#of like 'oh no i have to take ALL THE ADVICE but it is IMPOSSIBLE' like yeah no it is LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE
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onlyasimp4nobody · 3 days ago
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#I'm sorry I'm behind on asks I feel like it never fucking ends#can't talk to family about it. they worry too much. cant talk to friends about it. they just start giving unwarranted (well meaning) advice#and plus they basically live with me atp with how often they're over helping me fuck do I do?? bother them more??#dude it's embaressing even if it's not chronic shit it's just unlucky shit like how u gonna have an allergic reaction & then seizure same d#idk about therapy therapists scare me. it's not a therapy issue though I'm just tired and in pain all the fucking time#one more person says “same omg” or “well have you tried-” i will start cutting peoples throat and eating their livers#you do NOT know what it's like having to write your own will before 30 like this shit aint right shit aint fair#makes me petty and shit too people who are healthy like can you just fucking suffer why do you get that freedom but not me#it just never ends#like I really fucking hate it when people say “oh you have so much to live for” because no I don't#Not so sound like a right winger gosh dang god fearer but like deadass people focus so heavily on “mental health!!” they don't#realize even if you feel better and get therapy or shit that's not gonna be realistically helpful for anything physical going on in sm#it's a cycle even if you manage 1 thing - the medications cause a 2nd thing#and that's alongside all the OTHER things you take medications for which cause all those other things#it's like multiplying and makes your body slowly deplete but like never quite die. like I know realistically I can just die anyday#and yeah it is getting worse but it's no different because it's not about that#when you're sick it's not just “OMG DYING!!!” it's like. everything else in your life dies.#you can't cook for yourself. you can't clean. you can't move. you can't hang out with people anymore. you can barely work LMFAO.#I'm REALLY close to quitting it's not even funny lmao. cant put clothes on without struggling.#do people not know it's. physically impossible. to even eat sometimes. just vomit it all up or seize.#yeah it does make me petty#rant
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adore-gregor · 8 months ago
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study smart not hard (altough both is best actually) this saying is so true
#my advice#but this saying is sooo true#i know some people at uni who study for exam so long and hard but then fail or just barely make it :(#like what are you doing? i don't mean this in a mean way but it doesn't have to be this difficult#i don't understand how some people can study for an exam for 2 weeks or even a month and still fail and i don't think they're stupid#or i don't see myself as particulary smart#but i guess they just waste their time a lot and i realized studying effective is so important#now everyone is a bit different and has to find what works best for them but there are certain techniques which are proven to work well#there is so much information on the internet on this look it up seriously#it made my life sm easier i never struggled in uni like i did in school and i get good grades#and if i ever struggled a bit it was because i started so late it was almost impossible to pass 😂#which is why to do both is still best 😂#but i actually always made it and i never failed an exam at uni (which i studied for)#(two i was fooled into to just try without studying bc it's easy lol)#i mean i shouldn't speak too soon but i already made it through some of the most difficult of my studies#ofc it depends on what you study how well this works but i'm speaking for myself#i once passed an exam with a B studying only 2 days as one of the best students while others studied 2 weeks#and got worse grades or failed#still studying only 2 days is stupidity don't do it 😅#so the techniques i find very helpful are ofc exam questions probably the best one#if there are none make your own#then blurting for which there are different ways but i like to just go over a topic and then write down everything i remember#then fill the gaps#quizlet is also great it's an app which allows you to create cards and then tests you in creative ways#videos can be helpful as well for summaries and using summaries in general is normally enough it saves you sm time#normally you don't actually need to know everything but you should be careful it's not a bad summary leaving out too much 😅#and i also like mindmaps bc i'm a very visual person#but all those tipps are mostly for remembering information so it doesn't work so well for other fields of study#well i hope this is somewhat helpful idk 🙈#oh and reading texts over and over again is the most useless in my opinion i don't remember much at all and it takes sm time
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hangingslothcentral · 10 months ago
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whenever i start a new project, i find myself going on a little journey across the internet looking for advice on starting new projects. i know how to do it, but i'm always curious about other people's ideas. most of the stuff i read is aimed at new creators who don't know how to get things off the ground at all.
one thing that strikes me about it is that there isn't really any consensus about how to start something, and i think that's really great! there's a million ways to approach a problem, and (short of solutions which harm or exploit others) none of them are wrong if they're the one that's working best for you.
still, a significant number of the articles i read position themselves as having The Answer for how to make a thing. i think a lot of people sorta feel they have to frame their advice like this in order to give the impression that they know what they're talking about.
sometimes as i'm reading i get gripped with a sense of panic about it, a feeling of 'oh no i'm doing things WRONG', or concern that two ideas about new approaches which I've found would be interesting to try cannot be applied at the same time to the same project.
but! advice between one article and the next isn't necessarily going to carry over or map on perfectly. many pieces of advice about starting projects is going to be contradictory based on your sources. it makes me wonder how many people get caught in a loop of trying to take ALL the advice, even when it would be impossible to do so.
sometimes ripping out your whole process and starting from the ground up is the best thing you can do, creatively, but in many circumstances, taking the pieces of advice which will most meaningfully help you redirect your existing skills whilst leaving behind the things that don't serve you? that's also a valid and worthwhile thing to do!
drawing on the knowledge and experience of others is an important practice whatever stage you're at in your life as a creator of things. learning new methods and techniques can help you develop your own practice and sharing knowledge is incredibly important. just remember that there are many ways to solve the same problem, and part of what makes your creations unique are your approaches as an individual. it is impossible to take all of the advice! do continue to seek it out, and also know that you're not disrespecting it by deciding it's not something which will help.
above all, keep creating stuff!
--- Eira xxx
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loudstan · 1 month ago
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You promised
Summary: Jisung unlocked a new fear: you leaving him.
Pairing: Werewolf Jisung X noona female reader
Warnings: smut, insecurities, jealousy, mentions of baby traping, switch Jisung, handcuffs, some angst (you know me)
Note: the first scene takes place during Chenle’s story, so if you haven’t read that one it may be confusing, but you don’t need it. And to my followers: thanks for waiting! This is just a short scenario to get back into writing and grammar/spelling wasn’t checked but oh what the hell, enjoy!
“A WHAT?!”
Jisung's usually deep and quiet voice turned into an uncharacteristic squeal as a response to what his best friend had just confessed. Any other day he would have immediately apologized to the other customers, who jumped and turned around, surprised at his sudden yell, but he was so scandalized that all he cared about right now was for Chenle to tell him he had misheard him.
“A memory loss spell…,” Chenle repeated, his eyes looking empty as he took another sip of beer.
“WHA–,” Jisung caught himself before he could scare everyone in the pub again and proceeded by lowering his voice. “But you two are mated!”
Chenle nodded slowly. “And we are so bad at it that our pack leader himself told us we were better off never seeing each other again. Forgetting the other ever exists.”
Jisung opened and closed his mouth dumbly before trying to come up with an alternative solution. “You guys j-just need some time and–”
“We've been together for months, Jisung. She…,” Chenle sighed and entangled his fingers in his hair with frustration. “She hates me…”
There was a moment of agonizing silence until Jisung's own eyes became watery when he heard a quiet sob coming from Chenle.
“But…” the younger one insisted. “It was so hard for you two to get together…you c-can't just forget everything…”
“Maybe it was hard because we weren't meant to be together,” Chenle said bitterly, still hiding his face behind his palms, like this would keep the other from finding out tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I literally forced her to stay with me and it still didn't work.”
Jisung’s hand hesitantly reached for one of Chenle's to uncover his face and meet his reddened, swollen eyes. “There has to be another way, Chenle.”
Chenle forced a weak smile. “Yeah? What would you do if your mate hated you so much she wanted to forget you and leave you behind?”
Jisung froze. His brain couldn't even phantom the idea of his mate leaving him. He had assumed once a wolf had bitten his partner they were bonded together forever. He had had a really hard time making you understand that he was serious about you and accepting him as a mate. But now he was finding out that not even the mark on your neck could secure you by his side.
“Why? Did she say something to you?” Jisung finally asked, tightening his grasp on Chenle’s wrist.
“No, why would your mate tell me–?” It was Chenle's turn to be confused. “She and I barely interact unless you're around. You know that.”
“Then why would you say that?” The younger wolf insisted, not letting go of the other.
“I was just asking what you would do if she wanted to leave–”
“She won't,” Jisung stated. “She fucking won't.”
“I'm not saying she will!” Chenle insisted, with a frustrated groan and forcing Jisung's fingers to let go of him. “I'm asking for advice! What would you do in this kind of situation?”
Jisung sat back and exhaled shakily, trying to get a grip. Right, you weren't actually leaving him. It was all hypothetical, because you would never ever do that to him. It was impossible, considering the way you looked at him with so much attention and adoration that he often forgot what he wanted to say and blushed like an idiot. Or the way you played with his hair when you cuddled. Or the way you stuttered whenever you paid close attention to his hands. Or the way your body arched when he touched you…
No, he was sure you would never do that to him. But if he ever found out you had such thoughts he would–
“Take her far away,” he murmured, still lost in his thoughts, and not even aware he was saying it out loud. “Somewhere no one else could find us. Just the two of us. And keep her there for as long as I have until she changes her mind. Make sure she needs me the way I need her. Baby trap her if I have to–”
“You're terrified of children,” Chenle pointed out, taking Jisung out of his trance.
JIsung blinked quickly and looked at Chenle with wide eyes. “Huh?”
“Being a dad scares you,” Chenle reminded him, arching his eyebrows inquisitively. “Yet you said you would… baby trap your mate?”
“B-baby–,” Jisung stuttered, blushing. “I didn't…I– did I?”
Chenle squinted at him, momentaneously forgetting about his own problem because something was clearly wrong with Jisung as well. “Are you having your rut anytime soon?”
“Yeah, I–this weekend probably, uh…yeah…”
“That's why you're saying weird things…” Chenle sighed. “You have the most possessive instinct I've ever seen in a werewolf.”
Jisung laughed awkwardly.
Chenle analyzed the younger man as he fidgeted on his chair. For a while now, he had been wondering if they were losing Jisung to his animal side because sometimes he did and said things that his introvert best friend would never.
Should he alert the others? Just in case?
His thoughts were interrupted by Jisung spilling beer all over his clothes and clumsily trying to clean up after himself. Chenle snorted and grabbed some tissues to help him.
What was he even thinking?
Jisung wasn't dangerous.
So Chenle pushed those thoughts away to focus on his own problems with his partner.
Jisung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about that stupid hypothetical scenario. He kept telling himself that things were fine, that you had shown no sign of wanting to end things and that he had nothing to worry about.
Until the moment his rut was due.
You both had planned to spend it together in your apartment, because he was too shy to do it at his place, with the rest of the pack around. He showed up with a backpack with clothes and some essentials, trembling hands, and a light blush on his cheeks. The implications of what he was here to do made him feel dirty, but at the same time he had been anticipating this all week. His rut hadn’t started yet, but he was already feeling a little feverish and weak, so you made sure to take good care of him by drying his hair after a shower, feeding him something light, and cuddling him to sleep.
You caressed his face gently as he inhaled and exhaled peacefully. He was adorable. It was hard to believe he had presented as an alpha.
You pressed your thighs together at the memories flooding your head. You were feeling a bit needy since the moment he had shown up at your door, but you knew it was better to let him rest during pre-rut, so you pulled away and got up, walking out of the room quietly.
Grabbing your phone and your wallet, you decided to go to a store nearby before it was too late, so you could buy some extra snacks. Last time Jisung had devoured everything he could find in your kitchen once he wasn’t feeling horny anymore, so it was better to be prepared. But as soon as you opened the front door, it was slammed closed by Jisung, who was towering over you from behind.
“Where are you going?” his raspy deep voice asked, panting next to your ear.
“I–,” You tried to turn around to face him but he growled, so you stayed still. “I was g-gonna buy us some snacks–”
“We have plenty,” he said curtly. “You checked earlier.”
“We could get some more, you know, just in case?”
“In case of what?”
“In case you need more food? You’re a big boy and–”
“Man.”
Right, he hated you calling him that. “You’re a grown man,” you rephrased, stressing the word that seemed to be so important to him. “And you may get hungry.”
“Hungry?” he echoed, taking a step back to give you some space to turn around and look into your eyes. He didn’t seem to fully believe you.
“Yes. So don’t worry about it, and go back to bed, okay?” you said, pushing him lightly to guide him back to the bedroom.
But suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the room with him, locking the door behind him and leaning on it as if he was guarding it.
“You can’t,” he said, barely audibly.
“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.
“You can’t leave me,” he clarified, speaking up slightly. “You s-said– you said you would spend my rut with me.”
“I–, it’s just the store…”
Lies.
“Lies,” Jisung repeated what the voice in his head told him.
“Wha– why would I lie about that?” you asked, cupping his face.
“You can’t forget me,” he pleaded.
“Forget you?”
“You regret this,” he rambles incoherently. “You regret us.”
“No!” you quickly reassured him, pressing your palm more firmly against his fevered cheeks. “Of course not! I love you.”
His gaze softened and he nosed your palm. “Promise?”
“I promise,” you whispered.
Jisung fought the voice in his head telling him that you’re deceiving him. That you’re waiting for him to lower his guard to sneak out and disappear forever.
With a pained groan he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you urgently, hoping this would shut his wolf up. And it worked, for a moment, because he was very distracted by your tiny gasp and your fingertips grazing his nape.
But it came back quickly. As he walked you back to the bed and pushed you gently on it, his wolf insisted.
She’s playing dumb.
Jisung glared at you, but he didn’t see any malice in your flustered, confused, pretty face. He shook his head, as a way to tell his wolf that he was being stupid and got on top of you occupying himself by placing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.
You’re a poor excuse of an alpha.
He growled, giving you goosebumps and wondering what had him so worked up.
You think she’ll stay with you, when you’ve barely presented?
She doesn’t actually see you as a man. You have to remind her all the time.
He sucked on your neck and dug his fingers into your waist.
“Jisungie…”
She’s leaving as soon as she finds out about the memory spell.
“Fuck,” he growled, and his fingertips were pressed a little bit too hard on your soft skin.
“Ji, hold on–” you winced, grabbing his hands and trying to soften his grip.
If you don’t do something, she’ll disappear.
“FUCK! I KNOW!” he exclaimed, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head, catching you by surprise.
You look up at him with wide eyes, wondering what you have done to upset him. His furious expression switches to a remorseful one.
“I–uh…I wasn’t yelling at you, noona…”
“...Then who?” you barely whispered.
“Me…I mean, not me, but…that side of me,” he mumbled.
You gulp and try to free your hands, but his grip tightens. “What is that side of you saying?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, it’s dumb,” he said quickly.
“It’s not dumb if it makes you react like this,” you insist.
He keeps quiet, biting his lip. “Just…don’t go, kay?” he finally says.
You nod. “If we need more food I’ll just order some.”
“No, I don’t mean–,” he sighed. “Not just the store. I mean…in general.”
“Ji, I’m your girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes. “And I literally have your mark on my neck. Where would I go?”
“What if there was a way to leave me, even after being marked?”
“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious, but he mistook your curiosity for eagerness.
“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asked with an accusatory tone.
“Oh my god, Jisung,” you laughed incredulously. “You are the one who brought it up! I just asked a question!”
“Don’t laugh at me, noona,” he warned you, but his voice broke.
At that moment you understood that his pre-rut was probably messing with his head and that he really thought you wanted to leave him.
“How can I prove it to you?” you asked him seriously. “What can I do?”
He licked his lips and his reddened eyes traveled from your face to your captive hands. “I don’t know if it would prove anything, but… it would make me feel…better.”
“Anything,” you encouraged him. “Just tell me what it is.”
“Okay, uh…I’m gonna– c-can you close your eyes?” he asked nervously. “And don’t move,” he added when he freed your hands.
You nodded and closed your eyes, trying to comply with his simple requests, knowing that he was in a very vulnerable state and needed as much reassurance as possible. You felt his presence gone when he got up, his hurried steps, the zipper of his backpack, and what sounded like him looking for something. Then, he hurried back, and you felt the warmth emanating from his body on top of yours, while something tickled your wrists and then, a sudden click sound made you snap your eyes open.
“Jisung?” you opened your eyes to see his hungry gaze fixated on your wrists, which you couldn’t move. You looked up to see both of your hands handcuffed to the bed frame, with a pink fluffy pair of cuffs adorning your wrists like bracelets. “Ji, what–”
“Haechan hyung gave these to me,” he said, sitting back to appreciate the view. “I know he was just trying to mess with me when he packed them in my bag, but…they ended up being useful…”
You laughed nervously. You had never had your movements restricted in this type of context, and Jisung being the one to do it was unexpected. “Ji, there’s no need for this. I told you I won’t go anywhere.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, touching the cuffs and grazing your forearm delicately. “Now you won’t.”
“Then how am I going to touch you?” you pouted, trying to reason with him.
He halted and frowned. He hadn’t considered that. He really liked you touching him, but was it safe to uncuff you now?
Absolutely not.
“Later,” he declared.
“Later when?”
He bit his lip. For him, later meant when your legs were trembling so much you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. “Later,” he repeated.
“Can I at least get a kiss, then?” you asked.
“...You want that?”
“Do I want to kiss my handsome boyfriend? Duh, of course, Ji!”
A timid smile formed on his lips. For a moment he forgot all the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind and all he saw was you, pliant under him, wanting him, loving him.
He leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on your lips, delighted at the way you immediately whined when he pulled away.
“Want more?”
You nodded and he kissed you again, licking your bottom lip suggestively only to pull away again when you parted your lips.
“Ji…”
“Hm?”
“More…”
He complied, kissing you slowly and sensually, occasionally pulling away only to hear you whine and press his lips on yours more urgently than before.
But of course his wolf wasn’t done tormenting him.
She’s trying to free herself.
His hands flew to your wrists to check that the cuffs hadn’t magically opened during your makeout session.
“What are you doing?” he asked agitatedly, as the insecurities started coming back.
“Kissing you?” you breathed out confusedly.
Distracting you.
“You keep pulling at the cuffs,” he said, looking at you like you with wide eyes, like you had betrayed him.
