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craziest-in-the-guild · 3 years

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Get your Kix

Fives x F!Reader x Kix

Rating: Explicit 18+

C/W: Public sex acts with multiple partners, alcohol use, cursing.

Word count: 1866

A/N: So I had this idea the other day and it just doesn't fit with Rex, so I decided to write a one-shot (I think) with Fives and Kix. This title is trash, sorry.

You worked as a bartender at 79’s and couldn’t count how many clones had asked you out, but you could count the ones you’d said yes to.

You were drying a glass and daydreaming about the handsome men you’d been with. It had been a couple weeks since any of them had been on world and you were starting to feel needy.

Captain Keeli had been the first clone you’d said yes to. He was smooth talking and handsome. You two would often fuck and then cuddle, watching holo vids.

Fives had been after you for a while. You’d finally gone with him one night after he’d given you the sweetest, most pitiful look. He was simultaneously gentle with you, but rough. You loved how he fucked you like a whore, but took care of you after. He had enjoyed you so much that he said he needed to hook you up with his Captain, Rex.

Captain Rex’s men had finally convinced him to sleep with you one night. He wasn’t the kind to seek out comfort, but they all knew he needed it. He was a virgin, which had completely surprised you. He seemed totally embarrassed by the idea of a one night stand. He had enjoyed it, but was gone before morning came. He sent flowers the next day.

Commander Wolfe was the most wild clone you’d been with. That man knew exactly what he wanted and took it. He was good to you, but rough and had a habit of biting. He never commed the next day or while he was away, but any time he was in town, he’d come find you. You’d have to wear something with a high neckline the next day to hide the bite marks. You smirked at the thought.

A voice brought you out of your daydream.

“Hey sweetheart, can I get a round of shots for me and my vod?” It was Kix, a medic with the 501st.

“Oh, sorry I zoned out for a minute. Those will be right up for you.”

You were excited to see the 501st in town.

You’d been eyeing Kix for awhile, hoping he’d make the first move. Fives had told you that Kix had had his eyes on you, too.

Fives suddenly appeared beside Kix as if he’d heard you thinking about him. He was already drunk. You hoped he wouldn’t need yet another trip to med bay.

“Mesh’la!” He grinned from ear to ear, leaning across the bar to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“How are you tonight?” You asked.

“Perfect, now that I’ve seen you!”

“Oh stop it,” you said, feigning embarrassment.

“Please don’t end up in med bay tonight, Fives. I want to enjoy my night,” Kix jeered.

“He’s trying to get with that cute medic, that’s why he keeps ending up in med bay,” you gave Fives an accusatory look.

“I know, and she keeps turning you down!” Kix said.

Fives grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed half the shots and headed back to their corner booth.

You shook your head, smiling.

“Would you like to come have a drink with us?” Kix asked.

“I would love to,” you answered. Your shift was just about finished and you saw this as the perfect opportunity to get close to Kix.

You took off your apron and came around the bar, following Kix back to the booth.

Everyone greeted you and you slid into the booth between Fives and Kix.

You threw back four shots, one right after another and the men cheered. Honestly, it was nothing for you, but it impressed them.

Fives’ ungloved hand slipped under the table and onto your right thigh. His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and slid under it.

Meanwhile, Kix was telling you about some of the ridiculous injuries he’d seen and how the men had obtained them. The men seemed to always be up to some shenanigans.

You were focused, until Fives’s finger made its way to your clit. You hadn’t worn underwear and he was taking advantage of that.

You inhaled sharply as he rubbed your clit in tight, slow circles. After a few minutes, the finger dipped down to your wet slit.

You were thankful Kix had turned his attention to Jesse and Hardcase for the moment.

“What ARE you doing?” you hissed as you leaned close to Fives, hoping no one else could hear.

“Making sure you’re ready for Kix. And if things don’t go off between you two, maybe you’ll be ready for me,” he said, a sly smile on his face.

With that, the finger pushed into your slit, quickly finding your g spot. It was all you could do to not wiggle or whimper. He teased you just long enough to leave you frustrated.

“You’re just going to have to let him know you’re interested,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger.

The others had left to get more drinks, leaving you with just Fives and Kix. Fives excused himself to the ‘fresher.

You placed your hand on Kix’s thigh. His eyes met yours and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. Blushing wasn’t something you did much of anymore, especially when a man was just looking at you.

He leaned forward, soft lips connecting with yours. It was over quicker than you liked.

“Want to dance?” Kix asked.

“Of course,” you replied, breathless.

——————-

The dance floor was crowded with clones and their companions. You’d seen a lot on this dance floor, including people fucking. No one cared.

You were grinding your ass against his codpiece, mentally cursing that piece of plastoid for being in the way.

He pulled you close, running his hands up your sides and bringing your arms up and around his head.

His lips brushed past your ear, lighting a fire in your core. You tilted your head slightly and he kissed your neck. The fire grew hotter and you could feel the slickness on your thighs.

Kix’s hands came back down, one resting on your breast and the other on your waist. He squeezed your breast and rolled the nipple between his fingers. You hadn’t worn a bra.

He brought his other hand up and teased your other nipple. You arched back, urging him to not stop. His teeth dragged across your neck.

“Want to get out of here, mesh’la?” He whispered.

You turned, leading him outside to the alley. It wasn’t uncommon to see couples in the alley, but tonight you were alone.

Kix pinned you against the wall, kissing you fervently. He nipped your lip and you nipped back. Stars, he tasted so sweet.

You felt the shoulder ties of your dress come undone. He stepped back and pulled the front of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the night air. Kix stood there, admiring you.

“You don’t mind being exposed where others could see?” he asked.

“I’ve never done this, but I like the risk.”

You wondered if he could see how excited and nervous you were.

“Good,” he said and leaned down, taking your nipple in his mouth.

Your cunt was aching with need.

“Please,” you whined.

“Please what?” He stood, locking eyes with you.

“Hmm?” He pressed you for an answer.

You looked away as a group of clones passed the entry to the alley, but none had seen you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Focus on me, not on them,” he placed his thumb and forefinger under your chin and turned your head back to face him.

“I, I want you in me,” you smiled.

He reached down, removed his codpiece, pulled his hard cock from his blacks, and slid on a condom. He lifted your right leg and pushed his cock into your throbbing cunt.

“Mmmm,” you whimpered.

“Too much?” Kix asked.

“No, it’s just, maker, my cunt’s been aching all night and you feel so fucking good.”

He thrusted further into you, eliciting a gasp.

Your soft breasts pressed against his plastoid covered chest as he thrusted slowly.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled as he kissed you.

“Hey! There you guys are!”

Your head snapped to the right, and you saw Fives walking down the alley.

Kix didn’t stop.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I’ll be going,” he stopped when he realized what was going on.

“Do you…do you want to stay?” you asked.

“Vod?” Fives asked.

Kix nodded his head, never looking away from you or changing his pace.

He had been so quiet early in the evening, but so bold now. You were pleased.

Kix pulled you away from the wall, staying inside you.

Fives stepped behind you and Kix leaned you against Fives.

Fives took your hair in his hand and pulled your head back to look up at him.

“When I was fingering that wet little pussy earlier, I didn’t know we would be in this position,” he said.

He kissed you hard as his free hand massaged your breast and tugged your nipple. You’d never had two men at once and it was exhilarating.

Kix’s pace had quickened and you were about to cum.

“You ask him, cyare,” Fives said. You’d been with him enough that he could see your tells.

“May I cum, p-please,” you squeaked out.

“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl, mesh’la,” Kix said.

“Cum hard on his dick, just like you do for me cyare,” Fives pulled your head back farther, exposing your neck and kissing it, nipping here and there. His hand slid down to your clit and the pleasure was overwhelming.

You closed your eyes as the fire that had been burning in your core turned into an explosion. Your cunt squeezed tight around his cock as you came.

“Fuck, so…fucking tight,” Kix moaned through gritted teeth.

Kix picked up your other leg and Fives helped support you. He had shifted his arms to be under yours, supporting you, his hands on your breasts, pinching your nipples.

Kix thrust hard and fast, your cunt making a satisfying squelching sound with every stroke. He pulled your hips harder towards him, digging his fingertips into your soft flesh.

Fives rolled and pinched your nipples harder.

You held your breath and a delightful tingling consumed you.

You let out a scream, but Fives was prepared and placed his hand over your mouth to muffle it.

Kix was struggling to thrust against your tight walls and finally exploded inside you.

Fives removed his hand from your mouth and brushed the sweaty hair back from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Kix pulled out of you and Fives had to support you to keep your weak legs from collapsing.

Kix pulled the front of your dress up and tied the straps. He then redressed himself.

“Maker, cyare, that was amazing,” he finally said, wiping his own sweaty brow.

You were able to stand now, although your legs were still trembling. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“I want more, from both of you,” you said.

“I think we can do that, mesh’la,” Fives grinned.

“Let’s get you home,” Kix said.

You locked arms with them and headed towards your apartment.

#arc trooper fives #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #clone trooper fives #the clone wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars smut #fives x you #fives x reader #kix x reader #kix x you

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thisisthehardestthing · 4 years

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Purple Pill - Shinso x fem!reader

18+, WAREHOUSE UNDERGOUND RAVE AU, DRUG USE

[edit:i am actually crying. thank you, Zo, @joyousandverywarlike, for making me this amazing banner. it’s so beautiful and it’s exactly what I imagined his eyes to be like]

I should make a banner for this but I’m lazy and honestly, 420 subscribers snuck up faster than I expected (cough thanks @lady-bakuhoe and @animewh0re)

WARNINGS: Hard drug use, unprotected sex, orgasm denial

Authors note: idk how many of you are in the underground techno scene like I am, but please, be safe. It’s easy to get sucked into this lifestyle. If you know anyone that has lost their way, or you feel like you are yourself, reach out to someone. As always, inspired by Myst Paris . They’ve always made me feel safe during these experiences. Here’s a spotify playlist if you want to listen while reading.

PURPLE PILL

You don’t like the colour purple. In fact, you absolutely despise it. You actively avoid it, yet you’re always surrounded by it. You like red. You enjoy blue. But not together. You can’t escape it, especially tonight, with him around. So you try to forget, push everything out of your mind and focus on the present, it’s why you’re here, after all. You want to be numb, feel nothing and everything at once, so devoid of thought that your body can’t help but be overstimulated.

There’s no denying it, the way you feel the bass thumping through you, controlling the speed at which your heart beats. It’s fast, throttling your muscles as your feet step, hips sway. Your hands move up your thighs, pinching the hem of your skirt, always a skirt, pulling it up until it slips from your grasp. You trail your hands along your waist, tugging at your skin before you cross them, finding a place on either end of your clavicles, chest expanding and contracting as you writhe for the beat conductor. Your head swings side to side, predatory, searching, snakelike, before your fingers crawl up your neck and past your ears, in the air, flying. It’s so fucking good, and with your chin up, eyes closed, there’s no purple.

There’s a siren in the music, trickling in, winding up a build as you stare at the ceiling. It’s brutalistic, chipping cement, a few skylights missing glass, hinting at the late night and early morning. It’s a waning moon, no longer full but emptying out into something new, transformative. You moan, pure ecstasy drifting with the music to join the cacophony of smouldering bodies surrounding you. It’s sweaty and delicious. You feel an empty cup crush beneath your boot, and you realize you’re still on the ground, not weightless. So you pretend, hands reaching sideways and down, brushing against moist shoulders briefly. They swipe yours in return, acknowledgement of souls trying to soar, before you’re alone, hugging yourself with only the sound as a blanket. The beat drops and you’re back to stomping, feral movements.

You’re so lost that you don’t see it. Lavender flames part the sea of bodies stomping to the beat, as though burning them, changing to mist. A wildfire is heading straight for you. Damn purple.

“Funny seeing you here,” his voice is deeper than the bass of the music, vibrating through your skin and into your bones, boiling your marrow. It peels your eyes open, dragging you back to earth. The lights strobe, flashing into your dilated pupils. You’re electric, buzzed. He’s blocking the view of the DJ, of the crowd, your lifeline. Everything is in focus and moving.

“Your hair is alive, Shinso,” you mumble, staring at the mess of purple on his head. “It’s making me sick.” He chuckles as you grab a fistful, dragging him to slouch. It’s soft, how disgusting, so you’re rough.

“Oh, kitten, what low-grade shit have you already taken?” he asks, eyes lilac, pupils narrow, sober. Unfortunate but expected; he doesn’t use when he deals.

You shrug. It was half a pill hours ago, remnants from last week's reverie found in your earplug holder. It’s four in the morning, but the night has just started. The bass flips, a new beat lifting the melody and you bounce, still fisting his hair. He grimaces, prying your grip from his locks to hold your palm, unburnt even though you’d just touched fire. His fingers massage and knead the flesh as you sway. The lights flash. Red, blue, red, blue, fucking purple, so your eyes shut, pulling his lithe body against yours, fingers dancing under his shirt and up his spine. He chuckles.

He smells like lavender and spice, and you wince, face contorting in pain at how it stabs your lungs, cutting through the fog of your fading high, unwanted purple. Still, you press him closer, needing touch, forehead rolling between the dip of his pectorals, before your lips rest on his shoulders, almost biting, looking past and pining for the DJ. He’s a deity controlling the bodies of everyone in the warehouse, yet you feel cut off, held captive by the man wrapped around you, a prisoner, safeguarded. You feel Shinso sigh, his breath cool against your sweating neck. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you deeper into his field of flowers, you inhale poison.

“Want something a bit stronger, kitty?” he’s husky, like leaves rustling in autumn, auburn against a periwinkle sky. He knows you’re not where you want to be. He’ll help you get there.

“Mmmm,” you hum in response, the hands on his back pawing and pressing the fabric of his shirt. It’s a soft cotton, or perhaps hemp. It’s nice, white, a canvas to paint on. Your fingers trace over the hills and valleys of his muscles, hips grinding against his, digging your nails into his skin. You don’t see it, but you feel the blood, red, wondering if you can create some blue, digging harder. Then the beat drops and you begin to stomp, feeling a fresh sense of clarity, focus, drive with the music. Shinso hisses.

“Careful with the claws,” he muses, the hands on your hips releasing to unzip the body-bag sandwiched between your bodies. You press your palms flat, feeling his heart beat in his back, syncing with yours but not with the bass.

He moves stealthily, slowly, hand snaking against your bare chest and over your bralet, a tease. His knuckles brush your nipples as he pulls the zip down. You pull your head off his shoulder to stare into those dark eyes, they’re bored and calculating. You’d shiver if it wasn’t for how warm it is, heat trapped under his gaze, sweat glistening on your skin, dripping down his neck.

His sweat. It’s reflecting the lights, cyan and scarlet swirling together so quickly they morph into violet. You press the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth, running it up and down, you’re antsy, coming down. His body is ice cold beneath your touch, burning holes into your fingertips. He smiles lazily, his hand withdrawing completely and suddenly, there’s too much space between your bodies.

“You got water?” He asks, serious, no hint of a smirk. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, lifting a hand to your lips, a bottle already open and waiting and you open your mouth for him to pour it in. “Don’t swallow.” He says it almost too late so you push the liquid into your cheeks, right leg bouncing in an effort to stay still, the music calling you. You need to dance. There’s distortion and a steady beat as you stare at a rolling back to your left, mesmerised and longing to feel the silky skin, brown, not mauve.

Your gaze rips to the man in front of you when he crouches, ducking below eye level of the singular, mandatory bouncer, not that they would stop him. He’s got a syringe and small glass vial in his hands, and without looking at you, he pulls out a carefully measured amount, just a few milliliters, if that. He knows your tolerance so well. You remember the last time he gave you GHB, the euphoric mania that blossomed, and you grin with sealed lips. At least it’s not a purple pill. He crooks a finger and you bend forward, a moth to his lilac flames, letting all the water pool forward to avoid burning your mouth.

“Careful, kitten, remember what I told you?” he asks, steady hands waiting for your nod before he expels the acrid drug between your lips and you swallow quickly, making sure it’s the water that carries it, diluting it. In seconds, he’s packed it all away and passes you the water bottle. You chug it, extremely thirsty, suddenly on edge at expecting something to hit you at any moment.

There’s a howl to your right, a whine to your left, and you let out a moan as the music suddenly picks up double time. Your hands fly to the back of your neck, forearms pressed snugly to your ears, falling into the beat until sensations pull you back out. Shinso won’t let you go that easily, and you don’t want to leave him. He’s still kneeling, as though in prayer to your body and motion. It’s empowering to see him beneath you, amongst the dirt. He’s untouchable and yet here he is. His palms drag up the length of your calves as he places kisses along your thighs, fingers inching higher until they’re under your skirt, kneading the flesh of your ass, a thick index trailing along the crease of your underwear. You roll your hips, feeling his finger slide between your folds. Your teeth chatter, remnants of the previous pill, and you shudder against his hands. One of your hands finds refuge in his hair once more.

“Shinso, not now,” you whine, tugging him up. He stands, large palms splaying against your lower back again, arching it as you step together, rhythm flowing through your bodies. This time, he smells like smoke and geranium, a burning flower. His hips are pressed against yours, cock obviously hard, waiting, expectant. His lips come to your ear and he gives you a kiss before tasting the sweat near your hairline. It’s a threat, you’re inside him now, swallowed by purple.

“Hmm, did you just tell me to wait? After I gave you what you needed.” He’s tutting, his tone condescending, sending shockwaves through your ear canal, flipping a switch in your brain. You need to be alert, you’ve made the mistake before, tread carefully. You inhale, breathing in his fire, almost choking on ash.

