rest of the ferry ride.

You are the tiniest bit mortified that several passengers have seen your husband drag his teeth over your skin and toss you in the air for the fun of it. Dick was horrible at keeping a low profile. Not that acting reserved would have mattered anyway given how everyone's eyes were always drawn to him.

You can't blame them, his laughter is infectious and his smile was enough to make the gloomy morning look like a bright summer afternoon. You really really don't blame them for gawking but you just wish they wouldn't.

Not even fifteen minutes onshore and you're reminded why you only ever went into town with your father. Being meek by nature, you're often the target for unruly sailors. It never got too bad, not enough for you to call the cops at least. You would be lying if you wish it wasn't such a common occurrence to have some random guy shove his hand down your back pocket and squeezes your ass.

You jump, nearly dropping the little map of shops your father had drawn for you a while ago. A man passes behind you snickering quietly and yeah, knocking his teeth in would be amazing.

"Hey buddy, do you mind apologizing?" Dick asks, his voice dangerously pleasant.

There's a gnawing sense of foreboding forming in your stomach. It squirms in your gut until you grab Dick's sleeve. "Dick," you hiss, "it's not worth it."

You'd looked at the man and sadly, it really wasn't worth getting Dick's face punched in on his first visit to the mainland. You don't think anything worth getting Dick hurt.

The men turn back to your and the dread in your stomach solidifies. Even your dad was never dumb enough to piss off sailors especially ones built like I train would be dented when hitting them.

"I don't see the problem, pretty boy," the man spits like he'd said the word fungus, "The lass doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" He leers at you. It makes your skin crawl. He steps closer, invading your space, and places a hand on your shoulder. "This lassy here and I go waaaay back." He says, sliding his hand down your arm. You have absolutely no doubt that this man is sloshed because you have never seen him before in your life. You are pretty plain, so that makes sense but yeah, this is the first time you've seen his mug.

"A lass like you shouldn't be dressing like that if you know what's good for you."You open your mouth to protest but only manage to tighten your grip on Dick's sleeve.

There's a split second between Dick flickering his eyes to you and the satisfying sound of a fist making contact with a jaw. The man falls to the ground narrowly avoiding smashing his head into the cobblestones.

"Get up and apologize to her." Dick growls, teeth bared. He pushes forward. You're about as stunned as the man on the ground. Dick's poised for a fight and you have no doubt he'll have no problem getting into a row. You need to stop Dick from doing anything stupid. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing your eyes shut. You bury your face into his coat. You want to tell him that it's fine, that you're used to things like this, that you don't want him to get hurt. This whole thing isn't worth him getting hurt. You're not worth him getting hurt. But the only thing you can manage is a weak "It's not worth it."

Dick squeezes your hand. You're trembling and Dick feels awful for scaring you but he doesn't stop glaring at the man. He guesses he's made his point loud and clear. He softens a fraction, maneuvering you to his side and wrapping an arm around you. There's still a snarl caught in the back of his throat but contrary to popular belief, Dick isn't hot-headed enough to ignore you. All he wants to do now is get you to safety.

You squeeze him with your arms, your face still scrunched as if bracing for impact. "Let's go shopping for those rings, yeah?"

Dick sighs with an indulgent smile. "Ok, honey." He kisses the crown of your head. "I love you, I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," you say, snuggling tighter into him. "You know I only want you and--” That wasn’t even the point. You are really bad at this. “--and you really should be more careful. What if you got hurt?"

"Did you miss that killer right hook? He sure didn't."

A small smile shapes your lips. "Moron."

"Still love me though." He says, bringing your knuckle to his lips.

You shake your head. "It's unfortunate really."

"You know the more time I spend here the less I believe the fact that you didn't know what selkies were," Dick says holding up another seal necklace.

You look at him, wince at the bruise blooming on his knuckle but continue. "My dad and I went into town twice a year and they were only ever day trips." You say, setting down a cheap shot glass with a blubbering seal. It wasn't strictly a lie. It was more of a guesstimate. You look away from him and mumble a "I thought they were called Setties."

Dick snorts loudly and you have a heart attack thinking he reverted back to his seal form. "Setties?" He snorts again and you think he's gonna suck in all the dust from the store.

"Yes, Setties." You repeat grumpily, "I was 7. Cut me some slack!"

"When have I ever cut you some slack?"

"Never."

"Mhm, exactly."

"Why do I love you again?"

"Because I'm the cutest person, you know?"