“I didn’t– I didn’t even notice, I–..I just wanted to feel you closer…”
You could tell by his conflicted expression that he didn’t believe it.
“Ji, don’t you trust me?”
His eyes widened and he withdrew his hands. “I…I trust you but…”
He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth dumbly. He trusted you. He loved you. But his stupid rut was making him dumb and his wolf kept telling him that you were still trying to distract him. Maybe it would shut up if he was the one distracting you instead.
Before you could ask him to explain what was wrong, he repositioned himself between your legs and took off your shorts swiftly.
You gasped and tried to close your legs out of reflex, but he held them open effortlessly by grabbing your knees, his eyes fixated on the wet patch on your panties.
“Ji?”
He let out a sound between a moan and a relieved sigh. You were turned on because of him. You weren’t lying when you said you wanted him. He caressed your mound with his fingertips, barely grazing the fabric, but it was enough to have your legs flinching.
Taste her.
Fuck yes, they finally agreed on something. He nodded quickly (to what, you didn’t know) and removed the tiny piece of clothing from you before diving in. He made out with your folds gently, adding his tongue to the formula encouraged by your moans.
“You’re so good at this, Jisungie…” you praised, lost in pleasure.
He moaned and humped the bed, sucking a bit harder.
“Ah!” you gasped, opening your legs wider for him. “Can tell you ate out a lot of girls…”
He shook his head absentmindedly, unconsciously creating a new pattern with his tongue that made you see stars.
“No?” you insisted. “Are you sure?”
His eyebrows furrowed, and he detached his lips from your center to look up at you, confused. Why were you talking about other girls? “What?”
“Just a thought…” you murmured, looking away, a little embarrassed. This was something that had bugged you since your first time with him, but you hadn’t been dating for long and there had been no chance to bring it up. He knew about your past with Jaehyun, but he never mentioned anything about his previous partners. It shouldn’t matter, but you were so curious…and maybe a bit insecure. Now you felt silly. “It’s nothing–”
“Tell me,” he commanded. His voice was soft, but firm.
You sighed. “Remember our first time together?”
He hummed and kissed your inner thigh. How could he forget?
“Well…you uh…acted like you knew exactly what to do…”
He blushed. “Oh…”
“Yep…” you nodded, waiting for him to admit to his promiscuous past.
“I just–I read online what girls like…” he hesitated. “I watched some videos too…I wasn’t too sure about what you would be into, so I just did whatever that felt right…”
“There’s no way that was the first time you gave someone head,” you said incredulously.
“It was…”
“You even made me sit on your face!”
He groaned, pressing his hips harder on the mattress at the memory. “Did you like it?”
“Y-yes, but…”
“It was so good…” he whispered, going back to flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh…” you arched your back and tried to remember what you were talking about.
“T-then…to the other girls, the ones before me–”
“There’s no one before you,” he said between licks.
“R-right, like a guy like you doesn’t–ah! d-doesn’t have girls lining up to suck you off…”
He paused and looked up at you again. “Noona, are you…jealous?”
You could feel your ears getting hot at the accusation and looked away.
“You are!” he exclaimed. He sounded relieved. Happy even.
She’s possessive of you too.
The sound of his laugh angered you a little, but you couldn’t think of a comeback with the way he suddenly sucked your clit into his mouth and moaned loudly.
“AH! F-fuck!” you moaned, fighting the cuffs uselessly.
He circled your clit with his tongue a few times before going down a little to circle your entrance. You squealed when his tongue entered you, drinking all you had to offer. His eyes rolled back when he felt you contracting around the slippery muscle, and he went deeper, rubbing his nose on your clit just enough to make you come with a gasp, releasing directly in his mouth.
He licked you clean softly until your legs were shaking, landing one last kiss on your hip and resting his head on your stomach before he spoke again. “You’re the only one I’ve done this with, noona.”
You breathed out shakily. “What about o-other things?”
“Went on a few dates when I was a teen. Nothing serious,” he admitted. “And there was this girl…she gave me a handjob a couple of years ago…”
You felt your stomach drop. Jealousy really was an ugly feeling. But you tried not to sound too disappointed. “Oh, that’s…nice…”
“I moaned your name,” he confessed.
“You WHAT?!”
“I had already imprinted on you,” he mumbled, drawing figures with his finger on your belly. “I was really horny but you wouldn’t even look at me. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try…maybe gain some experience…but it didn’t feel good and I uh– couldn’t cum until I thought about you and then–yeah…”
“...That’s it?”
“Well, she told everyone I was small down there after that incident, so not many girls tried to approach me. I didn’t want anyone else so it worked out great, I guess…” he murmured, kissing his way back to your center. “And then I finally got to make you mine…”was the last thing he said before he started eating you out again.
“Jisung! Hold on, w-wait–” you squirmed under him, because there was no way he was planning to keep going when you were still sensitive from the previous orgasm.
“Don’t move,” he groaned.
“I think one w-was enough–ah!”
“But you said I was good,” he reasoned, giving you a long lick.
“Y-you are, Ji, you’re s’ good b-but– Oh, my g-god!” you moaned when he gave your clit little kitten licks that added to the painful pleasure. “Jisung, Jisungie, please–”
He circled your thighs with his arms and sucked hard, chuckling when you screamed his name.
She’s perfect like this.
“Ji, p-please, please,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf at the new orgasm approaching too fast, too strong, too much–”JISUNG! F–...Aaah!”
He hummed, approving of the embarrassing sound that escaped your lips as you came in record time because of him. He rutted the bed and his dick twitched at the thought of doing it again and again–
“Jisungie, no m-more…” you begged, tugging at the cuffs desperately.
He sighed and climbed up to grab your wrists. “Stop that,” he warned you. “I told you already: you can’t leave.”
“I’m not trying to leave,” you whined.
“Then stop squirming and let me make you feel good,” he said, trying to go down on you again only for you to quickly close your legs and turn to your side. “Noona!”
You shook your head and he growled, easily manhandling your legs open for him to fit between them once again.
“Enough,” he said, his voice sounding deeper, dangerous. His red eyes and his body temperature made it clear that his rut was about to start, and his alpha instinct was not happy with your behavior. “You’re my mate,” he reminded you, like you could ever forget that.
You nodded.
She’s yours.
“You’re mine,” he said, pinching the soft skin of your thigh.
“Y-yes…,” you whimpered.
You can–
“--Taste you as many times as I want,” he declared, starting to lower his head again.
“BUT–But I want to taste you too,” you said quickly.
Jisung visually malfunctioned, halting his movement and looking at you with wide eyes, then frowning like he thought you may be deceiving him.
“Please, Ji, don’t you want my mouth?”
He could feel the precum staining his pajama pants. “Noona’s mouth?”
Instead of replying, you parted your lips, opening wide and sticking your tongue out slightly, all while maintaining eye contact with him and being cuffed to the bed. No video online had prepared Jisung for such a view.
He had never moved so fast in his life, straddling your chest and pulling the elastic of his pants down just enough for his erection to pop out.
“Want it,” he panted, placing his hips closer to your face. When he felt the first lick on the tip he moaned loudly, grabbing onto the very same bed frame you were cuffed to for support. “Yes, noona, please– Oh!”
You circled the head with your tongue playfully before bobbing your head slightly, loving the way his abdomen contracted and his head fell back in pleasure.
“I love your mouth so much, noona–” he rambled, trying his best (and failing miserably) not to thrust his hips into the delicious warmth.”C-can you take some more?? Just a little–Ooohh yes, yes–Ah!”
You felt a little bad for all those girls who blindly believed he had a small dick and avoided him in the past, because they clearly missed out, but at the same time you were thankful that only you could see him like this. You had never been too possessive but for him… you obviously were.
He lowered his hips even more, caging you under him and starting to fuck into your mouth. “I’m gonna—just ah…just like this– you don’t mind, yeah, noona?”
You moaned, making his legs tremble due to the pleasurable vibrations. “Fuuuck,” he groaned, grabbing your hair with one of his hands to keep you in place as he went faster, deeper. “Yeah, noona, like t-that ah, ah, haa…” he let out a whimper when you gagged.
It felt so good he just had to use his other hand too, now grabbing your head with both of them to bring you impossibly closer. You choked and teared up when your nose touched his navel, and nothing could describe the bliss that took over him, finally cumming down your throat with a deep groan.
“Oh–Ooohhh, f-fuck…”
You coughed and whined when he finally let go of your head, trying to calm down the burning sensation in your throat. Once the tears subsided and you were able to focus again, you noticed that your boyfriend’s hard cock was still on your face, as he jerked off furiously.
“Haa, haa…” he panted heavily, getting off at the beautiful sight under him.
“Jisung–” you were interrupted by your own gasp at the drops landing on your face.
“Aaah!” he moaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch his cum paint your face. “Pretty, s-so pretty…” he sighed, finally slowing down to a stop and climbing off you…and going straight back to eating you out.
“NO!” You shrieked, squirming and kicking.
“You’re wet again,” he pointed out, not bothered by your aimless kicks, still licking your folds.
“Of course I’m wet! I’m with you,” you tried to defend yourself.
He let out a soft moan. “You can’t say something like that and not expect me to pleasure you until you go numb.”
“I want you to fuck me!” you whined, making him malfunction for the second time in a day.
“Yeah?” he breathed out, boring his eyes into you.
“Please, alpha,fuck me–”
You didn’t need to tell him twice. Actually, you couldn’t even finish the sentence before he was sitting up and sliding into you, causing you to let out a broken moan. It had been a couple of weeks since you last had him inside of you like this. Not because you weren’t horny, but because he insisted on letting you rest as much as possible before his rut to avoid hurting you. But what he achieved instead was to make both of you lose your minds as soon as he entered you.
“Haa…” he let out a shaky breath, pulling out and pushing back in weakly, fighting the dizziness that took over his body.
You tugged again, desperately wanting to touch him. “Ji, take these off,” you begged.
He shook his head. “I like you like this,” he admitted, fucking into you again.
You whined. “I want them off!” you insisted.
“And I want to keep you tied to the bed forever,” he whispered, drunk in pleasure and lust, accelerating the movement of his hips to have you moaning weakly. “Pumping you full again, a-and again–Mmh…waking you up with m-my tongue that y-you like aah…you like s’much…”
You curled your legs around his waist, bringing your bodies closer together and he sobbed.
“N-noona…Close–” he admitted, embarrassed. There was something so arousing about having you so vulnerable under him, with no choice but to take everything he gave you.
Pups.
He gasped and stilled his hips, much to your dismay. You tried to move under him, tried to make him hit that spot again, but he quickly grabbed your hips too and kept them in place.
“One s-second, noona…” he said with a pained tone.
“It’s okay, Ji, I’m close too,” you assured him, not knowing what the real problem was.
“That’s not–”
Give her your pups.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, looking at your belly.
Now, before she tries to leave again.
He quickly looked at your wrists which already had some marks due to the chaffing of the cuffs, and then back at your stomach.
“Jisung?” you asked nervously. Something was off with him since he arrived. He looked like he was constantly fighting something, but what?
He finally looked into your eyes, and his were clouded with tears.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Do your wrists hurt?” he asked back, his voice barely audible.
“Oh,” you had forgotten about it for a minute. “Just a little,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel more at ease…”
As soon as you said you felt pain, even if it was just a little, he reached for the key on the nightstand and unlocked the handcuffs. He waited anxiously for your next move, but you immediately grabbed onto him, pulling his upper body towards you and hugging him tightly.
You felt him sigh on your neck and pepper it with kisses. “You’re staying?”
“Of course I am,” you said. “Do you trust me?” you asked once again.
He nodded.
“Then I want you to relax and let me do something, okay?”
He nodded again, but he tensed when he felt you push against his chest.
“It’s okay,” you assured him.
He slowly relaxed and let you move, and in a few seconds you had him on his back with you on top, his hard cock still pulsating inside of you. With wild eyes, he moaned softly at the sight. Having you under him was hot, but you on top was crazy. He didn’t think he could choose. His hands immediately held onto your waist as you started bouncing on his cock hard and fast. If he was close before, he was going to explode now.
Cum inside.
He whined, but he didn’t have the strength nor the will to stop you. Instead, he thrust up into you, trying to ignore his wolf’s words. He looked up at you, eyes full of doubt.
“Wanna cum inside, baby boy?” you purred, feeling your climax approach again.
Yesyesyesyes…
His mouth opened into a silent moan, and he nodded.
You smiled and leaned in for a kiss, moaning as he held you in place to take his thrusts.
Fuck her until it takes.
He shook his head. “Noona’s on the pill,” he mumbled against your lips, licking your lips and swallowing your moans while saying (what you thought were) incoherent words. “‘s okay, it;s okay it’s…It’s s-safe…”
“That’s what’s been bothering you?” you laughed softly, kissing his cheek lovingly. “It’s not the first t-time we do this, y-you know it’s safe–AH!”
It wasn’t the first time you slept together, but it was the first time his wolf asked asked for pups and Jisung was freaking out because now was a terrible moment to be a dad but —
“Noona, noona, noona–oh, oh, oh–OOOHH!”
He let go, and his knot finally started forming, keeping you both in place while he filled you with his seed, and his wolf purred with delight. You rutted against his pelvis a couple of times until your own body trembled with pleasure, collapsing on top of him and into his arms. He held you tightly and let you rest for a bit. After all, this had just been his pre-rut. You both needed to rest before the actual rut started.
Pups…
He nodded, smiling dumbly and allowing himself to enjoy this fantasy only this time.
531 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 10 months ago
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
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"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
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luveline · 10 months ago
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hi jade!!!! hope you’re doing well❤️
i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but i just finished reading your aaron fic where reader flinches during an argument with him and i was wondering if i could request that with spencer!? that aaron one had me MELTIN
luv you so much! 🤍🤍
thank you lovely, and thank you for your request! cw implied past domestic or childhood violence
Spencer is taller than he realises, you’d suggest. He doesn’t understand that he can be intimidating because he’s spent years of his life intimidated, and thought harmless. 
“You’re not going,” he says, towering, so, so tall where he stands in front of you. 
Your hands are sweating, but you hold your ground. “Of course I am. I’ve been her consultant for the last three years, Spencer, any mistake she’s made is one she made from my advice.” 
Your frustration colours your words, tightens them, your throat burning as you try to explain it to him. All he’s hearing is the potential danger. His eyes are squinted with it, curls falling into his eyes. He’s too busy arguing with you to brush them away. 
“You can’t walk into an active war zone. Do you even know what that’s like? You’ve never been to these places, you can’t begin to understand the danger you’d be in if you went.” He tries to take your hand. You take a step away from him. “I don’t know why you’re being like this.” 
“Like what?” you ask, immediately doubly pissed off. 
“Refusing to see that what you want to do is impossible. You wouldn’t be any help to her, you’d only be in danger.” 
“I wouldn’t be any help?” 
“You know what I mean!” His voice bounces off the walls.
“I’m not sure I do, Spence,” you say, vitriolic as he again takes a step toward you, his open hand extended. “Why don’t you explain it to me.” 
“Y/N,” he says, stepping forward again. 
You step back, not wanting your back to a wall but not wanting to be closed in either while he’s so angry, you’re so angry, your heart is beating hard between your ears. “Seriously, tell me why I’d be so fucking useless.” 
“Angel–” Spencer’s hand leaps up toward your face. 
You flinch back hard, the back of your head clipping something marginally softer and your back forced under an alcove with a huge thwacking bang, an odd cry of distress pressed to your closed lips as you sink away from him. Spencer doesn’t feel like Spencer for that split second, he’s someone else trying to shut you up, and he’s close enough to do it. 
“Y/N,” he says, riddled with heartbreak, “Y/N, it’s fine. You’re safe. It’s just me.” 
You slide down the wall to the floor. Heart pounding. Blood rushing all over, and then suddenly stopped. 
“It’s just me,” he says again, softer now. “It’s just me.”
But it isn’t just him. There’s always going to be someone else cornering you, there’s always—
A slim-fingered hand cups your jaw. Spencer’s crouching in front of you now with remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do anything to you.” 
“I know,” you try to say. It comes out as nothing but hot air. You clear your throat. “I know.” 
“It’s just you and me in here.” He rubs your chin with his thumb. “It’s always you and me, right?” 
You breathe out as tears well hot and heavy in your eyes, caught in all your lashes. “You put your hand up and I just thought– I felt like you were gonna hit me and I know you aren’t gonna hit me, I felt like you would.” 
“I was putting my hand up for the cabinet. I was trying to stop you from smacking your head on the cabinet,” he murmurs, his lips hardly parted. “I did. But I shouldn’t have closed you in.” 
He shows you his hand, the one he’d rested so carefully against your jaw and cheek. His knuckles are a sore red and the skin around them mottled —that had been the thwack. You’d knocked your head into his hand and he’d stopped you from getting hurt. He must’ve done it quickly, with no regard for himself. 
Spencer isn’t the kind of boy who’d hit you. 
“Oh, fuck,” you mumble to yourself, dropping your chin to your chest. Tears press hot behind your eyes. It took a few beatings for you to start anticipating them, and a crueller violence after that for it to stay. To flinch at a familiar hand? “I’m sorry.” 
“What are you sorry for?” He couldn’t speak any softer. He’s on his knees in front of you, a picture of gentleness. The annoyance he’d spoken with only minutes before is nowhere to be seen. 
For flinching, and falling apart. “I didn’t mean to…” 
“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t even matter, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I,” —he ducks his head to meet your eyes, his voice taking on a loving dulcetness— “know you don’t like yelling, I shouldn’t raise my voice. I’m the sorry one.”
You’re relieved he isn’t mad. You honestly don’t think Spencer would ever lay his hands on you, but it wasn’t thought that made you duck away from him, it was the pure fight or flight of a remembered trauma. The memory of a raised hand and the pain of a blow to your face.
“It’s not about the shouting,” you confess. 
He rubs your arm. “Angel, I know.”
You watch his fingers rub up and down your arm, the gentle tug of your skin with each pass. “Why do you call me that?” you ask quietly. 
“Would you prefer something else?” 
“I don’t know. I don’t know how you’d sound saying anything else.” 
