#she wants attention. she wants a reaction.

[cuinaminute229]

With death comes life part 2

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

a/n: this is sprinkled with angst and fluff

part 1

...

The surrounding trees are all twisted and dead, with heavy vines hanging from branches too high to reach. What you see is a barrier. A makeshift fence that keeps the witches to the road.

The air carries a subtle fog that lingers just out of reach, shrouding the forest of the road into the unknown. Even the leaves that make up the path are all dead. Only magic keeps them vibrant with false life.

You almost feel insulted. 

Nothing here can sustain life. It never will.

The road is an abomination. It shouldn’t exist.

And yet here you are.

When you look up at the sky, a feeling of loss settles in your chest. The sky is not real; the moon is a false imitation, and the stars are all wrong. 

You will never not hate this place. 

The soft whispers of a conversation tug at your attention when you notice the witches at your back are talking about you. With a subtle shift, you slow your steps and listen in. 

They speak so carelessly about your reaction to seeing Agatha, about the anger they saw. About how they could use your emotions to drive a wedge where, unbeknown to them, there is a canyon. 

In the simplest of terms, they want to manipulate you to their advantage because they do not trust Agatha. 

Because you do not trust Agatha. It’s insulting in the most human way possible.

Where on earth did she find these people? Why did she find them?

There’s something you're missing, you just know it.

The moment you hear Rio's name is the moment you turn around, you do not care what they are going to say. Their little conversation ends now. The shift in your momentum is fluid as you turn around mid step, eyes narrow in suspicion. 

You keep your face blank when they all jump in union. The very obvious change of demeanor tells you they did not know you were listening in on them.

You let the silence linger as your eyes scan over the small group. They cling to each other for comfort, but it only takes a moment for you to recognize that their bonds as a coven are new. They are still easy to bend, easy to break.

“You know,” Your voice is gentle, giving nothing of what you feel away for them to see. “To betray one's cover on the road,” 

You spread your hand out to emphasize exactly where you all are. “To break the rules only punishes all.”

“She is the one that tried to cheat!” The pink dressed witch points out like you need to be taught, like she needs to tell you who Agatha Harkness is.

As if you don't know exactly who she is. It's almost laughable how much this witch thinks she knows more than you.

“And now one of you is dead. How tragic.” This is not the first and will not be the last time a witch loses their life on the road. Do they not understand that?

“But that death is not her fault.” This time your voice is cold, stern. It feels like you're scolding children. “You failed as a coven. So do not blame your misgivings as a group on her.”

When only silence becomes their response, you decide to turn back around and continue down the path. The next trial awaits, and you want to get this over with as soon as possible. 

But a voice makes you pause. 

“Why do you hate her?” The unexpected question knocks the air out of your lungs and the world seems to stop. As if everything dead and alive waits for your answer. 

Memories rush forward with such force you wouldn't be surprised if you can never breathe again.

The sight of a never ending forest, a small cottage tucked away from hunters and strangers alike. The laughter of a young boy with Agatha's hair and Rio's smile, a bright yellow flower in his hands.

The years before tragedy felt like a lifetime. 

You were happy. You were loved. 

You want to cry. 

With a small hitch in your breath, you close your eyes and push down the tidal wave of emotions. If you become overwhelmed, the road’s magic will latch onto you like a leech. You can't risk it.

“My reasons are my own. Focus on surviving the road.” Your words are final, empty of the emotions that are battling beneath your heart. You know you can never pick up the pieces of yourself that are broken. 

But for now, you can ignore them.

You will not let them see you like this. Never again will Agatha see this side of you.

When you finally catch up with Rio, you take notice of the house in the distance, the windows lit in a deep orange sunset light. The fog of your surroundings only adds to the ominous look of it.

That must be the next trial.

What catches your attention next isn't Agatha arguing with the boy. It's not the group of three walking over to settle whatever disagreement there is. No, it's the fact that Rio is leaning against a tree, feigning boredom. Her knife in hand, twisting it in her grip as if she's studying the blade.

The leaf in her hair is bright in color, almost like fire, and it stands out against the rich brown of her hair. As if she can sense eyes on her, Rio glances up. Her eyes find you in an instant and you give her a small smile.