“Dance with me,” you say, stretching more of your neck for him to reach, his lips soft and soothing. He’s sucking down on the skin, pulling red marks to the surface that will turn to blue then eggplant.

No, you pull away, head jerking out of his reach but he quickly resumes, fingers tangling behind your head to bring your face close to his. He doesn’t kiss you, not yet. He merely surveys your emotions with half-lidded eyes, calculating how long it’ll be before you’re floating away. You can’t stop bouncing, heightening the friction between your bodies. He’s starting to sweat now, you can see it beading in his hairline. You realise he must’ve been behind the DJ booth, where there’s restricted access, privacy. Something taps your lips and you open your mouth, compliant, thankful for something to suck on apart from your tongue.

“Kitten, you don’t tell me what to do,” his whisper makes you shudder. He’s planning something, lilac eyes becoming amethyst, bewitching. His fingers are bitter, sharp, like the green stalk of a flower, and you’re addicted. You curl your tongue up, swirling it around, feeling the bumps of your muscle curl against the miniscule grooves of his fingerprints. He pushes them in deeper, roughly, and if you were tighter, wound up, sober, you might’ve gagged. Instead, you feel the saliva begin to pool around your teeth, coating his knuckles and dribbling down your chin as he fucks your mouth with his hand. There’s no telling how long you’re sucking on them, time nonexistent, but the music slows, crashing periodically, like helicopter blades coming to a halt.

Then there’s quiet.

You hear the squelch in your mouth, the popping of spit. The pressure spreads from your throat down, and ice begins to frost in your gut, travelling up. Something is creeping. The contorting bodies begin to holler, whoop, moans of pain mixing with cries of pleasure as the next deity set’s up. You let your head fall back, his fingers slipping down your chin to grasp your throat, spit cold against moist flesh. He’s growling, you realise, the rumbles from his chest trembling in his fingertips. Has he been waiting for you all night?

It feels like an explosion behind your eyes, going off in your mind, sparking everywhere, and suddenly, you’re weightless once more. If it wasn’t for Shinso’s hand wrapped around you, who knows where you’d have floated to? The lights strobe again, faster, more urgent, the bass kicks off in a hurry, there’s a scream underneath the music, chilling your bones. Hardcore. You find yourself massaging his forearms, biceps, shoulders, fingers toying underneath the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re too clothed,” the statement leaves your lips, finding yourself dizzy with energy, talkative. He’s in hyperfocus, the flames of his hair sparking off purple, rising to join the stars above. You can see the glint in his normally dull eyes now, brought about by the onslaught of your new high. He grins, lips pulling like a cheshire cat, twisting his face, and you drag his neck down to meet your lips. There’s another shriek in the beat and you pull back, breathless. “I don’t like it, not this, let’s go get some air?” Words tumble around you as they pour from your mind incoherently, against his smiling lips. His nods, forehead rubbing yours.

“Of course, kitten. Follow me,” and your hand is wrapped with his as he tugs you sideways, the bodies weaving around his straight path to the side of the warehouse. He tugs you to the front when you turn to the back, thinking of catching your breath in the outdoor area reserved for those that might be getting overwhelmed, tripping badly or need a release. That’s not his plan. Another scream and you grip his wrist with a vice, feeling the bass throttle your bones as you walk closer to the music, violent, bruising. He pushes past the metal railing, and you cross the barrier from purgatory into hell, so close to the speakers you can feel yourself become the music, imagine the screams, until you can’t.

The door is shut, cutting off the cries and beat, only the thrum can be heard in the room, a never ending thump rattling your bones. You can’t stop moving, the music calling you to return now that you can no longer hear it. You’re bouncing as you walk, almost skipping when Shinso sits and pulls you on top of him in a straddle. His hands find the plush of your ass, kneading it between those sinful fingers. The room is dark, the shapes blending into each other, the lightbulb colouring the room as a monotone; violet, UV. You prefer red. You moan as his lips find yours once more, with no worry of interruption, and you grind your hips down on his cock beneath the rough fabric of his pants. He unclips his bag from his chest, not breaking the kiss, before unclasping the back of your bra, tugging the flimsy material down your arms and to the floor. You’re hungry for him, starving, and for the first time that night, you want to devour plum.

“Take this off,” fingers tug at his shirt, mumbling against his lips as you stare into his eyes, falling into the deep well, almost past the point of no return, your high slamming the back of your mind, desperate. Let it in, a voice whispers and you shiver when Shinso raises his eyebrows, following your command.

“Hm, I thought you told me to wait, kitten,” he muses, dropping his shirt on top of your discarded bra, his fingers going back to your ass before running over the bend of your hips, digging them into the fold. Your hips are making the smallest circles, rolling against his erection, feeling how he twitches beneath your folds and his zipper.

“Nuh-uh, fuck me.”

His chest is pressed against yours, nipples rubbing together, teasing, the friction almost too much to bear. Fuck, you need more. You pull him in close, fingers tangling in his hair, burning your palm but you don’t care, crashing your mouth against his to feel whole. It’s not enough.

Let me in.

The metal button is undone and you lift slightly to unzip, tugging at the fabric as he accommodates your movements, helping just enough so that his cock springs free. Your heart is in your throat, choking you with want, desire. He pulls the bottom of your thong to the side, grazing against your slick, groaning at how wet you are. You mewl, his nickname for you taking shape. Your hands rest on his shoulders, steadying your vibrating bones, the pounding in your mind almost peaking. Shinso places a steady hand on your hip, under your skirt, the other finger teasing your folds open, keeping your underwear to the side.

“Say please,” his voice is cool, detached, regarding your flushed face and wild eyes with a boredom in his own. It makes you breathless.

“Please, Shinso.”

He brings his face close to yours, lips spread ear to ear like the ones between your legs as you feel the silk of his cock tap your entrance. The blacklight distorts his features, turning them rabid, unholy, dangerous, magenta. You begin to lower, but he keeps pressure in his hands, slowing your descent painfully, torturously. You can feel your chest heave, toe curling in your boots, pussy throbbing at the stretch. You mumble a mmmmpf, from behind closed lips, pushing yourself down.

“Patience, kitten, you’ve been teasing me for a while now,” Shinso smirks, lopsided and disgustingly seductive, twitching his cock as he lets you fall another inch. You’re stir-crazy. Your fingers tap against the ultraviolet skin of his shoulders, toes furl and unfurling, lip caught between nibbling teeth and eyes rolling up, all in an attempt to stay still.

Let me in.

He let’s go and you drop. You land with a thud, feeling stretched out beyond belief, the high no longer slamming against the door but rather kicking it down. Each bang makes you tilt forward, rising your hips up slightly before forcing his tip to hit your cervix once more as you lower. You’re slow, riding him timidly, as you revel in feeling so full, heart leaping out of your throat and floating above your head. Then faster, as you feel the bass of the music vibrate through his skin, the wall behind his head shaking, and your very cells begin to rattle along with it.

“Fuck, yes, Shinso,” you’re moaning, feeling talkative as the GHB creeps into your veins, mumbling words of praise at the man beneath you. He regards you coolly, biding his time, waiting until the high takes over completely.

“Please, fuck me, Shinso, please, god, please move.” You’re begging him now. Why won’t he thrust up? You focus on his eyes, the way they drink in your bounce on his cock. Shinso ‘tsk’s’, and his hands still your movements, keeping you seated, grounded, whining. Your mouth doesn’t stop trembling, lower lip swollen from all the biting. Your ankles shake from the need to walk out, back to the souls ascending to heaven, leaving their bodies behind, leaving you at his mercy.

“Mm, kitten, you’re awfully chatty for someone that just wants to be fucked,” Shinso purrs at you, keeping one hand firmly on your hips, bruising you, marking you, hurting you blissfully. You gyrate, feeling how he swirls within you, poking the sides of your walls, so damn full. You open your mouth to respond, but you’re silenced, gagged and restrained. His fingers invade, and you suck, replacing the gnawing of your cheeks to focus on the intruder between your lips.

“There you go, that should shut you up, pretend it’s my cock,” his fingers are impossibly long, moving slower than before, when they were plunging. It’s a relief, having something to suck on, relieving pressure in your neck and ears and jaw and hair and oh, you moan. The hand on your hip slide to your ass.

Smack!

Let me in.

It’s him. Amythest and Byzantium, lavender and lilac, fucking purple. He wants to be inside you, controlling you. You’re so empty, chest hollow with cheeks and cunt stuffed, so you suck, gyrate, pulse, all together, all at once. Impatient as ever, you feel the tip of his cock graze your most tender spot. With the hand that is not dominating your mouth, he holds your hips down with a vice. You crave him enough to defy him, ecstasy rolling through your core with his roll of your pelvis. You can’t see him, eyes staring into your mind in euphoria, at a galaxy, but he’s there, standing behind the entrance and exit, waiting.

“Do you want me that badly?" he asks. Shit, he's cornered you. He won't give you what you want unless you answer him, but the moment you do, you will be under his control. He'll only make you wait longer for the release you so desperately need. The alarm bells are ringing, don’t fall for the trap. His questions are dangerous.

You nod your head, shocked at how you can contain your words when you're so vocal, high off your mind, incoherent thoughts refraining from babbling out. Shinso smirks, releasing your hips, letting you fuck yourself on his cock, whining and moaning and writhing, hands gripping his hair, the cushions of the couch behind him, running through your own locks before looking at the ceiling and humming, tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes. You gag on his fingers as they slip in deeper. It's too much, feeling so full, so empty, needing more, so much more.

Shinso's hand releases you, tongue lolling out of your now empty mouth, searching for warmth. There’s bruises on your hip bones, the pressure like a ghost over your skin, still apparent. You whine, biting your tongue before sucking it to stay quiet, swallowing your words as you press up against his chest. You're sweating, and thirsty, for water, his sweat, his mouth, fingers, cum, anything. The sheen of your bodies reflect violet in the blacklight, and he’s glowing. You’re a moth to his purple flame.

"If you want me to touch you, all you've got to do is ask." He whispers against your ear, breath teasing your skin, teeth blinding, eyes dark.

Let him in.

“Yes,” your consent is apparent, simple, all consuming, and Shinso grins, stands, flips you like a rag doll. Your body is his to use how he wishes. You’re floating, completely euphoric, manic, body tensing and relaxing. You need more. You’re watching your body get fucked from above, soul vibrating on a higher plane of existence. He feels good, so, so good.

Drool drips down your chin, smearing against the backrest of the couch. The weave of the fabric leaves more marks against your cheek, red indents turning to magenta, sangria, wine, perfect companions to the bruises on your hips. Your body is filled with mist, clouds, swirling around as Shinso thrusts into you from behind. They leave your mouth in gusts as you moan, loudly, taking over the muffled thrum from the bass. His large palm splays against your lower back, pressing down as he angles his hips up, wrecking you.

“That’s right, kitten,” his voice is thunder, rumbling in the room, against your skin, pricking up goosebumps. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.”

His fingers are lightning, burning like ice as they reach around for your clit, slick with sweat, adding a delicious friction as he circles the nerves. More fog slips from between your lips as you whine, moan, mewl, plead. The fabric of the sofa cushions bite into your knees, you feel how the static creeps down your calf and into your toes, each ricochet of Shinso’s hips sending an oscillating wave of pins and needles down your leg. Your fingers grip what they can, coming to rest beneath you to try and peel your face from the backrest like velcro.

You can see yourself convulsing around his cock, walls clenching rhythmically, winding you tighter and tighter. He’s thrusting deeper, harder. You’re going to cum, the release lying in his next thrust, and then it’s gone. Shinso pulls out, fingers flying from your clit to pinch the skin of your ass as his length comes to rest in the middle, his balls bobbing against the folds of your sex. You’re crashing, a wave collapsing in on itself as your orgasm is ruined by his touch, or lack of. Tears stream out of your eyes, shoulders shaking as you sob at his denial.

“Shinso, please, don’t stop, why’d you stop?” His cock slides against the crease of your ass, you can feel the warmth fading, cooling against your skin. You roll your hips to try and trap his length between your folds again, but he turns, slapping your throbbing pussy with four fingers, making you cry out.

“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, making you turn your head, peering over your shoulder at his sadistic smirk, fisting his cock just out of reach of your sopping cunt. You whine at the image; he’s bathed in glorious, royal purple. You’re frozen, unable to move and grab him. Your soul sucks back into your body, trapped under his gaze, nails digging into the sponge beneath. He spanks you, muscle trembling, the shock pushing you forward as you collapse with your face pressed into fabric. You can’t breathe.

“Say what?” you ask, voice muffled as you roll your forehead side to side, your need for touch insatiable, “I’ll say anything if you’ll just fuck me.” Your inner thighs tense up, trying to relieve the aching pressure in your core.

“Hmm, kitten, so desperate, aren’t you?” his cockhead is at the entrance of your slit, teasing up along it, daring you to lean back and swallow it. You moan, and then a sting blooms as his palm comes down on your tender skin. “Answer me.”

“Yes, I’m desperate, please,” you’ve let him in, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to clutch on to your high with twisted fingers, they’d have to pry it from you. Lavender invades every inhale, burning your lungs, acid taking over your senses. He bends over you, across your back, and whispers into your ear, cool breath fanning the heated flesh.

“Would you like to cum?” he asks, the tip of his cock slipping between your folds. You can feel the edge of his head, the curve, as your lips wrap around it greedily, throbbing, sucking him in as he keeps it at bay. You nod your head furiously, dragging it against the sofa, tears darkening the fabric, tasting the sweet salt on your lips.

“Well, too bad, kitten,” he says, your pussy cold as he withdraws, falling down next to you. His large palms wrap around your cheeks, thumbs wiping at the streaks beneath your eyes, like miniscule cuts beneath your skin. Your heart drops to your stomach, lips back between your teeth as you chew, metal flooding your tastebuds. “Come sit on my lap instead.”

So, you clamber onto him, eagerly lining up your entrance once more to sink down and feel full, satisfied. You’ve always hated the colour purple, but you’re addicted.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wanted to put this at the top, but it was getting long, but I appreciate you guys so much.

Thank you @joyousandverywarlike for being my light in the darkness and @hisoknen for making sure I’m properly tagged. @whats-her-quirk for always hyping me up, i love you soul mate. @league-of-thots ;)

This was lowkey inspired by a thirst Zo and I did in the Harem discord after reading Snack Run by @lookslikeleese so go check that out!

#purple #purple pill #shinso x reader #shinso #shinsou #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso #bnha #bnha fanfics #mine #my writing #follower celebration #fan ficiton #shinso hitoshi #boku no hero #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime #claudia writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Biggest Fan 2

Part 1

Warning: coercion, blackmail, porn, nonconsent sex, cheating

It was a long, silent walk back to the office. You rubbed your palm with your thumb as you struggled not to think of the feel of him in your hand. The hardness still barely concealed in his pressed pants.

He opened the door for you and you walked ahead of him. He followed you up the stairs and you felt his gaze on your ass, realising too late your mistake. As you reached your floor, you rushed over to your desk and he let you. He went to his office. It was as if nothing had even happened. As if your hand hadn’t been on his dick only fifteen minutes before.

You took a shuddery breath and logged in to your computer. Most of your work was transcription or shadowing Andy. Nothing overly complicated. Even so, you found it hard to concentrate on your work. You rubbed your forehead and leaned back in your chair. You glanced towards Andy’s office, his door was open, he was watching you, his pen pressed to his bottom lip. He tore his eyes from you and grabbed his phone.

You wanted to be sick. You drew your attention back to your screen and forced yourself to type. The buzz of your phone distracted you but you ignored it. It vibed again and you slid it out of your blazer pocket onto your desk. You positioned it just under your monitor and unlocked it.

‘Today. After work.’ The first text read and the second hovered above. ‘I can’t wait for the real thing’.

You swept away the bubbles and blinked at the computer screen. He was like a teenager. This man you’d looked up to, this man you’d admired for his professionalism, his veracity, were just like those boys in your program who tried to talk you into one of their stupid red cup parties. And he was married. The thought made you want to sob but you just forced down the bile and kept typing.

Though the morning had dragged by, the rest of the day seemed to fly. You looked at the clock and your phone lit up. Another message from him. You packed up your things before you dare to grab your cell and reluctantly looked at it. ‘Got a meeting with Canavan. Meet me at Joe’s down the block, 20 min.’

You looked over and found his office empty. You’d been so determined to ignore him, you hadn’t even noticed him leave. You grabbed your bag and headed out. Joe’s was a coffee place just down the block, you always grabbed Andy a small coffee when you got yours. Wait, had you led him on? With coffee?

No, no. He was a forty year old man and you were just a college student. This wasn’t your fault. Well, those were your pictures on the internet. You had put them there.

You barely recalled making your descent onto the street or hurrying down to the little cafe. You ordered a bottle of juice so you could sit in the corner. You picked at the unbroken seal and your leg shook nervously beneath the table. What were you doing? If you just ignored him, would he really send those pictures? Andy was a good guy… or so you thought.

You were startled as the table shifted and he sat across from you. He smoothed the front of his suit and smiled at you then looked around.

“We shouldn’t stay here long,” He said. “Too close to work.”

“You can’t be serious about this?” You kept your voice low. “Andy, I--”

“Shhh,” He raised his hand. “Look, we don’t have time to waste.”

You stared at him and gulped.

“First thing, delete your account.” He said.