"I dunno, Dickie." You drawl, picking up a couple of little seal stuffed toys. They were cute with their round faces and distended bodies. Their black eyes didn't quite do justice to your favorite trouble maker but they're close enough in huggableness."These little guys could give you a run for your money."

Dick makes an affronted squawk. You hold them to Dick's face for inspection and ask: "Should we buy the black one or the white one?" Truly, a matter of life and death.

Dick scrunches his face in thought. "The black one obviously."

"But the white one looks cute too." You whine.

Dick gives you a grumpy pout. You ignore him. "Why don’t we get both?"

Dick crosses his arms. "Why-"

"Yanno... A pair like us..." You say, pulling them closer to your chest and looking up at him hopefully.

Dick looks at you wearily. "How could I argue against such a solid argument?" Dick says, tousling your already windswept locks.

"What do you think I’d look like as a seal?" You ask absently as you exit the store. You'd managed to drive the price down with a little haggling and a bit of distraction from Dick.

"Beautiful."

You grin at him. "Again buttering me up won't make me buy you more sweets."

"I can think of other things to eat." Dick says, his pink tongue darting over his lips as he looks at you.

You swallow, mouth feeling dry. Dick is horrible to you today.

The old antique shop was dustier than you remembered. Part of you suspects that the particles sprinkled on all the shelves is in fact just the old owner's cremated remains but you don't really wanna find out if it's true.

You comb through the shelves, feeling like a pirate in search of treasure. The expensive rings with their big rind stones were stowed away on a shelf behind the shopkeeper but everyone one knows that if you want the good stuff you have to search for it yourself.

Dick seems to be happy looking through all the strange knickknacks, so you carry on.

You nearly squeal with glee when you find a ring. It was a band of silver carved into the shape of a seal curling in on itself as it slumbers. You smile holding it close to your chest. "Give me your finger."

"That... is a very strange way to put it."

"Just give me your hand." You say holding out your own. Dick, still incredulous, puts his hand in yours. You bite back a smile as you put the ring on his ring finger. Your lips stretch even as you dig your teeth in. It was a good fit. You're embarrassed to say you were bouncing on your heel with excitement.The silver looks lovely against his tanned skin.

Dick inspects it. "And you said subtlety wasn't my element."

"It really isn't," you say, smiling down at his hand. "But I never did say it was mine either." You could easily find another ring if he doesn't like it but you're quietly hoping he does. You try not to watch his face, not read too deeply into his expressions.

"I like it. Let's try to find a matching one."

Much to your amusement, you did find something but it's.... You snort as you put it on.

"It kind of matches." Dick says wearily.

"It's a fish." You laugh.

"Um... it's a pretty silver fish."

"Absolutely ravishing, huh?"

"Exactly like my wife." Dick says, nipping at your ear.

Your ear burns and you cover it hastily.

"Let's just go pay for them." You say, shoving at him lightly.

"So you do like it?" He asks, peaking through your fingers.

"Yes, you dork. Now, stop being cute." You say, shoving him again.

"Never." He chuckles.

"Is this the statue from the harbor?" Dick asks, poking at the little replica on the shopkeep's counter.

"Aye lad, the natives worshiped the sea before we came along. Kooky fellows but they knew a thing or two about the sea. They even talked about the selkie. Those blood-thirsty women folk of the sea. "

Dick scrunches his nose. You press the heel of your palm to your lips holding back a laugh.

"Well, I’ve heard some different of stories." Dick says, leaning into the counter, his eyes shining mischievously.

The old shopkeep leans in, looking around. "Like what?"

Dick leans in a bit more, his voice hushed and conspiratorial. "I hear they try to trap fair maidens into marriage to bear children for them."

Dick winks unabashedly. You flush. "What?!"

"C'mon lad," the shopkeeper snorted like a walrus, "we all know that all selkies are women folk."

"That’s the thing," Dick says, resting his hands on his intertwined fingers. He grins. "I’ve been out at sea a while, my whole family has aaaaand," he drawls in his other voice. The shopkeep looks entranced. "We've heard of different tales."

"Do tell."

"My family have heard tales of male selkies, those who seek women to carry on the selkie way." Dick pushes off the counter, spinning around on his heel theatrically. "We heard of old lore when they used to kidnap unsuspecting women by the sea shore." You vaguely recall this version but it seemed like ages ago. "But now," he says, stepping closer to you. "Now, they are much more persuasive." Dick winks at you and you resist the urge to elbow him.