“You’re sort of like an angel.” He sounds earnest and shy at once. “You know? You're pretty, and sweet when you aren’t mad at me, and–” He pauses at your soft laugh. “I really didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.” 
He brings both hands to your cheeks and wipes at the dampness of dissipated tears under your eyes with his thumbs. He holds your face without hurry nor roughness nor want to straighten you out; he doesn’t encourage you to lift your head, he only meets your eyes as you are, letting you decide what you want to do. 
“Thanks, Spencer,” you say. 
He leans in to kiss your cheek, his hair brushing your nose. You hold still, but you aren’t afraid.
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months ago
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dealer!rafe getting road head from his girl after he took her shopping 😏???
well it’s the least you could do after he spoils you so much 😉
You were happy as can be, sitting pretty in the passenger seat of the luxury car Rafe drove. The trunk and some of the back seat were filled shopping sacks, after a long day at the high end mall he had taken you to. Your eyes couldn’t help but travel over to your handsome man, always admiring how good he looked. Light scruff that was shaped up to fit his buzzcut, gold chain that rested against the neck of the clean white t-shirt he wore and jeans hugging his long legs. He was just so sexy to look at and so so good to you.
“Pretty girl, w-what are you doing?” Rafe asked, looking down to see your sparkly acrylics unbuttoning his jeans. He looked back up towards the road, hearing the audible noise of his zipper being pulled down.
You hummed, reaching your petite hand into the waistband of his black Tom Ford boxers to pull out his hardening length. “Just showing daddy how appreciative I am.” You said, leaning your head down to slowly wrap your glossy lips around the pink tip. Rafe let out a small groan, his stunning blue eyes meeting yours for a brief second to watch you take him further down.
“Shit.. lookin so fuckin pretty taking daddy’s dick down your throat.” Rafe mumbled, removing his right hand from the steering wheel to place on the back of your head. He looked back up at the road, trying to focus on his driving, but that was becoming difficult the further down you went.
You gagged around his length, trying to fit him all in your mouth which was nearly impossible with the kind of dick this man had. You pulled back, a string of spit hanging from your lips as you looked up at him with big eyes, his own looking at you for a split second. Any girl from his past, he would have laughed and shoved their head back down, not even caring about how big he was or how much they gagged. You being his beautiful queen though, had him praising you to make you feel more encouraged.
“Relax your throat for me baby, you can do it. God, you are so fucking beautiful.” Rafe told you, guiding your head back down gently.
You slowly wrapped your lips around his thick shaft again, bobbing your head up and down as you slobbered around his massive length like a good girl. You took his advice, relaxing your throat and breathing through your nose as you inched your way down.
“Oh fuck, mama…yeah that’s that shit I like.” Rafe groaned, the view below him a beautiful one as your nose rested against his lower abdomen as you had successfully managed to take him down your throat. The fact that you listened to him so well, had his balls aching for release, especially when you pulled back only to get more sloppy.
“You are gonna make daddy nut quick, if you keep that shit up.” Rafe’s sexy voice drawled out, hand gripping the steering wheel tight. Fuck, is the kinda of royal treatment he gets for spoiling you, just because you are pretty?
(Yes daddy it sure is. 👅)
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thecharacterchronicler · 7 months ago
Text
Memorable || Sebastian Sallow x Reader || Smut
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Outline: Sebastian invites you to the ball, the very first one you get to attend at Hogwarts. After learning that you have yet a few more first times to experience, he vows to make this night memorable for both of you.
Word count: 5’595
Warnings: Aged up characters, first time sex and explicit smut.
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Sebastian was sitting on the grass, his textbook opened and resting on his legs. Despite the soft spring rays of sunshine warming his face, the birds singing in the trees and your quiet presence right next to him, he still felt nervous.
He stared at you in awe of how beautiful your eyes looked in bright sunlight, how shiny and soft your hair seemed to be, how the first two buttons of your blouse were popped open and how he could catch a glimpse of a forbidden sight every time you slightly leaned forward to turn the page of your own textbook, scribbling notes on the parchment on your lap. He had suggested you studied together this afternoon, which wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence, but this time, getting himself to focus on anything else but you proved close to impossible.
“Hey, what are the two of you up to ?” A familiar voice asked. Sebastian managed to peel his eyes away from you to see Garreth Weasley, making his way to you with a friendly smile on his face.
“Studying.” You replied, barely looking up at him which somehow pleased Sebastian more than what he’d want to admit. “You should do the same if you want to pass your exam.”
“A wise advice.” Garreth replied, shaking his head as he sat down on the grass next to you.
Sebastian groaned. Getting you to agree to a study session with him without letting Ominis know about it had been harder than what he anticipated since the three of you were almost always together but he had managed to make it happen, but Garreth joining you wasn’t something he had planned on. He wanted to be alone with you… Not to mention that he didn’t like the way the redheaded gryffindor had decided to sit, so close to you, his knee almost touching yours…
“Oh look, there they are.” Sebastian said, pointing behind you to redirect Garreth’s attention somewhere other than on the parchment paper on your lap, where your skirt was slightly pulled up and letting a silver of your skin appear.
You and Garreth both turned around in time to see a group of Beauxbâtons students passing by. They had arrived a few days earlier along with students from Durmstrang for the Triwizard tournament organized at Hogwarts. This year being the ten year anniversary of the tournament, Professor Black had decided to make it special by hosting it in the middle of spring instead of waiting until winter.
The French students were so elegantly dressed, walking graciously towards the castle like a fascinating herd of absolutely gorgeous creatures. Sebastian knew the new students were Garreth’s current obsession, he even knew he kept failing to find the courage to invite one of them to the ball so, as expected, the young man jumped on his feet to take a better look at the light blue airy uniforms passing by, even awkwardly waving in their direction.
Unfortunately for him, none of the French girls paid him any mind, only one of them shooting a bright smile in Sebastian’s direction before vanishing inside the castle. Sebastian had smiled back at her instinctively, without really thinking about it, but the exchange between him and the Beauxbatons student didn’t go unnoticed, causing him to face Garreth’s envious disbelief and your dark stare.
“I think you caught the attention of the one with the long legs and plump lips, you lucky bastard.”
“I was just being friendly.” Sebastian argued, unsure of how to interpret the way you were staring at him. The only thing he knew was that he was in imminent danger of an ancient magic lighting hitting him if he didn’t justify himself quickly enough.
“I get it, I really want to be friendly with them too. All of them. At the same time.” Garreth continued, with a stupid smile on his face.
“Alright, you guys can drool together all you want but I have to study so I’ll find a quieter place to do so.” You snapped, closing your book and rolling your parchement papers with impatience.
“Wait.” Sebastian demanded but you were already walking away. He watched you until you reached the doors leading back inside the castle. Maybe you were dressed in a plain gray uniform like everybody else in Hogwarts, maybe you weren’t that gracious while walking around the castle but by Merlin, you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. Those girls from Beauxbâtons were so elegant and full of poise which seemed to seduce pretty much every other guy but not him. Sebastian Sallow couldn’t care less about elegance, decorum or grace, because all he wanted was you and the beautifully chaotic way you fought against poachers, ennemies and acromentulas. You and the insanely hot way you always beat him up at duels. You.
“Dammit, Garreth.” He groaned, looking up at him and noticing how he still was very clearly lost in his daydreams about the Beauxbatons girls. “I wanted to ask her to go to the ball with me.”
“Who ? Long legs and plump lips ?”
“No, you idiot.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “I swear if I missed my chance because of you and someone else asks her…”
“Well, I heard Leander talking about inviting her the other day so maybe you should hurry up.”
Sebastian cursed under his breath, packing his books and quickly stood back up. He reached for Garreth’s shoulder, forcefully pulling him with him as he headed to the castle to follow on your steps.
“I’m going to need your help.” Sebastian explained, the gryffindor cloak of his friend tightly balled up in his fist as he dragged him along until they reached the library doors. “Mrs Scribner banned me from the library for the rest of the semester so we’re going to have to be careful… and creative.”
“What the hell did you even do for her to go to such extremes ? Usually she only gives you detention.”
“Err, I might have damaged a few pieces of furniture when I broke into the restricted section… Turns out those armchairs really aren’t sturdy enough to resist the embers of a few confrigo spells shot at the restricted section gates… And old books ? Highly inflammable.”
Garreth quietly nodded at him, no stranger to such incidents himself. Together, they sneaked inside the library, stopping to hide behind the first bookshelf, out of sight from Scribner’s desk. Both leaned over to take a look, easily spotting you sitting at a nearby table, all alone.
Sebastian called your name, as quietly as he could but you didn’t hear him. Garreth tried making random sounds, as if you would be more keen to answer to a bad imitation of an owl shriek rather than your own name, but nothing worked, you stayed focused on your homework.
…Homework ? Brillant.
Sebastian opened his texbook, retrieving a crumpled piece of parchement on which he scribbled something. He balled up the paper in his hand and peeked from behind the bookshelf, aiming at you and throwing the ball of parchement, hitting the back of your head. You barely moved in reaction, looking around but not where he was hiding from the librarian.
He scribbled another note and repeated the process, this time the ball of paper getting caught in your hair. He heard your loud, annoyed, sigh from afar as you pulled his note out of your locks and placed it on the table next to your book without giving it a second thought.
“And this is the hero of Hogwarts.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. Garreth let out an amused sound, reminding your slytherin friend of his presence. “Go see her, tell her to check the notes.”
“What ?! Why me ?” Garreth asked, a bit too loudly.
“Because if Scribner catches me here, I’ll probably get expelled.” Sebastian reminded him. It was only fair that Garreth helped him since he was the one who had ruined his first plan but the young man seemed pretty uncomfortable at the thought. “What are you scared of ?”
“Her.” He admitted, without hesitation. “She’s in a bad mood because you flirted with the Beauxbâtons girl and I know better than to go and face her wrath.”
“I did not flirt with that girl… Now, go!” He pushed him out of their hiding place and Garreth hesitantly walked towards you, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure Sebastian didn’t change his mind.
You didn’t notice him standing next to you right away, too busy taking notes on a chapter until he cleared his throat, making you jump.
“By Merlin, what do you want ?” You asked him, slightly annoyed to be interrupted while studying once again.
“Err, Sebastian says you need to check the notes.” Garreth repeated, awkwardly glancing to the bookshelf behind which Sebastian was still hiding.
“The notes ?” You repeated, confused, wondering if it had something to do with your homework until Garreth pointed at the ball of crumpled paper on the table. You reached for it, smoothing it so that you could read a single word written in runny blue ink.
“Ball ?” You read out loud, looking at Garreth for an explanation but he clearly had none. You turned around and bended down to pick up the other ball that he pointed to, still on the floor, and repeated your gesture to smooth out the wrinkled paper. “With ?”
What were they up to ? Was it a prank ? A joke ? Because you definitely didn’t have time for that, not so close to your exam.
You looked up to where Garreth kept nervously glancing, seeing Sebastian’s freckled face peeking from behind a shelf. Your eyes met but he didn’t register it quickly enough to stop his movement as he aimed another balled up note right at your face.
Ouch. It hit your nose before falling on the floor.
He mouthed a quiet sorry in your direction and you shook your head disapprovingly before picking up the last note.
“Me ?” You read, placing the wrinkled notes next to each other, like a puzzle. “Ball with me ?”
You looked at Sebastian again. A slight pink blush was now coloring his cheeks as he anxiously stared back at you.
“Well ? What do I tell him ?” Garreth asked, unable to remain still any longer.
“Oh uh… Tell him to meet me tomorrow afternoon in the gardens.” You replied. Your friend seemed to find the answer odd but didn’t say anything, simply walking back to Sebastian to rely the message to him.
Sebastian listened intently then looked at you again, a confused expression on his face. So you shyly nodded at him and a smile slowly appeared on his lips. He felt himself bursting with joy and pride that you accepted his proposal, even forgetting that he was persona non grata in the library as he fully stepped out of his hiding spot before Scribner’s voice reminded him of what he risked if he got caught. So, with one last smile in your direction, he ran off before she could spot him, leaving you to your studies with a silly smile on your face too.
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The next afternoon, Sebastian met you as promised at the same place you had attempted to study together the day before. You weren’t too sure what to say or do as he walked to you, the question of whether he had asked you to go to the ball with him as a friend or as something more had kept you awake all night long. The only way to know for sure would be to ask him, but you couldn’t quite gather the courage to do so. Not yet.
Instead, you awkwardly led him further away from the mass of other students, behind a tall bush and on a small patch of wildflowers. You stood with your head held high in front of him, trying to fake the confidence you suddenly lacked in his presence, his coy smile making it even harder to keep your composure and not melt in front of him right away.
“I’d like to practice.” You told him, a bit embarrassed to admit that you didn’t know how to dance. Not properly. Not like the Beauxbâtons girls probably did.
“Practice dancing ?”
“Yes. Do you think you could… teach me ?”
A faint amused smile appeared on Sebastian’s face, instantly making you regret asking for his help. He was probably going to laugh at you for lacking such a basic skill in this time and age...
“Of course.” He simply said, stepping closer until he was able to place his hand on your hip, the warmth of his skin radiating on your own through your skirt. He outstretched his other arm to the side, his palm up to welcome your hand in his. You followed his lead, resting your other hand on his shoulder, the unusual proximity between you leaving you breathless for a moment.
He took a step to the side and you followed a bit late and again when he stepped back, unable to properly anticipate his movements. You stared at your feet, trying to follow his lead and after a while, you felt like you were getting slightly better at it…
“Now ideally, you should be looking at me.” He instructed, amused by how complicated it seemed to be for you to let him lead you while he was so comfortable swaying to imaginary music.
You looked up to his brown eyes, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
“When did you learn how to dance ?” You asked him, in an attempt to make small talk so that you wouldn’t be staring into his hypnotizingly beautiful eyes in silence.
“Years ago, with Anne. Ever since our first year at Hogwarts she’s been looking forward to the balls. Back then she promised that if I practiced dancing with her, she’d let me borrow her books on advanced metamorphosis.”
“A deal you couldn’t possibly refuse.” You smiled, imagining a young Sebastian dancing with his twin and pretending that it wasn’t fun.
“Obviously.” He smiled back, as you realized that you had managed to follow his steps without looking for a moment.
With his face so close to yours, smiling at each other, it was almost tempting to lean just a little bit closer and see what would happen if you pressed your lips against his. Would he step away ? Would he return the kiss ? The way he was looking down at you made you feel like the latter was the most plausible outcome but you didn’t have much time to ponder as he suddenly attempted to twirl you around… And you crashed against his body instead of gracefully turning in his arms.
“Sorry, it’s my first time doing this.” You said, feeling the need to justify yourself.
“Will it be your first ball ?” He asked, curious.
“First ball, first dance, first date…”
His eyes sparked with excitement and some kind of mischief at your words, prompting him to try to twirl you again just so that you’d crash into him once more. With your chest pressed against his, he held you closer and tighter, looking down at your face with a smirk.
“You can count on me to make all your first times memorable then.” He promised.
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“Will you please stop it, Sebastian ? The whole bench is trembling because you keep bouncing your leg.” Ominis complained.
Sebastian tried to still his body, taking a deep breath to appease the growing nervousness inside of him but a few seconds later he was back at absently bouncing his leg again, causing Ominis to sigh in despair.
After a few afternoons of practicing dancing with you, Sebastian felt comfortable and rather confident doing it. Especially with you. It had been the highlight of his day for the few days leading up to the ball, he’d joined you behind that bush and get to hold you in his arms for an hour or so, swaying with you and pulling you close every once in a while, each time getting dangerously closer to letting his instinct kick in and passionately kissing you… But he had promised himself that he would be on his best behavior with you, that he’d be a gentleman, and that he’d make your first ball as amazing as it could be.
But he just couldn’t help it but feel nervous. It wasn’t a quiet dance in the garden anymore but a real party with music, nice clothes and other people around. He was worried everything would be different this way, and mostly, he was worried that after this night, he wouldn’t get to share with you such intimate moments like you did while practicing anymore.
He tugged on his collar, adjusted his vest and ran a hand through his brown hair. He had tried to comb them back in the same way Ominis did with his but his hair were too unruly to fully comply with that idea, some locks already shooting in different directions and sometimes grazing his forehead.
All the students old enough to attend the ball were making their way to the ballroom, excitedly chatting and laughing. The crowd was growing outside the doors as well, young people dressed in gorgeous gowns and suits waiting for their date to arrive.
Sebastian spotted Garreth and Leander entering the ballroom together and smiled mockingly at the realization that neither of them had been able to find a date. A while later, Poppy shyly approached, dressed in a pretty extravagant yellow dress for such a usually quiet girl. She complimented Ominis on his white costume and they awkwardly linked their arms together as they left Sebastian on his own.
His stomach tightened as the possibility that maybe you had changed your mind and didn’t plan on attending anymore occurred to him. Or maybe you had decided to go with someone else at the last minute. Maybe a guy from Durmstrang convinced you to sneak out with him instead and would steal all your first times from him…
But then, he saw you.
From the moment you walked in, everyone else disappeared from his sight, leaving only you in your gorgeous dress. You were like a vision, something otherworldly and he couldn’t believe that it was him you were walking towards. How did he get so lucky ?
“Good evening.” You greeted him, with a smile but he didn’t return it right away, too busy staring at you in awe of your beauty.
“You look… You are beautiful.” He said, nervously pulling on his collar again.
“Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”
He smiled, glad that you liked the all black suit he had bought for the event. It had costed him more than what he had budgeted, but he was determined to look his best for you. He offered you his arm and you took it, gladly using it to keep you balance as you walked down the stairs in your impressive ball gown and uncomfortable shoes.
You entered the ballroom together, marveling at how beautifully the decor was and how lovely the music playing sounded. You tried the buffet, eating and drinking merrily at a table with your friends before putting your dance practice to good use. Sebastian twirled you around, bended you over and even kept you closer than required for a few dances, making you laugh and smile joyfully while having a great time.
But unfortunately, it was all over too soon, the party coming to an end as more and more students left the ballroom. Soon, Sebastian and you were the only ones left still swaying to the music, the few last couples quickly grabbing something to eat or drink before heading to bed.