She waits as you walk over to her and it's only once you stop in front of her, your back to the others, does she return your smile. She tucks her knife away and holds out her hand, a small flower blooming in her palm. “For you.” 

Your smile turns bittersweet as you reach for the flower, the baby blue petals remind you of a clear afternoon sky. As your fingers touch the stem, it flourishes. Reacting to the caress of your magic that trickles from your fingers. You hold the flower for a moment before tucking it beneath your coat. 

As you look back to Rio she pushes forwards, off the dead tree that she knows you won't touch. When she steps into your space, it feels like you’ve broken the water's surface and can finally breathe again.

“You look filthy.” You tease her before she can notice if anything’s wrong. The dirt that covers her skin and her clothes gives her a rough look, and yet her makeup is as pristine as ever. Her hair looks like she’s just rolled out of bed. There are twigs and leaves and who knows what else hidden in the mess of her hair. 

“Says the one who also had to crawl out of a grave.” Rio responds, leaning just a bit closer when you reach out to brush your fingers through her hair. Her hand settles on your waist with ease, her thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Which I'm assuming is your fault.” You voice your suspicion as you tug on the largest of the leaves you can see in her hair. 

To summon a green witch, let alone any witch to the road, is almost impossible. You don't even know why they tried it in the first place. 

Rio says nothing for a moment. She just lets you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling at the twigs and leaves you find. She licks her lips when you brush your thumb behind her ear, letting out a soft sigh as she closes her eyes.

An annoyed huff and angry footsteps causes you to pull back from her, suddenly self conscious. But Rio's hand catches your wrist before you can step out of her personal space. When she blinks open her eyes to look at you, her brow furrowed slightly. You can't help but give her a reassuring smile. 

Agatha is storming off again. Because of course she is. She will not wait for the two of you.

“Tell me later?” You know this conversation isn't close to over, but right now, time is essential. Rio gives you a small nod and only then do you step away from her.

Finding Agatha is easy. She's at the next trial, waiting for the two of you. The door is decorated with stained glass, the phases of the moon surround the centerpiece, which is the waxing moon. It's almost beautiful if you didn't know that danger lies just behind it.

You feel Rio just behind you, watching the group intently. The graze of her fingers on your back is a welcoming sensation when you realize who’s trial this is.

The protection witch.

With a quick scan, you find her easily, the witch with the red streaks in her hair. She looks the most nervous, hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders hunched.

The teenager is the one to usher her inside, voice reassuring. He calls her Alice and holds his hand out for her and once she takes it; he walks through the door beside her. The other two follow close behind, nerves elevated for what is to come.

When there is only you, Agatha, and Rio left at the door, the tension seems to skyrocket. 

You clench your jaw when she looks at you as if she expects you to go first, but you don't move. The door stays open and no one moves.

When Agatha’s patient wanes, she jerks her head to the door, her voice callous, and yet she can’t look at you when she speaks. “After you.”

It’s only when Rio pushes her knuckles against your lower back do you finally give in. The very moment you walk through the door, you’re blinded by a light as bright as a newborn star. It’s honestly a weak imitation, but that doesn’t mean it can disorient you any less.

As the world around you slowly comes into focus, you notice two things right away. 

One, the air is pungent with magic. It’s so bad you swear you can taste it. Two, when you turn to look at the others, you notice everyone is dressed in seventies fashion attire. 

Glancing down, you see that you too, have also changed outfits. You brush your fingers over the gold embroidered that stands out against the white design of your clothes. Small beads and complex stitches run in calm waves up your sleeves. As you turn your arm to follow the designs, you notice your nails are also painted white. 

“Don’t drink anything. Don’t eat anything. Don’t touch anything.” Alice tells everyone as she glances around the room with a distrust that runs deep. 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Rio says as she looks at Alice, brows raised in intrigue. When she catches your gaze, she’s not subtle as she looks you over. She’s adorned in black and gold. The low cut of her blouse catches your attention and you may stare a little too long. Her smile is predatory when she notices you looking. 

“The road isn’t subtle.” Alice mutters, her disdain clear.

You glance around at her words, curious about the history that this trial will bring up.

The room looks like a music lounge studio. Instruments and microphones are set out like they are just waiting to be played. The floor is covered with different rugs; the lights have a certain aesthetic and even the walls are mismatched stones with different things decorating them. 