“What? I can’t-- That’s how I--”

“I told you. I’ll take care of you.” He interrupted. “Delete it. Now.”

“You’re married,” You whispered. “Why--”

“I know what I am. What I want.” He turned his hand down onto the table. “Ten seconds or I add your professor to the CC.”

“Goddamnit,” You bent and reached into your bag.

You sat up with your phone and keyed in the code. You opened the app and he took the phone before you could hit anything else. He placed it on the table between you and went to settings. You watched as he scrolled through the settings and finally found the option to delete. He accepted several warnings before everything just disappeared. He turned the phone back to you and slid it forward.

He stood and sighed as he checked his watch. “Alright. Laurie’s taken Jacob to his tournament so we should have some time. Let’s go.”

📚

Andy’s house was nice. Much nicer than your small apartment near the college. You felt out of place as he drove right into the garage and let you in through the side door. You hated that you were sneaking around. Hated that you were doing this at all.

You entered the kitchen and he turned to you. He took your bag and set it on the counter. You shuddered as you lifted your foot and he stopped you.

“Keep the shoes on,” He smiled. “I like ‘em.”

“Are you… sure about all this?” You lowered your foot slowly. “My account is gone, you made sure of it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” He grabbed your arm and wrenched you forward. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his crotch again. “Feel that. That’s what you do to me. Every fucking day.”

“Andy--”

He spun you and pushed you against the island. You saw a flowered notebook on the other side. That was probably hers, just like the man behind you. He leaned his weight against you as he gripped your waist and purred.

“I can’t help but think of you on my desk as I’m sitting on it but this will have to do,” His hand went to your ass and he slapped you hard. “Oh, fuck.”

His hands crawled up to your shoulders and he pulled your blazer off. He dropped it on the floor and reached around to unbutton your blouse. You grabbed his hand and he brushed you off.

“Don’t make this difficult, baby girl,” He warned. “Don’t tell me this isn’t what you wanted all along?” He tore your blouse open and forced it down your arms. “Posting those pictures.”

“Please--”

“Shhh, don’t want the neighbours to hear.” He flung your shirt. “They always are so fucking nosy.”

You hung your head as he unzipped the back of your skirt, pulling back to let it slip past your hips. It pooled on the tile and he stepped on it until you lifted your feet one at a time and he kicked it away. You regretted your ridiculous choice not to wear underwear. Well, it had been more a dare and earned you a smooth fifty on your paypal.

“Fuck.” He rubbed your ass as his other hand fought with his belt.

You smelled his woodsy cologne as his fumbling grew more frantic. You heard the soft metallic clink and his zipper as he pushed it down. He wiggled as he shoved his pants down. His hand went around to your stomach and he guided himself along your ass his foot between yours as he urged your legs apart.

You slapped your hands on the island as he dragged his swollen tip along your folds and found your entrance with a hum. He pushed inside you and jolted your hips into the edge of the counter, nuzzling his head into your neck as he leaned into you. His hot breath was wet against your skin as he forced himself to his limit.

“Shit,” You swore as you stretched around him.

“Mmmm,” He hummed and thrusted hard, lingering inside you as he basked in the feel. “God, you’re even better than I could have--” He rocked his hips again and choked. “Jesus.”

You scratched your nails against the marble island and pushed your head back against his shoulder as he moved his hips steadily, each tilt coming quicker than the last. You gritted your teeth as you tried to fight off your own arousal. Despite your reluctance, your core burned hot and you could hear how slick you were with each thrust.

He withdrew his hand from your stomach and grabbed your shoulders. He pushed you down until you were bent over the island and your feet left the floor. He held you down as his motion picked up and he slammed into you with dusky grunts. With each jolt of his hips, yours hit the marble and you held your breath to keep from moaning.

You closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to the cool counter. Your lips formed an O as you came quietly, covering your face with your arm. He crashed into you harder than before, you felt your juices spreading along the open v of his pants and the tails of his shirt. He gripped your hips and his thumbs dug into your flesh.

He pulled out of you sharply and swore as he spilled down your thigh, stroking himself along so that his tip rubbed his seed over your skin. Breathless, he spread his hand over your lower back then dragged it down to your ass and squeezed.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” He rasped.

He drew his hand and backed away. You slid off the island and your feet wobbled beneath you, your heels almost perilous as your legs buzzed. Andy leaned against the other counter as he wiped himself with a paper towel and put his cock away. He zipped up his pants and buckled his belt before tucking in his shirt and straightening his collar.

“Whew,” He took a breath. “Baby girl, that was worth every last penny.” He looked you up and down and bit his lip. “Better get dressed before the wife gets back.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber x reader #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #dark!andy barber x reader #andy barber x reader #drabble #sequel #biggest fan #defending jacob

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solomonish · 4 years

Text

From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? [email protected]: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #swd belphegor #obey me swd #belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphegor fluff #obey me imagines #long post #my fics #belphegor writing #satan writing #mine

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 4 years

Text

[Xiyao one-shot - NSFW - tw: blood / tw:body horror (to be on the safe side)]

[Masterpost]

He is hungry.

His body is broken and battered, stabbed clean through, and all Meng Yao can think of is how much he yearns to fill it. The gaps in himself, the holes, the spaces, the emptiness. His hunger is a deep-rooted tearing thing, ripping him to shreds from the inside out. He’s a husk, an empty hull waiting to be filled.

He is hungry.

His lover is a banquet. ‘Lover’ is perhaps too gentle of a word, but it begins to convey some sense of the desperate need for him. His feast, his fountain, his sacrificial offering. He’s meat and drink, Meng Yao bites into his chest until the wet tang of iron blooms hot and thick on his tongue. He dips between his legs and takes him into his mouth, swallows and sucks and wrings him dry at every opportunity - and they are numerous. Meng Yao sinks down onto him and lets him fill him, cock in his body, fingers in his mouth, he lets Lan Xichen pin him down and fuck him until he passes out and it’s not enough, not enough.

He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body.

If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.

No wine, no ale, no sweet fall of rain will slake. He can only accept the sharp bitterness of come in his throat. Can only yearn for the drips of thick blood onto his tongue.

Lan Xichen can heal himself. Meng Yao can bite his lip until sweet hot blood drips thick and syrupy into his waiting mouth. It will be healed by morning. The swelling will disappear, the injury forgotten. For now Meng Yao can press his lips to the wound and suck, demand more, beg in broken pleas for Lan Xichen to fill him again.

Months after their last meal together he finds himself still so hungry.

In the golden cage of his new rooms he ties his lover to the bed with the luxury of red silk ropes, strips him bare with the delicate drag of a knife through his finery. He doesn’t ruin it - such garments surely cost enough to feed him (the mundane sort of food he eats to survive) for a month, perhaps more. But he cuts the ties, severs them until they’re nothing more than misplaced scraps, useless strings that no longer keep him from what he craves.

He drags the tip of his knife along the hard cock in his lover’s trousers, root to tip, and watches his eyes go dark, nothing but black as his lips part around a moan. Jin Guangyao takes it greedily into his mouth, honeyed candy melting into the slick heat of his tongue as he holds the knife poised just so over his feast’s belly, ready to be carved into, consumed. His appetite has been whetted now and it grows harder and harder to keep it at bay.

He doesn’t even so much as nick the skin with something so impersonal as a knife, but its presence is thrilling, a possibility, a maybe. But when he climbs on top of his prize he digs his hands in and takes what he wants by the greedy fistful.

Over and over he eats, he sinks down onto hand or cock or face and lets his lover press pieces of himself inside him. The dexterous spread of his fingers, the thick blunt stretch of his cock, the plush tongue that fills his mouth just as eagerly in other circumstances. He grinds down onto whatever he’s given and tries to force it deeper, always deeper, it’s never enough he’s still hollow under his ribs, he’s nothing inside the shell of his skin.

Lan Xichen has so much to give as he’s clawed away piece by piece. The meat of his thigh, his ass, the unending supply of spend from his cock, the sweat in the crooks of his thighs and under his arms, the searing glide of his tongue, sharp pain of his teeth. Jin Guangyao could eat and eat and eat forever and his lover will replenish himself for him, heal and return for more, offer himself up for the taking at every possible opportunity.

It’s not enough.

He needs him more. Always more, more, more. He scratches into his chest as if to claw out his beating heart and take a bite, he licks the blood away, watches more of it bead up for his tongue again. So generous with his body, his lover is, and patient. He doesn’t even jump when sharp teeth break the delicate skin of his neck, his wrist, his thigh, he only moans and begs to be consumed, to fill him again and again.

Smears of crimson and soft lavender follow his ravenous mouth, blood and bruises sucked to the surface of milk-pale skin. The insides of his lover’s thighs are tender and sweet against his tongue and he takes and takes and takes until he’s fed as soon as his lips wrap around the red, wet head of his cock. He sucks him down anyway, the restraints around his lover’s wrists and ankles stilling his thrashing as he’s pushed past the point of pleasure into the exquisite pain of overstimulation - and Jin Guangyao still takes more. The silken soft weight of him in his throat, on his tongue, between his teeth makes him feel slightly less empty.

His hands press into the flesh of his hips, crack through to bone, to sinew, to hot sticky strings of blood that drip from his fingertips whenever he lifts them as he swallows around him again and again and again, devouring, craving, demanding everything that his devotee can give to him.

“A-Yao,” his swollen bloodied lips turn the moan pained, exhilarated. “A-Yao please.”

Pleas for relief are useless, they both know this. Jin Guangyao will take until he’s satisfied, Lan Xichen will provide. But then, the word he wants to hear - “More, A-Yao, more.”

His feast is so good to him. Never once asking to stop. To be shown mercy. It’s always more, more, please, let me fill you, A-Yao. The hands that feed him are generous indeed, and so Jin Guangyao reaches up, flicks the knife through the ropes around one wrist to slice it free, and then there are fingers scratching his back, trying to hitch him higher. He knows what Lan Xichen wants and he’s willing to humor him now so he goes, wrapping his starving mouth around a nipple instead so that he can arch into the lithe fingers that find their home stuffed in his entrance.

He’ll never be full. The world has left him a hollow shell of greedy desire, perpetually famished, parched, but there are moments when his lover’s gifts are numerous enough to pretend.

He gentles his mouth until he’s suckling and kissing, he lets the fire retreat low in his belly to leave his mind clear. He spreads his legs to let Lan Xichen slide a third finger inside of him, a fourth, and he moans sweetly for him as if in apology for the growling and snapping of his hollowed out anguish.

“Mmmm there you are,” Lan Xichen hums through his kiss-bitten lips pressed into his hair. “A-Yao, my A-Yao,” he purrs as he prods his fingers deeper, stretches him wide around them until it burns as hot as the greed in his veins. “You’ve ripped me apart again, my heart.”

Jin Guangyao retreats to sit up - grind further onto those fingers - and survey the damage.

Bloodied scratches down his chest. Bruises in the shape of his mouth everywhere they could conceivably be littered. Impressions of his teeth everywhere his muscles curve - biceps, shoulders, chest, hips. Half-moon punctures in his hips weeping crimson pearls. Sweat shining on his skin, breath heaving in his chest.

Raw adoration in his eyes.

“Am I enough for you?” Lan Xichen asks with a vicious twist of his wrist to slam harder inside him, to jerk his body hard and fast. “Am I enough yet, A-Yao?”

“No,” he gasps, as he always does. “I need you again. Just once more, A-Huan, one more.”

It’s always one more. One more bite, one more scratch, one more lick, one more fuck, one more day, week, month, year. One more lifetime to try to satiate themselves.

One more eternity.

“Good,” Lan Xichen purrs - and then he jerks his still-bound wrist hard enough to snap the rope and he’s pinning Jin Guangyao down to attempt to fill him up for good once more.

Always once more.

#the untamed fanfic #xiyao #lan xichen #meng yao #jin guangyao #dark JGY #hint of dark LXC #tw: blood #tw: body horror #if this needs other tw's or tags y'all please let me know #honestly I don't even know what this is lol #just wanted to try something different #everyone heartily consents in this but it's a little uhhhhhh #more violent than I usually write #my attempts at prose I guess?#Anyway. Uh. This is a thing

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our-chaoticwhispers · 4 years

Text

Glad You’re Home

Pairing: Chris Pine x Reader

Summary: After being away from home for 3 months, you are greeted by your boyfriend, Chris Pine, who wants to show you how much he missed you.

A/N: I originally posted this YEARS ago, but Tumblr blocked it. So, I’m re-posting it.

Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: ‘Sir’ Kink, Spanking (punishment), Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Voyeurism?

Word Count: 1,920

You had been away filming for a little over three months, and you were excited to finally be home and just relax. The drive home from the airport wasn’t bad, most of the LA traffic had dissipated. As soon as you pulled into your driveway, you noticed Chris’s car. Excitement flooded your veins as you parked. You walked up and unlocked the door, and were surprised to see a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table by the door with a little card sticking out that had your name on it.

Come upstairs, I am waiting.

-C

Heat raced straight through you since you knew what was most likely coming. You’d never know it from the look of him, his sweet and handsome face, those big blue eyes that you could get lost in, his goofy personality, but Chris Pine was very, very dominating in the bedroom.

As you walk up the stairs you hear what sounds like a guitar being played, Chris always played when he was trying to kill time. You walked into the master bedroom and saw him sitting in the corner by the sliding door, staring out at the city, guitar perched on his knee, idly playing.

“You’re late.” He said, not looking away from the view of the city.

“I never told you when I was coming home.” You said with a laugh, placing your purse on the dresser near the door.

“Fine, then you are later than I thought you would be.” He said finally looking at you. His pupils were blown and his eyes were dark, a dead give away that he was aroused.

“I’m sorry.” You said, coming up to the edge of the bed to take off your shoes.

“You’re sorry what?”

You tried and failed, to hide the smile that was playing on your lips “I’m sorry, sir.” you purred.

“That’s better.” He sauntered over to you, and you could see his massive erection tenting the front of his jeans. You licked your lips at the sight of him in his aroused state, and he saw you.

“Does something look appetizing, baby? I can feel you practically devouring me with your eyes."

He grabbed your face, pulling you up from the bed into a punishing kiss. All teeth and tongue. You moaned into his mouth, running your hands down his body and slyly over his erection.

His hands shot out, lightning-fast to grasp yours.

"Uh-uh, you know better. You don’t get to touch until I say you do.” He looked at you hard, and you knew what was coming next. “Take off your panties and bend over my lap.”

You did as you were told, not wanting him to think you broke the rules just to get punished (which you totally did). You gave him a sly smirk and walked over to him.

“Mmmm, you’re not wearing any, are you?” He asked as you laid over his lap, exposing your bare ass to him.

“No sir, I know you prefer me without them.” You tried fighting the moan that was bubbling in your throat from feeling his big hand rub your bare ass.

“Why are you being punished?” He asked.

“Because I touched you without permission, sir.”

“Very good. And how many spankings do you get?”

“Five.”

“Five, what?”

“Five, sir.”

“Thank you.” He said still rubbing your bottom. “I want to hear you count, and if I think you are enjoying it, I’ll hit harder. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s the safe word tonight?”

“Hmm, avocado.” You’ve never had to use your safe word, but it was always a good idea to have one.

Chris laughed a little. He squeezed your cheek before raising his hand and bringing it down hard on your ass.

“One.” You said with a slight yelp that you hoped covered your moan. He rubbed your cheek again before repeating his action.

“Two.” He wound up and struck your other cheek, “Three.”

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help but moan, not only from the spanking, but also from the feel of Chris’ rough palms rubbing your warm, pink flesh.

“Wrong answer.” He whispered in your ear before biting the sensitive skin just below, causing goosebumps to break out over your skin. He raised up and spanked you again, harder this time.

“Hmmph! Four!” You were so turned on it almost hurt.

“Last one baby, how do you want it?”

“However you give it to me, sir.” You were squirming on his lap, desperate for his touch.

“That’s my girl.” He said before smacking you just as hard as the last.

“Five!”

Chris massage your backside for a moment, and you reveled in his touch. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N).” You couldn’t help but beam at his compliment.

Suddenly, and without warning, Chris flipped you off his lap and onto the bed, spreading your legs open to him.

“Good girls get rewarded. Do you promise to behave?” He said kissing and gently biting the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

"Good, because all I have thought about all day is getting my mouth on you.”

He spread your legs wider, placing your legs on his shoulders and kissed his way to your clit. He moaned into your folds as he licked roughly up from opening to clit, savoring the sweet wetness on his tongue.

“God, I’ll never get tired of this.” He said before sucking lightly on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were doing your best to suppress your movements until you felt Chris slide two fingers into you and curl them up.

“Come on, baby. Let me hear you.” He said before pumping his fingers in and out of you. When his attention turned back to your clit, and you felt him suck a little harder, you involuntarily moaned out his name which made him speed up his actions.

Your legs were shaking of their own accord, and Chris could sense that you were close.

“Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, sir.” You moaned, fighting the urge to clamp your legs around his head.

“Come on, cum for me baby.”

He lapped at you and pumped his fingers in you, curling them up to hit that perfect spot, until you were shaking uncontrollably and all but screaming his name.

He worked you through your orgasm and lapped up everything your body gave him. When you were done, he kissed his way up your body until he got to your face. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips and gently ran a hand up your side, before lining himself up and roughly pushing in.

Chris could be gentle sometimes, but both of you liked it a little rougher. He grabbed your legs and started the thrust into you like a man possessed. Rocketing his hips into you to make up for the last three months.