“Maybe we should go.” You told your date, reluctantly. Both of you could have continued dancing and holding each other like this forever.
Sebastian nodded as the last song ended, releasing your from his embrace. He walked you out of the ballroom, leaving the magical decor and the soft music behind. In the hall, faint sunlight was already shining behind the windows, indicating it was very early morning. He looked down at you, the thought of letting you go back to your dorm and be separated from you again feeling all too overwhelming suddenly.
But what other choice did he have ? Maybe next year, after you both graduated from Hogwarts he could ask you to move in with him in Feldcroft, or maybe he could follow you wherever you wanted to go… But for a few more months, you still were students and had no choice but to each sleep separately.
Resigned, Sebastian quietly walked you back to your dorm, adjusting his pace to yours and your aching feet and tired legs. Once you reached the entrance of your common room, you turned around to look at him, unsure of what to say apart from wishing him a good night.
“And thank you for such a memorable first time.” You added, with a smile.
His eyes darkened slightly at your words, giving him a sudden unexplainable need to share many more first times with you. So, as a rush of pure adrenaline seized him, he stepped closer and his lips crashed against yours, kissing you more feverishly than you imagined he would. Your first kiss.
He pressed his body against yours, his hands finding the small of your back. He deepened the kiss and, with the strength of his own body, forced you to take a few steps back until you were both inside the - relative - privacy of your common room.
“You shouldn’t, if someone catches you here you’ll get detention.” You reminded him, knowing the intrusion of a slytherin inside your dorm would cause quite a scandal if anyone heard about it.
“I don’t care.” Sebastian replied, silencing your worries with another hungry kiss.
All he ever knew was the Slytherin common room and dorms, he had never stepped inside any other students quarters during his seven years at Hogwarts. Of course, he had always been curious about the other houses’ dorms. He often said he would love to see what they looked like, to compare them to his own but now that he finally was inside one of those forbidden areas, he couldn’t care less about what it looked like. The only thing that mattered to him at this very moment was where he could find a couch - or a table, anything would do - to lay you down so that he could take that dress off of you.
The common room was plunged in darkness at this hour, the only light coming from the dying fire in the chimney and filtering through the tainted glass windows. You bumped into an armchair and he cursed when his shoulder hit a stone statue, but he kept walking you backwards until you could no longer move, your legs pressed against the back of the sofa facing the fireplace.
Finally.
Sebastian allowed his hands to roam over the fabric of your dress, stopping at your shoulders and slowly peeling the straps off until they loosely rested on your arms. Then, he gripped the soft fabric over your belly, pulling it down in a torturously slow motion, revealing your skin inch by inch.
“We might get caught.” You warned him, in a whisper.
Probably. But he was too far gone now to step back and walk away. After all this time, daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch you like this, imagining the curves and lines of your body hiding underneath your school uniform, wanting you to be his and only his, he was too close to fulfilling the dangerous desire he had fought against for so long to renounce.
“It’s alright.” He breathed, his fingers grazing your lips as he angled your face in his direction, his brown eyes plunging into yours, a hint of mischief still blazing in his gaze. “You’ll just have to be very quiet.”
You couldn’t quite decide what to do. The consequences you’ll both have to face if you got caught doing this would be enormous… But at the same time, you had wanted this for so long - probably as long as he did - so stopping him and sending him back to his dorm seemed to require a huge amount of willpower and you clearly lacked it. You nervously glance to the stairs leading to the bedrooms, making sure no noise could be heard expect for the faint cracks of the fire and the sound of the wet kisses Sebastian was placing all over your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder…
Your dress pooled around your feet, exposing yourself to him and, although you felt kind of vulnerable like this, the hunger that passed on his face as he took in your almost naked body in front of him was an obvious indication of how desperately he wanted you.
By Merlin, you were beautiful. Even more beautiful than what he ever imagined in his daydreams. You looked like you were made for him, like every curve of your body was perfectly tailored for his hands to caress, like the softness of your skin was an invitation for his kisses and his touch. If his heart wasn’t beating so fast in his chest, he would have wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he was dreaming again, but if it was the case, he sure as hell didn’t want to wake up. Not now. Not before he could lead you around the sofa and lay you down on it, wanting to remember how incredible you looked in this very moment, with the dark leather of the couch around you and the warm light of the chimney flashing in your eyes.
He quickly took off his vest and unbutonned his shirt, feeling like his body was on fire. His pants were getting alarmingly tighter around his growing erection. Everything inside him was begging to have you. Right here, right now. But he knew better than to rush things. He wanted to savor this, make sure that if it was his only opportunity to have you, he’ll take his sweet time to carve each moment in his memory forever.
He sat at the end of the couch, his hands finding your thighs and attempting to push them apart but you stayed still under his gentle touch, nervousness rising in you.
“I’ve never… What if I’m bad at this ? Like I’m bad at dancing.” You admitted, afraid he might be disappointed with you.
“Nonsense.” He said, with a cocky grin. “But I won’t mind if you want to do like we did for dancing and practice every day until you’re comfortable enough.”
You laughed and your body relaxed, allowing him to slowly pull your underwear off and spread your legs apart. Before you could even realize, his face disappeared between your thighs.
Sebastian knew one thing or two about how to make a woman comfortable, all thanks to the forbidden books and journals Garreth had shared with him and Ominis last year. He had made sure to remember every tip and trick written on the pages, understanding that - unlike men - women needed to be prepared and sufficiently aroused in order for them to find an intercourse enjoyable… So he was just doing as advised, running his tongue between your folds. One thing he didn’t expect though was the way you reacted to this new sensation, shuddering with pleasure under his soft licks. He must have been doing something right.
With this welcomed boost to his confidence, he kept moving his tongue over your sensitive skin, exploring and tasting you, finding it surprisingly pleasant and delicious. He could faintly hear your ragged breathing, your thighs pressed against his ears preventing him from focusing on anything else but you and your pleasure. At some point, you reached for his hair, your fingers entangling in his tousled locks, a soft moan leaving your lips which was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.
But he knew it wasn’t it. Not yet.
He had to make sure you were ready to take him. All of him. So he plunged a finger passed your entrance, making sure to keep lapping at your center so that it would still feel pleasurable to you. You trembled in reaction, thighs tightening around his head. He took it as a silent permission to keep going, gently pumping his finger in and out. After a while, he boldly added another one to stretch you out for him a bit more which seemed to surprise you at first but the discomfort you felt quickly faded with his simultaneous - and merciless - treatment of your clit with his tongue.
You arched your back, doing your best to stay quiet as a wave of pleasure completely took hold of you. Sebastian resurfaced in front of you, watching with a satisfied grin as your body shook with the orgasm he had given you, his chest puffed out with pride.
But even though he loved to see you come undone, especially since it was his doing, he couldn’t forget the fully grown and rock hard erection in his pants, almost painfully demanding attention too. He reached for his trousers, if only to free his cock from the tight fabric around it and was surprised to see you spread your legs open again, silently inviting him in for more.
He angled his stiff cock at your entrance, ready to push past your glistening folds but you placed a hand on his bare chest, stopping him.
“Be gentle.” You asked him, before allowing him to continue.
He looked at you with a tender smile, his erection slowly sliding inside you as he leaned over, until his face was close enough to yours to plant a kiss on your lips, a softness that clashed with the overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching your insides. It wasn’t painful but the sensation felt foreign and it took you a moment to get used to it.
Sebastian stayed still, giving you time to adjust to him, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your lips, cheeks and neck in the process. When he finally felt your body relax, as if it had finally accepted his presence inside you, he attempted to move. Very slowly.
Attentive to the expressions on your face, he made sure to slow down every time you grimaced, until finally, your features told him that you were starting to enjoy his movements as much as he did.
“This feels pretty nice.” You informed him, breathlessly.
Pretty nice ? Was it all it was to you ? Because to him, it felt like fireworks going off in his brain, the feeling of his cock buried inside your warm and wet center, your walls so tight around him was the best thing he ever experienced and if he could have it his way, he’d simply never stop fucking you.
He wanted you to feel as good as he did, not just pretty nice… So he decided to stop worrying about hurting you and finally let go of his restraint, thrusting into you much deeper and quicker than before. You closed your eyes, making him unable to interpret the way you felt about it all anymore. But then, a moan slipped from your lips, making his body tingle with pleasure in reaction. He was making you feel good. Finally.
“Faster.” You demanded, your voice a barely audible plea among your panted breaths.
But Sebastian heard you loud and clear, putting all the strength he had left into his fast thrusts until you tensed all around him, your cry of bliss causing him to release himself inside of you with a loud gasp of relief.
Then, he collapsed on top of you, his face resting on your heaving chest as your body trembled with a pleasure like none other.
“That was…” He started, interrupting himself to catch his breath.
“Memorable ?” You finished, with a giggle.
He agreed, his body feeling so numb that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to move from on top of you. Not that he wanted to anyway. Now that he had you, he was determined to never let you go again. He’d be the most annoying boyfriend you could ever ask for, he’ll follow you around like a puppy, he’ll do whatever you asked of him and he’ll make sure to kiss and hug you at the most inappropriate and inconvenient times…
A noise resounded up the stairs, suddenly alerting you both, reminding you of what you risked if you got caught by someone in such a compromising situation.
“It must be the prefect.” You whispered, helping Sebastian get off of you so that you could both get up and move. “You need to go.”
You helped him button his shirt up as he tugged his satisfied cock back into his pants. He reached for his vest and you reached for your dress, putting it back on as quickly as you could. Once Sebastian was more or less presentable, he rushed to the door as some footsteps slowly approached the common room. You anxiously looked, hoping he’d be able to get away before your prefect could see him and report him but instead of leaving, he hurried back to you to plant one last kiss on your lips. You quietly giggled, pushing him away after a few seconds to remind him that he needed to go and he did, running off into the deserted corridors and back to his dorm with yet another silly smile plastered on his face, very similar to the one that stayed on yours for the rest of your short night.
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mrsjellymunson · 6 months ago
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Start Something
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day
WC: ~2.5k
C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).
A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️
I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤
My masterlist
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Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.
You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.
Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.
This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.
This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.
He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.
So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.
He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.
He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.
And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.
He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…
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Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.
You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…
But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.
What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.
And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…
All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??
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Neither of you should’ve worried.
As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.
You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.
Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.
Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.
You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.
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The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.
You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)
With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.
Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,
“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”
He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,
“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”
You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.
With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”
You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.
You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.
Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.
You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.
It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.
As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.
It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.
And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.
It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.
Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.
Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”
Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.
You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.
Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”
You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”
Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.
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You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.
At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…
Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.
He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.
As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.
You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.
He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.
You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?
You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.
You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”
Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.
Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.
Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.
All at once, something shifts. Something big.
Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.
Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.
Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.
Shit, he likes me.
Fuck, she likes me back.
And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.
Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.
You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.
Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.
Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.
The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.
You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.
You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,
“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”
Turning, you add, even less subtly,
“What should I do now, Master?”
Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.
His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,
“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”
The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.
They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.
In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,
“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”
You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.
With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.
Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,
“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”
Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.
He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:
He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.
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Thanks so much for reading!
(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)
Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰
My masterlist
I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃
Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer
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kakushino · 1 year ago
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Be my Owner
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Demon pet! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Demons mated for life, sharing lifespan with their mates.
Tags: mild allusions to depression (reader), demon pet AU (domesticated demons), in heat, smut, nipple play, mating, dom-leaning bottom reader (i think???) Word count: 7,4k
Masterlist | My Pet Demon collab
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You knew you were not well mentally; the deep hole, where your heart should be, made itself known a long time ago. What you didn’t understand was the reason you… required a pet. And it wasn’t even any pet - a dog would have sufficed, maybe - but your best friend gave you a fucking demon.
You didn’t know what you did to deserve your best friend but this was a bit… over the top. Especially now as you stared your new charge in the impossibly deep blue eyes. 
Giyuu was a serious-looking demon, long black hair a little tangled and dry, giving it a distinct spiky shape, cute dark blue horns poking out from his head. He also had dark eyebags, which was hardly surprising, given that he’d had to travel in the sun, which weakened demons a great amount. An overall gaunt appearance was what made your heart want to keep it - keep him.
Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers, though there was a movement about giving them rights by law. You supported that movement passively, but you would have to immerse yourself in it more, now that you owned a demon.
He’d been silent the entire time you and your best friend talked, not moving an inch, and he was still not saying anything when they left.
“So…” He perked up a little when you started to speak. “Uhm… When was the last time you ate?” 
Giyuu shifted on his feet, the first true response to anything that was said that day. His voice was a little raspy, though not overly deep, and it retained a soothing quality. “...three days ago.”
Your friend told you he needed to feed at least once a week, so to be safe, you had to get some meat for him. It would do you no good to starve him, what with his current appearance. “And what type of meat do you prefer?”
The question made him raise his eyebrows briefly, before they fell back into a neutral expression. It seemed not many people, if anyone at all, asked him that. “Salmon.”
You had some salmon filets in the freezer that you could let thaw in the sink for him. It was a curious choice, less… usual? You would think he’d go for more human-like meat, such as pork. Oh well, you would have to look up diet options for him. Your friend told you he was a mutt - a mixed type breed - so you would heed his preference to salmon as well.
You tried not to think how much you focused on feeding him right, when you yourself often skipped eating for days.
Your life with Giyuu settled into a new routine. 
You spread your couch for him for a few days until you could get him a true bed. He always seemed surprised by these little gestures of… human kindness you displayed for him.
The first night on the couch, he’d hardly moved from sleeping on his back; the second he was turned onto the side; by the time a week went by, he’d relaxed enough to snuggle close to the green and yellow bunny plushie you had given him.
You took to feeding him twice a week, which always made his eyebrows twitch before he dug in. Though you followed some advice you found on the demon diet, you tried to incorporate salmon as much as possible, so he could enjoy his favorite meat. You found out he was quite the messy eater, bringing a smile to your face whenever you had to gently wipe off the fish scales or other raw bits off of his cheeks.
Since his hair started to tame down a little from its tangled mess - though the baths he’d taken helped too - you thought the diet was a success.
You ordered some clothes for him. Most of them fit him, some were oversized, but all were made for comfort. Sweatpants, cotton shirts, one hoodie for when the weather became colder, some underwear and socks. You would take him shopping for a pair or two of shoes later, as he’d come bare-footed, as well as buying him more clothes that fit him properly - and also maybe jeans and a dress-shirt, for other occasions... What you received through mail would be enough for now.
The bed arrived. Your flat wasn’t that big, forcing you to put his bed in the living room corner instead of his own room. You tried to give him privacy, giving him several choices of different curtains and screens - of which he’d chosen a sliding-door type screen reminiscent of shoji doors.
Taking care of Giyuu gave you a strange satisfaction. Fulfilling his needs came to you like second nature, and you always pushed through your exhaustion to do things for him you would rarely do for yourself before he came into your life. 
You started to see merit in owning him when you actually went to take a shower after not showering for three days, thinking ‘I must be stinky to him’. You changed your sheets right after that and laid in your clean bed in a fresh set of clothes with your window open to let in the evening air. It was odd. You felt better somehow, despite the two basic actions taking up the rest of your energy.
Your eyes wandered to the door which led to the living room and wondered about Giyuu’s situation. At times it felt like the two of you were two sides of the same coin. Did either of you really have a purpose in life?
Did Giyuu truly deserve to have an owner like you - struggling with basic human needs?
Probably not.
But you were all he had.
With that depressing thought, you drifted off to sleep.
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Before you knew it, it was four months, nearly five, into your companionship arrangement. 
One thing you felt bad about was your hermit-type lifestyle. You worked from home as an editor, which was good for your mental health, and also for your new pet, as you were always home in case something happened. It had a bad side too though - like staying cooped up in the apartment forever. 
While you worked, you allowed Giyuu to stay in your room with you, setting up a small corner for him with a large beanbag, and a few books to read after you confirmed he was literate. At the moment, he was spread out over the chair on his back, reading through Game of Thrones for the nth time. He really seemed to like that book, perhaps you should get the next one in the series, though you never got to finish the first one, courtesy of your limited energy levels throughout the day.
Or perhaps - your thoughts flitted to the Demon Rights movement - you could see if there was a meet up somewhere nearby, so he could interact with other local demons. You remembered they sometimes did those…
You opened up your social media, the one you recently created solely to interact with the local DR group, and checked the upcoming events. It took a little bit of scrolling but you saw one that suited you. 
The Night Parade A.K.A. DR’s 13th Meet up!
It was in a park about 30 minutes away by foot, and the start was around an hour after sunset, which was perfect. The description encouraged people to bring their demon companions for much-needed socializing while the humans could see what others do to help their demons acclimate in homes and other living arrangements. 
The last sentence made your heart plummet down to your stomach.
A kindly reminder that demon companions are required to wear collars by law.
There was a link to their website which offered sustainable collars which didn’t hurt the demons while wearing it.
You saved your work and looked up more information about demon collars, immersing yourself in the vast world that was the Demon Rights site and other sources. Once you deemed yourself at least partially educated on the issue, you went back to the DR e-shop and scoured it for one you thought would be okay for your demon companion.
“Giyuu?” you glanced at him, the book he had been holding in his hand was bookmarked and closed, laying on the table you placed next to his beanbag. He’d been reading not a second ago, how was he so fast? At least he didn’t stand up as he had been prone to do the first month whenever you addressed him.
At times you wondered if he was mute, but then he surprised you by speaking with you in a low voice - which happened more often as he got comfortable. “Yes, owner?” 
“How do you feel about going outside?”
His eyebrows twitched, which you had come to interpret as excitement. You liked to think you were getting better at reading him. “Whatever you want to do, we will do, owner.”
You nodded. “Well… To go outside, you need to… wear a collar,” you said softly, looking at him and gauging his reaction. He gave away nothing. “And, well, I did my research and there were multiple options and I found one that might-” You beckoned him closer and he practically shot to your side, very nearly startling you. “Oh! Yes, do you think this one would be alright?” You scooted a little to the side with your chair, letting him lean in to see the screen. 
It was a relatively plain collar, with nichirin cord hidden in the fabric, and though the locking mechanism was very simple it abided by the law standards. There were no wisteria poison pouches nor electric shock add-ons as your ‘normal’ ‘pet shop’ might offer. The e-shop offered several color options as well.