"I also heard they're quite persistent." You say, leaning against him.

"Quite." Dick says a little too fondly.

"Hnnn, never heard that one." The shopkeep says tilting his head. "Do you have anymore?"

"Oh, I have a ton of seafaring stories if you'd like. I’ve heard stories about the Cthulhu."

"Cthulhu?"

"The great horror of the deep."

"The only horror here is the lack of treasure chests." The shopkeep huffs. You would be inclined to agree if Tim and Damian weren't so good at finding them.

"Oh this is no tall-tale my friend," Dick says, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "we heard that he awakes once every 10 years to roam the deep seas. Why do you think boats go missing with no trace?"

Monsoons, you think.

"Like that submarine last summer!"

Dick nods sagely "Exactly."

You want to slap your palm against your forehead. There is no way he can believe that hokey, right? ... You are literally married to a selkie. Do you really have any room for skepticism? You sigh. You suppose not.

"The sea is a mysterious maiden just like those sires. A tricky bunch, slippery and smart not like mermaids."

"Have you ever heard one?!" The shopkeep nearly folds over the counter.

"Once when I’d been at sea for 4 months, I heard the most beautiful song in my life, kind of like a mirage but it was a misty night at sea."

The shopkeeper gasps.

You blink. This is news to you.

"Luckily, my father pulled me from the towboat before I set off towards it." You try to imagine it and somehow it's funnier than the idea of Dick being bloodthirsty.

Dick regails Bruce's spat with a sea witch and Alfred's horrifying tale with a kraken. Even you were enthralled by all his tales. Having the shopkeep thoroughly wrapped around his finger. He leans in close again. "Sorry, I got so lost. How much were these rings again?"

The man blinks as if resurfacing from a trance. "A sea-loving man like you? You can keep it for five coffers."

You gape at him, eyes blown wide. That’s less than what you pay for bread.

The man turns to you. "Lass, you better keep an eye on him. This one belongs to the sea."

He's... not wrong.

"You really are too kind," Dick says handing the money over.

"Anytime lad. Feel free to come back with more of your stories!" He calls out as you two walk out the door.

“Since when were you a sailor?” You ask, nudging your shoulder against his.

“Since Jay told me stories.” He answers, nudging back.

“So they were all made up?” You ask, shaking his arm.

Dick hums noncommittally.

You frown at him. “C’mon fess up, pup.”

“Not *all* of them. I just spiced up the truth, that’s all.”

“The sirens?”

Dick freezes.

“Wait, are sirens real?” You gape, pounding your hand on his chest.

“Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?!”

Dick walks ahead of you trying to avoid your question. He does the mature thing and plugs his ears with his fingers. You continue to pester him all the way down the street.

The scent from the bakery wafted in the air calling to both of you as you two continue to bicker. Your stomachs cry out in a chorus. You look at your watch. You knew you'd forgotten something.

"I'll get us something to eat," Dick says, clearly staring at the cupcakes. Getting cupcakes wouldn't hurt. It would be better than getting an actual wedding cake.

You shake your head. "I might sit for a bit." You say handing him your purse and wrenching the bags from his grip. He huffs but doesn't complain.

You park yourself on a bench just outside the bakery. Going to town is just as exhausting as you remember it being. You lull your head back, looking to the sky. What are the odds that it's safe to just doze off here on the bench? Probably pretty low.

Dick watches you from a window, snickering. You were so cute when you're nodding off. He should probably ask if they sell coffee too because you look like you're going to need the entire pot.

He lets a woman go in front of him because Alfred taught him manners and not because he was delighted to see you nearly fold into your shopping bags. You startle and yelp then straighten up. Great seas, you're so cute.

"Hey handsome, can I get a name?"

Dick turns to the woman with an amicable smile. "Oh, the name's Dick."

"I'm ..." Dick is barely paying attention when he sees you take out one of the rings you'd bought with a stupidly happy smile on your face as you try it on. You look up at your hand and Dick can't help the twitch of his mouth.

You wave to him, feeling his eyes on you. He waves back with a thousand-watt smile.

There's a hand sprawled on his chest. "I've never seen you here before." The woman purrs. Dick steps back, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm from out of town-"

"That explains it." She says, batting her eyes.

Dick's not too concerned, not when you've just disappeared from his sight. Dick's about to run outside when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist.

"My husband and I are just here for a day trip to run some errands." You huff glaring at the woman.