He pushed in a little harder each time, moaning praises in your ear and biting your neck each time you cried out his name. You could feel the pressure building, and your contracting muscles let Chris know that you were close. Chris grabbed your ass and thrust deep inside you. Hitting your g-spot with perfect accuracy every time.

He grabbed your neck, adding just enough pressure to slightly cut off your air supply, and he pistoned into you. He released his hold on your neck, long enough for you to gasp in some air before cutting it off again.

When you finally came, he flipped you onto your stomach and rubbed your clit while spreading your wetness over your asshole and stuck a finger inside.

“What’s the rule?” He said easing up on your clit.

“Tell you if it hurts.” Anal was one of Chris’s favorite things to do, and the first time, he went harder than you were ready for. It wasn’t his fault. He asked if you were okay, and he told him that you were.

“Ready?” He asked adding another finger, making sure to take care and prep you.

“Yes, sir.” He slowly replaced his fingers with his cock. Careful not to move too fast, giving you plenty of time to adjust until he was fully seated. You moaned in pleasure at the feeling of him inside you.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” He froze, genuine concern in his voice.

“Yes, sir. I promise. It feels so good.” You could sense him smirking. He kept up a slow pace, always afraid it might be too much for you. He was nothing if not a gentleman.

“Tell me what you want.” He said, yanking your head back with a fistful of hair.

“Harder.” You moaned, forgetting to say ‘sir’. He let you know that you forgot by swatting at your ass, but he was only too happy to oblige. He snapped his hips forward, cause the air in your lungs to come out in a whoosh.

He leaned forward over your back and pounded into you. Constantly asking if you were okay, and every time you reassured him that you were, he’d push a little harder, go a little deep.

He reached around to your clit and started rubbing furiously. Telling you, nay, ordering you to cum. When you did, you screamed his name. Shaking and sweating. He didn’t relent. If anything he picked up the pace, both with his hips and his hand, but then unexpectedly stopped when he felt you tense up for another orgasm.

Chris pulled out, much to your dismay, kissing your back, before walking to the bedside table to grab a condom. A sign that he was almost ready to cum, himself.

After rolling it on, he picked you up off the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips and lined himself back up with your sensitive pussy. You shivered at the sensation. You were so close to cumming again, and the added fullness of him inside of you was almost too much.

He sat down on a chair that was on the patio overlooking the city, and moved you up and down on his cock, adding a finger or two in your ass for good measure.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said as he picked up the pace, slamming you down on him before lifting you back up to repeat the movement.

“I love you too, Chris.” You said, looking him in the eyes as your walls clenched around him. You gripped the banister behind him as you came for the third time that night. Chris pulled you closer and moaned your name as he came.

“You forgot to say 'sir’, baby,” Chris said, playfully hitting your ass. He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, where he deposited you on the sink before turning and running a bath for the two of you.

Once the bath was ready, he picked you back up and slid the two of you in the tub. Chris was always so attentive after sex. As much as he loved being rough, he was always aware that he may push a little too hard, and he wanted to make sure that he took care of you after.

He rubbed your neck and shoulders, enjoying the slight moans you were making.

“I’m glad you’re home.” He said, kissing your shoulder.

“I can tell.” You said, shocked to feel his erection against your back so soon.

You surprised Chris by turning around and straddling him, grinding yourself against me, and planting a chased kiss on his lips.

“I’m glad I’m home too.” You said, before sinking down on his length.

#chris pine #chris pine x reader #chris pine smut #captain james t. kirk

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

Bang for Your Birthday

Summary: Your boyfriend gives you the ultimate birthday gift

Pairings: Loki x Reader, Surprise characters x reader,

Warnings: Gang bang? GANG BANG! Dubious-Consent.

A/N: This is super SELF-INDULGENT (I wrote this on my birthday)

His tongue was Valhalla. You peeled off his top, breaking the kiss. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. You grabbed at his shoulders, wanting him back on top of you.

“Are you ready for your birthday gift?” Loki’s eyes got that evil gleam.

“This wasn’t it?” You looked at the diamond bracelet. Not to mention the lingerie, countless flowers, perfume, chocolates, and fantastic dinner.

“No.” He slinked down, making you whine. “This is special. All for you Love.”

You sat up on the giant bed. Your green neglige dropping off your shoulder. Loki took your hand, the two of you both on your knees. His hands found your waist and he pulled you close, resuming the kiss.

Part of you wanted to dive back into it, but your mind raced with what he had in mind.

“Relax.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “This is all about you.”

The kissing resumed. You tried to listen to him, you trusted him, one of the few people in the nine realms who did. You hoped that wouldn’t prove faulty.

His hands went to the silk of your nightie and he pushed the other strap down, guiding the garment down to your legs. You shifted your knees and climbed out of the thing, naked for him.

Your hands went to his pants, wanting to feel his marble like skin on your own.

Lips touched your neck and you gasped. Pushing away from Loki. You pressed your head to his chest, for protection as you turned.

“I’m sorry my lady.” The guest shifted on the bed. “I did not mean to frighten you. Quite the opposite in fact.”

“NO!” You turned and looked at Loki, unable to control your features. “Is he real?”

“Tonight he is.” Loki’s devilish grin grew as he took in your amazement. “It’s all about you. Enjoy.”

“You see.” The guest moved closer. “I was on my way to join the fellowship, but I got lost. Then I spotted your magnificent form. I could not help but join you.”

The long blond hair, the alabaster skin, the changing eye color going a deep brown. His clothing was gone, but there was a bow on the bed.

“I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm.” He was hesitant as he kissed your shoulder and took your wrist. “And your beauty could make kings fall to their knees.”

You were awe struck, staring at the man.

“Go on Love.” Loki moved you so your back was to Legolas’ chest. “Enjoy your gift.”

Before you could respond Legolas began kissing your shoulder. Loki used the opportunity to dip down to your breasts. He looked up at you as he sucked a nipple between his lips.

The elf slid his hand down your stomach and cupped your mound, rubbing his palm against your sensitive clit. You moaned and relaxed.

“That’s it.” Loki released your nipple, now stiff. “Good girl.”

You moaned as a finger traced up your thigh, sliding into your pussy with ease. You moaned and started to rock between the two. Four hands, two mouths on your body. All rubbing and working at you.

The sensations were putting you into overdrive. You let your eyes shut as your body came to life between the two.

“You’re not doing it right.” A deep voice came out of nowhere and your eyes popped open. “Too soft.”

Before you could react a hand was on your neck. Pushing you away from Legolas and Loki. A scared face looked down at you, heavy with authority.

“She needs to be controlled.” He pushed you down on your back. “Shown what she is capable of.”

“You’re….You’re Kylo Ren?” You blinked as the sith glared down at you.

“See?” He grabbed your chin and stuck a finger in your mouth. “Already too mouthy.”

You were about to gag, when he pulled the digit out and positioned himself between your legs. You looked at Loki, this was starting to feel like cheating, but your boyfriend just grinned down at you.

“Ahh!” You back arched and your neck popped up.

The view almost made you cum, dark hair between your legs, his tongue working your slit, before his mouth found your bundle of nerves. You let out a squeal and tried to shut your legs in response, but his grip was too hard.

“AM I THE ONLY ONE DOING ANY WORK AROUND HERE?” Kylo’ s voice boomed. “THE GIRL!”

Loki and Legolas appeared on either side of you. Both of their cocks were inches from your face. You opened your mouth.

“Not yet pet.” Loki ran his dick across your nipple. “Much more to enjoy.”

You whimpered, but then gasped as Kylo’s tongue returned to your pussy, working it like the master he was. Loki turned your head and you met Legolas’ lips. His kiss was light. If this was all Loki he was doing a damn good job at each character.

Lips found your breast again and you wiggled underneath the three of them. Fingers stroking your flesh as Kylo’s tongue worked you into a frenzy, his mouth sucking and teasing you.

“Mmmm.” Your vision was starting to blur.

“A true gourmet knows to tenderize first.” The accented voice made you sit up.

“NO!” You looked at Loki.

“Oh yes.” He grinned. “You think you can hide those fantasies from me?”

“Never let something so delicious rest.” They left your body and you whimpered as you looked at Loki.

“Don’t be ashamed Love.” He stroked your cheek. “I want you to enjoy. Welcome our newest edition.”

Hands lifted and guided you to your hands and knees.

“Hello Doctor Lecter.” You looked up at the man as he moved on his knees to his face.

“Good evening.” His hand ran over your hair. “Tonight, I am inviting you to the feast.”

Before you could object he gripped your head and guided it to his erection. You moaned as he slid into your mouth.

“As a man well versed in anatomy, I can tell you gentlemen all of her eroginous zones.”

“No need.” Legolas chimed in. “I have found little flowers can protest, but they blossom under my care.”

A finger slid inside your pussy and you moaned around Hannibal’s cock. Then it vanished, and your eyes bulged as you felt pressure on your ass. You tried to push off of Hannibal.

“None of that Love.” Loki whispered in your ear. “You want to be a generous host to our guests, don’t you?”

You whined as the digit slid inside of you.

“Yes girl.” Kylo sounded like he was below you. “Listen to your master.”

You grunted and gave Loki a side eye. He smirked. But Hannibal started sliding your head faster. Then Kylo’s mouth was back on your clit, sucking and teasing.

Loki began kissing your shoulder as his hands went back to teasing your nipples, pinching and releasing. Your moans returned, to the point you didn’t notice when a second finger slid into you asshole.

“She is preparing quite well.” Hannibal slammed your head down hard. “Quite the dish.”

“Agreed.” Legolas started scissoring his fingers. “I think she is ready to be fulfilled.”

You whimpered again and Hannibal let go of your head. You tried to pull back all the way, but he stopped again, choking a little on Hannibal’s head before he let his cock drop out of your mouth. You coughed and sputtered.

“Our final guest has arrived.” Loki was too pleased with himself.

You felt a hard bite in your neck and a shriek came out. Your head whipped to the side and you almost came at the sight of the fangs, a small drop of your blood visible.

“Dracul—AHH!” Legolas’ fingers were replaced with something larger and you fell forward. “FUCK!”

“You will get used to it soon.” Loki rubbed your head. “I promise you will take nothing but pleasure the rest of the night.”

You panted as the men looked down at you, trying not to envision the elf’s dick sliding into you ass. You mewled at the burn of it. The wonderful stretch.

“Breathe Darling.” Loki stroked your hair.

You shut you eyes and willed yourself to relax.

“Wonderful.” Loki kissed your cheek.

“He’s in.” Kylo’s voice made you look up.

Five gorgeous men towered over you on their knees. The bed below you shifted. Hands moved you like you weighed nothing and soon Kylo was underneath you.

You bit your lip as they lowered you onto his dick, Legolas’ making it feel that much larger because of your stuffed passage.

“It hurts.” You looked at Loki. “Too much.”

A finger found your clit, and hands went back to your breasts.

“Not for you Love.” Loki ran his hand over your hair. “It feels good.”

“Fuck.” You dropped your head, because he was right.

In fact, it felt amazing.

“I know my girl.” Loki’s hand found your jaw.

He dug his fingers into your mouth and you opened while he guided your mouth back onto Hannibal’s cock.

Teeth dug into your neck again and you groaned.

“What beautiful music.” The Transylvanian guided your hand to your neck and wiped away some of the blood.

He brought it to his cock and started to stroke, making you jerk him with your own blood.

Hands and lips and tongues and teeth were all over you. It was impossible to keep straight who was where. But every time you focused on Loki he just grinned down at you. Nothing but pride on his face and your favorite fictional crushes fucked you in every way.

“Just beautiful.” He licked his lips. “What a sight. Enjoy.”

You did as you were told. Even if you had wanted to object, there was no room for it. The men were working your body like none other.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came on their cocks. You didn’t know if you had been close or just had no dominion over yourself. Either way, you didn’t care.

Like a chorus of champagne bottles they went off. Each blowing inside of you. Hannibal tasted like steak. Filet.

You collapsed when him and Dracula let you go. Legolas slipped out of your ass and Kylo rolled you on to your back.

The room was spinning as they stared down at you. Your body shaking from the finish and their absence.

“Thank you.” You reached for Loki’s thigh.

“Happy birthday Love.” Loki looked down at you.

“Eat shit!” A new voice made you dip your head into the mattress. “Did I miss the party?”

“Of course not Mr. Drysdale.” Loki laughed. “It’s only just begun.”

Ransom fucking Drysdale. You looked back up at Loki. Best. Present. Ever.

#Loki x reader #multi fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #multifandom fanfic

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the-slasher-files · 4 years

Text

DIFFERENT PREADTORS - chapter seven

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAIVERA LAH-MO

oooh boy onto seven, and my heart breaks. This chapter honestly made me cry, it is a very sad and angry Andrei. Someone get this man a therapist lol. I cannot believe their story is ending, I just don’t want it to end, but I guess there is always a goodbye at some point. Grab your tissues and watch Andrei self destruct. Make sure read part one, two, three, four, five, and six.

Please go read @horrorslashergirl oc Xaviera’s perspective linked HERE

MASTERLIST

The house was in flames. Falling to pieces like the people in front of it. Memories, terror, destruction, pain, love and fear billowed in the black smoke tearing into the cold winds.

“Amaria!... Want else do you want?!” He howled. “It’s over! They’re gone!”

“No Drei.. NO!” She cried. He grabbed her in desperation. “Andrei, please!”

Falling to their knees on the frozen soil of home, he held her as she sobbed. “Come with me.. Amaria please. Ari I can protect you.”

“Protect me?! What the fuck did you ever protect me from?!” Clawing away he clutched her wrists. “Let me GO!” She wailed. Breath curling away white into the smoke.

Swallowing harshly, pushing the lump in his throat down “Amaria ENOUGH! It’s over!” Looking her in the eyes, a tear formed. The same blue their mother had given, he pleaded. “Come with me.... please.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” she whispered.

He let her go. Dusting off the snow. The bitter taste of fear and desperation on his tongue. He looked to the flames, claws fisted and teeth bared. The fur was rising on his spine in protection as he looked to his left hand.. No Gods... He did this... She walked into the snow and the wolf howled into the smoke. He was alone. Alone. For the first time in his life.

Ice blue eyes snapped open, and he remembered to breathe. Remembering where he was. The warm sun flooded the wooden cabin that housed the two predators, safely. Andrei smelt tea, his favorite; Earl Grey. Then he realized there was no weight on his chest, only his arms.

“Shit.” Andrei jumped up thinking she had left him already, the stealthy little feline could always manage to escape his grasp. His trained eyes scanned the cabin meticulously. Her maps, rifle and bag were still here, and he could breathe deeply again.

Moving slowly to the kitchen there was a nice warm mug of tea for him, which Andrei took happily as he looked out the window. A smile tried to creep on his face as white long locks blew in the breeze, Xaviera. Walking to the front door he opened it and saw her, just in his black long sleeve and panties. Cold weather was never a bother to him, half the time at home he was shirtless in the Siberian winter, but he worried about her. Andrei cared for the first time in a long time about someone else. It felt right. Felt like a job he was made to be doing since day one.

Placing his large frame behind Xaviera, one arm wrapping around her waist while he held the mug in his other hand. “Baby its cold out here, you should come inside..” Andrei gently kissed her crown “I don’t want my little kitten freezing her tail off.”

She moved her body closer to his “Mmmm…. I just love the cold breeze in the morning. Freshen’s me up.” Xaviera replied, taking one of his hands and kissing his knuckles. “How did you sleep, Wolfy?” she asked, looking over her shoulder up at him, icy eyes meeting one another.

Smirking down at her, pulling her as close as he could, just wanting to hold her, savoring these dilactate last moments together. Andrei wasn’t going to tell her about his haunting memories that plagued his sleep, instead his humor coated him like an amour. Looking up and moving his neck back and forth, cracking it loudly “Couches aren’t for necks,” Andrei silently laughed “but you somehow always manage to make me over sleep, so it wasn’t too bad”

Leaning down he kisses her, slowly, not wanting to pull away, squeezing his eyes closed in desperation. Begging to some higher power that it wouldn’t hurt when he left her. Opening his eyes he pulls away, looking over her frame and examining if she’s really cold or not “How about you little snow leopard?”

“Mmm me? Well…. I slept like a baby in your arms… You kept me so warm.” She answered, turning around and nuzzling her nose into his neck. A sense of pride swarming Andrei as she spoke, knowing a little creature could sleep so peacefully in his destructive arms, arms that have taken so much from this world.

He sighed, the end was coming and it was going to hurt, he felt the wolf wanting to come out, to protect his heart, to push away, to be cold but Andrei just didn’t want that to happen. The wolf persisted.

“Well, I have a long hike out of here so… I, uh… I better start to pack.�� He pulled away coldly going back inside, the coldness was his home and it protected him. Marching upstairs Andrei grabbed his bag, loading up his extra clothes, weapons and ammo. Something stopped him.

Icy eyes fell upon the tangled sheets of the bed and he closed his eyes, licking his lips. All the memories that were held within them, everyone of her breaths, her whimpers, her screams. His vulnerability, his groans, his peaceful sleeps. It was all too much for the wolf. A burst of rage sparking like a wildfire.

“Fuck!” The wolf spat, kicking the arm chair that was beside the bed with a bang. The anger coating his hurt in a dangerous coping mechanism. Throwing his guns in the black duffle bag, he marched downstairs.

Seeing Xaviera look at him as he came down the stairs made something stir in him more, looking like she saw him as a predator again. Throwing his bag at the door, Andrei deeply inhaled, trying to ease his anger.