You watched him as he read the specifications. Was it too much? Maybe you should get just a plain one for other ‘pets’ and try to disguise it as a proper collar. 
Still… it felt wrong to put a collar on Giyuu, as if he were an animal. The thought of degrading him like this made your stomach churn.
“Can I-?”
“Go ahead.”
He took the mouse and clicked on the wine red option. Giyuu stood up straight and looked at you blankly, waiting for you to understand what he meant.
Your eyes flitted between him and the screen, raising your eyebrow. “You want this one?” 
He nodded.
You supposed it was better than choosing a color for him. You quickly added it to the cart, along with a… leash. The whole situation made you feel icky.
Giyuu hovered over you for a moment longer, before you waved him off to his seat with a mutter of ‘thanks’ over your shoulder.
A deep sigh left you, and though you didn’t see, he picked up on it, observing you for a long moment.
At times he wondered if it was him who burdened you so. He knew however that the problem lay deeper inside of you than just a pet like him. He could smell it on you, the lack of certain hormones that fueled human happiness. 
And just as he could smell the lack of them, he could recognize when their levels spiked up - like when you watched him reading in his little corner, or when you saw him dozing in his bed, or enjoying his meat. He also registered that you liked to see him grooming himself, like brushing his hair (rather wrestling it into a manageable mane) and putting oils onto his horns.
His horns, and hair, had been dried out for a long while, the previous shelter not doing much to help out his problems. 
Thanks to your tender care and change of diet, he saw his water marks returning too. The one on his chest was the first to appear, the dark blue standing out against his skin. You had yet to notice.
That was the thing he prided himself in. He was not a mutt, as most people assumed. His coloring was a little unusual but he was of the Urokodaki line, Tomioka branch of Water demons. Giyuu was probably one of the last pure blood demons there were, making him stronger than others - if fed properly. And you did. You listened to him and fed him a fish-based diet for his needs.
You were the first owner who asked him about his opinion and cared about it. And that was one single fact which would make him loyal to death to you. He would gladly wear a collar with your name on it, outside and inside, with pride. 
Because he was yours, body and soul.
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You had nearly forgotten about the event until your calendar gave you a notification. The package from the e-shop had arrived only two days after you ordered it, and you had yet to open it, leaving it to collect dust. The uncomfortable feeling returned. You very much did not want to put a collar on Giyuu, it had to be humiliating - for him - and the last thing you wanted to do was make him out to be some sort of beast he certainly was not.
“Uhm, so,” you started nervously. “We are going out today…”
Giyuu was looking down at you head tilted slightly, as you stood by a small package on the counter. He remained silent.
“I’m really sorry but uhm, by law you need to have a collar… when we go out,” you reminded him gently, fumbling with the package. “I didn’t want to do it but I really need to. I’m so, so sorry. I hate to do this,” you took a deep breath to calm down as you finally took the collar out. 
It appeared high quality, the color matching the picture you remembered exactly. There was a complementary tag with Giyuu’s name and your phone number engraved on it; though very standard, it still made you upset. 
You fumbled with the lock mechanism to undo it so you could slip it on him. Giyuu kindly lifted his hair up when you reached around his neck to fasten it. You tightened the strap only slightly so it wouldn't chafe, checking with your fingers between the material and his cool skin if it was loose enough; it was. 
Electric shocks ran down his spine when you finally touched him - for the first time. You ran a little warmer than he did, and that pleasant contrast against him made the contact all the more enticing. He could not help but close his eyes, content. 
“I’m really sorry, once again,” you mumbled, turning back to the box to take out the matching leash you ordered along with it, tears of frustration filling your eyes.
Giyuu finally said, “I don’t mind.”
His words made you freeze.
“I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.” 
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The walk to the park was dark, obviously, but you somehow didn’t fear the night with Giyuu by your side… on a leash.
I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.
Why did his words not bother him at all? You were upset with yourself; did you really create an image of being possessive of him? Did he think you kept him at home because you didn’t want him to run?
The questions and emotions that followed kept swirling in your brain, even as Giyuu nearly breathed down your neck with his closeness despite giving him as much lead as you could. 
The park was closer than you thought. You weren’t the first to arrive, thank god, and you took a moment to admire the decorations, before you turned to Giyuu.
His horns gleamed in the soft light of the fairy lights that were put up by the organizers. His skin seemed to have a warm glow to it for the first time. Looking at him now, you could tell he became much healthier in your care and that made your heart squeeze. 
How cruel must his previous owners have been to him to reduce him into the wraith he had been when he came to you?
You shook your head and untucked the leash from his collar. Once on the event grounds, you were free to let the demon companions roam and socialize, and you did want Giyuu to have friends outside of you - if you could call yourself his friend at all.
You were his owner after all.
His dark blue eyes observed you for a moment, as if asking for permission or guidance.
“Giyuu, I want you to have fun with other demons here,” you told him softly, a complex mix of emotions stirring up your belly.
Giyuu could pick up on each and decipher them easily though - you were anxious, sad, yet your ‘happiness’ levels weren’t that low… It was a strange smell on you, especially with how you encouraged him to go ‘have fun’. 
But in the end, he strived to make you happy. If you wanted him to talk to others, he would do so.
You watched him walk away towards a group of demons further into the park. You had to tear your eyes away from him, lest you keep staring at him all evening. 
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Though he recognized some of the demons in the gathering, one in particular nearly made him pull a face. 
Shinobu.
The butterfly demon was a menace.
And she made herself known the second she spotted him.
“Oh my, if it isn’t Giyuu. I didn’t know shelters allowed mutts to roam the streets.”
He pressed his lips together in a tight line. Shinobu wasn’t blind, she saw he had a collar, and she knew, of course she knew, that he belonged to a human now. Yet she still chose to taunt him with these untrue things.
“I’m not a mutt,” he focused on the other false information she sprouted. He knew he looked different, but he was of purer blood than her, which she had yet to sense. His face mark had still not appeared either.
She grinned, “Keep telling yourself that and you might actually believe it. Where is the poor human who’s stuck with you?”
He tensed. He was not going to share anything about you with Shinobu of all people. 
“I bet the shelter had to pay them to take you so you would stop stinking up the place.”
“That’s not true,” he told her quietly, unwilling to make a scene and ruin your evening. For you will surely come running if you found him arguing with another demon.
“Not that you were worth much in the first place. Probably had to sweeten the deal somehow…”
Only your opinion of him mattered to him. He didn’t care about Shinobu’s grandstanding… but should she take your name into her mouth, he would surely not hold himself back.
“What, did you spread your legs for your owner to take you?”
“That is a false assumption, Miss Demon, and I would kindly suggest you shut up about things you know nothing about.”
Giyuu turned slightly towards you, not letting Shinobu out of his sight in case she tried something. His heart beat fast.
“Ara ara~ did I hit a nerve? My apologies~” Shinobu’s smile was empty of any emotion, yet it was obvious she felt she was right with her assumption. She checked her wrist as if she had a watch there. “It seems the time I had for you ran out. See ya~”
Watching Shinobu retreat brought Giyuu no satisfaction even as he stepped closer to you. He was tense, and he could smell your anger wafting off of you as well. 
Had you really come to his defense? He would not have let her talk badly about you, of course, but your presence and words warmed his heart. His chest feeling tight as the strong drumming of his pulse beckoned him to start a dance with you - one he was not sure he could finish just yet. Even so, his teeth ached with need.
His dark blue eyes finally met yours, an unknown emotion swirling in his stomach as he breathed in your scent. You were slowly calming down, shoulders relaxing. Oh, he felt he could purr when he realized it was his proximity that made it so, his face gaining a pleased flush hidden by the darkness of the night.
Giyuu stepped closer to you again, nearly leaning into you in a daze.
"Are you okay?" Your worried voice snapped him out of his trance.
You had defended him and now you were worried? Fuck. He wanted to show you he could protect you too, that he could care for you too, that he could provide for you too… 
"I am. I apologize for ruining your evening, owner," he tried to infuse as much of his devotion as he could into his voice, though it was not enough. It would never be enough. His brain whirled with thoughts of how he could show you how he felt for you.
You rushed to reassure him otherwise, making one of the parts inside him preen. “You didn’t ruin anything, Giyuu… What that demon said was uncalled for. If I knew who her… owner was, I’d have a talk with them.”
The situation truly made you mad. Giyuu might not have been as aware of her accusation, but you’d looked up everything the Demon Rights movement protested and felt sick at what you found. 
Demon prostitution.
Forced, of course.
You were glad he had been in the bath at the time, because your reaction had been so visible and uncontrolled you had to walk outside for a minute to breathe. 
The thought of you forcing Giyuu into that kind of thing made you feel even sicker inside as you calmed down in the cool outside air.
Your demon pressed close to you so close you could feel his reassuring warmth, his torso nearly touching your arm. You breathed in his scent and blinked slowly, lulled by his presence. 
A black haired man caught your eye. No, not man, a demon - a demon with an electric collar, one you quickly scrolled past when you saw it in the e-shop. He seemed to be snarling at another demon, a very pale blonde one, before a human woman touched his arm, speaking to him with a smile. 
You recognized the woman from the DR group - she was one of the organizers, Mrs Kamado.
You observed the interaction between the black haired demon and the organizer, realizing that the electric collar was needed for him. He seemed to have selective hearing and it was obvious that she didn’t use it heavily at all, choosing to talk him down instead… which seemed to be working.
“His name is Muzan.” 
You turned to the young man standing next to you. He had a scar on his forehead, his eyes and hair a dark color with shades of red gleaming through when the light hit him just right. “Sorry?”
“The demon is Muzan, he’s an old coot and a bit of a brat but he isn’t that bad,” he explained with a smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m Kamado Tanjiro, my parents are the ones who organized this.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My name is [Name],” you introduced yourself, fully focusing on him.
A click coming from behind you made your head snap around. Giyuu was standing there, looking away from you, seemingly uninterested in what was happening in front of him. You frowned in confusion, turning back to Tanjiro.
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Even with the hiccup at the start, you counted tonight as success. After your brief introduction to Tanjiro, who you learned was an University student at the Ubuyashiki University, he showed you around, guiding you through meeting many owners and demon companions throughout the night. You didn’t meet with the female demon who bothered Giyuu again, thankfully.
You dropped your keys into a bowl by the door with a tired sigh. All the socializing drained you.
You dropped Giyuu’s leash to take off your cross-body bag before you turned to him to take off his collar. You frowned, noticing the gleam of the metal lock seemed a bit dull compared to before.
No matter, you took off the leash and reached for the mechanism.
It did not budge.
You tried again, getting the same result.
“This is strange… Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to sit on your couch so you could see the collar properly in the light of your living room. 
The metal was scratched - badly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Was there a physical fight between Giyuu and the female demon before you noticed them? How had it gotten so busted up? 
You tried to open it again and again, your attempts getting a little desperate as you tried to find a new angle.
Tears of frustration filled your eyes.
You never wanted to make Giyuu wear it. How were you going to take it off of him? It must be so insulting, being degraded into a pet. 
Fuck, you fucked up.
Pale warm hands covered yours, halting your efforts. Your eyes met his, the impossibly deep blue of Giyuu’s soul stared back at you. There was no fear, no judgment. He was looking at you kindly, as if it was not your fault, as if he wanted to reassure you. 
Your throat clogged up with emotion.
“I do not mind, owner,” he said lowly. “I don’t mind keeping it on at home.” 
You pressed your lips together in an unhappy line. “I’m sorry, Giyuu…”
His fingers grabbed your hands in a loose hold and he brought them up to his lips, nuzzling the knuckles gently with closed eyes. “Do not be, owner. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You had nothing to be sorry for, because he had been the one to destroy the mechanism. You would have never allowed him to wear the collar at home, even if he asked. He had realized that while you were putting the collar onto him, and that’s why he did it.
It worked.
He smiled when you turned away from him.
After a shower, Giyuu laid in his bed, staring at the bunny you had given him when he first came to you. The pattern had reminded him of his old friend a little, but the scent had been yours, all yours. 
It was clear to him the bunny plushie had belonged to you before you gave it to him, even if you washed it before he received it.
Now months later, your scent was gone.
But he could easily imagine it as he hugged the bunny close to his chest. He could imagine it was your body against his, warming him; your scent, the one he breathed in today, that enveloped him in comfort and… something else.
There was a strange feeling in his gut that he ignored for the moment.
Would you hug him, if he asked for it? Would you scent the bunny plushie, if he asked for it? Would you become his bunny, if he asked for it?
He quickly backpedaled. 
His bunny?
He… quite liked that. You could be his bunny, and he would be your protector, as it should be.
The feeling in his belly spread into his chest, making him feel hot in his pajamas. Giyuu was confused as to what it could be, pondering on the issue as he snuggled the bunny even closer, imagining it was you.
What had happened differently today?
You gave him the collar, you went to the park, you walked back, you tried taking off the collar…
You touched him.
His hips bucked, making his eyes snap open. He was… humping the bunny unconsciously, thinking of you. 
Though Giyuu realized it was strange to do so, he continued, fantasy overtaking his mind as he closed his eyes again. Your body, pliable and warm under him; your voice, the pretty moans it could produce; your cunt, sopping wet about to be filled with his cu-
Oh fuck.
Giyuu realized what was happening.
He’d entered his heat.
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The morning came too early. 
Your clock read 10:36 AM when you groaned, knowing you won’t be able to sleep anymore. The least you could do was get up and do your hygiene, even if you didn’t feel that hungry for breakfast.
You tiptoed into the bathroom, the sight in the mirror nearly sending you back to bed. You had dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks puffy from sleep, and your hair messy. Nevertheless, you ran your hands through your hair to make it half-presentable, and brushed your teeth, checking your notifications on your phone. There was a friendship request on your social media from Tanjiro, which made you smile and quickly accept. 
By the time you were done with your teeth, you had already started up a conversation with him as he talked about the bakery his family owned. You promised to visit him, and the bakery, when you had the time.
The living room was dark, as it had been since you’d gotten Giyuu. You walked closer to check on him, the bit of light from your open bedroom door enough to see him by. 
He was snuggled with the plushie you’d given him. The cute sight brought a smile to your face, and you went to cover him back up with his blanket, when you noticed something odd. 
Giyuu was sweaty, his pajama shirt damp and his hair sticking to his face as he panted softly, noises of discontent leaving him as his brows furrowed.
You quickly stepped closer to him, sliding the shoji-like curtain along smoothly. You reached out to touch his forehead, worried.
Just as you felt the heat of his skin, his hand grabbed your wrist tightly. “Don’t,” he rasped out, his eyes opening a sliver, feverishly bright.
You frowned, “But Giyuu, you’re burning u-”
“You can’t-” he gasped when you pushed past his weak resistance and touched his sweaty forehead. Again, he tried to fight your hand on him. “You can’t touch me.” 
“What? Why can’t I?” you pulled back slightly, trying to respect his boundaries but also worried out of your mind, leaning over to look him in the eyes.
He let out a strangled sound, nearly crawling back in the bed away from you. His face was flushed a deep red as you reached for him again. “I’m in heat.” He pushed his bunny plushie against you, but you only set it aside and grabbed his wrist. “S-stop touching me, I- I can’t-” 
I can’t hold myself back, is what he wanted to say. Giyuu had wanted to say a lot of things before touching you properly. He had wanted to court you, to give you proper courting gifts and attention, to show you he could be a good mate. This unplanned heat triggered by your touch last night was throwing a stick into his plans. 
He wanted you, he needed you.
You were oblivious to his thoughts, worried out of your mind. “But isn’t the heat painful? Why don’t you take off your shirt?” You didn’t press forward but still gave him no room to escape. “I want to help you, Giyuu.”
Did you even know what you were saying? What your words were doing to him? His face flushed an even deeper red.
You misinterpreted his blush for embarrassment and your thoughts raced in circles. How could you make him more comfortable?
“Why don’t I take off my shirt too? Look,” you quickly discarded the oversized shirt you slept in, leaving you in your panties as you knelt in front of him on his bed. “Now your turn.”
Giyuu was stupefied, and pliable, as you sat him up and took off his shirt as well, making you gasp. His chest was half-covered with demon markings of deep blue imitating water in the way they flowed and centered - it was like an artist splashed him with color and left it to dry. 
Your fingers reached out to trace one such mark going over his heart, making him shiver. You glanced up at his face to check if he was alright.
Giyuu seemed to be in a trance, staring at your exposed chest. The sight made you blush as you finally realized the situation you were in.
“Can I touch you?” he asked roughly, his voice raspy.
“I- okay…” you assented in confusion.
Once he’d gained permission he nearly attacked your chest with a hunger previously unknown to you. His hands cupped your breasts and his hot tongue laved at the skin, quickly getting to one of your nipples to circle the areola. His lips closed around it, sucking it harshly, making you cry out in pain. 
“Stop!”
As if burned, Giyuu pulled back, saliva connecting your nipple and his glistening lips, a teary eyed expression on his face.
The sight hurt your heart, and you sighed, giving up. “Just be gentle, okay?”
He nodded and licked your nipple much more gently, staring you in the eyes the whole time, gauging your face for any discomfort.
There was none, the texture of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You breathed out shakily, closing your eyes as you arched your back slightly, offering him more, urging him to continue.
Giyuu hummed against your flesh, making you shiver, his thumb stroking the unattended nipple softly. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his pajama pants tightly, the slight shift of the fabric giving him enough stimulation to moan. It reminded you that there was something more stiff than your nipples.
Your hand trailed up, cupping his hardness. He bucked his hips, moaning into your chest as you started to pump his shaft through the pants, wetness gathering at the tip.
Giyuu cursed under his breath, switching to the other nipple to give them equal attention with his gentle sucking, whining when you squeezed the tip of his cock a little, his teeth grazing your breast.
You very nearly whimpered when he did that. In retaliation the hand stroking his cock grabbed the hem of his pants instead, your other hand reaching inside to stroke his length unobscured. 
Giyuu had to pull back from your breast lest he bite down as he groaned through his teeth, resting his forehead on your collarbone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin while his thumbs continued to play with your nipples. He could hardly resist leaning more into you, rising to his knees and burying his head in your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing all over you as your head fell back, giving him more access. 