Dick wraps an arm around you, chuckling at the priceless expression on your face.

"Dickie, did you want to introduce me?" You ask sweetly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Dick says, feeling genuinely bad because he really wasn't paying attention. In his defense, you were distracting him.

"I'm Mia."

"I'm (Y/n)." You say trying not to puff your cheeks. You clearly just want the woman to go away.

Dick wants to pinch you for being so cute. The disgustingly sweet aura you two radiate was enough to make the woman go away. Much to your relief and Dick's amusement. Dick lets himself sink into your embrace.

Dick pinches your cheek as you get the bread from the counter. You swat his hand away with a loaf of slightly stale bread you were gonna rework later. "What?!"

"Nothing, you're just so damn cute, honey." Dick laughs, pinching your cheek again.

"Says the dork who punched someone." You say, pecking him on the lips.

Dick rolls his eyes. "He totally deserved it."

"Sure, sure."

Ok, he did.

Dick pecks your lips. "Let's go find you a bouquet and a minister so you can keep that ring on."

You flush not noticing that you haven't taken the ring off. Dick looks down at you like he's the luckiest man in the world.

“Will it still make you happy?” Dick asks, fidgeting in front of the courthouse.

You raise a brow at him prompting him to elaborate.

“Getting married without a proper ceremony, I mean.”

Ah. You clutch the bouquet of cornflowers to your chest, twining your finger with his. “As long as I have you it’ll be perfect.”

Dick sniffles. “Stop saying things like that.”

“You started~”

Dick presses his forehead against your, letting out a low trill. “I can’t wait to sign on the paper and make you my wife. Officially.”

You nudge your nose against his. “I can’t wait either.”

The minister looks between the two of you suspiciously, probably looking for signs of which one of you suggested eloping. “You may now say your vows.”

Dick takes out a crumpled sheet of paper with yellowing edges. In a cool crisp voice, he begins to speak:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

The wind rises in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. You try to keep yourself together.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hope, always perseveres.”

You cup your hand over your mouth, your father’s words coming to life through Dick’s voice.

“Love never fails.”

Dick reaches out to you, wiping the tears running down your face. You don’t know if Dick knows how much that meant to you but you’re endlessly thankful.

You feel flush. You’re not really sure you could follow that up. God, you really should have prepared more. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to turn tail and run.

Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If one offered for love

all the wealth of one’s house,

it would be utterly scorned.

Dick looks at you, fondness curving his lips. You smile back at him sheepishly.

The minister clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Dick picks you up and spins you around then brings you close to kiss you. You giggle at his theatrics. In the corner of your vision, you could see the minister just looking extremely tired.

“Give me the bouquet.”

You don’t mainly because you have a policy of making people explain things before you do anything and also because you were hoping to throw the bouquet yourself.

Dick tilts his head. “Uh, give me two.” He pauses. “Please?” “Will you promise me this won’t curse anyone?”

“Just because my dad’s girlfriend is a sea witch does not mean I curse people.”

“And you feel absolutely no need to unpack that, huh?”

“Sweetie, pleeeeeease.” He gives you the big eyes and you silently wonder how selkie divorce works.

You hand him two flowers. He pinches off the stems and says: “Hold out your hands.”

“Can I at least know what kind of ungodly ritual my husband is suckering me into?” You huff as he puts one of the cornflowers in your palms.

“It’s more superstition really. My mom used to say that if you tell a flower about your love for someone and let the sea carry it away, then your love will be able to weather storms.”

You want to tell him that based on the stories the sea had nothing to do with the ferocity of his parent’s love but when you look back into the glitter of nostalgia in his eyes you know that there is nothing for it.

You hold the cornflower close, whispering promises to it, an endless litany of devotions that you hope only the sea will hear. Dick beside you does much the same with regular pauses and additions to his. When you’re both finished, you let the flowers fall harmlessly into the water and watch them, despite all odds, drift together in the ocean.

Dick nuzzles you into the floor. You lay flat on his pelt as Dick hovers over you. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. You hum and slide your hands up his back and part your lips to give him access. Dick pulls away, dragging his lips down your face. His teeth graze on the skin of your neck. Feeling ticklish, you giggle. He smiles pressing another wet kiss to your skin before pulling back. You whine already missing the close contact.

"I think we forgot something." Dick says, gently grasping your wrist and kissing it.