Your eyes land on the grand piano when everyone gathers around a wall mirror that one of the witches has found, getting a clearer look at the clothes that now fit the aesthetic of this trial. You leave them to their curiosity and walk to the center of the room, a metronome catching your attention from where it sits atop the piano. 

You don’t notice her at first, brow furrowed as you brush your fingers over the edge of the piano lid. You hum a soft lullaby as your fingers tap to the rhythm in your head.

When you see her fingers graze over the piano, you freeze. When she finishes your melody, her beige nails tapping lightly against the polished black case of the piano, you step away.

You look at Agatha like she’s a ghost. 

She’s not—she wasn't—you never told her. Rio doesn’t even know.

It was only for Nicky. It was his song.  

“What are you doing?” You back up when she finally looks up at you. She can’t hide it when her eyes glance over your attire. You know her too well. The way her eyes linger just a little too long, the way she clears her throat before jerking her head back to the piano. She takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders like she’s buying time.

She looks like she wants to say something but stops short. When she reaches for her brooch, finger tapping lightly as if she needs a physical reminder it’s still there, you understand. 

He told her. Of course he did.

Whatever Agatha is trying to accomplish by reminding you of a life you can never get back, you need her to stop.

You can't do this. The emotional whiplash is getting exhausting.

“Why are you here?” She tilts her head to look at you, her expression clouded with suspicion.

“Why are you?” You deflect her easily, asking your own question. To walk the road once and survive is akin to a miracle. Why would she come back here?

“I asked first.” She pushes into your space, eyes narrowed, her tone condescending. When you shift to move away from her, she grabs hold of your wrist. 

You don’t expect what comes next. You have no time to prepare as your magic comes alive with the contact. It’s been so long since she’s touched you that a lifetime couldn’t prepare you for her pain.

The absolute onslaught of unchecked emotions feels like agony. Her touch burns. It’s scolding hot with the centuries of anguish and hatred that Agatha has clung to. It seeps under your skin like a parasite.

You want to scream.

You need her to let go. Right now.

“I am not here for you. I want absolutely nothing to do with you.” Your words are brutal, every ounce of hatred you have ever felt is directed at her. You know you will regret this later but right now you are desperate.

Agatha steps back as if you physically slapped her. As if you ran a knife right through her heart. But she lets go, that's what you needed.

When you move away from her, cradling your wrist close to your chest, she scoffs. 

“And they call me cruel.” Her voice wavers, head turned away so you can not see her vulnerability. Your heart already hurts but you say nothing. 

The churning in your stomach makes you feel sick. You weren't expecting her to touch you. You weren't expecting your magic to respond to her.

Not like this. Not after all this time.

As you look down at your trembling hand, fingers clenching into a fist, you know one thing for certain. You didn’t feel a flicker of magic from her when she touched you. 

Agatha has lost her magic.

[lilyscript]

ATTENTION. - pb

warnings: smut, uhm idk what else

paige wouldn’t give you attention while she was on her ps4, so you made her pay attention.

a/n: this is my first oneshot so lmk how i did x

you sat on her bed, watching her long fingers moving across the controller, rapidly pressing buttons and dragging the joysticks. paige had been playing fortnite with her friends for what felt like years, but in reality it had only been an hour. you were growing bored… and horny. the sight of her concentrated face was so beautiful, it almost made you drool. every so often she’d lick her bottom lip, biting on it, which only made your urges worse.

“fuck, kamorea. lock in!” she shouted into the headset.

“paige, get off the game.”

“wait, babe,” she didn’t take her eyes off of the screen, “just let me finish this round.”

you asked again. “you can get back on later.”