He laved at your skin, kissing it, sucking on it, creating deep hickeys as he pleased, the sensation drawing low whines and moans from your throat.
Then, he bit down on your pulse point gently.
Your hold on his cock tightened, the next stroke rougher than before.
“Don-Don’t! I’m about to-!” You quickly let go. He groaned loudly, as if in pain when your hand retreated from his pants. “Please, I need-!”
Your face felt hot, his desperate state made you so turned on you didn’t know what to do with yourself, except squeeze your thighs together. “What do you need, Giyuu?”
He felt as if he wanted, no, needed to eat you up, as if you were prey and him a predator - as it should have been before demons turned into glorified pets. 
But the feeling was too other to be just hunger; it was also thirst, for the sweet sounds you made when he marked you up, for an even sweeter sound you would make when he bit you and claimed you as his own.
“T-turn over, owner. I need you,” he told you breathlessly, his voice gaining a raspier quality as he pawed at your hips, claws retracted. You’d told him you would help him, didn’t you? Well, he was asking for that help now.
The panties you wore were soaked, and you knew what exactly he wanted you to do. You knelt in front of him and took the panties off, obeying his request and turning around to offer yourself to him on your hands and knees.
There was the sound of fabric being ripped apart before his hand grabbed your ass, thumb digging in as he pulled your flesh back just enough to expose your pussy. “I’m sorry, I just- I just need you.”
Giyuu slid the tip of his cock between your pussy lips, gathering your juices and spreading his precum all over, before he finally started to push in. He let out a shaky, drawn out moan. 
The stretch burned slightly, and you could do nothing but grip the sheets under your hands and push back against him, wanting more. 
“Sh-shit-” He bottomed out, his length pushing against something that made your arms give out and you fell forward, your forearms now supporting your weight.
“Can’t help myself-” he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, a whine leaving his throat at the feeling. His hands held your hips in a bruising grip. 
Then, he set a rough and fast pace. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, like you were his fucktoy, his thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy - disharmonic, desperate. 
You clenched your eyes shut as fireworks sparked behind your eyelids as the heat built up between the two of you. Giyuu was near-painfully thick and long. Even inexperienced, his dick hit all the right places, drawing breathy moans past your lips quietly. 
He himself became non-verbal, panting and keening lowly as he tried to chase his ecstasy. He leaned forward, his right arm supporting his weight just over your shoulder, left hand snaking around to stroke your puffy clit in tight circles, completely out of rhythm with his thrusts. His lips placed open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, nibbling on the flesh and sucking hickeys, staking his claim as the knot in your belly tightened.
Then, near the height of your pleasure, you felt a pinch at the junction of your shoulder and neck. 
As if triggered, your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, making you quiver in Giyuu's tight embrace, even as he still rocked his hips against yours in frantic tight circles, keening against the bite in your shoulder. Each thrust inside sent another wave of pleasure, until you did not know when one ended and another began. You could hardly form a thought, only sounds you vaguely recognized as yours left your throat.
Warmth spilled inside of you after an erratic series of rough thrusts, his arms hugging you tightly, putting his whole weight on you.
The slight pain in your shoulder faded as Giyuu pulled back to lick the bite gently. His half-lidded eyes stared as his saliva closed the punctures, slightly discolored flesh covering the mating bite mark.
Your eyes felt heavy and you were tired, but his cock was still hard even after finishing…
"Can- can I-?" 
You closed your eyes. "Mhm, if it'll make you feel better…"
His arms let up a little, laying his forehead between your shoulder blades. "You're tired…" 
There was no use denying it. "Yes. But, doesn't it hurt?" You rolled your hips experimentally; his hands gripped your body tighter as if to stop you.
"We can stay like this… I don't mind," he said, his cock twitching. Giyuu rolled you both onto your sides, staying inside. The movement made your inner muscles spasm and he bucked his hips. "Fuck… perhaps, only a little…" 
In contrast to his pace before, he rocked into you gently and slowly, letting you feel every inch without overwhelming you.
"This okay?" he asked in a strained voice. You only hummed in response, enjoying the intimacy.
Giyuu spilled his seed twice more into you as you half-dozed in his warm embrace, letting out a high pitched whine once in a while at the overstimulation, yet he could not stop - not until you were overfilled and it was seeping out around his dick.
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You must have drifted off at some point, the next thing you remembered was Giyuu kissing your shoulder gently, muttering, “Mhm, good morning… or evening.” 
You sighed out, relaxing in the warmth of his embrace. “How you feelin’?”
“Perfectly fine, or at least a little better,” he whispered, nuzzling into you.
You were sore, and the stickiness of dried sweat and cum on you started to bother you quickly. You wanted a shower. 
You tapped his arm with your finger and made to move away from him.
“No, no, don’t move yet,” his voice was strained as his cock twitched inside of you. “I won’t be able to control myself-”
You smiled tiredly and arched your back a bit, pushing your ass against him.
“Ye-es, fuck-” His hips rutted forward, muttering “Yes, yes, yes-” like a mantra, his arms tightening around you as he chased his pleasure inside of you yet again, his and your cum from before enough lubrication for what he did.
Your muscles were sore but you let him do as he pleased, his moans and heavy breathing making you feel hot all over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish but you didn’t mind, his noises bringing you a delight of its own.
Your hand came up to caress his arms gently as he fucked you, a whine leaving his throat at the tender touch, the next few thrusts sloppier and more forceful before he slammed as deep as he could with a shaky groan. Heat filled you again as he came.
You smiled widely as he panted, pulling out and making his seed spill over your thighs.
His hold became looser as he pressed soft kisses on your back and shoulders. “Sorry…”
You hummed, “There is no need to apologize. I could use a shower though, you coming with me?”
“Yes.” Giyuu opened his arms as you stood up. You were grateful your floors weren’t covered by a carpet, so any splatters his semen would make could be mopped up. 
After a long hot shower, where he made sure to knead your muscles and wash your back for you gently, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, your tummy rumbling with hunger.
Perhaps Giyuu needed some meat too? 
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It was nearly two months later when you could attend another DR meetup (15th, you missed one during that time due to a deadline you nearly forgot). You’d kept in contact with Tanjiro, quickly becoming close friends as he complained about managing Muzan and you about ‘adulting’. 
You didn’t reveal the fact that you started sleeping with Giyuu. After that first night, it seemed as if a dam had broken, and he became clingy and needy for you nearly every chance he got, going as far as distracting you during work with neck kisses and warming your pussy with his cock. 
It was not all about the sex either, he started going with you when you went out to shop for groceries, no matter the time of the day, keeping close to you like a dark protector and glaring at anyone who dared to look at you wrong.
You thought it was strange but let it be. He wasn’t harming anyone so it was probably fine.
“If it isn’t [Name]!” Tanjiro greeted you with a hug, earning him a low hiss from Giyuu. Tanjiro offered him a handshake, which Giyuu took, but you could see the amount of effort he had to spend to not crush Tanjiro’s hand, making you laugh a little. It was cute how protective he was of you.
Muzan was arguing with Douma, the pale blond demon from last time, a few steps away from the Kamado family, while Nezuko tried to drag him back to the organizers. Douma was smiling as his own owner - a ginger-haired woman - hugged him from behind to pull him away. 
You spent a small while talking to each of the Kamado siblings, asking about school and such, when Muzan joined your little group.
He took one look at you and scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe you mated with that loser.”
Everything stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”
He rolled his gleaming red eyes in annoyance. “Are you stupid? Your loser of a demon, you mated with him.” Muzan shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at you down his nose.
You could only blink a few times, slowly turning to Giyuu.
“I- what?”
Giyuu had an innocently impassive look on his face, as if nothing was wrong. You could see, however, with your trained eye that there was a bright blush adorning his ears and a drop of sweat disappearing under his collar. He remained silent.
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AN: I want to credit the idea for Muzan as a bratty demon of the Kamado family to @sunandflame because she was the first one who came up with it, among other ideas we brainstormed while talking about this at first.
I'm a bitch so there will be part 2 in the far future when I get the horny for it.
dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear (I love you, Rhy)
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erendur · 29 days ago
Text
The Gil-Galad choice
You know the Peredhil choice ?
Well, let's imagine that in light of a. his dubious parentage (somebody somewhere must know the truth, but they won't tell) and b. his long and honourable service as High King of the Noldor and also c. his heroic deeds, a reembodied Gil-Galad is also given a choice : he gets to choose to which branch of the Finwean family he is going to officially belong.
So one sunny day in Tirion (they are all sunny, it's Valinor and it's boring, but they have chosen that particular day so), all assemble in the grand public square in the middle of the city, in which Prince Fëanáro had once memorably threatened his brother Prince Ñolofinwë with a sword and on another occasion called the Noldor to rebellion and also sworn an Oath (nothing much happened there after that), to hear the head of each of the three Houses of the Sons of King Finwë present to Gil-Galad their arguments as to why he should chose them.
The current King of the Noldor, Arafinwë, goes first.
He is feeling a bit light-headed and jittery, because the poor guy has been in charge of what was left of the Noldor after the departure of the exiles, had to manage the de-Fëanárification process (see there), the tense relations with the Vanyar (while being himself part-Vanyar - awkward), the even more tense relations with the Falmari (his wife is a Falmar - awkward doesn't even start to cover it), and as if that wasn't enough has also had to manage the thickening stream of reembodied Noldor coming back to Valinor over the centuries - and these guys range from the frankly annoying (won't shut up about their war exploits, sing inappropriate songs in public, have adopted weird, Avarin/Mannish ways) to the downright terrifying (you'd think the reembodied Fëanorians and you wouldn't be wrong, but Arafinwë is particularly appalled by the crazed look in the eyes of some of his son Finrod's followers).
In short, the only reason why Arafinwë hasn't had a burn-out yet is because it's technically impossible in Valinor, and his body is betraying him by holding on. He sees a vague window of opportunity there : maybe Gil-Galad will want the crown ???? And will manage the Noldor for him ??? After all a lot of the recent arrivals are his people !!!! And Arafinwë can take his wife to the sea-side (away from any Falmari settlement) and have a good 500 (Valian)year-long nap !!!!!
"Oh, wise Gil-Galad, the echoes of your wisdom and of your proud and determined leadership of our people have of course made their way to us..." Arafinwë starts.
Gil-Galad immediately takes three steps back. He knows the over-eager look in Arafinwë's eye. He's been fooled once. He won't be fooled twice. He is staying the hell out of crown-throwing distance.
"And, er, I would be honoured and proud to count you as a member of my House, where your, er, wise advice ? Would be most appreciated", Arafinwë keeps plodding on, the light in his eyes going progressively duller and duller as Gil-Galad's gaze remains stubbornly fixed somewhere in the general distance and his facial expression carefully arranged in a polite not-on-your-life expression.
"My son Felagund and his wife Amarië would be most eager to welcome you among us as well", here Arafinwë points in the general direction of what looks like a tall mound of golden hair and jewellery, topped with a couple of live snakes, that on closer inspection reveals itself to be a smiling Findaráto.
He waves enthusiastically in the direction of Gil-Galad. His equally golden-haired and bejewelled wife does the same. They both wear late-Númenorean fashion (as in, the latest in Númenorean fashion before the boats stopped going there) which, to Valinorean eyes, make them look like the equivalent of pot-smoking hippies, but their friendly appearance is canceled out by the feral looks of Felagund's followers, all of them dressed in some form of forest/jungle tactical camouflage, some with added wolf pelts, others with live poison-dart frogs jumping on their shoulders (and hair accessories that look suspiciously like darts), and with facial expressions worthy of later-stages Fëanorians (they've seen the darkness. They liked it). Gil-Galad waves back weakly.
"And, er, you might also have heard of my sons Angaráto and Aikanáro ?" Arafinwë continues in an even more depressed voice than before.
Two buff-looking golden-haired Elves, one vaguely fiery-looking, wave in Gil-Galad's direction. They look nice and fierce but he has literally zero idea who they are. Still, he waves back a bit more enthusiastically. "And of course, you know well my daughter, Artanis", finishes Arafinwë, a bit more enthusiastically.
Gil-Galad gives a little shudder there. He does know her well indeed.
Arafinwë goes back to his seat, looking like he needs a nap more than ever. His wife gives him a sympathetic look. Looks like today is another day he won't manage to get rid of that damn crown.
Ñolofinwë stands up next.
He's a bit the worse for wear (for an Elf) because the night before was the Crossing of the Ice evening, a bi-weekly event during which veterans of the crossing of the Helcaraxë meet up to commemorate the crossing of the Ice (they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one, drink a lot and sometimes cross the ice over the Tirion river when they have managed to pester a Maia enough that they have conjured up some - not to be mistaken with the Dagor Aglareb night, a weekly event commemorating the Dagor Aglareb, during which they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one and drink a lot, or the Siege of Angband night, a weekly event commemorating the Siege of Angband, during which they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one and drink a lot - all of which celebrations end up in the small hours of the morning when a very tired-looking Arafinwë, cloak hastily thrown over his nightclothes, drags himself out of bed to politely ask them to go home). Ñolofinwë is very bored to have nothing much to do after having been High King for so long, and therefore consistently organises attends every single one of these celebrations.
"My dear chum", Ñolofinwë starts in a booming voice that fails to be entirely patronising only because it is still slightly hoarse from the recent celebrations, "I think you and I will see eye to eye. You know, of course, of my own paltry feats of arms."
Here Ñolofinwë stops to let off a short, self-deprecating laugh, which, like the word "chum", he thinks makes him look likeable and approachable by the common Noldorin soldier.
"How I lead my people through the dangers and harshness of the Helcaraxë, how I was unanimously chosen as the leader of my people, how I came up with the idea of, and maintained, the siege of Angband against impossible odds, how I and my people won the glorious Dagor Aglareb, how I personally challenged the Enemy in a single duel and gave him wounds from which he suffers to this day."
At that point almost every member of the assistance that is not a close personal follower of Ñolofinwë is rolling their eyes. Yes, he has been a very heroic Elf, but hearing about it non-stop for an entire Age and a half has kind of worn everybody's patience out (especially hearing about it sung at the top of some very drunk Elf-lords' lungs in the small hours of the morning).
Gil-Galad looks a bit taken aback by the familiarity of the tone (NO ONE has ever called him "chum" in his life before - and he's been patronised aplenty in the Second Age by the superb Númenorean descendants of Elros, the half-feral Peredhel whose education he'd thankfully considerably polished before he became the first King of Númenor).
"You've also heard, no doubt, about the deeds of my son, Findekáno, who would give you a warm welcome among our family and join his voice to mine to express how much in your environment a renowned warrior like you would be among us, if he could."
There's a slightly awkward silence there. Everybody knows that unlike his Father, Findekáno doesn't like to hear, and much less talk, about anything that happened in Beleriand, and furthermore suffers from severe agoraphobia due to the manner of his demise, hence his absence from the city square on that day.
"But my son Arakáno is here ! And you know of course of his deeds in Lammoth !"
A tall, dark-haired, stern-looking Elf nods slightly in Gil-Galad's direction. Never much one for smiling, he always looks particularly sour on the days after the bi-weekly Crossing the Ice celebrations, for some reason (his father has never managed to figure out why).
"And, er, my daughter Írissë is also...there", Ñolofinwë adds, a bit falteringly, his eyes scanning the crowd until they finally manage to locate his daughter - Oh, Eru - in the middle of the scant Fëanorian crowd, a smirk on her lips as she sits provocatively on her cousin Tyelkormo's lap, clad in her usual all-white hunting outfit.
She raises her eyebrows and waves at her father, then at Gil-Galad, who does his best not to stare. Oh, dear.
"And my son Turukáno has also made us the welcome surprise to get out of his house and join us today", adds Ñolofinwë acidly. "He is of course the grandfather of the hero Eärendil, as well as the great-grandfather of the first King of Númenor and, er, your former herald, Eirinion", he concludes with more warmth.
Gil-Galad waves at a slightly embarrassed-looking Turukáno, a tight smile on his lips. Elrond is of course his dearest, closest friend, and he has some fond memories of Elros of course, but both of them, and principally the former, are the main reason why his hair went prematurely silver, and responsible for enough headaches over the course of an Age that he had worry lines etched onto his face pre-reembodiment, and while he loves them very much he does not much fancy getting into an even closer relationship with them.
Ñolofinwë sits back down next to his wife, and it's now the turn of the Fëanorians to present their case. Of course, their very presence in the city square on that day has been frowned upon - they rarely leave their settlement of Formenos, much to everyone's delight, and the very idea that they could have a right to present their claim has raised many eyebrows. But they don't have peace and reconciliation processes and committees for nothing, and Manwë had ruled that they should have the right to present their case as well as the others.
It's a surprisingly sprightly-looking Maitimo that jumps to his feet to speak in the name of his House. His father, while reembodied, has been confined to an uninhabited region North of Formenos, where he lives alone with his wife (in between visits from their children and grandchild), who voluntarily decided to accompany him, and spends his days between working in his ever-sprawling forge and trying to convince his wife to have an eighth child (he is nowhere nearer to winning that argument than since he'd started it a few hundred years prior), and never comes to Tirion (Ñolofinwë is half-relieved, half-sad - and bored).
"Eirinion, I have been charged today by my brother Curufinwë, King of the Noldor of Formenos, to convey an invitation to come and reside there as a member of our family, which his official duties sadly prevent him from delivering in person." Maitimo smirks there.
The reason his brother Curufinwë, King of the Noldor of Formenos (the crown has be attributed on a "Oh, you wanted a crown, didn't you ??? Well, here's one ! Be my guest ! YOU are in charge of that troop of bloodthirsty crazy lunatics now !" basis) is unable to attend the meeting is because the Valar have strictly forbidden for the Noldor of Formenos (read : hardcore Fëanorians) to be left unattended at any time, and Curufinwë, as the one in charge, has therefore to remain there. He is also barred from public speaking. And the toilet in the public square of Formenos was clogged (it's part of his kingly duties to take care of it).