Breathe Andrei... Take her home... Breathe... Be grateful...

Calming himself Andrei walked over to her, one of his large hands holding her hip while the other ran through her white hair. He never wanted this to end. Feeling her tense a little, Andrei’s heart broke, he could never hurt her but he was by just being in her life. Quickly Xaviera relaxed and leaned into him.

“Thank you… for everything.” she whispered, resting her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Closing her eyes, she leaned in, pressing her lips gently against his own, closing his eyes as well, he held her close, kissing as if it was the last kiss he could ever give, deepening it as his hand ran through her white hair and their tongues danced together. The wolf grew needy for her again but he kept it under control, pulling away after a few minutes he rested his forehead on hers, stroking her cheek.

“No… Thank you Xaviera.” Andrei whispered, not letting her go and just staring in her eyes, getting lost in them and trying to remember them forever. “Wil- could you ever…” he tried to push through his vulnerability, he couldn’t, deeply inhaling shaking his head slightly, pulling away and smiling “Nevermind… my shirt looks good on you baby girl.” He smirked trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh…. Oh! Y-Yeah…Ummm… D-Do you want it back?” She quickly asked while blushing. Those cute stammering words and that blush again was going to kill him. He just wanted all of her, all of her accepting him.

Andrei smiled running his hands on her arms, “No, no.. you keep it.. its warm.” Then his eyes went to his necklace he had given her, and the mark that was starting to scar, peaking out from the top of his shirt. “Now you have 3 gifts from me myshka,” Andrei took his large inked hand cupping her jaw and placing a thumb gently around the healing black eye she had gotten from the now dead rotting man in the snow. “It’s the least I could give you,”

The wolf was greedy within him, wanting to just selfishly take her home, keep her from her life and job, but he couldn’t for some reason. He needed her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Needed her to run free like the wild animal she was.

“Thank for saving me…” Xaviera had saved him physically, but she saved his brain from eating itself whole in the night, and from the torment of his dark life, just to see the light for a few days. Something he hadn’t seen in years. “Thank you Xaviera…. You’re so beautiful.. so strong… don’t let anyone tame you kitten.”

Andrei could see an internal conflict inside her eyes, much like his. “T-Thank you for these words, Wolfy. I will sure remember them for the rest of my life.” she whispered, pressing her lips against the wolf’s tooth in her hand, then leaning her forehead against his chest.

Andrei just held her close, large arms around her waist, his face in her hair, closing his eyes just breathing her in. The smell of night flowers and sweetness drove him wild.

Be grateful Andrei.. She was good to you.. Be grateful

He held her for what seemed like a lifetime but he felt something build under the surface, it was emotions and deep fears from his past of people leaving him, he had to finish this quick, consume himself in work and lose himself in blood lust yet again, have the wolf protect his soul from the hurt.

Pulling away again Andrei cupped her jaw one last time. “Thank you.” He whispered and kissed her deeply. Just one last kiss. Feeling her sweet lips for the last time.

“Good bye Xaviera.” Soft blues turned cold again as he let her go, and turned away pulling on his jacket and vest, grabbing his bag. Andrei turned one last time smirking his classic smirk. “Good bye beautiful.”

With that the wolf walked out into the snow. He was headed home feeling the flesh within his chest tear and rip in pain. A feeling he had not felt since Amaria had left him all those years ago, but this seemed more painful in a way, it was a fresh and fast wound Xaviera had created in his chest, and he was bleeding out in the snow of an unfamiliar forest.

Breathing deeply, he was on his own once again. The lone wolf taking the path down the mountain, he looked back on the path almost praying she would be there, but she wasn’t, she never would be. Crossing the avalanche path, he was grateful for the destruction that lead to so much kindness, memories he would hold forever. Andrei would be forever changed by the avalanche, much like the trees and the rocks that had been displaced by the force of nature, it was meant to happen. Nature’s way of placing predators together for better or worse.

Ice blue eyes met the ridge where he had first seen Xaviera, but there was something in her place; a snow leopard. White fur camouflaged in the snow, blue eyes meeting his. Andrei smiled as it ran up the incline, much like the woman he had chased in the beginning. “do svidaniya snezhnyy bars... Spasibo (Goodbye snow leopard... Thank you)”

After a four hour trek, Andrei found the old truck waiting for him in the forest where he had left it. Throwing his stuff in he sat quietly, resting his head on the steering wheel, he breathed slowly, feeling his throat close. It was hard to breathe without her now. It was hard to think. It was hard breathe.

Andrei left the bitter taste of fear and desperation on his tongue. Claws fisted and teeth bared. The fur was rising on his spine in protection once more. The wolf hadn’t taken what was his, but he was grateful for this hunt.

10 Months Later.......

The long graveled road he walked home once more. He swallowed thickly, knowing this road was going to be his grave one day, and the house in the distance was his broken tombstone. The fields around him covered in snow with the brown grass peaking through, taunting him with hope of better days to come.

He wasn’t at home anymore. It never felt right. Just a structure of empty bones beckoning him inside. Inside the jaws of his own mind again.

The wolf inhaled as he hesitated to reach for the door. What the point of this anymore, nothing was here for him. Everything mocked him here. The blood still seeped from his wound from many months ago, the wound she inflicted. It wouldn’t go away, especially today.

The hunt was fresh, merely just an hour ago he had ripped a man’s spine out and let the blood drain into the motherland. The man carried a sniper rifle, an American one. It tore open the wound, ripping the flesh as crimson was on his coat.

Opening the door, he threw the rifle down, taking off the mask that made him the wolf and the vest that had protected him. The wolf was now just a shell. Scared and broken he rushed to the cabinet grabbing his clear poison and swallowing it down in a desperate need, choking on the yearning he couldn’t force away.

The silence over took him again. A silence he usually would bask in was now haunting. The wolf had taken mission after mission not to be in this house, now filled with nightmares and devastation. He was alone. That was a taste he tried to spit out, but he couldn’t.

Every time he would look in the mirror, his eyes reminded him of hers, his tattoo was a reminder of the times she traced it, his canines were a reminder of her sweet blood and the scar he left. She was tearing him asunder, with no mercy. Her innocent soul, was the most sinful in his head.

Breaking the glass bottle on the floor as he finished it, he sat in his destruction. The glass, the broken tables he hadn’t fixed from last time, the holes in the drywall. He sat in it. Coating his fur as he howled for her. A tear teased to fall but he would never let it, if he gave in he would be done for.

The wolf had only felt this once before, and he just prayed that she remembered the good of him, not his monster. His smile, without the teeth. His hands, without the claws. He begged.

Looking down at his hands the words printed made the wolf combust, standing he threw the chair against the wall as he growled, wood splintering to the floor.

He had done this, there were no gods to blame here. It was just him. Alone. Again. He just hoped she was happy.

#SAD... SAD AND ANGRY WOLF #my writing #horror #slasher #oc #Andrei Kulokova #Xaviera Lah-Mo #Andrei x Xaviera

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brownshouto · 4 years

Text

With the Sun in your hands

The first time Mafuyu came in contact with snow, he was exposed, skin untouched by cold tenderness. He awaited cruelty; snow is harsh, it makes winter ruthless, it shows no mercy, but unlike what he was expecting, its touch was soothing, soft, comforting.

Continue readind under the cut or on Ao3

Winter had a reputation; its cold seeped into your bones, snow burnt your skin until nothing but frostbitten flesh was left.

Mafuyu, a winter baby, grew up in a house on fire. There was no moment the flares wouldn't lick his skin, leaving angry welts on its wake. His mother, a wilting flower under the extreme heat, did all she could to shield him from the flame but he was inevitably burnt by it eventually.

The first time he came in contact with snow, he was exposed, skin untouched by cold tenderness. He awaited cruelty; snow is harsh, it makes winter ruthless, it shows no mercy, but unlike what he was expecting, its touch was soothing, soft, comforting.

Yuki arrived in his life like a blizzard. He turned his world upside down at first, very much like a first friend does, and then when his world indeed started collapsing on itself, he was the cooling snowflakes that graced his skin with kindness after the flames had hurt him, he held his hand steady as the hot air of the fire threatened to suffocate him.

"Mafuyu, as long as I'm here, no one is going to hurt you again." There was no way a child could be sure of that, but Mafuyu let the comforting words wash over him. He gripped Yuki's hand tighter, and at that moment, his promise appeared to him like words carved in stone, a magical contract never to be broken.

Mafuyu woke up to one of the earliest memories he had of Yuki. They were sitting down under the same tree where Yuki first found Mafuyu, their fingers intertwined. Yuki had dropped those words as Mafuyu watched him poke some bugs with a stick.

He smiled wistfully at the memory of the long broken promise, after all, death overwrites all contracts. He wondered if eight-year-old Yuki would have made the same vow had he known Mafuyu was destined to be the one to hurt him. Mafuyu closed his eyes momentarily; he could go back to sleep for a little while longer, he could bask in the early memories of Yuki, that ached so profoundly, or he could wake up to feed Kedama.

He ended up getting up; he had a dog to take care of and a flat to tidy up before his boyfriend came over to hang out during their rest day. He let a small smile grace his lips. His boyfriend Uenoyama would be coming over, maybe they could cuddle, that sure would fluster him, He loved to know he had that effect on his darling. He felt fortunate to be so thoroughly adored by such a radiant soul, a heart he had to treat with care to treasure it the way Uenoyama deserved.

By midday, he had nothing to do but to regularly check his phone, waiting for the text that would let him know his boyfriend was right outside his door. After 10 minutes of sitting on the floor with Kedama on his lap, impatiently running his hands through his dog's soft fur, he picked up his phone to text his boyfriend.

M: Where are you?

U: omw, sorry, I had to outrun a cat.

M: So do you want McDonald's?

U: I'll love whatever you get me.

U: ...Sorry, that was weird.

M: McDonald's it is <3 Hurry!

U: ok!

U: <3

He beamed at his screen. His heart was beating fast; he felt impatient in the most thrilling way, anticipation to spend time with someone he loved built up in his chest, overwhelmingly warm and gentle, and so he yelled as a response to his intense emotions.

"Mafuyu! are you okay?" his mom came into his room with quick steps and a worry written all over her face.

"Sorry I was just excited." He could see her face relax, and she gifted him a blinding smile. It had been a while since he yelled because he couldn't handle his happiness or yelled at all. Ever since Yuki's death, Mafuyu's emotions have been muted, dulled and grey. Uenoyama brought back some of that intensity to his feelings; they were just too much sometimes.

"Oh, that's great! Uenoyama is coming over, right? Do you have enough money to order food? Do you want some more? I could lend you some, I worked a couple of extra hours the other day, or you can cook if you wish to, I've heard that's romantic, or you could go-"

"Mom, it's okay, we are just going to order in and watch some movies, maybe walk Kedama again." His mom had sped up through all the possibilities, and Mafuyu knew she just wanted him to have a good time.

"Oh perfect, I'll be leaving for work in a couple of minutes, text me if you need anything."

"Okay, mom, good luck."

With that, his mom left, shutting the door behind her. Not even a minute had passed when he heard a knock on his door. He got out of his room to open it, expecting it to be his mom having forgotten something like she usually does. What he didn't expect was to see a red-faced Uenoyama at his door.

"Oh... hi, Uenoyama."

"You didn't tell me your mom was going to be coming out right as I was arriving."

"She wasn't. You are late."

"That means she was going to be here when I got here with just store-bought chips and a hoodie, that's not better!"

"Are you going to stay there or are you coming in?" Mafuyu smiled softly at his embarrassed boyfriend, he knew Uenoyama was hell-bent on doing the most to ensure his mom liked his new boyfriend. Funnily enough, Yuki had been just the same, even though his mom had known him for more than half his life, he still insisted on being nothing short of a gentleman whenever she was close. Mafuyu used to tell him there was no point since she had already seen him sick and covered in vomit from eating dirt that one time when he was 8.

Ah... these were all things he wouldn't get to experience again. Mafuyu didn't even remember when was the last time he'd made fun of Yuki for that.

His melancholy must have shown on his face because Uenoyama had that weird look in his eyes, he looked disoriented, and Mafuyu hated himself for putting that expression on his face.

"Yeah, I'm coming in, if I spend one more minute in this wind, I'm going to catch a cold." He quickly stepped aside to let Uenoyama in and closed the door behind him.

"So... do you want to get settled?" You know where the sofa is." He took the bag from Uenoyama's hands. "Oh, I forgot to order the food, can you do that? I'm going to put these in a bowl.

"Okay....cheeseburger with extra cheese, lettuce and no pickles, right?"

He walked back into the living room, where Uenoyama was now fiddling with his phone while sitting on the sofa, he took the bowl of chips in his hands as he dropped next to his boyfriend and kissed his cheek "You know me best."

"O-OKAY BURGERS ORDERED!" Mafuyu found Uenoyama's reactions too adorable to handle. He wanted to draw them all out, get to know this beautiful boy sitting next to him even further, see the look on his face as he kissed his nose or brought him home-made lunch to band practice, he wanted his expressions when he took his hand and kissed his knuckles, he wanted them all.

"Which movie are we watching?" he said as he picked up the remote.

"Ah! I asked Haruki for recommendations!" Uenoyama clasped his hands in determination only to whisper the words he said next, "I guess...we could do romance if you want."

"Mmmm," he nodded slightly, "Romance sounds good."

"Good! Haruki told me about this..." Mafuyu found himself zoning out while Uenoyama selected the movie, he had no words to express how cherished he felt, Uenoyama was trying so hard to be a good boyfriend because he cared about Mafuyu. It made his chest feel tight and warm in a way it hadn't felt for a long while, for a moment guilt gripped his heart with freezing hands, reminding him of the lost love he was so eagerly letting go. No. Yuki wouldn't want this. Or would he? He couldn't want anything anymore. He was dead. Dead .

"... and it's light-hearted according to him, do you want to watch it?" guilt squeezed his heart tighter, here he had a wonderful boy right next to him, and he couldn't give him the undivided attention he deserved, too busy mourning to be who Uenoyama needed him to be.

"Maf-"

"Yes, let's watch it." He knew Uenoyama had noticed, he always did. His eyes got this lost look that stabbed and twisted the knife deep in Mafuyu's soul every time he saw it. He knew he was responsible for it, but Uenoyama wouldn't tear his gaze away, he wouldn't run from it. He would look at Mafuyu and leave him feeling known, open and vulnerable.

He decided to cuddle up to Uenoyama to quiet his mind and stabilise his emotions. He ignored his boyfriend's squeak and placed his head below Uenoyama's chin and hugged his middle, the fabric of his hoodie was soft and brought him comfort, "Mmm, you are warm."

There was a knock on the door that made Uenoyama jolt away from the couch and upright, "IT MUST BE THE FOOD! I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!"

Mafuyu pouted to himself, his relationship with Uenoyama was riddled with awkwardness and uncertainty, but Uenoyama was worth it, this novelty was new for him as well. His previous relationship was entirely different. He and Yuki had known each other their whole life, and falling in love had been seamless. Mafuyu couldn't pinpoint the exact moment a romantic layer had been added to his love for Yuki. They just fitted together like puzzle pieces.

During the first days of his relationship with Yuki, Mafuyu would be hesitant to kiss him or hold his hand. Yuki would respect his boundaries and not push. They already knew each other like the back of their palms. He remembers the first time Yuki kissed him; he had squeaked similarly to Uenoyama even after being asked for permission, and his ex-boyfriend had thrown his head back and let out a soft laugh.

He remembers it all, the clothes they were wearing, the look in Yuki's face, the way his lips felt against his, and his... laugh .

His laugh.... he couldn't remember his laugh. He had a vague idea of the ring of it, but he couldn't replay it in his mind.

He had forgotten his laugh! How dare he forget it? How dare he not think about Yuki enough to remember it still? How dare he forget the sound of his best friend, his lover, his life, laughing? NO! He couldn't be forgetting Yuki. This couldn't be happening. He promised himself he wouldn't forget him, not a single thing.

He forgot his laugh, he forgot, he forgot, he forgot, he forg-

"Mafuyu!" Uenoyama's voice was nothing but noise as his mind clogged up. How could he? How could he forget and live on to find new loves when Yuki's first and last would always be Mafuyu? How dare he forget when Yuki's death was his fault? How dare he find comfort in another when Yuki would never feel anything anymore. How dare he forget what he could never hear ever again? What could he do? He couldn't bring the memory back. He couldn't bring Yuki back, ask him to laugh one last time for him. What could Mafuyu do against the all-powerful passing of time? Time was always accompanied by oblivion, and against them, he was powerless.

In the background of his mind, he could register Uenoyama shutting the windows, turning off the lights, the television. Everything was too much, and he was left unresponsive. Uenoyama sat on the couch far away from him, far enough to not overwhelm Mafuyu.

As he slowly came back, he noticed more details in his surroundings. The forgotten food on the table, the bowl of chips turned over on the floor; surprisingly, there was no mess, Uenoyama must have cleaned that up, and Kedama was in being held by his boyfriend; otherwise, he'd be all over Mafuyu.

"Uenoyama..." he whispered. He had no idea how much time had passed.

"Mafuyu... are you here with me?" he asked.

"Yes"

"Do you want to talk or do you want a distraction...."

"Please just hold me."

Uenoyama approached him and softly rearranged him into the position he was in before Uenoyama left to get the food. He tightened his arms around Mafuyu's waist as well and kissed the top of his head.

"Whatever you are thinking... you are wrong." He heard Uenoyama say.