“baby, please. it wont take that long. just wait until this game is over.” she turned her head back to you, glancing at you for a quick moment before turning back.

you didn’t respond, already growing frustrated with her. you thought for a second, wondering how you could get her attention away from the game, and focused on you. you needed her hands off that controller and on your body. waiting for the game to end was too long. you couldn’t wait.

you got up, rising from your spot to walk over to her position at the edge of the bed. she kept her eyes on the game, still rapidly clicking at the buttons on the controller. you stood in front of her before straddling her. your legs were on either side of her thighs, and your arms were resting on both of her shoulders. she still kept focus on the damn game. she looked over your shoulder to maintain a good view of the tv, which gave you the perfect opportunity to make another move. you latched your mouth onto her neck, kissing and sucking anywhere you could reach.

you pulled away to see the results of your work. there were purple marks scattered around her neck, gradually darkening. she barely had any reaction, still biting her bottom lip as she focused on her game. she snaked her arm around your waist, only a small acknowledgment of your presence. she met your gaze for a moment before tilting her head again, gesturing for you to continue. this only increased your frustration. you wanted her undivided attention. only getting a portion of her attention just wouldn’t suffice.

you scoffed before pushing off of her, walking over to her tv stand. you reached for the console, turning it off with the simple press of a button.

“babe!” paige called out, finally turning her gaze towards you.

“you weren’t giving me any attention.” you walked back to your position, straddling paige again.

this time when you straddled her, she didn’t look off to the side. she looked at you with furrowed brows before harshly gripping your hips and pushing you down onto the bed. now you were laid on the bed with her hovering over you… exactly what you wanted.

she lowered her face beside your ear, whispering “you have it now. my full, undivided, attention.”

you smiled, almost moaning at the mere sound of her low husky voice. she grabbed your face, making sure you looked into her eyes as she said her next words.

“and because you didn’t listen when i told you to wait, you’re not gonna get it how you want it. this shit’s gonna go my way.”

as soon as she was done speaking, she latched her mouth onto yours. her free hand held your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. her tongue made its way around your mouth, exploring it as if she had never kissed you before. you moaned into her mouth as you bucked your hips up, eager for more. your pussy started to pulse and you squeezed your legs together, desperate for any form of pleasure. paige moved her hand from your neck to under your shirt, her cold hand making it’s way to your chest.

she pulled away from your mouth, “no bra?”

she smiled before lifting your shirt up, instantly latching her mouth onto your bud. with her free hand, she massaged your other breast. another moan slipped from your mouth, a curse following right after. she continued to work on your breasts, switching her mouth to the other. you continued to moan, your breaths shallow and quick.

she detached her mouth from your breast before returning to your mouth with a lustful kiss. she snaked her hand down, slipping it below your shorts as she continued to kiss you. you bucked your hips up to meet her hand, forcing more contact. she quickly disconnected her mouth from yours and pushed your hips back down.

“mm-mm, baby. this is gonna go my way or i’m not gonna fuck you at all, remember?” she husked.

you nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough for paige.

“use your words, baby.”

you spoke softly, “yes, paige. it’s gonna go your way.”

she resumed her movements, placing her hand over your slit. she slipped her fingers over your clit, rubbing soft circles on it. soft moans escaped your lips as you finally felt the pleasure you were waiting for.

“that good baby? do i make you feel good?”

you nodded your head, “yes, paige, so good.”

she started to rub tighter, faster, and harder. she applied more pressure, eliciting more frequent moans from you. your breath was shaky and sharp, the knot in your stomach rapidly tightening. her sucking on your neck as she rubbed your bud only added to the intense pleasure you were feeling.

you moaned her name, “paige…”

“hm?” she continued to suck on your neck.

“i need more.”

she stopped her movements, placing her hand on your neck once again. “you’re such a needy brat, i’ve already told you to wait. you couldn’t do it the first time, but you’re going to now.”

your moans stopped at the loss of contact. your eyes fluttered open, and you were forced to meet her gaze when she turned your face towards hers.

she lowered herself to settle in between your legs. she slowly peeled your shorts off of you, and you grew more and more needy by the second. you almost wanted to just use your own hands, but you knew she’d make you feel even better.

she peeled your panties off after your shorts, glancing up at you through her eyelashes before sinking her face between your legs.

she grunted at the sight of your pussy, “so beautiful. all wet for me… so beautiful.”

you could only manage to moan when she attached her tongue to your sopping cunt. she started to lick and suck on your bud. you were a moaning mess, the only other sounds coming from the sound of paige eating you out. she flicked her tongue up and down your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you buried your head deeper into her pillow.

she added a finger into your cunt, not even pausing her mouth movements. she pressed her tongue flat against your bud before sucking on it. the only sounds that you could make were moans and curses. you couldn’t even say her full name.