You furrow your brow. You play with his hair as you try to think. "Pretty sure we did everything," you mumble. You shiver when you feel Dick's teeth catch on your pulse, his luminescent eyes staring at you intently. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, you're forgetting something."

You groan. It would be easier to think if Dick's lips weren't on your skin. "We've gotten the rings, thrown the rice, and hit Wally in the head with the bouquet..." You bite back a squeak when Dick sucks a hickey onto your wrist.

"Getting warmer, darling."

You flush. You try to control your breathing but your skin feels so hot against his. You and Dick have met with a minister and he's also carried you over the threshold... All that's left is...

You can feel Dick's hand slide up your shirt, his hand warm against your chilly skin. "Consummation." You whisper, swallowing thickly.

Dick's eyes are bright and mischievous in the firelight. "Bingo." He lets go of your wrist and lowers himself to press a hungry kiss on your lips; it was all tongue and teeth as his hips move against yours. He pinches your nipples between his fingers drawing out a gasp from you. Dick takes this chance to deepen the kiss. He groans into the kiss when you tug at his hair.You moan against him, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer. Your movements are clumsy, speaking to your inexperience. Dick is going to take his time with you.

Dick kisses your nose and pulls away. He can’t resist. Dick drags the shirt slowly over his body. He hears your breath hitch and a vain sort of pride fuels Dick’s ego. It was one thing for other people to tell him he was pretty. It was an entirely different thing to have you look at him with so much awe and reverence. That look in your eyes always makes his skin prickle with delight.

You trace the shape of his muscles with your fingers, your mouth parted slightly as you drink in the sight of him. Dick is no less awe-inspiring than the first time you saw him. You marvel over the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. None of the imperfections on his skin ever managed to dull his beauty. Unfairly, they only enhanced it and took your breath away every time you noticed a new detail about him. Your hand drifts down to the V of his abs; the tough makes him tremble as it dips closer to the hem of his pants. Dick takes in a sharp breath before kissing you again. It was partly because he could never get enough of your lips and partially to get your attention.

“Honey, I want to see you too.” He whispers into your lips.

Your body locks up at his words and a heat spreads across your chest, your neck, and up to your ears. Your mouth feels so dry all of a sudden and your feet turn into blocks of ice. What if Dick finds you repulsive? What if he sees you naked and he can’t stand what he sees? Will he leave or will he smile through it all the while gritting his teeth through it? You’re not pretty, not the way Dick is and you certainly can’t measure up to the other Selkies you’ve met. How the flying fuck were you supposed to compte with Babs or Kori? You seriously consider running away and hiding in your room until you feel Dick’s teeth graze against the column of your neck.

“Please.” He breathes and his voice is so thick with want that it’s enough for you to forget the desire to melt into the baseboards even for just a moment. You don’t want him to be disappointed, to know that he’s traded down. You’re scared. You don’t want to be but you’re fucking terrified.

“It’s ok,” he whispers. “I know you’re nervous.” He kisses your forehead. Dick knows he needs to be patient. He’s waited to feel all of you for this long. He’s willing just to wait a bit more if it means you’re comfortable.

You close your eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Dick kisses your eyelid. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh. It’s so supple and hot against his. Instead, he busies himself by helping you out of your bra but his fingers are clumsy with his brain too full of your skin. You giggle as you both fumble for the clasps.

Dick wastes no time peppering your chest with kisses once you’re completely bare. “So pretty.” Dick purrs against your chest. He nuzzles into the valley of your breasts as he feels your breaths even out. Sliding his hands up and down your sides reverently, he makes certain that you know just how beautiful you are with every bite, every kiss, and every touch.

His attention goes to your breasts. You arch your back as Dick begins rolling your nipples between his teeth. He savors all the little gasps and mewls you make. "Dick." You sigh out his name happily. Dick groans, hips gyrating against yours. "Dick." You repeat, tugging at his hair. You rock your hips in time with his.

Your voice is driving him insane. The way his name rolls off your tongue like silk fries his nerves. All he wants to do is make you scream it over and over while he takes care of you and lets you know just how good you feel against him.

"That's it baby, let me make you feel good."Dick says, giving your nipple one last lick before taking care of the other. "I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

The husky quality of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers travel down his back, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin. He trembles against your as you slide your hand down his chest and down his pants. Your fingertips brush against the head of his member. You wrap your hand around his cock, teasing his head with your thumb. Your thumb is wet with his precum as Dick pants softly into your skin. Dick can't help but move against your hand.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, " I can't... I-"

Dick grasps your wrist, pressing a kiss to it before pulling it over your head. You whine. Dick's breaths tickle your ear as he tries to steady them. He kisses your cheek and nibbles on your ear. Dick grabs your other arm and pins it down next to the other, pinning both hands with one hand. You squirm underneath him, trying to break his hold.