"I forgot his laugh." With that, his boyfriend's breath hitched, "I'm sorry, you don't deserve this... having me shut down on you because of Yuki." Uenoyama just hugged him tighter.

"Hey, hey... it's okay. It's true I don't know what to do when you get that look on your face because of him, but I want to here with you."

"But-"

"I don't know what to do with these feelings Mafuyu, all I know is I want to make you happy, all of you, with the parts of you I can't understand.

"I don't want to forget him."

"I'm never going to ask that from you."

"But you deserve-"

"What about what I want? I want to be with you and to make sense of these feelings. I want to help you, even if I don't know how to. I want to be by your side."

"You don't understand. This is never going to stop! I'm going to start forgetting more of him, and I don't want to! I can't expect you to wait on me like that!" He felt tears spill from his eyes.

"I'm here because I want to, and I've wanted it long before I accepted your confession." Uenoyama refused to let go of him, and Mafuyu felt the sudden need to kiss him, and so he did. He looked up to his boyfriend and leaned in, giving him a soft kiss.

"... You make me feel happy, you make me feel loved, tell me why I wouldn't want to be with you." A blushing Uenoyama managed to get out, and Mafuyu felt warmness spread across his chest. He was happy he managed to give Uenoyama back the love that was so selflessly given to him and not just take it.

"Even if I never forget him?"

"I'm not expecting that."

"I love you." And he meant it, with all his insecurities and his baggage, he would allow himself to love Uenoyama and be loved by him, and he would choose to be with him and continue to do so every day.

Now it was time for Uenoyama to hide his face in Mafuyu's hair, "I- I love you too."

They stayed quiet for a few moments, letting time pass while they held each other tightly.

After a while, Mafuyu took the remote and turned on the TV, "Mmm, we are watching a romantic movie, huh?"

"Yes, Haruki said it was a good movie," Uenoyama said while still hiding his face, stealing a moment to kiss Mafuyu's temple one more time before getting up to get their food.

At that moment, Mafuyu knew, he might not remember the exact shape of the snowflakes that used to soothe his wounds and tend to the welts on his skin. Still, he would never forget the cold gentleness of snow on his burning flesh, not even as the warm sun rays graced his face, but it was time for him to welcome the tenderness of heat that didn't consume or burn.

It was time for winter to welcome summer.

#given fic #given #my fics #text #mafuyama #autistic mafuyu

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littlegrrl7 · 4 years

Photo

“A Devil’s Heaven”

Ikemen Sengoku- Nobunaga/OC

Excerpt chapter 35- Fluffy love confessions

---

“I want to try something softer on you tonight.”

Chiara lay blindfolded on a large blanket covering the tatami mats. His warm hands stroked over her back, lingering on the curve of her bottom, then continued down her thighs. She trusted him implicitly, he could ask anything of her, and she’d agree. Not that he needed to know that.

But he likely already did.

The cool tickle of something wet touched her skin ever so lightly, the feeling fleeting. She heard the soft ring of bamboo on porcelain.

“The inks and brushes you bought today—” She shifted slightly on her belly, getting more comfortable. The brush touched her again. This time it felt like light, quick strokes running in rapid succession from her shoulder to her lower ribs.

“Mmmm, yes, tonight you are my paper,” his voice murmured, closer to her ear. Chiara trembled, not realizing he had been so near. “My marks are still blooming on you from last night. You make a particularly attractive canvas to paint on.”

Chiara tried not to move as she felt the thicker soft brush tickle over her ribs. Then there was the soft chime again of bamboo on the bowl that he must have the ink in. Wispy strokes around her hip in a cluster, just over where she knew he lavished attention on last night. Was Nobunaga painting flowers on her skin? Just lines?

The small brush again, and he murmured words as the quick strokes brushed against her.

Poetry.

He was writing a poem. Chiara strained to listen but couldn’t quite catch all the words. A river flowing and bending?

“Are you writing a poem on me?” She turned toward him. Even blindfolded, she could see the shadow of him crouched beside her, the gleam of his chest, the slope of his bare shoulders. A broad sweep of fabric showed he still wore his hakama.

“Among other things, yes.” He hummed contentedly, the brush never pausing.

“How long will the ink stay?” She rested her chin back on her crossed arms.

“I hope until I see you again, but it should be well faded by then,” he commented, tracing long lines over her waist to her hip.

“That long?”

“Call it something for you to remember me by until we are together again.”

The brush tickled over her left buttock, and she clenched the muscle tight. Nobunaga paused, cupping, and rolling her other cheek in hypnotic warmth until she relaxed again. A smaller brush again, and he wrote something in a long curve.

“How will I be able to see this to read it?” A grin curled her lips, “or will you read it to me?”

“I suppose creative use of mirrors might work,” he teased, and the brush tickled down her thigh. Chiara laughed and jerked reflexively. His other hand came down firmly on her calf, pinning her in place as the brush continued. She giggled and squirmed.

“That tickles!”

“Perhaps it could be used as a new form of torture. Part your thighs for me, Chiara.” She heard the laughter in his tone as she moved her legs wider. Delicately he painted along the soft skin there, then leaning in, he placed a gentle kiss where the brush had yet to touch.

“I adore how you look, spread out like this for me, eager and willing. Your laughter wraps my soul in warmth and contentment. I’ll hold these moments with you in my thoughts until I have you in my arms again.” His brush continued its journey over her skin, encircling one ankle as he spoke.

She felt him lean back to admire his work. The bamboo handle chimed on the porcelain bowl again. She could hear the swish of liquid.

“Hold still a moment longer while the ink sets.”

“Are you done? Can I see it?” Obediently she stayed still, not wanting to smudge his work.

“Done? My sweet Captain, I still have the entire front of you to adorn.”

Softly Nobunaga touched a line of the dark ink. The mixture had been expertly made. It didn’t feather lines into her skin but stayed bold and black. He gazed down at his work, noting it was almost dry.

A waterfall surrounded by blooming flowers now flowed down her back. Nobunaga had confessed his love to her, the letters stretching from shoulder to hip in a litany of adoration. His fading bites from the previous night shaded the blooming flowers in an array of violet and blush. It was perfect. She was perfect. He affixed the vision of his beloved in his mind before untying the blindfold and gently helping her to sit.

Chiara blinked her bright blue eyes at him as she adjusted to the flickering candlelight. He loved watching her emotions chase across her features. She was easy to read, living life fiercely with her heart on her sleeve. He could only think of her as his now, and he could easily see on her face that she had claimed him as hers.

Nobunaga swept her fall of golden hair over her shoulder, placing a feather-light kiss on her lips.

“My radiant sun, I adore you.” He nodded to a cup and a small tray of sweets, “you may take a small break before I begin again.”

Nobunaga stood, stretching. He stepped behind Chiara to view her skin again. It was exquisite, every bit as perfect as he had imagined it would be.

“Are you going to let me see?” She sipped her water, nibbling on a red bean mochi.

“Alas, it seems the Takeda did not provide a mirror in this room. I shall go speak to them at once to rectify the situation and let them know my naked lover would like to admire her painted flesh. He stepped toward the door.

“Wait, no!”

Chiara turned the most adorable shade of pink.

“No? You don’t wish to see it?” A teasing light lit his eyes.

“I do, but—Let's keep this between us.”

He chuckled softly, pulling her back into his arms, “Are you ready to continue?”

Nobunaga sat her down before him. It was different this time, more intimate. Her eyes watched his every movement. He could see those pink lips glistening, the rise and fall of her breasts with every breath. It was challenging to keep the game up, to see it through its conclusion, when all he wanted to do was make love to her like he had last night. Sweet and tender, she had been so soft and accepting.

He blinked. Refocusing on his work, he dipped his brush into the ink. He painted kanji on her skin with quick soft strokes, murmuring endearments to Chiara as he went. They swirled and spiraled, following the lines of her curves, and the sweet swell of her breasts. In some places, he would only write a single word, in others an entire sonnet. Softly he blew on her flesh as he wrote, drying the ink to her skin. Flowers bloomed from each crescent mark he had graced her body with.

He was careful, oh so careful to ensure every line would be concealed by her clothing. This was a lover’s secret—something for only their eyes.

“Lie down for me, please,” his voice was soft, attention still focused on the art he created between the two of them. Chiara fanned her long hair out to the side as she reclined before him. Her eyes following his every move silently as if she etched this moment into her mind, something to keep her company in the long months alone.

He lifted the thick, soft brush, trailing it over the sensual dip of her hip to her stomach. Chiara bit her lip, but he heard the giggle she trapped, and it brought a smile to his face. Nobunaga brushed another flower over a crescent bruise on her hip, then placed a small kiss below it.

“Do I get to paint on you when you are done?” An impish gleam was in her eyes.

“No.”

Read more on A03 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048281/chapters/68713227

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen nobunaga #oda nobunaga #ao3 fanfic #softnobuisthebestnobu

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ellocentipede · 3 years

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Arcana Craves Peaches Reviews!

Peaches Crave Wild Summers

Scent description: An ode to sunshine, flip flops, and spontaneous, late summer road trips. Cold cherry popsicles, homemade peach marmalade, coconut scented sunscreen, Tahitian vanilla beans, soft, warm air, and a bit of sweetened jasmine.

I knew that I was going to love this one based on the description, and it did not disappoint! This is so, so delicious--it’s like eating homemade peach ice cream on a warm, humid beach (just like the ones here <3). The “warm air” note is truly magical. I’m one of the strange people that actually enjoys the humidity here on the Gulf Coast, and one of my favorite things about it is the smell. The jasmine is the creamy, sweet, demure type that smells more like an actual jasmine flower on the vine than a perfume note. It’s a soft one, and I think that it could win over those who typically don’t love white florals. The coconut is also soft and creamy, and I suspect that it’s responsible for what is giving me the ice cream vibe in this scent. I’m so thrilled with this beautiful new addition to the Craves line! It’s already a firm favorite of mine and will get a lot of wear. <3

Peaches Crave the Movies

Scent description: An ode to the bygone experience of watching movies in a 1990s era megaplex: the lights go down, the sound goes up, and you are transported into another world. Torn ticket stubs, peach gummy worms, cherry licorice whips, red velvet drapes, buttery popcorn, and smashed candy on the floor.

This scent was reviewed as part of the Daydream collection, but has been added here as well! I thought this scent was going to be overwhelmingly foodie, but I am pleasantly surprised to find it to be complex on my skin--it really is like the entire experience of sitting in the movie theater, snuggled up with your assortment of snacks, waiting for the film reel to flicker on. The peach gummies are most prominent on my skin and they smell true-to-life--sweet, tart, a little gummy/waxy. The buttery popcorn wafts in the background--you’ve handed the bucket to the cinephile to your right while you munch on gummy peach rings. Surrounding all of this is the supremely comforting, lightly fresh but also somehow velvety and luxurious scent of fabric and something mildly papery. These lend some atmosphere to the blend, and the effect is gorgeous. This scent is incredibly nostalgic and comforting for me, and makes me long to go to the movies.

Peaches Crave Dolci

Scent description: Peach gelato and pistachio gelato with 3 golden bakery cakes.

Peaches Crave Dolci is so very delicious, and makes my mouth water! It smells like cool, sweet peach and rich pistachio ice creams are layered in a fresh, warm waffle cone. It is definitely a gourmand blend, but the freshness of the peach and nuttiness of the pistachio keep this from being toothachingly sweet. The golden bakery cakes are warm from the oven and delicately sweetened with honey. This is one of my favorite gourmand blends of all time.

Peaches Crave Vanilla

Scent description: Sugared peach, glorious vanilla, marshmallows, sweet milk, and sheer musk.

Oh wow. Peaches Crave Vanilla smells just like warm, syrupy peaches on top of rich, homemade vanilla bean ice cream. Simple, yet beautiful and comforting.

Peaches Crave Beaches

Scent description: Green bamboo, coconut, vanilla musk, citron, lemongrass, bergamot, and dewy peach flesh.

A glorious burst of fresh, ripe, fuzzy peach + smooth coconut + a zip of zesty lemongrass. This is a beautiful, atypical tropical fragrance. The combination of the stalky, green bamboo and the lemongrass calls to mind images of beautiful Pacific beaches. This smells absolutely drinkable--a delicious peach, citrus, and coconut milk savored through a bamboo straw. warm, sunny, golden. drydown is fleshy, juicy peach with some zip and zest from the dry citrus.

Peaches Crave Forests

Scent description: Sweet woodsmoke, juniper, Douglas fir, cedar, wild peachwood, and a few drops of 10 year old patchouli.

Peaches Crave Forests is a crackling, smoking fire fueled by very fragrant woods. This would truthfully be the best smelling fire around. I get just a hint of fresh evergreen--as if there are patches of greenery left on the logs that the fire has not yet reached. There’s a bit of dampness as well, as if the wood’s a little wet and is producing billows of smoke as a result. This is by far one of the most interesting and lovely woodsmoke blends that I have come across.

Peaches Crave Chthon

Scent description: Smoked amber, black musk, terrestrial musk, oudh, rich spikenard, and subterranean peach.

Moody black musk and earthy spikenard dominate this blend when wet, but quickly some of the sharpness from the spikenard fades away and lets the slinky oudh peep through. Cool, juicy peach begins to shine through the other elements, and it smells almost overripe, which is likely from the oudh. This is masterfully blended. Goth peach, anyone?

Peaches Crave Mambo

Scent description: Cuban tobacco, dark vanilla, sweet rum, tonka, white musk, and sun-warmed peaches.

Ooh yum! This is a peachy vanilla-rum milkshake next to a fine, unlit cigar. Peaches on vacation! Peaches Crave Mambo is warm and sweet. If you love Julia’s lovely, rich, and sweet tobacco and rum notes, you will love this scent!

Peaches Crave Haint

Scent description: The gossamer sweetness of delicate white peaches with Arcana Wildcraft's Haint (white musk, vanilla musk, Madagascar vanilla, sugarcane, and a faint trail of white pepper).

Haint on its own is such a beautiful and ethereal scent, and Haint + peaches is a gorgeous combination. The tart, juicy, ripe peaches are a lovely complement to Haint’s diaphanous white and vanilla musks and nip of white pepper. Neither element overpowers the other and the resulting blend is truly beautiful. This is an elegant and innocent scent--it’s perhaps something that Daisy Fay may have worn while courting young Gatsby.

Peaches Crave Pirates

Scent description: Arcana Wildcraft's Queen Crossbones (creamy Egyptian musk, wild honey, sweet coconut, exotic resins) with plenty of peach and an extra shot of Egyptian musk.

Mmmm--warm honeyed peaches and coconuts in a golden cloud of musk! This is the scent of Queen Crossbones eating ripe, juicy peaches on the bow of her ship!

Arcana Craves perfumes may be found at https://arcanacraves.com/

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atths--twice · 4 years

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Well … here it is, the last chapter to this story. I can’t believe it’s come to the end already, but here we are.

This story, as I said at the beginning, was like a piece of me. It was begging to come out and be told. I’ve spent time in my own little world while I’ve written it. I’ve lived in the Unremarkable House with Mulder, traveled with Maggie to her destinations, and spent time at Scully’s apartment and smart house. I’ve had the chance to walk around their places and their lives and it has been an absolute pleasure. I feel like when I watch the episodes now or see clips and gifs of scenes, that something just before or just after happens as I imagined it, and that makes me happy. I know it’s what I personally imagined, but that doesn’t make it any less of a possibility now, does it? 😊

I hope you enjoy this last chapter and look forward to hearing what you all think.

Chapter Forty Five

Epilogue

Life carries on, things change, but love remains. It may be quiet for a while, biding it’s time, but when it’s ready, it can bring down the heavens.

April 2018

The spring air smelled of pine trees, flowers that were beginning to awaken, and the lake around him. Mulder stood on the back porch and looked at the view in front of him as he took a deep breath. The last time they were there it had been for Mrs. Scully’s funeral. That day had been excruciatingly painful, but the reason for the most recent visit was a happy one.

They deserved a happier memory to replace that sad one.

He turned around and looked at Scully through the window. She was in the kitchen, slicing up vegetables for their dinner. She smiled as she did, causing him to wonder if their baby was moving within her. Or perhaps she was thinking of the sex they had that morning. Either way, she was glowing. He shook his head at the realization that they were going to be parents.

Again. In their fifties.

Standing next to her a month ago as they went to her first OB appointment, he watched as the jelly stuff was placed on her stomach and the wand rolled across it. His heart remained in his throat as he watched Dr. Reynolds work the ultrasound. Noting his anxiety, Scully had reached for his hand and gripped it tightly.

When he heard the fast heartbeat whooshing through the small room, he pitched forward and fell to his knees, crying quietly as Scully caressed his hair and murmured to him. He cried for so many things, but mostly for the second chance they had been given. For each other, for Jackson, and for this new life they created.

As Scully got cleaned up and her clothes rearranged, Dr. Reynolds handed him a printout of their baby, and he thanked her as he tried to make sense of it. She laughed and showed him where the baby was and how to read the printout. He stared at it for the longest time, thinking of Scully going through this on her own last time. How she must have felt holding proof of a miracle in her hands. A miracle just like this one.

Scully’s hand on his arm broke his gaze from the paper. Looking up at her, she smiled at him, tears in her eyes as she too looked down at the sonogram photos. She squeezed his arm and took a deep breath.

“Mulder,” she said quietly and looked up at him again. He nodded, knowing what she was thinking.

“So small,” he breathed, touching the pictures. “A little bean.” Scully laughed softly and then sniffled as she nodded.