“pai- oh, fuck.”

“oh my fuck, pa… fuck, p.”

“shit, so… mmm…”

you were nearing your orgasm as she continued to lap at your cunt. you opened your eyes and looked down at paige. stray hairs started to fall from her slick back bun, and you tucked it behind her ears. the clear view of her licking your cunt and pumping her finger inside of you was enough to break the knot in your stomach. your moans got louder and more frequent as you started to approach your high, but before you could feel the release… paige paused.

“brats don’t get to come when they want.”

you’re panting heavily, trying to catch your breath. “paige, please…”

she smirked, “tell me what you want, and how you want it.”

“fuck me, paige. please, i need you to make me come.” your voice is laced with desperation.

“i’ll think about it.” she responded before sinking back into her position between your legs.

you sighed in relief as soon as her tongue was back on your clit. she slid a finger into your cunt once again, eliciting a loud moan from you. she pumped her finger in and out of your wet core before adding another. you moaned even louder, the knot in your stomach rebuilding, but this time it was stronger.

“fuck, paige. just like that.”

moaning her name only motivated her more, and she completely forgot why she was mad. she sped up her pace, your moans even more lewd than before. she sucked and licked, and the knot in your stomach felt as if it was going to burst. with one last pump of her fingers, you arched your back off the bed, calling her name out as you moaned. she allowed you to ride out your high, still licking your clit.

she pulled herself up, smirking at you as she watched you pant and try to relax. she stuck her two fingers into her mouth, sucking them. she groaned at the taste of you, maintaining eye contact with you as she did. you pulled her face to yours, connecting your lips. you moaned into the kiss as you tasted yourself on her tongue.

paige pulled back, “i love you, baby.”

“i love you too, paige.”

———

[venusbyline]

Whore ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 21, oct.

(late post) ♡ part 1

— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: edging play

— summary: You are tired of Spencer's brat behavior and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, despite everything, he will always be your little whore at the end of the day.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 21st day, female!reader, boyfriend!Reid, edging play, orgasm denial, degradation, praise kink, drunk sex, reader is a member of the BAU, argument, handjob, jealously, cock worship, body worship, slapping, punishment, crying, dacryphilia, semi-public sex, teasing, implied/referenced cheating (BUT NO REALLY), drunken flirting, relationship issues, trust issues, BAU Team mentioned, minor JJ x Prentiss, minor Reid x JJ (BUT NO REALLY), lesbian!JJ mentioned, brat!Reid, brat tamer!reader, light sadism, light hurt/comfort, masochist!Reid, sub!Reid, dom!reader, long hair!Reid/Jesus!Reid. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Going to a pub with the rest of the BAU team had been a bad decision. A decision that Spencer made by impulse, always enjoying making you jealous when he was a little bored. He had promised that night you two could finally finish watching the new TV show released on Netflix, but instead he convinced you to go with him to drink with your friends.

Despite the slight disappointment of having to change your schedule for the night, you did not mind too much. You loved having fun with the team and you were almost sure Spencer had learned his lesson after the last punishment when you sat on his face for hours, riding him and using his lips to reach your orgasm, as if he was nothing but your favorite sex toy. And indeed he really was and loved to be that for you.

However, Spencer was also a spoiled little whore. Accepting Morgan's invitation to go with the BAU friends to the pub was supposed to be a true fun time. If he had not fucked up everything by flirting with JJ, you really could have had fun with all of them instead of spending every fifteen minutes drinking a new glass of wine. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, something that would make you mad at him again and making him receive the best orgasm of his whole life, as always happened.

At first, you tried to ignore it. JJ distanced herself from him, also not really liking his not-so-innocent flirting. She did not want you to think she was actually interested about your boyfriend. JJ was the type of woman who was more interested especially about Emily, but also about Garcia and even you sometimes. Reid was not even interested in his friend too, it was all only to tease you. But it was still uncomfortable and no one of the group wanted to be in the middle of the possible argument that would ensue if Spencer continued acting with that childish behavior.

When JJ began to ignore the flirting, Spencer sighed with frustration, drinking his whiskey and looking around the establishment. He saw a beautiful curvy woman sitting alone, also drinking the same whiskey. Noticing his gaze, she smirked, fiddling with her long blonde hair before waving at the shy Spencer.