"Now, we might not have almost-met under the most auspicious of circumstances back in Beleriand. And the actions of my family and my faction have been indefensible," he pauses long enough to glare at the small group of Fëanorians at his back, daring them to make a protest. No one seems particularly inclined to.
"So of course, we don't have much to offer to tempt you to join us. What do we have, indeed ? A far-out of the way, small settlement, in which people mostly mind their own business. Nothing much to do there, except try on my father's latest inventions, which do not always work at the first try - it took him two goes to get the electricity working in the whole of Formenos, and that revolutionary de-greying hair product he invented was very underwhelming at first. I'm not going to lie, there is no chance that you would ever get any sort of political responsibilities, or even be asked for advice there - my brother Curunfinwë is 100% in sole charge there of dealing with each and any problem that arises, with additional help from my brother Tyelkormo. I - I mean, the Valar, - insist on it. As for grand celebrations of our proud military past, or any current martial activities, you can well imagine that they are entirely out of the question there. There is actually a ban on them."
Maitimo pauses there for a second, deep in thought. "Of course, you also have probably formed a very poor opinion of us, based on the Peredhil situation. Know that we tried our best. All I can say is that they used to bite even more."
He pauses again, and gives Gil-Galad a wry smile. Gil-Galad shudders for the second time on that day.
"What else could I add ?" One of his brothers stands up and whispers something in his ear.
"Oh yes, and Moryo makes THE BEST cookies."
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partycatty · 10 months ago
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Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙
ofcccc love
kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight
uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))
notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF
masterlist <3
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kenshi >
kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.
he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.
you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?
"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."
you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.
you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.
then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.
"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.
his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.
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syzoth >
he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.
"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.
"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.
he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.
as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.
"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."
syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.
you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.
"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."
syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.
you make him nervous, and that's really cute.
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johnny >
johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.
"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.
his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!
what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.
he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.
johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.
you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.
"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."
"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.
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liu kang >
he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.
liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.
that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.
he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.
liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.
"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."
liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.
geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.
"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"
geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.
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30somethingautisticteacher · 5 months ago
Text
The Dry Spell
It's fairly common knowledge that first responders work long shifts together, often 24 or 48 hours at a time. This kind of togetherness builds strong bonds and makes it nearly impossible to keep secrets. Which was why the entire station seemed to know that Buck and Tommy were in a bit of a dry spell right now.
Buck was in the locker room, changing after a particularly grueling shift. He didn't mean to start venting, but Hen had asked how things were going at home, and before he knew it, he was spilling his guts.
"I mean, it's been over 3 weeks," Buck said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And yes, partially it's been us having opposite schedules, but it hasn't only been that. It's just...3 weeks. I'm starting to go crazy."
Hen nodded sympathetically, leaning against the lockers. "That's rough, Buckaroo. Have you talked to Tommy about it?"
Buck sighed, closing his locker with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. "I've tried, but every time I bring it up, something comes up. A call, Emmett needs something, one of us is too tired... It's like the universe is conspiring against us."
He lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. "And the worst part? I'm turned on like, all the time now. It's getting ridiculous. Yesterday, I got distracted during dinner because Tommy reached across the table for the salt. The salt, Hen!"
Hen tried to suppress a smile, but failed. "Oh, Buck. You've got it bad."
"I know," Buck groaned. "It's like I'm a teenager again. I can't focus. Every little thing Tommy does is suddenly the hottest thing I've ever seen. This morning, he was just getting ready for his shift, putting on his flight suit, and I nearly lost it."
"Maybe you two need to schedule some alone time," Chimney chimed in as he walked into the locker room. "You know, make it a priority."
Buck flushed red. "Chim! How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to know you're about to combust," Chimney teased. "Seriously though, Buck. Talk to your husband. I'm sure he's feeling it too."
Buck nodded, trying to ignore the embarrassment creeping up his neck. "Yeah, you're right. I just... I miss him, you know? Not just the physical stuff, but the intimacy, the connection. Though right now, I wouldn't say no to the physical stuff either." Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and a sly grin spread across his face. "Wait a minute, Chim. Does this mean you're offering to babysit Emmett?"
Chimney's eyes widened as he realized the implication of his advice. "I, uh..."
Hen burst out laughing. "Oh, he's got you there, Chim! You can't give advice without being willing to back it up."
Chimney sighed dramatically, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, fine. Maddie and I can take Emmett for a night. But I don't want to hear any details, got it?"
Buck's face lit up. "Chim, you're a lifesaver! I promise, no details. Just... thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," Chimney waved him off, but he was smiling. Just make it count, Buckaroo."
Buck's blush deepened, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Finally, a chance for some alone time with Tommy. Now he just had to make it through his shift without spontaneously combusting at the thought.
It took everything in Buck's power not to speed home. As soon as he walked through the door, he called out, "Tommy!"
"In the kitchen, babe," Tommy's voice replied.
Buck rushed into the kitchen, his eyes wild with excitement. "Pack Emmett a bag. We gotta go!"
Tommy turned from the stove, spatula in hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Slow down. What are you talking about?"
"Sex," Buck blurted out, his cheeks flushing. "Lots of sex. So much sex."
Tommy's eyebrows shot up, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Interesting, but I'm still not sure I follow."
Buck took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to explain coherently. "Okay, so I may have been venting at work about our... dry spell. And Chimney offered to babysit Emmett for the night so we could have some alone time."
Understanding dawned on Tommy's face, followed quickly by a mischievous grin. "Oh, I see. And you're in such a hurry because...?"
"Because," Buck said, stepping closer to Tommy, his voice dropping low, "I've been going crazy thinking about you all day. Do you know how distracting you are? This morning, watching you put on your flight suit... I nearly lost it right there."
Tommy's eyes darkened with desire. "Is that so?" he murmured, setting down the spatula and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist.
"Mhmm," Buck hummed, leaning in for a kiss. "I've been imagining all the things I want to do to you once we're alone."
Just as their lips were about to meet, they heard the patter of little feet.
"Daddy! Papa!" Emmett's voice called out.
They broke apart, both chuckling but with heat still in their eyes. "I'll go pack his bag," Tommy said, pressing a quick kiss to Buck's cheek. "You go tell him he's having a sleepover with Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chim."
As Tommy headed upstairs, Buck called after him, "I'll text Maddie to pick him up. The sooner they get here..."
Tommy paused at the top of the stairs, throwing a smoldering look over his shoulder. "The sooner we can pick up where we left off."
Buck grinned, anticipation coursing through him. "Exactly."
As they separated to prepare for their evening, both men felt a surge of excitement. Buck quickly sent a text to Maddie, asking if they could pick Emmett up as soon as possible. Then he went to find their son, his mind already racing with thoughts of what the night would bring once they were alone.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Buck opened it to find Maddie, Chimney, and Jee-Yun.
"Uncle Buck!" Jee exclaimed, hugging his legs.
"Hey there, munchkin," Buck said, ruffling her hair. "Thanks for coming so quickly, guys."
Chimney raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face. "No problem. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting."
Buck felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, Tommy appeared with Emmett and his overnight bag.
As they said their goodbyes to Emmett, promising to pick him up tomorrow afternoon, Buck and Tommy exchanged heated glances. The moment the door closed behind Maddie, Chimney, and the kids, Tommy turned to Buck, his eyes dark with desire.
"Now," Tommy said, his voice low and full of promise, "where were we?"
Buck lunged forward, capturing Tommy's lips in a searing kiss. Their bodies pressed together, and both men groaned at the contact, feeling the evidence of each other's arousal.
"Tommy," Buck gasped, breaking the kiss. "I need you. It's been too long."
Tommy's hands roamed Buck's back, pulling him even closer. "I know, baby. I've missed you too."
As they stumbled into their bedroom, Buck couldn't take his eyes off Tommy. The need to touch, to feel, to taste was overwhelming. Without breaking eye contact, Buck slowly sank to his knees in front of Tommy, his intentions clear.
Tommy's breath hitched, his eyes dark with desire. "Evan," he breathed, voice rough with want.
Buck's hands trembled as he reached for Tommy's belt. "Please," he murmured, "I need this. Need you."
Tommy cupped Buck's face gently, his touch a stark contrast to the urgency thrumming through both their bodies. "We've got all night, baby. Let's take our time, ok?"
Buck nodded, but didn't move from his position. The anticipation was electric, every nerve ending on fire. As Tommy's fingers carded through his hair, Buck leaned forward, ready to show his husband just how much he'd missed him.
They had hours ahead of them to reconnect, to relearn each other's bodies, to make up for lost time. And they intended to savor every moment.
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softguarnere · 11 months ago
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Something He Can't Have
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Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader
A/N: Not me falling back into one of my oldest hyperfixations after watching the movies this past week for Christmas 🥴 I honestly don't know what to say for myself, other than that I had fun writing this and it may have single-handedly saved me from my recent writing slump. Anyway, hope y'all like this, byeeee ✨💕 Warnings: none
Lucy lets out a groan that sounds so annoyed that it instantly draws Edmund back into the present moment. “Can I ple-ease say something now?” She asks Susan, who sits to her left at the banquet table.
Susan shushes her, but there’s no malice behind it. In fact, when she does allow a disheartened look to grace her face, she directs it toward Edmund. “No. I suppose we shouldn’t meddle.”
They’ve captured his interest. Which is something that seems nearly impossible, considering that he’s spent so much of this banquet staring at Peter and (Y/N) on the dance floor, watching his older brother enjoy dance after dance with her. And trying hard not to take it too personally when (Y/N) throws back her head to laugh every now and then at something that Peter has said. Usually, she only laughs like that at his jokes, and usually only when they’re alone together.
If Peter is making her come undone, allowing her to feel comfortable outside of the carefully crafted polite and diplomatic persona that (Y/N) has created for herself to use in Cair Paravel’s court, then she’s become relaxed with him. And who knows where that will lead?
“What are you talking about?” For good measure, Edmund tosses one last glance at the dance floor before turning his attention to his sisters.
“That!” Lucy exclaims, gesturing between Edmund and the crowd that swirl on the floor before them. “This!”
Edmund raises an eyebrow. “The ball?”
His younger sister groans, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, I give up!”
“Edmund,” Susan says sternly. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved, but this has gone on long enough.” For a split second, the gentle queen loses her composure, though only ever so slightly. “I mean, for God’s sake! It’s downright painful to watch!”
Still confused, Edmund isn’t sure what to say that will clarify whatever his sisters are talking about without further upsetting them. Instead, he settles for biting his lip, glancing between his sisters and the dancing, trying to work out their meaning himself.
Susan sighs, turning to Lucy. “He’s either a better actor than we give him credit for, or he’s downright daft.”
“Help me out here,” Edmund says.
“(Y/N)!” Lucy hisses, leaning across Susan so that she can scold her brother without causing too much unwanted attention. “You’ve been following her around all lovesick for ages now, but you haven’t done anything. And now you’re all jealous watching her dance with Peter.”
“Am not!”
Lucy swats his arm. “You’ve been staring at them all night. If you like her so much, then you better do something before you lose her forever!”
In other situations, Susan might chide the youngest Pevensie sibling, telling her that she’s being a bit overdramatic before offering Edmund some sort of good-natured advice. Edmund looks to her expectantly, only to find her brown eyes full of disappointment; she agrees with Lucy.
“We can all agree that you wear green better than any other, Ed,” she says. “But jealousy is not a shade that suits you.”
“Me? Jealous?! Of who?”
But his sisters only fix him with knowing looks. It makes Edmund want to wither away from existence on the spot. He spent most of their lives before Narnia being jealous of Peter. It’s been hard, but it’s something that he’s worked on since they were crowned. He really thought that he had overcome it. Now, though, his sisters’ words, coupled with the funny feeling in his stomach . . . He feels like a man, trapped, full of guilt, and caught in the middle of something very private. Which innocent people with nothing to hide do not feel in situations like these.
I fancy (Y/N), he realizes, admitting it to himself for the first time. It feels demeaning, somehow, to put a label on the feelings that he’s been harboring in secret for so long. And I’m jealous because she likes Peter more than me, says the next one, which makes him feel even worse.
A warm hand takes hold of his and squeezes. For all the annoyance that Lucy has felt toward him in these past few minutes, she offers him nothing but a kind look and encouraging smile. “You have to do something, Ed.”
“I – “ The words clog in his throat, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to find some of the air which has suddenly become very scarce. As you spin by on the dance floor, Edmund can see how you’re smiling at Peter like he hung the moon, and how his older brother beams at you like you created all the stars. Who wouldn’t want to bask in the sun’s warmth like that? And what sort of evil would dare separate two people who appear to be so . . . so in love. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Susan reassures him. “Trust me, Ed.”
Edmund, however, can’t take his eyes off of you. “I can’t ruin that.”
“You won’t,” Susan says. And if Edmund had his wits about him, he would recognize that she says it with the tone of someone who is very sure of herself because she has access to information that no one else has. (She, after all, is your best friend. But facts like that tend to fall by the wayside in moments of intense anxiety such as this.) “Ed, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”
To unstick the words in his throat, Edmund reaches for his goblet and takes a swig of the drink from inside. If he’s really going to do this, he’ll need all the courage he can get, no matter where it comes from.
As the song ends, he pushes back his chair and begins to make his way around the table. Lucy squeals with delight from behind him, and both his sisters offer nods of encouragement and thumbs up when he turns back to them, unsure.
The next thing that he knows, he’s on the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to reach you –
He catches sight of you just as you excuse yourself from the dance floor. You disappear into the crowd before he can call out to you, though he reaches out a hand, like he might be able to catch you from afar.
“Edmund!” A well-meaning slap on the back announces Peter’s presence. His older brother throws an arm around his shoulders. He radiates heat after all that dancing. “I wondered when you might join us on the dance floor.”
“I’m not. I’m just looking for (Y/N).”
Peter’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth are devastating news. “I believe that she’s retiring for the night.”
“Oh?”
“She said that she needed some air, that she might go to bed.”
As one of Narnia’s kings, Edmund is inclined to stay present for the majority of this banquet. You, being a courtier, are free to go as you please, seeing as there are no diplomatic negotiations, no fates of any nations, resting on your shoulders. If things were different, he would find a way to go after you.
And he’s actually looking for an excuse to do so when Peter says something that makes him stop.
“I wish she would have stayed,” the High King sighs. “We were having such a good time.”
Edmund nods, hands involuntarily clenching into fists at his sides. His voice feels hollow when he replies, “It looked like you were having a good time.”
“I was thinking – “ A laugh cuts Peter off as he shakes his head, looking half embarrassed, half giddy. “I was actually just about to ask her to be my – my girlfriend.” On the last word, something most unusual happens – the High King blushes. Actually blushes! Who would have known that such a thing was possible?
To say that it catches Edmund off guard would be an understatement. He’s never seen Peter so vulnerable . . . so happy. It makes Edmund’s mouth go dry. He and Peter have had their differences throughout their lives, but he can’t just ruin his older brother’s chance at happiness.
“Oh.” Is all that Edmund can think to say. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’ll say?”
Peter laughs, breathlessly, happily. “Well, I’m hoping that she’ll say yes, of course. In fact – “ He glances in the direction that you disappeared in. “ – I would go talk to her now, if not for my responsibilities.”
“Go,” Edmund finds himself saying. He can feel Peter’s look of surprise mirrored on his own face. But if Peter is going to do this, if this is all really happening, he’d honestly rather get it over with. “I’ll cover for you here.”
Now it’s Peter who hesitates. After a moment, his face breaks into a wide smile. He claps Edmund on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ed.”
I wish I were better, the Just King thinks as he watches his older brother chase after the girl that they both love.  
From the banquet table, Lucy and Susan are giving him confused looks. Edmund only shrugs, then quietly rejoins them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to explain what’s just happened. He recedes into himself, letting the party whirl by without him.
If only he were paying attention – then he would see the knowing look on Susan’s face.
. . .
It’s late when the banquet ends, and later still when Edmund slips into the library. He’s exhausted, but his mind is racing and won’t let him sleep. You and Peter had disappeared from the banquet hours ago. That’s plenty of time for his brother to have confessed to you and for you to have accepted. Dread fills him at the thought of the two of you happily announcing your new relationship the next morning at breakfast. He’ll have to face the two of you sometime, to muscle through his own pain and begin navigating a world where he has to accept that you’re in love with his older brother. But tonight, he can be amongst his books, which are a comfort.
He's so distracted that he doesn’t immediately notice you sitting by the fireplace, an open book on your lap, but a distracted look on your face as you watch the flames dance before you.
“Oh,” you both exclaim at the same time when you notice each other. The synchronicity makes you both laugh.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologizes.
“I didn’t mean to take your hiding spot,” you say in turn. You shut your book, but Edmund holds out a hand to stop you.
“You don’t have to leave on my account.”
You squint, studying him for a second, before nodding and settling back into the cushions behind you. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Carefully, Edmund takes a seat opposite you, gazing into the fire to gather his nerve. He didn’t expect to find you here. Didn’t expect to find you looking so . . . distracted and lonely as you stare into the fire, your book forgotten. He really shouldn’t pry. But you’re his friend, first and foremost, and he doesn’t want that to change. “Is everything alright?”
Delicate fingers pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh, collecting yourself before looking up at him through the firelight.
“Peter asked me to be his girlfriend,” you confess. Though the library is quiet, your voice is dull, hard to hear. You do not look as joyful as he imagined you would when delivering this news.
“Oh,” Edmund offers. He fumbles for words. You look upset, so he can’t congratulate you. But then again, he’s not sure if he should console you.
You stare at him for a moment, studying him just as intently as he’s studying you. “I said no,” you finally explain.
“Oh,” Edmund says again, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m . . . sorry?” Except that he’s really not. He feels quite relieved, if he’s being honest with himself.
Your brows furrow. He’s said the wrong thing, but he’s not sure where he went wrong.
“I said no,” you repeat. “Because I have feelings for someone else.”
Edmund’s heart, only on the mend for a split second, plummets. “Oh. I see.”
“No you don’t,” you scoff. “Edmund, you’re the one I have feelings for! Have you really not noticed by now?”
The words echo through the still library. They hang between you for a moment. A glorious, albeit confusing, moment where Edmund can do nothing but stare at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly. Narnia is a magical place, but there’s no way that you could have said the very thing that he would do anything to hear.