They left the doctors office and went to get something to eat. Scully was famished, but he could not stop looking at the photos. At the little bean that was created the night they came back to each other and began their journey home. He or she was the testament of patience, love, and faith. They had never given up and this was their reward.

“Mulder, are you going to look at those the entire time we’re eating?” Scully teased, smiling at him, her eyes so happy.

“I am,” he said, propping the photos up against the napkin holder and picking up his fork. She laughed and squeezed his hand before resuming her meal. He winked at her and shoved a huge bite in his mouth, making her laugh and shake her head.

Louise called a couple of weeks after the appointment, to see how Scully was doing. She called every so often, checking in and bringing news of her family, especially tales of Pip and the fun he had with Annie’s and also Marcus’s children.

“Dana, I don’t know if you’re busy working now or not, but I wanted to extend the use of the lake house to you anytime you would like to go,” Louise said, before saying goodbye. “It sits there empty a majority of the year, so I wanted to let you know you’re welcome to it.”

Scully hung up and looked at Mulder, telling him of the offer for the house. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a smile. She called Louise back and asked if they could use the house that weekend.

“Stay for a week,” she said happily and told them that the hidden key was located inside the small decorative frog in the garden. She was not sure of its precise location since they moved it each time, but she described what it looked like and Scully assured her that they would find it.

They packed up and headed out two days later, the windows down, letting the early spring air whip through the car. Mulder reached for her hand and she smiled, her other hand on her belly, lovingly stroking the small bump that was growing every day. He loved watching her close her eyes and sigh happily. Lifting their joined hands, he kissed the back of hers, and she hummed.

Stopping at the only store close to the lake, they bought groceries for the week and headed to the house. Upon arriving, they put the items away and then checked the place out. Scully had been there before, but not since she was a teenager. They found the master bedroom, and Mulder flopped down on the bed, patting the spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“No green face mask this time,” he said as Scully came toward the bed. Instead of laying down though, she straddled him, and his hands rested on her hips.

“If I had actually joined you that night, would it really have mattered?” she asked, rocking against him, making them both moan.

“If you had joined me like this, oh hell no,” he said, his fingers creeping under the hem of her shirt, digging into her flesh, causing her to hiss. “But really, if you had gotten onto the bed … I’m not sure how I would have reacted. Spontaneous human combustion does really happen, right?” His hands moved to her ass and she arched into him.

“It’s been documented. But wouldn’t it have been worth it to try?” she asked, wiggling her hips and then leaning down for a kiss.

“In case you forgot,” he said against her mouth, before kissing her again, his tongue stroking along hers. “I invited you to come to bed.”

“Mmmm, I know,” she said kissing his chin, cheeks, down his neck. “And it was an almost immediate regret when you left the room.” She murmured against his skin.

“Almost?” he shakily asked, her mouth and kiss making him feel dizzy with desire.

“Well yeah, I had to get that mask off before I could get off,” she breathed in his ear before biting the lobe. He yelped and arched up into her, his fingers gripping tightly.

“You … you … ” he sputtered, and she bit his earlobe again.

“Mmm, indeed I did. And I thought of you the whole time. How your hands would feel on me, how your lips would taste, your skin." She punctuated her words with kisses, making him pant and then groan. “I wanted you so badly and had to settle for my own fantasies.” Pushing on his chest, she sat more fully across his groin. She lifted her shirt off and threw it next to her.

Oh dear God, he thought as he saw her bra. Black lace with pink ribbon interwoven in it. Christ, she was going to be the death of him. She smirked at him, seeing his wide eyes, before taking his hands and placing them over her breasts.

“Mmmm, the reality is so much better than the fantasy,” she breathed before she was silenced by his kiss.

Clothes were scattered and hands and lips began to worship the flesh that was revealed. She showed him what she fantasized that night in that lonely bedroom in California. Astride him, their hands locked together above his head, she took what she wanted. Her cries of pleasure were heard not long after, the feeling and her own memories seeming to spur on her release.

“God, Mulder,” she panted, falling against his chest, her body convulsing around him. “That was … God … mmmmm.” She worked at catching her breath, his hands releasing hers and running up and down her slick back. She was exquisite and he planned to show her exactly how much he loved her.

She raised her head and smiled at him, the sated one he loved. But they were not finished and she knew it. “You good?” he asked and she hummed.

“I could be better,” she said, squeezing her internal muscles and he flipped them so quickly she yelped.

He pulled out and thrust back in, making her moan and grip his shoulders tightly, her nails then scratching down his back. He kissed her as he continued pounding into her, chasing his release and knowing this would bring her close to the edge again. His tongue swirled in her mouth as he pushed inside her and stopped.

He sucked her tongue and then bit her lip before looking at her as he began moving again. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. Looking into her eyes as he began to move again, while he did not vocalize them, the words were shared between them.

I love you.

You were my touchstone.

And you are mine.

I love you.

He crashed over the edge, spilling inside her and she tightened around him, crying out and holding him tightly. He fell onto her as he continued to empty into her. She hummed in pleasure and happiness, her feet running slowly along his ass and thighs.

Her hands moved to his hair, her fingers scratching at the back of his neck, running in his hair. Placing kisses on her neck, he tried to slow his breathing. “Better?” he murmured, kissing under her chin.

“Hmmmm. Better, much better,” she hummed and he laughed.

That night had seemed to open a floodgate. Since the doppelgänger case, they had been having sex more frequently, but that night and the past four days, had been like an awakening. They had sex in every room of the lake house, and every time was better than the last.

Shaking his head, he looked inside the house again and saw Scully was still preparing their dinner. Maybe he could persuade her to take a little break. No matter that she had dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth before he carefully lifted her against the shower wall just a couple of hours ago, he was feeling the need to be inside her again.

He walked into the house and she turned to him with a smile. “Should be ready in about thirty minutes,” she said, putting the chicken and vegetable meal into the oven. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing into her, letting her feel his desire.

“Again?” she asked with a smile, closing the oven door and setting the timer. “I would have thought the shower would have worn you out.” Turning around in his arms, he pushed them toward the counter, pinning her against it, before kissing her deeply.

Her hand moved down to palm him through the thin track pants he was wearing. She grasped and caressed him before sliding her hand inside and holding him firmly.

“God,” he moaned as he pushed into her hand, his head falling to her shoulder, craving her touch. She stroked him, her hand twisting as she knew he liked and he made an incoherent sound.

“Lift me onto the counter, Mulder,” she whispered. “God, you make me so horny. So wet.” He raised his head to look at her and her eyes flashed with desire. She squeezed him and he made the noise again. Laughing she took her hand out of his pants, his protests not taken into consideration.

She was wearing a blue silky robe with light silver flowers on it that she had found hanging on the back of a door. When she untied the belt, he discovered she was completely naked underneath. She stared at him with lust filled eyes, and he shook his head at her beauty.

Her breasts were perfect, her skin so soft and freckled in the most adorable spots. The swell of her belly with their growing child inside, made her even more beautiful to him. His hands splayed across the bump and then around to her hips to lift her onto the counter like she asked.

She was open to him and he needed to taste her. Pulling her forward to the edge of the counter, he opened her legs wider before bending and kissing her center, finding her wet, just as she had said she was. He sucked her clit into his mouth and she cried out, pushing his head to her pelvis. He slid two fingers into her and crooked them, as he continued licking and sucking at her.

“Mulder, God,” she cried out, her legs shaking and her toes digging into his shoulders. “Do that again. All of it.”

And he did, over and over, until she broke around him, his name repeatedly falling from her lips, her fingers wound tightly in his hair. He kissed her inner thighs, her belly, and up to breasts, sucking and licking her nipples.

He kissed her mouth, her right arm holding tight to his neck, her left hand trying to push his pants down. Laughing into her mouth, he helped her get his pants down enough to slide inside of her. Her legs wrapped around him and she nudged her heels into him, spurring him on.

Chuckling, he started moving. Her grip on his neck remained tight, her legs around him, and he knew she wanted it faster and harder. Happy to oblige, he pulled her closer to him and began to pump into her faster.

“Yes, Mulder,” she said, her breasts bouncing as he went faster. “God, you feel so good. Harder. Oh, yesssss.” Throwing her head back, her hand held onto his neck as he pounded into her hard. He moved his right hand and put his thumb on her clit, rubbing it as he began to reach his peak.

“Oh, Jesus,” she said, her nails scratching at his neck. “Don’t stop. Mmmmulder...” She cried as she came, arching back and held in place by his body pushing into hers and an arm around her waist.

A few more hard thrusts, her body shaking under him, he came hard and fast, staying deep inside her as he did. His fingers gripped her waist tightly and he moved his other hand to join its mate.

Her legs remained tight around him as he caught his breath. Lifting his head, he looked at her splayed out, her robe open and sliding off her shoulders. Goddess in the flesh, he thought. She raised her head and looked into his eyes.

“How do you do that?” she asked incredulously, a huge smile on her face. “Make me want you so badly? Only you, Mulder. Only you.” She sighed and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, his thumbs caressing her hip bones and giving her the chills.

Foreheads touching, he laughed and she smiled. “Only you, Scully. Only you,” he said quietly, and then a buzzing sound was heard. She laughed and pulled her head back, her eyes dancing.

“Dinner’s ready,” she laughed and he joined her before sliding from inside her and pulling up his pants. He turned off the timer and took the food from the oven. Turning back to her, he grinned at the sight of her- disheveled and happy, her robe still open.

He stepped toward her and helped her down, holding her tightly as she got her balance. “Be right back,” she said, kissing him and heading to the bathroom. He grinned at the sight of her and then saw about getting dinner on the table.

___________

Two days later, they were spending the last day walking around the lake hand-in-hand, skipping stones, and enjoying the atmosphere of the area. They came to the log they sat on after her mother’s funeral and for a second Scully faltered in her steps. He put a hand on the small of her back and waited until she was ready before they proceeded.

They sat on the log, neither saying anything, just listening to the quiet around them. Sitting for a few minutes, her head dropped to his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers.

“I said before that she had it all planned out, Mom, I mean. Not just the letters and all that, but us. She was there to help you, and she was in my corner over my decisions of the past. She listened, led, but didn’t push. That was her, even when we were little. She guided, but it was always our decision,” she lifted her head and looked at him, gesturing between them. “This was our decision, Mulder, but she absolutely was guiding us toward this path. She loved you so much, loved us together, I know it broke her heart when we weren’t.” She looked at him with sad eyes before she smiled. “She would be so happy to see us here, to know she had done what she set out to do.”

Mulder chuckled and reached for her hand. “I think you’re right. She was a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure. All you Scully women- stubborn and opinionated, but every one of you was exactly who I needed.” He looked at her and grinned, while she narrowed her eyes at him before smiling.

They fell silent again until he stood up, as the sun began to set. He reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

“I love you, Scully,” he whispered into her hair.

“I love you too, Mulder,” she answered. He let her go and took her hand, walking back toward the house. He had a surprise for her, and he was looking forward to giving it to her.

He told her to sit on one of the chairs by the water and to wait for him. She frowned but did as he asked, sitting in the chair and waiting. He walked into the house and went to fetch the items he found on one of his few solo trips to town. Grabbing them, a marker and the lighter, he went back outside.

“So, I saw these at the store and thought it might be a nice way to close out the week here, a place we know your mom liked to visit,” he said rejoining her at the chairs. She looked up expectantly and saw he was holding two floating paper lanterns. He sat down and handed her hers.

“Mulder,” she breathed. “This is wonderful. Thank you so much.” She looked at him and smiled.

“If you want to write something, I have a pen. Then we light them and let them float out to sea. Or lake, as it were,” he said with a smile. He handed her the pen and she held it, as if contemplating what to write.

“I think, I’d rather just think it as we let them go,” she told him, and he nodded, feeling the same way.

He put the small tea lights in that came with the lantern and then used the lighter to light them. When they began to glow, he helped her from her chair and they walked to the water's edge. He handed her her lantern and looked at her. Tears in her eyes, she closed them, and he did the same.

He thought of Mrs. Scully and all she had done, not just the past couple of years, but since he met her. She was always his champion, his protector, and he never deserved it from her. He was her daughter’s work partner and her friend, nothing more, but she had taken him in and cared for him.

Fox Mulder, that’s an outright lie and you know it. You were never just her partner and friend.

And of course I was your protector. That’s what family does, Fox. It shows up and keeps us safe.

He opened his eyes, practically hearing her voice speaking to him, and he smiled despite his tears. She would be right. She was exactly who she needed him to be, his protector, confidant, and friend. But more than that, she was his mother when his own had left this earth. He would try every day to be the person she saw in him.

“You ready?” Scully asked him quietly. He nodded and she smiled softly. They both took off their shoes and stepped into the water far enough to push their lanterns out to catch the small current.

They floated out slowly as Mulder put his arm around Scully. Her arms went around his waist, and they stood watching the lanterns float close to them and then drift further out. The candles inside them glowed brightly as they stood together, their feet in the water.

“Do … do you hear that, Mulder?” she asked, dropping her arms from his waist and looking around. “Tell me you hear that.”

“I don’t hear anything, Scully,” he said perplexedly, looking around with her, but hearing only silence. “Wait, does it sound like trumpets? Because I heard that before when we-“

“No, it’s not … it’s not trumpets,” she said slowly, stepping back and out of the water, still looking around. “It’s … music. A song. It’s … Beyond the Sea. That was my parents’ song. My mom told me years ago that … that it was playing when my father came back from the Cuban blockade. He walked off the boat, right up to her, and proposed as that song was playing and it became their song. Mulder, please tell me you can hear it?” She looked at him imploringly and he shook his head.

“Scully,” he said, stepping from the water and joining her. “I really don’t hear it. Maybe … maybe it’s meant for only you to hear.” He smiled at her with a tilt of his head and her eyes filled with tears as she nodded at him.

They put their shoes on and walked to the porch of the house. Turning around, they watched the now tiny lanterns sitting in the water, occasionally bumping away from each other, but then floating back and staying together. Mulder smiled as he watched them.

“Somewhere, beyond the sea,” Scully began to sing softly. “Somewhere waiting for me, my lover stands on golden sands, and watches the ships, that go sailing. We'll meet beyond the shore, we’ll kiss just as before, happy we'll be beyond the sea, and never again, I'll go sailing.” She put her arm around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing as they stood watching the lanterns get further and further away.

She squeezed his side and then looked up at him. “Let’s go to bed, Mulder,” she said with a happy smile that he answered with his own. They went inside, arms wrapped around each other, and closed the door, turning out the lights and heading to bed.

The two lanterns continued to shine on the water, while on the dock, a light seemed to appear that could not be explained. Inside it, unseen by anyone, Maggie and Bill danced and held each other, their invisible presence creating a peace.

“We can’t stay much longer, Maggie Girl,” Bill said in her ear, and Maggie nodded against his chest.

“I know. I just wanted to see them. With their eyes on the lanterns, I thought they wouldn’t notice our presence, but our girl continues to surprise me,” she said with a chuckle. Bill laughed with her as the music surrounding them reverberated through his laugh.

“That she does, Maggie. That she does,” Bill pulled back and looked at her. She stared in his eyes and nodded with a smile.

“They’re happy. They found their way back to each other, just where they were always meant to be. And a baby, Bill. A little girl. ” She smiled, shaking her head with tears in her eyes, as she took his hand, ready to go now that she had seen them. The light on the dock glowed brightly and then disappeared, leaving the night dark and quiet.

The lanterns in the water glowed brightly simultaneously once more and then extinguished. Crickets began to chirp, a frog croaked, and an owl hooted, the night peaceful.

Inside the lake house, Mulder and Scully lay entwined, flesh to flesh, each with a hand resting on the swell of life growing and changing inside of her. They sighed simultaneously, their fingers locking together before closing their eyes and sleeping.

Their dreams were peaceful, the darkness ceding to the light and restoring harmony in their lives. Their path was clear, the road smooth. Yes, there would still be times of struggle as this new journey began, but they were ready. It had taken four years to repair their broken hearts, and they were not going to let them break again.

They found their way back to one another, with the help of a guiding hand. One who loved them and championed for them. Who saw the love between them and directed them to the correct path. Behind them, gently pushing, guiding, and making sure there was no longer the rocky terrain of the past to stumble upon, the path clear.

True soulmates would always return to one another, and once rejoined, they could not be torn apart again.

Some souls just need a guiding hand to help the journey along, to be a marker in the road, and the light illuminating the path ...

It's far beyond a star It's near beyond the moon I know beyond a doubt My heart will lead me there soon

______________________________________________________

So, now we truly have reached the end. What a journey it has been. They were broken, possibly forever, but Maggie would hear none of that. She nurtured and guided until those two dummies could figure it out on their own. She loved them both so much, no chance would she give up on them. ❤️

Thank you all for reading this and taking this journey with me. I wrote it last year and it was a half a year of hardcore writing for me. Seeing everyone’s reactions every day has made me so happy. I love reading your comments, they just make me smile and they plant little seeds of loveliness in my thankfulness garden. I think of them throughout the day and I just smile.

And now, their story continues in the series Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series on Archive of Our Own, if you are interested in hopping over there. This story is a part of the series, the beginning as it were. You can read it there: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407691 but I am also going to begin posting them here as well. I hope you enjoy the continuation of their lives in real time- through the pregnancy and beyond.