"Let me take care of you." He says, trying to level his voice but you're making it so hard.

You drag your leg up his calf. Dick brushes his lips down your neck, sucking a hickey into every available surface of your skin on the way down your hips and murmuring ‘I love you’ as he does.

"Dick, please." You moan.

"Sweetheart," Dick says, biting the soft flesh of your hip.

You wriggle in his grip causing the hand wound around them to tighten. Dick watches you intently as he bites another hickey into the flesh or your hip. You gasp out his name and Dick can feel his cock twitch. He needs more.

“Shhhh, I know, Honey. Shhhhhh.” Dick says, kissing along the hem of your pants before his teeth catch on the fabric. Dick tugs the button free and pulls the zipper down with his teeth. You think your heart stops. Every little thing he does drives you up the wall. He hooks his fingers to the top of your pants and pulls them down slowly. You can feel the fabric drag against your skin as Dick presses I love yous up your leg.

Dick bites lightly at your ankle as he tosses your pants over his shoulder. Dick licks his lips, they’re plush and glossy from the saliva. He’s looking at you with so much love and adoration that you feel yourself melt. You’re suddenly painfully aware of your nakedness. You snap your legs shut shyly, withdrawing your ankle from his hold. You curl in on yourself, muttering an apology.

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. Dick pushes the hair out of your face. He presses his forehead against yours, kissing you softly and running his hands up and down your sides. Your legs slowly open to let his body closer to yours. You just want to feel his skin against yours.

"I love how your body reacts to me, honey." Dick winks.

You wrap your arms around him, your muscles relaxing a fraction. He can feel the ring on your finger dig into the back of his neck. You are his and he is yours. Dick trills at the thought. You laugh, the vibrations from his lips tickling you.

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" Dick asks, nibbling your lip.

"The whole world knows," you snort, "especially after that fiasco at the town square."

"I had to protect my wifey's honor." He says with a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

"Somehow, I feel like knocking his teeth in was a bit much." You say, pulling him into another kiss because... well, your husband is awfully adorable even if he is a disaster.

"Only seems fair," he says, his hand travelling down your body, kissing your clavicle, "he was being rude to my wife." Dick's fingers dip between your soaking folds. You were dripping just for him. Dick would be lying if he said that didn't inflate his ego. With his fingers curled inside you as he drags them in and out, you arch into him. You thread your finger through his hair and pull.

"Dickie, I want you," you whisper, rubbing your knee against his crotch. "I want you so much."

Dick ruts against your leg, breath ragged and desperate. Dick's body is so sensitive to your touch; it's ridiculous.

"I want you too." He manages barely above a whisper.

"Then fuck me, " you look away from his, biting your lip, "please?"

"Honey," he groans. God, why did you have to say it like that? "You're going to make me cum."

"Isn't that the point?" You ask, your nails dragging on his back as you try and fuck yourself on his fingers.

What did Dick do to deserve you?

"It is," he says, taking his hand out of your folds. "But not before I can make you cum first." He licks his fingers in front of you never breaking eye contact as he does.

You cover your face and squeak because damn it Dick you can't just- Who does that?!

Dick hastily shimmies out of his pants, his cock springing free. You hear a pap as his cock slap against the toned muscles of his stomach. You squeak, peaking through your fingers, the slap ringing sinfully in your mind. Dick lets out an amused breath as he hovers over you. Stroking his length, he smears the precum along your inner thigh, whispering how much you turn him on and how he can't get enough of you.

"Sweetheart, I want you to look at me while I fuck you." He grunts and the air in your lungs evaporate. You think you'll follow suit in a few seconds. "Sweetheart, don't make me beg you."He says into your neck.

Dick, you're not helping, you think to yourself but the saccharine way he always says your pet names has you giving into the request. Dick is smiling down at you and your heart melts. He kisses you deeply. You wrap your limbs around him, your heels digging into the small of his back and your fingers tangled in his locks as he slowly enters you.