Morgan's attention immediately went to Spencer, noticing how he giggled at the woman's invitation and handed the promise ring to Morgan, who put it inside his jeans pocket before snorting. "Fuck. That's enough, Pretty Boy. You're really crossing the line now."

Morgan knew about Reid's way of attracting your dominant side. He did not think it was all bad, but he also knew that sometimes his friend crossed some limits. And this was something much more serious than the last few situations. "It's just harmless flirting, dude. You know I love my darling more than anything and anyone in this whole world." Spencer defended himself, really annoyed that Morgan thought he was thinking about cheating the woman who had his heart in the palm of her hands.

"Anyway, Reid. This isn't cool, man. You're already making things tense by trying to flirt with JJ in front of everyone. And now you're still gonna do it while your fucking girlfriend's in the bathroom? What kind of gentleman are you?" It was Prentiss's turn to argue, crossing her arms disapprovingly. "It just makes you look like a terrible boyfriend. Actually, it's a real shame for us, for her and for yourself..."

Spencer's eyes widened with shock. He had never seen things this way. He knew he was acting bratty and spoiled, flirting for fun just to get your punishment. Most of the time, Spencer thought you liked the adrenaline rush. However, looking at the real view, he was starting to worry that you were actually hurt by him. Anyone who did not know the two of you well would think he was an cheating man who did not even respect his own girlfriend in public.

"Oh, holy shit..." He sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol. Spencer looked at each of the older agents, the slight anger in Morgan and Emily faces, the disappointment in Hotch, Garcia and Rossi eyes, and the clear discomfort in JJ's flushed cheeks, which most of the time was the focus of his annoying advances. "Damn, Jen. I sure I'm just-"

Spencer was about to apologize to his friend, but stopped when he heard laughter. A laugh he knew all too well. The entire team looked back, Spencer's face turning pale as he saw a man with an arm around your waist as you two walked to the table. He tried to say anything, anything at all, but all he could think about was how much stronger the man was than him, practically the same height but with a huge difference in muscles, his large hand clasped around your waist as if you were a little doll.

"Guys, this is Nicholas. Or Nick. As I prefer to call him. We met at a coffee shop a few days ago. Nick, these are my teammates at the BAU." You smiled, hands on his strong arm that was bursting out of his white shirt.

"Hey..." The man said with an attempt at a friendly smile, but he did not quite manage it. Spencer was profiling him too well to know that Nicholas was trying his best not to let his arousal show through the shorts he wore, due to your warm hand on his skin.

Spencer waited for you to introduce himself as your boyfriend, to tell the stupid boy that you were his girl. However, the brief look you gave his empty finger was enough to let him know you were nor going to do that. Spencer internally cursed himself for taking off the damn ring and giving it to Morgan. That stupid plan to flirt with the blonde girl in the other part of the pub had already evaporated from his mind, but the consequences were just coming.

After some more time of small talk, Nicholas finally left, saying he needed to get back to the house because he had to study for a casting audition the next morning. The agents said goodbye to him with friendly waves, while Spencer continued with that angry stare, his bad mood only getting worse when Nicholas gave you a brief grab on your ass and a soft kiss on your cheek, humming something like "See you another day, princess" and coming out as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The atmosphere became tenser after the same moment that the pub bell rang to announce Nicholas's departure. "Well, I guess my girlfriend's nothing but a fucking greedy whore..." Before anyone could argue, you grabbed Spencer's arm without any usual tenderness. Morgan even tried to get up to help both of you resolve the situation, afraid that it would escalate into a violent argument. Even though he trusted his best friends, the thought of a stubborn couple fighting after drinking so much whiskey and wine made him apprehensive, but Hotch motioned for him to remain seated, indicating that the argument was none of their business. The entire team knew Spencer and you well enough to know what would happen in the pub bathroom.

"You really think you've any right to call me a whore?" You growled, your hand unbuttoning the khakis that Reid was wearing, listening to him whimper and try to cover the damp spot on his white boxers. He wanted to keep arguing. He wanted to stay angry as hell after your intentional flirt with that idiot playboy. Spencer really doubted that Nicholas was as smart as he was. Or that Nicholas had as many bachelor's degrees and doctorates as he had. "You think you've the right to call me a fucking greedy whore, when you're the one who's always teasing me, hitting on all the women just to piss me off?"