Thank you all for reading.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Post MSIV #Life after the finale #A new life and a new journey to be taken #Back together and stronger than ever #God I love these two so much #This was such a pleasure to write

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golgafrincham · 4 years

Text

The Forest God Ch. 2

Ch. 1 They meet Ch. 2 They meet again Ch. 3 First date

After a morning of tears and stern reprimands familiar to a youngest child, Siv was given a bowl of hot porridge and a lengthy list of chores. It wasn’t until the next day that they were allowed to go and visit the wise woman, on the pretext of delivering some extra food and out of concern for her whereabouts the previous day.

She shook her head. “My child, you have been saved by a benevolent tree spirit. It’s not possible that the god of the forest appeared to you. Ancient gods such as that do not manifest...and not to the likes of us.”

“But...the wolf? His appearance?” Siv insisted.

“Forest spirits have illusion magic.” she turned back to her spinning “you may have dreamed it. Or the spirit may have enlisted the help of another spirit.”

Siv sighed in frustration, but knew it was no use (and disrespectful) to press any further. “Grandmother, you are older and wiser than I. But....if there is a forest god - where is His shrine? Even if the spirit who helped me is not Him, I promised I would...”

This time it was the elder’s turn to sigh. “The old gods were more demanding than the gods of the mountains and rivers” she explained patiently. “They required offerings and feast days, totems and altars. But not the gods of the earth. Their power came from the thing itself - the forest, the river, the mountain. They didn’t demand shrines or sacrifices from us. If such a thing exists, it was consecrated long before the old gods came to our land, and it’s existence is lost to memory.”

“Child, I am sorry. My teacher taught me how to placate the little forest spirits, the trees and rocks, the sacred herbs. If there was a god of the forest, or a shrine to Him, it was more ancient than her knowledge — and mine.”

Siv was beginning to despair. “But surely, Grandmother, if there are ways to find things that are lost, there must be a way to find something that was lost to memory.”

She didn’t respond, but continued with her spinning in silence.

When the spindle was full, she set it aside and picked up another. “You could try a little finding spell. But you would still need something from the owner of the thing...Without that, I don’t see how it would work.” she shook her head “I don’t really see how it would work at all.”

“And what else? Usually don’t you give a dreaming tea to the owner and they see where they left the thing they lost?”

“Mmmm.” she responded absently “If you include a piece of that which is lost, or a piece of the owner in the dreaming tea....and cast the charm on yourself...you may dream of it.”

Siv sat for a bit longer under the dark cloud that had formed as the wise woman spoke until there was nothing else to do but bid a respectful farewell.

Later that evening, after a sullen dinner, Siv was brushing off their boots and cloak before turning in. Amid the burrs and bits of grass and leaves, several long gray wolf hairs had woven themself into the brown wool. Frantically, they searched their cloak for more -- seven.

Siv then rummaged through the little baskets near the head of the bed where they put the herbs gathered in the forest. There it was - in a little leather pouch inside one of the baskets, a piece of mushroom used in dreaming tea. Gathering together all the ingredients, they quietly slipped back into the hearth room and put some water in the little kettle.

By the time the moon had risen past the tops of the trees, the charm and tea had done their work and Siv was fast asleep.

In their dream, the endless blue sky was all around them and the trees were below. They were a hawk flying away from home. They followed the river from the edge of the village until it forked west and tumbled down from the foothills of the little mountains. They circled above a sunny valley with three hills on three sides, on the fourth, the little creek that would become the river flowed south. In the middle of the valley was a clearing and in the center an oak with a trunk as large as a house. The oak’s green canopy seemed to hold up the billowing sky and at the same time, as its leafy branches waved slowly, beckoned down the rays of the sun.

In front of the oak was a large flat rock. The hawk landed, and Siv approached the stone on two human legs. It radiated warmth from being in the sun. They lay down on the rock and started to fall asleep. A cloud passed in front of the sun, but it wasn’t a cloud, it was a huge wolf. The wolf stood over the prone human - Siv could feel it’s hot breath on their neck. They screwed their eyes shut - though whether in anticipation of imminent pain or...something else...it was hard to know. When they opened their eyes again, it wasn’t the wolf, but the forest god towering above them. He bent down and placed a warm hand in the middle of Siv’s chest. The hand grew hot and the flesh and bone of their chest painlessly melted away like ice, allowing Him to reach in. After several breathless moments, pull out a stone, like fishing a rock out of a river. He held it up and said “this isn’t what I wanted.” then promptly disappeared. A strong wind blew through the branches of the oak, raising gooseflesh all over Siv’s suddenly naked body.

Siv awoke groggy and disoriented to their mother tossing back the quilt.

The rest of that day, and the following few days, Siv could only think of how to get there, of how they could explain a sudden winter journey to their parents, but most importantly, what offering they should leave at the shrine.

After much pleading, they eventually enlisted the aid of the wise woman, who provided the excuse for the journey even though she couldn’t provide any help with the offerings.

The day before mid-winter, Siv packed everything they could possibly need in a large bundle - food and water, flint and tinder, and gifts for the fire. They set off with the wise woman to allay their parents’ fears, but parted ways at the river fork.

The next day, as the setting sun was beginning to paint the bottom of the clouds red and purple, they finally arrived in the clearing. Unlike the dream vision of a summer clearing with green grasses waving in the breeze, the flat boulder that served as the altar was surrounded by patches of snow and bare ground. It faced an oak at the center of the clearing which looked as ancient as the rocks of the shrine - its massive trunk supported gnarled limbs that twisted into the sky. Unlike the tree in their dream, this one seemed only half-alive, with bare branches twining among the brown leaves and a huge cleft where one of the largest branches had fallen off long ago.

Siv quickly cleared a space to camp for the night and made the first of the small fires that they planned to surround the rock. All night long they tended the fires, going from one to the other to add fuel, alternating between staring into the jumping flames and gazing up at the stars above them.

As the dawn approached, they kindled one last small fire on the large stone and tossed the gifts they had brought into the crackling flames.

The smoke became a gray veil hanging in the cold morning air. Through it, Siv thought they saw movement near the great oak.

The next moment, the forest god stood in front of them, silhouetted by pink and orange dawn clouds.

“You came a long way.” He said in a low voice, crossing His arms over His chest.

“I promised that I would find your shrine, and light the fires at the changing of the seasons.”

“You did.” He paused and looked down at the dying fire “You brought presents. Mistletoe and yew - a straw ram?”

Siv nodded. “I...wasn’t sure what was appropriate. Even the wise woman didn’t know.”

“No human has visited here for generations. Your people hadn’t even come to this land when the forest shrine last saw offerings.”

“...?”

“Didn’t you know, your people were not the first here?” He shook His head. “Hm, it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten there were those who came before. That’s a long time indeed.” “Though humans seem rather forgetful of their own misdeeds.”

“Do you know what they used to leave for me?” Siv shook their head. “No?” “At mid-summer they would leave a roe deer smeared in honey, covered with pollen from the flowers in the field.” “At mid-winter...last night...they would leave a buck, the largest in the forest, smeared with a bit of blood of their clan’s warrior-king. Unless their harvest had been bad. In which case...they would leave their king, covered in the blood of a buck.” “Do you understand?”

Siv’s face blanched and their heart raced as the tips of their fingers began to lose feeling.

“You are not of those people.” He said gently. “You had other gods. Why have you come all the way here?”

Siv’s dry lips trembled as they licked them. “I...promised.”

“Promises are autumn reeds. I have little power outside the forest - I am not your god of thunder and rain or your goddess of the harvest moon. Why did you bother?”

The sun was just beginning to peek over the top of the oak. The first golden rays caught the edges of His antlers, and even though the sun was behind Him, His face was still illuminated with a soft light.

Why? The question seemed absurd to Siv. “You...are a god.”

“I’m...nothing - even among humans I’m no one. The last child of a family with no surname. You are the god of the forest. The trees, the sacred groves, the birds and beasts of the forest all are governed by you...” Siv struggled to find the words to describe what they felt (he’s just so pretty). Everything around the forest god seemed touched by warm sunlight even when it wasn’t. Even trying to look up into His eyes filled Siv with a mixture of dread...and joy. Their voice dropped so low it was barely audible.

“You are the most beautiful...and terrifying….thing I have ever seen. How could I not?”

The forest god lowered his eyelashes and seemed to smile slightly. If the light had been stronger it might almost have been possible to see a wash of pink on His cheeks. “I understand now why your gods enjoyed interfering in human affairs. How easy it would be to get used to all that…” He moved back a pace and waved away Siv’s awestruck praise with one hand “worship.”

“Speaking of which...did you bring anything else?”

“...” Realizing the god had asked them for something, Siv’s eyes grew wide. “Lord, I am sorry my gifts were so poor - I..didn’t? Bring...anything….I….no?”

“Nothing? Nothing to eat?”

The bag they had brought was on the ground near the altar rock. Siv grabbed at it and began rifling through. “Yes...I have...ah...some bread” they placed it on the rock “and a meat pie…”

“It’s time to eat, don’t you think? Maybe we could share this pie?”

“Lord, it is yours” they held it out to Him.

“No, no, I mean share.” The forest god took the pie and broke it in half, keeping the large half for Himself since he was larger. He sat down on the rock and handed the small half back.

“I am not fond of fire, but it is chilly this morning. You should think of feeding your fire, too.” He suggested helpfully.

Siv nodded numbly and went to fetch some sticks from the small pile they had assembled the previous day. Just as they arranged them on the dying fire the god turned around and, pursing His lips, blew a puff of air which immediately brought the fire back to life.

“This is tasty.” He complimented between bites - it took two. He reached over and broke the bread in half as well, and handed the small half to Siv.

“...” Siv was mesmerized watching the forest god eat - His adam’s apple was as big as their fist. It bobbed up and down with His final swallow.

The god peered over Siv’s shoulder towards his bag. “Ah...anything else in there you would share?”

“I had a turnip roasting in the embers but…”

He looked over to the nearest little fire that Siv had put out just before dawn and casually started rummaging His fingers through the orange-tinged embers. After a few seconds His hand emerged with a smoking, blackened lump. He blew on it and dusted off the charred skin before popping it in His mouth whole.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment then declared “The meat pie is much better. Your other gifts were fine, but from now on I would prefer meat pies.”

“You, ah, you don’t have anything to drink?”

While they reached for the skin of small ale they’d brought the god continued “Many many years ago I had some honey wine that was left as an offering...it was very nice.” He gave the flustered human an encouraging look.

“I...have ale?” they offered. The god shook his head.

Then they remembered. “I...have one more thing.” They looked down at the ground embarrassed. It’s so pathetic. Why didn’t I bring a sack full of pies?

“...?”

“It’s just a...I noticed that your garland had withered…” they shifted to the flat altar stone. Along one edge Siv had laid out a garland woven of thin pine branches, ivy, and braided straw interspersed with small sprigs of mistletoe. They couldn’t bear to look at the god to see what His reaction was - disappointment? Pity? Anger?

It was none of those.

He moved closer to the self-conscious human and, bending his head, snagged the old garland strung between his antlers with one finger and tossed it into the fire.

Siv looked up with surprise as the god spoke to their inner ear…

Please accept…..

They scrambled to pick up the evergreen garland and drape it across the lowered antlers. “Please accept this humble gift. May the sun return again and again to shine on the forest. Like the pine and ivy are evergreen may the forest grow and thrive, may the god of the forest live forever.”

The ancient forest god’s eyes misted over. Such words. He hadn’t heard such words in thousands of years, if at all. This frail mortal wasn’t afraid, they weren’t asking for anything, they weren’t demanding a favor in return for their gift. Their voice was soft, but also sweet and sincere.

This is how your gods became vain and arrogant - always filling their ears with honey. He thought to himself, but what He really meant was thank you.

He raised Himself to His full height and gave a very slight shake of His head to see the movement of the garland out of the corner of His eye.

“Put out the fires and gather your things.”

#long post #2610 words #my crap #writing #forest god #the only good thing about the illustration is i think i got His expression right

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sunflower-swan · 4 years

Text

Wolfstar Chapter 18

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus Covid-19.

This is chapter 18 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 18 Prompt: Myths

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1115

Tags: fluff, date night, dessert

Chapter 18

Sirius

Goo Goo Dolls, “Iris”

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

Remus’ face flushed.

It was true, what Sirius had said. Everything Remus had done and been through, made him the incredible man who sat before him. And Sirius wouldn’t want him any other way.

“I recall a mention of strawberry shortcake,” Sirius said.

Remus chuckled and looked down at their now empty dinner plates. “Yes, there is still strawberry shortcake.” He looked back up at Sirius and gave him a half-smile. “What if I make some tea, and we have dessert in the living room? I have some Chocolate Hazelnut Decaf Black Tea I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

“Sounds good.” Sirius gave Remus’ hand a small squeeze before standing up. He collected both of their plates, “I’ll take care of these while you take care of the tea,” and walked over to the sink.

“You know,” Remus said, still sitting at the table, eyebrows raised. “You are my guest. You don’t have to help clean up.”

“I know. But I’m going to anyway.” Sirius shrugged. Consider it repayment for all the times you took care of me the last couple months. Instead he said, “All things considered, it’s the least I can do.”

“Ok.” Remus laughed. “I’m not going to argue with someone who volunteers to wash my dishes.”

He patted Sirius on the back. It was a brief moment, but Sirius could feel the warmth of Remus' hand through his worn Pink Floyd shirt long after the hand was gone.

Sirius hummed quietly as they finished their tasks. Whatever popped into his head in the moment: Def Leppard, Montley Crue, Poison, Joan Jett...the classics. The kettle whistled at the same moment he finished cleaning the last dish, and they retreated to the living room to enjoy the tea and strawberry shortcake.

“Did you know strawberries are one of my favorite foods?” Sirius asked. He sat in the middle of the couch, and stretched his left leg out and propped his heel on the coffee table.

Remus sat to his right, with his back to the armrest. He tucked his left leg under his right. “I have to admit, Lily might have mentioned it while she was convincing me to invite you over tonight. Luckily for you, this entire meal accounts for about half of what I am capable of cooking decently.”

Sirius snickered. Of course Lily had a hand in this. She was entirely too clever for her own good. Not that he was complaining. He put a big bite in his mouth.

“Mmmm...this is really good, Remus.” The shortcake was firm on the outside, yet soft and melty on the inside. And the strawberries...well, it’s hard to go wrong with those.

“Thanks.”

“So,” Sirius leaned back and turned a little toward Remus, “here’s something I’ve always wondered, but never had anyone to ask. If a person can only become a werewolf by being bitten by another werewolf, then where did the first werewolf come from?”

Remus nearly choked on the bite of shortcake in his mouth. He coughed and washed down the offending bite with his tea.

“Sorry,” Sirius said. Merlin, Sirius. Really? What the hell, man? “I didn’t mean...it’s just…” That all sounded a lot better in his head, now he heard it come out of his mouth. “Shit.”

He didn’t mean to sound like an insensitive prick. Being this close to Remus did something to him that was more than nerves. His body was still humming from holding Remus’ hand at the end of dinner. Now, sitting next to him on the couch, it was as if every atom in his body was vibrating. Apparently a side effect of this was blurting out whatever was floating around in his brain. Sirius took a deep breath, and set his partially eaten desert on the coffee table.

“Remus, I’m sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair and twisted to face Remus. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. I’m just...trying to understand.” He gently placed his hand on Remus’ knee. The same warm humming sensation began in his hand again.

“It’s ok. I get it.”

For a moment it appeared Remus would almost put his hand over Sirius’, but at the last second, settled it on his leg right next to and almost touching.

“I have actually done some research on the topic,” Remus said. He stood and walked to the bookshelf. “I was a little worried you might pick out one of these and ask about it before.”

He scanned the stacks with his finger before pulling one out. The tome had a worn leather cover, and no title. He brought it back to the couch. When he sat back down, he was closer than before. Sirius’ flesh tingled warmly where their legs contacted.

Remus opened the book on his lap and leaned over it. Sirius leaned over to get a look, too. He placed his hand on the small of Remus’ back, and traced slow, lazy circles there.

“This is an old book on Greek mythology. So, this,” he pointed at a picture of a regal looking man, “was King Lycaon. Lycaon was a prideful king.” He turned the page. “One day he tried to trick Zeus into eating the remains of a sacrificed boy. Zeus did not fall for it, and became angry. As punishment, he cursed Lycaon and his sons into wolves.”

Sirius rested his head in his hand, his elbow propped on his knee. He had sat in silence, enthralled by the tale.

“Wow,” he said, and angled his head to look at Remus.

The lamps in the room cast his face in a warm glow. For the first time, Sirius noticed faint scars across the bridge of his nose. Remus also had a light speckling of freckles across his cheeks. Why had he never noticed before? Sirius swallowed.

“So, Lycaon was the first werewolf?”

Remus closed the book. “Probably not. It’s only a Greek myth. But it makes for a good story.” He smiled at Sirius.

Sirius felt his breath steal away.

“Does it --” Remus picked at the cover of the book with his thumbnail, “-- does it really not bother you...that I’m a werewolf?”

“It really doesn’t,” Sirius whispered.

“What about --” Remus took a deep breath. “-- the age difference. I mean --” He looked at Sirius with a raised eyebrow. “-- I’m a lot older than you. Wouldn’t you rather date someone...more your age.”

“Remus, I’ve dated people my age. None of them made me feel the way I do when I’m with you.” The flame that had been growing slowly in his chest since the day of the bunny tattoo suddenly burst into a wildfire.

Next Chapter: Chapter 19

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x lupin #harry potter mauraders #slow burn #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic

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