He moans into your lips and you moan into his. There's a burning stretch inside you that has you begging for more. He bottoms out and your walls flutter around his cock trying to accommodate his girth. A shiver travels up his spine feeling your velvet walls trying to milk his cock. Dick pulls away from the kiss to whisper: "I love you."

"I love you too, hubby. Please move."

"Aye aye, wifey." He says slowly, pulling his length out. You can feel the long drag of his cock against your walls. You mewl for a lack of anything intelligent to say.

The sound is enough to egg him on. He pushes in and out of you in long strokes, enjoying how your body rocks against his chasing your own pleasure. You pepper kisses to his chest and leave your own marks. Dick would be embarrassed by the lewd noises he makes as you do so but he's too caught up in you to really care. He doesn't even care if the whole world can hear him right now, all he cares about is that you're his and that you're loving this as much as he is.

"Baby, you feel so good. Your pussy was made for me. Ah!" Dick says, his hips stuttering when he feels you clench at those words. He kisses your shoulder. He loves the way his name falls from your lips as if it's the only thing you know how to say. "That's it baby. You're so pretty moaning and gasping and begging for my cock."

All Dick can focus on is the sound of your skin slapping against his. You kiss up his neck, nibbling at his Adam's apple as he swallows. "Dickie, I want more."

Dick's mind comes crashing to a halt.

"Dick, please. I want to feel you more. Please, go faster." You say, voice husky with want. It makes Dick feel like his body has turned to gelatin.

He kisses your forehead, a blush spreading across his skin. "Sweetheart, I can't."

"Please Dick." You breathe, pouting at him.

Fuck, you can't look this cute while begging him to fuck you... twice. That's just not fair.

"Sweetheart, if I go any faster, I'm going to cum." The embarrassment is hard to hide.

You drag your nails across his back and lick a stripe up his neck." Dick, I want you to fill me up. Dick, please, I'm so close." You beg, teeth catching on his collarbone, looking at him with watery eyes.

Dick is a sucker and he can never say no to a pretty face. He kisses one of your eyelids before slamming his hips into yours. His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts in and out with wild abandon. He thrusts deeper at an angle that was sure to hit your g spot every time.

You sing his name sweetly as you pull him closer. Your nipples rub against his chest as you bounce on his cock. Your walls constrict around him making it harder to pull out every time. All he wants to do is to stay inside you and revel in your warmth but he wants to bring you over the edge and fuck you stupid. He rolls your clit between his fingers as you whimper into his neck.

You both cum crying each other's name. Dick kisses you as he fucks you through your orgasm, painting your walls with his hot seed.

Dick rests his weight on top of you as he pulls out with some of his seed painting your inner thigh. "I love you." He pants.

"I love you too, you heavy lug." You grouse, trying to push him off of you.

Dick has mercy on you and rolls you two over with you resting on top of him, perfect for cuddling you.

Dick whispers "I love you" and other praises every time he opens his mouth and you return the sentiment by kissing a different part of his face.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Dick flushes seeing just how many hickeys he's left you and he flushes even harder seeing his own chest marked up.

"Sorry about that," He says kissing one of the marks. "I just can't help myself-" Kiss "-You look so pretty covered in love bites-" Kiss "-Sweetheart, you gotta stop sounding cute. I'll get hard again- Fuck."

Your hand wraps around his shaft, fingers brushing against his skin experimentally. "But I want you." You say bluntly.

Dick is going to combust. "I want you to. I've wanted you like this for so long."

You stop. Your thumb brushes against the tip of his already leaking cock. Your lips curl into a smile. "Is that why you were so adamant on getting married?" You snicker, booping his nose with yours.

"No, yes, maybe... partially." He stammers out.

You snort. "You know that wasn't necessary for us to..." The flush creeps back on your lips. You somehow have the audacity to look shy while still stroking his shaft. Dick is going to burst.

"I didn't want you to miss out on it," Dick says steadying his breath, feeling himself get harder as he talks or attempts to, "I wanted you to experience it since you told me you dreamt about it as a kid."

You stop and Dick bucks to urge you to keep going.

"You remembered that?" You ask, the expression on your face is complicated.

Dick sits up, brushing a finger against your cheek. "Of course, I did."

"Dork." You sniffle, kissing his cheek.

"Only for you," He laughs but it's cut off by the movement of your hand. "Sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, biting into his knuckle.

"I'm only thanking you for being so sweet." You tease, spreading your mixed juices all over his cock. "and I just love my hubby that's all."

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Thanks for reading!!!!!!

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#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut

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