“You do?” His voice comes so quietly that when you don’t immediately reply, he worries that maybe he hasn’t spoken at all.
“Yes. And for quite some time, I might add.”
“But – “ Images of the night swirl in his mind. You had danced with Peter for ages, looking so happy. Everyone likes Peter. They always have. And much, much more than they like Edmund. To say that you have feelings for him . . . “Why?”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . Everyone likes Peter. He always gets what he wants.”
Even in the dim glow of the firelight, he can see your gaze soften.
“Oh, Edmund.” You leave your seat, coming closer to him. He rises, meeting you halfway, so that the two of you are standing together in front of the fire. Gently, you take his hand, intwining your fingers. Your hand is warm in his. You squeeze, and on instinct, he squeezes back. “That’s not true.”
“What’s not?”
“People like you, too. I like you.” Your grip tightens on his hand. “And Peter doesn’t always get what he wants. I know something he can’t have.”
“What’s that?”
A smile tugs at your lips when you gaze up at him and say, “He can’t have this.”
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simplyreveries · 11 months ago
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Can I request Lilia, Malleus, and Ortho (platonic for Ortho obviously) x a reader who puts on an act of being a “perfect girl” and always happy but in reality is quite depressed (in the sense where it feels like where their feelings should be is just an empty slot.)? Not forcing you to do this of course ^^
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lilia vanrouge
he would lightly jest and tease you all the time— as he can see right through you and your attitude. lilia is definitely someone who you can easily allow yourself to let loose and be more of yourself around him. he always pops up randomly and finds you, usually its surprising and he’ll be doing it some strange way hanging from a ceiling giving you some mischievous smile aha and ask “what's with the sorrowful mood, dear?” despite not showing it, he just has that sense.
you can deny it with a smile all you want but it's nearly impossible to hide anything from this guy. he only shakes his head with a smile at your persistence. thinks your attempts are silly but he wont keep on pushing, he usually prompts to doing things that will make you more comfortable to drop the whole act— he does it in a fun but loving way. he will make it his ultimate goal to make it feel like you can at least tell him anything!
and the time you finally decide to feel more okay sharing how you really feel, he’ll smile slightly even, in a more comforting and sweet way that you're opening up to him. he’ll consider himself quite special. “oh love, that wasn't so difficult was it…?” he’ll let you let out your feelings and emotions however long you want (he’ll tell you he’ll spend the whole night by your side comforting you if he has to and honestly you have to shut that down because he wasn't joking.)
malleus draconia
whenever you and him had your nightly chats outside ramshackle during the cold nights he had always caught some glimpse of you getting tired and stressed with your current situation and letting your act slip— seeing more of what the real you is. he’ll tilt his head slightly, looking down at you and listening quite intently. he does try to give his own advice to help alleviate your troubles.
he would never point out how different you seem when talking to him at night in the privacy of the two of you— in comparison to the bright and confident person you seem to portray yourself as to always be when he sees during the day when you're out and with the others like ace and deuce. he just silently watches and continues to listen and talk to you. he doesn't fully understand you at first, but he wants you to be happy.
malleus is someone you really can lean on… like literally. you could be sitting or standing next to him and feel like its hard and want to lean against him and he will always welcome you to. he loves it if anything, he’ll place a hand on the small of your back or the side of your head in a comforting manner and remind you “youre okay, dearest”
ortho shroud
may have accidentally exposed you once when he was “scanning” once and reading your mood and he asked you why you were so upset? he seemed genuinely concerned though and listed off something you can do to “improve your mood easily!” he's just trying to look out for you haha. he doesn't fully understand yet that you're trying to pretend to be someone you're not.
ortho is used to having to push his brother a little when it comes to being less of a recluse and trying to help him out— he’ll help you too, if you’ll let him. I feel like because he doesn't fully see it it'd take him actually catching you letting yourself slip when no one is around. since then, he would go out of his way to see you daily at school during the day and try to at least cheer you up.
he does feel like someone you genuinely can talk to despite not necessarily being human himself he can be as understanding as he can be with the knowledge he knows. and like i said he’s used to idia’s withdrawn and depressed behavior at times as well. you'll just always seem to have him find you somewhere and his energy makes it hard to really seem sad. he care's a lot about his friends!
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phoward89 · 6 months ago
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Masterlist
Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Soft!Dom!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, Cuckold, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child
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Part 3:
Your first night home’s an experience, to say the least. The baby cries a lot and you're the only one tending to him. Crassus has no intentions of helping you. In fact, he already made it clear on the ride home that as his wife; as the mother of his son it's your job to take care of the newborn. That his job's to be the provider; not the nurturer.
Grandma'am gave you some advice on how often to feed baby Cassian and even showed you how to swaddle him, but other than that she wasn't going to be changing his diapers or soothing him in the middle of the night. Between her being a bit hard of hearing in one ear and old, well, she'd be out like a light once she went to bed.
And Coryo…
Ha, any help you thought you'd get from him on your first night home with the baby never happened.
In fact, Coryo wanted his ‘mommy’ to help him out with a very hard problem.
You had just managed to calm Cassian down after feeding and changing him whenever Coryo entered the nursery, which was actually Tigris' old room. You hear his footsteps and turn around, only to smile when you see him. You think he's here to help you.
But how could you know that's not the case?
“Coryo, I just put him down. But we can sit down in the rocker and watch him for a bit.” You tell Coriolanus as he shuts the door and locks it before making his way over to you.
But you don't see the slight flick of his wrist when he locks the door tho. No, you think he's in the nursery to genuinely see your son; not to get handsy with you.
Coryo comes up behind you, only to wrap his arms around you and press his bulge against your ass. “I'd like you to sit on my lap, mommy. But while you're riding my cock.” He tells you while pressing open mouth kisses up and down your neck.
What? It's your first night home with a newborn and he wants to fuck! Seriously?...
Breaking his hold around you and turning to face him, you sigh, “I'm not fucking you tonight, Coryo.”
“Why not? It's been a few days since we've been able to.” Your platinum blonde boy asks, a slight pout to his lush lips.
“I just had a baby, that's why not.” You replied with exhaustion in your voice.
“But, mommy, I’m so hard and need you.” Coriolanus says in his subby tone, batting his lashes at you in an attempt to manipulate you into riding him on the chair nestled in the corner.
“I'm sorry, but we can't do anything.” You apologize, although you truly have nothing to apologize for. “Plus, the doctor says I have to wait 6 weeks, til I'm healed, to have sex again.” You add in for good measure once you see Coryo furrowed brow.
“It's going to take you that long to heal?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief. Two months, he has to go two months without fucking you. Oh, that was quite a long time. An impossible task given that he's used to fucking you a lot.
Not even waiting for you to give him an answer, he pulls you to him and starts lightly humping against your leg. Pawing at your boobs, that are swollen and full with milk, he suggests, “Then I suppose you'll just have to help me out by giving me a hand, or better yet using your mouth on me.”
“I'm not jerking you off or blowing you tonight, Coriolanus.” You tell him while pushing him off of you.
“But mommy, I need you. Don't you want to make your baby boy feel good?” Coriolanus pressed, sounding like a needy brat, as he grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on the hardness straining his pants.
“Coryo, I'm tired and I've been taking care of the baby all day. I'm honestly not in the mood to make you cum.” You tell your lover while pulling your hand away from his crotch.
“I'm tired too, but I can't sleep until I cum. I need to cum and I need you so bad.” Coriolanus needily told you, his icy eyes flashing with desperation and lust.
“You have a hand, Coriolanus, so use it.” You tell him, feeling your patience start to wane. Shaking your head, you sigh, “I'm going back to bed, you should too.”
“Oh, so you'd rather go to bed with my hateful father, who doesn't give a damn about you, then spend time with me- touch me and make me cum?” Coriolanus asked, a sting to his voice, as you pushed past him and went over to the door.
You just shook your head, unlocked the door, and exited the nursery. You're too tired to argue with Coryo right now.
As you walk down the hall towards the master bedroom that you share with Crassus, you hear the sound of the nursery door open and shut paired with Coriolanus' footsteps heading into the direction of his room. A room that was on the opposite end of the hall then yours.
And when you reach the master bedroom, you walk inside only to see your husband sound asleep. You notice how the sliver of moonlight streaming in thru a crack in the window curtains illuminates your husband's features; cast a glow on him that makes his face seem at ease- at peace.
When you join him in bed, he stirs and groggily asks, “‘S the baby settled?”
“Yes.” You nod against your pillow.
While pulling the blankets up around your shoulder, you heard your husband’s sleep laden voice order, “Go back to sleep, Y/N. And don't wake me next time.”
Of course, Crassus doesn't want you waking him up next time you have to tend to the baby in the middle of the night. Well, isn't he such a great husband? But you don't expect anything else from him since your husband's a cold, unfeeling, stern man.
Why should he care about you being exhausted from taking care of a newborn for the very first time? You're nothing to Crassus, but a young pretty thing that warms his bed; gave him another son. A son he'll probably ignore and ridicule like he does to Coriolanus.
There's nothing you can do about Crassus’ cold attitude, so you just close your eyes and tell him okay before letting sleep take hold of you.
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It's been a few days since you brought Cassian home and you're starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by being a new mom. Especially since you had no help from either your husband or your baby daddy.
Crassus is a workaholic so he’s walking out of the door before breakfast gets served and coming home just in time for dinner to be served. Coriolanus, well…he wasn't as helpful as you thought he'd be. In fact, Coryo's cut from the same cloth as his father.
Coriolanus is very ambitious and that trait has him rushing off to the University; essentially ignoring your pathetic sniffles and cries as you begin to feel overwhelmed with everything. And if he’s not at the University then he’s at Dr. Gaul's lab, doing his apprenticeship.
Coryo loves being the intern of the mad scientist because he’s able to thrive; able to showcase his talents and wits for riddles and creating mechanisms of psychological control. Working and learning underneath Dr. Gaul honed Coriolanus’ natural born abilities of manipulation and cunning. It also helps him learn how to control things around him, how to view living things, including the human citizens of Panem, as animals ranked on the food chain.
Yea…
Coriolanus Snow quite enjoys both his time at the University and his time studying under the mad scientist.
But you didn't enjoy it since it meant you didn't see him. It also meant that he’s too busy with his studies and securing a permanent job in Dr. Gaul's lab to do anything to help you with the baby.
Well, at least Grandma'am’s helping you and giving you advice about motherhood when she’s able to. But she's elderly and takes naps. Plus, she does like to visit the neighbor, Pluribus, to talk about the good old days before the war and you can't find it in your heart to ask her to stay home instead of taking her neighborly visits next door.
So, essentially it's just you and the baby.
And you're fine with that. Really, you are. So, then why are you so weepy and melancholy?
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It seems that you have the baby blues.
One day,after feeding and changing Cassian, you're in the sitting room having mid-morning tea with Grandma'am. You zone out as she's talking to you, staring into your tea cup while feeling the sudden urge to cry. And suddenly, the urge becomes a reality and you're a sniffling mess.
Wiping your tears, you apologize to her. “I'm sorry, Grandma'am. I don't know what's come over me all of a sudden.”
“Have you been feeling this way for a while, dear?” Your mother-in-law asks instead of accepting your apology.
“Yes,” You nod, starting to weep again. “And I don't know why.”
“Oh, my sweet dear, you have yourself a case of the baby blues.” Grandma'am tells you matter-of-factly. Patting your hand, she reveals, “I had them when I had your husband.” She gives you a sympathetic smile. “Don't you worry, it'll pass in time.”
You nod, sniffling and wiping your tears away with your free hand. At least now you know what's wrong with you.
“Thank you for telling me about why I'm feeling this way.” You gratefully smile, eyes sore and puffy from crying.
“Oh, Y/N, with your mother not being involved much it's my duty to tell you about the baby blues and other matters that relate to motherhood.”
As long as it wasn't spoken into existence, you could ignore your mother's lack of interaction when it came to you and your newborn son: Cassian. But now that your mother-in-law brought it up, well, you're feeling depressed and hollow at the reality that your mother doesn't care about you and your son enough to visit.
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It's late in the afternoon whenever Crassus walks thru the front door. He's not home early, but rather to grab an important document from his study that he needs for a meeting. A meeting that’s scheduled to start within a half hour. And he only realized that he forgot the document at home when he was going over his documents for the meeting; doing last minute preparations for speeches and presentations.
The house is quiet, given that his mother's asleep along with you and the baby; proving that all is well. Or at least he thinks all his well until he walks down the hall, towards his study, only to hear faint crying. Crassus can't help, but think that maybe the baby’s just woken up. So, he makes a mental note to check on the baby after retrieving his documents.
Crassus ignores the cries and enters his study. He shakes his head and chuckles to himself upon seeing the forgotten document on his desk. Oh, how foolish of him to have forgotten to place it in his briefcase the night before. He wasn't a forgetful or foolish person, so he figures his mind must've been too focused on making sure he had everything for today's meeting that he overlooked a single paper.
Once he places what he needs for his upcoming meeting in his leather briefcase, Crassus exits his office and goes to check on Cassian in the nursery. What he finds in his son's nursery is the baby sleeping in his crib, wrapped up like a little burrito in a swaddling blanket. Concluding that the crying’s not his son, he leaves the nursery.
Still hearing the faint cries in the air, he realizes that it's coming from the master bedroom he shares with you. Before he can even think, his feet are leading him to his bedroom. The door's cracked open, so you can hear the baby when he wakes up and cries, so Crassus peeks inside the room.
The cold, stern man sees you curled up in the corner of the room, head buried in your hands while leaning against your knees, crying. Your body's slightly shaking from your sobs.
Your husband backs away from the door, wondering why you're crying instead of taking a nap. Isn't it a known rule amongst mothers that they sleep when their baby sleeps? But you're not sleeping, you're in the corner crying.
What could have you so upset that you're a sobbing mess, curled up in the corner of the bedroom?
Crassus looks between the bedroom door and the hallway leading out into the main room of the penthouse. He debates on whether or not he should go into the bedroom and comfort you. But then he reminds himself that you're his wife, albeit sad and sobbing, because of an arranged marriage. That there's no love between the two of you, that you're marriage is one of convenience; that he doesn't owe you anything in the spectrum of emotions.
Crassus turns his back on his bedroom door, on you in your weepy, overwhelmed state, and walks down the hall and out of the penthouse. He picks work and his upcoming meeting over you.
But that's not a surprise, work means more to Crassus than you do.
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Crassus is sitting in the meeting room, a folder of documents open in front of him. His secretary, Leo Davis, is sitting right next to him- taking notes and such for the imposing, cold man. The men seated at the large table in the conference room are the heads of various departments of the Ministry of War. The meeting’s being held to discuss the the fiscal Q2 that's nearing its end and what must be done to meet KPI’s before the fiscal Q3 begins.
Crassus has already said a few things about the matter, so now he's listening to the other men talk. But, he's actually spacing out instead of listening to the department heads give their speeches and suggestions.
In fact, his mind keeps wandering to the image of you curled up in the corner of the bedroom, shaking and sobbing. He just can't get that image out of his head. It's as if it's seared in his brain.
Your cold and unfeeling husband can't help, but wonder what's why with you. Why you're breaking down in the late afternoon? Did he do something to upset you, and if so then what was it? Crassus doesn't spend much time with you, so he couldn't have done anything to make you sad- could he?
“Crassus, do you have anything to add to the matter?” The head of the Ministry of War’s Commissariat Department asked the head of the ministry's National Security Department.
Crassus didn't even hear what the matter was, he was too lost in his own thoughts, but he couldn't let the men at the meeting know that. So, he just shakes his head and says no.
The meeting goes on much like this until it's over. Everyone piles out of the meeting and goes to the elevator banks or the stairs to get back to the floors their offices are in.
After a quick elevator ride, Crassus and his secretary arrive back on their floor. Leo gives him the notes he took before going to his desk, which is located a few yards away from Crassus' office.
It was nearing 5 o’clock, the normal time for people with office jobs to clock out and leave. But, your husband was far from normal. He didn't work 9 to 5, instead he arrived early and left late. Crassus sure did rack up a lot of overtime hours; he was also viewed as a highly devoted and dedicated employee.
But in reality he's just a work-a-holic, no dedication involved.
Crassus, like every day at 5 o’clock, emerged from his office only to go to his secretary’s desk to announce that they're working late. “Leo, I need you to work late tonight.”
Leo, who was greatly intimidated by his boss, is going to stand up to him for the very first time since becoming his secretary a few months back. The man looks at his boss and tells him, in a voice that's nearly shaking, “No, General Snow, I can't work tonight.”
A stony look crossed over Crassus' face as he barked out, “Why not?”
Crassus and Leo never talked about their personal lives at work, because the general always shut down any attempts. But both men knew that the other was married by the gold rings on their ring fingers. Leo, knowing that there's a Mrs. Snow in General Crassus Snow's life, hopes that his boss understands why he can't stay late.
Speaking as not just an employee, but as a husband, Leo answers your husband with, “It's my anniversary today and I promised to take my wife out for dinner to celebrate. Made reservations and everything; I don't want to disappoint her since she's been looking forward to it for weeks now.”
Crassus knows that most married couples in the Capitol, whether their unions be love matches or arranged marriages, celebrates wedding anniversaries. But, Crassus has never celebrated your anniversary.
He honestly saw no need to. It wasn't like you're close. Hell, you're more or less roommates that have vanilla sex and have a legal piece of paper stating that you're legally bound together as man and wife til death do you part.
But now, after hearing his secretary tell him he's got anniversary plans and can't stay late, well… Now he's wondering if you're upset and crying because he never took you out to celebrate your anniversary. Because he’s a bit indifferent towards you despite knowing you biblically.
Crassus doesn't even know what comes over him when he nods and tells his secretary, “Go enjoy your anniversary with your wife, Leo.”
Leo thanks his boss and leaves, excited to take his wife out for a nice dinner. But his boss doesn't realize that maybe he should leave and go home to his wife too.
No…
Crassus goes back into his office to get a head start on some of tomorrow's work instead of going home to you, his wife that's suffering from the baby blues.
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