Your fist closed around his cock, already turned on and sensitive just from the tension of the fight. Spencer tried. He really tried hard to take control. But that had been impossible after you dragged him through the halls while he was calling Nicholas a "stupid actor" and saying you were a cockslut desperate for male attention. Anyway, the wiser reaction was being pushing him against the wall of the women's bathroom — fortunately empty thanks to the few people in the establishment.

"And you are, darling. You're a little whore..." Spencer growled, closing his eyes so he would not watch how your hand moved so quickly on his cock, pinky and needy of your touch, already dripping and proving that he was your little whore, and not the other way around.

"Oh, am I?" You increased the speed, the natural lubrication that dripped from his glans not being enough to stop the slight stinging that came with the friction. It was like rubbing himself raw, and yet Spencer moaned, rolling over his eyes with the ache, whimpering for more. “You look like a noisy slut.” You spat on his cock to ease the pain he was enjoying. On the one hand it was good, as the burning subsided and your saliva was cold from the wine you drank before the argument. But on the other hand, Spencer pouted at the lack of agony and the way you began to rub him slowly. "You like it when it hurts so bad, don't you?"

Your mockery made Spencer bite his lip and smirk, his cheeks flushed with a look that indicated how much he always enjoyed suffering at your hands. He lifted his hips forward and you watched with a raised eyebrow as he fucked himself inside your hand, his hips starting slowly and enjoying the way you let him use your fist to pleasure himself. You did not even need to move, seeing his slutty smile and head arched back, his jaw line forming such a perfect angle that you had to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

When Spencer's hip movements started to get faster and more erratic, you huffed and took your hand away from his crotch, the soft sound of his cock hitting back against his own thin stomach mixing with the sound of your boyfriend's whimpers.

"You see now? You're nothing but a brainless brat, Spencer. Can't you even ask me to cum? You always have to make a mess? Can't you do anything right?" You practically yelled and he sobbed, squirming against the wall and ignoring the cold tile pressed against his pretty ass.

"I'm so sorry, darling..." He sobbed again, one hand trying to touch himself and the other running through your hair as a way of wanting to beg you for forgiveness, but without saying that.

"Yeah, you should feel that way."

The sad pout appeared on Spencer's lips again. He should not have called you a whore. He should not have arguing with you for letting Nicholas flirt right in front of him, when he teased you like that all the time too. In fact, Spencer had realized that he should not have extended this kind of teasing for so long. He had crossed boundaries and made your relationship stressful. Spencer knew you were hurt by this now and he could not blame you.

"Darling..." He tried to touch you, but you pulled away, spitting into your palm and wrapping your fingers around his girth for the third time, hearing his eager whine. You knew he was just jealous, actually always feeling insecure and wanting punishments. However, you did not want to hear anything right now. You pulled his shirt up, forcing the fabric over his mouth, which he bit against his will, despite the tears in his eyes. Tears that were both of relief at being touched again and sadness at knowing that you did not even want to hear his apologies.

"Stay like that. Like the jealous and needy little slut you are." You ordered, kneeling on the floor in front of Spencer and staring at the sight. His wide teary eyes, his teeth biting into his shirt, his flushed cheeks and his long hair damp with sweat... And most of all, his skinny body and belly contracting in anticipation, your nimble fingers caressing the reddish head of his cock with a smirk on your face, lightly licking the tip and hearing a muffled whimper escaping from those pretty swollen lips. "I'm gonna tease you for as long as I want. And you can just cum when I tell you to, you understand?"

The sharp slap you gave his thigh made Spencer sob with both pain and pleasure, pulsing in your hand as he nodded with some desperation. He needed this. He needed to cum. He needed to be a good boy for you. Your own little whore.

"That's it, my good boy." Despite your anger, you actually smiled for the first time since the whole damn mess started, pressing a soft kiss to the red mark on his skin where you hit him. And Spencer's cheeks flushed, not just because of the horny, but also because he loved you so much. He would be your good boyfriend again.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[authorsofghosts]

Birthday Kiss | Nightcrawler x Reader | One Shot

Author's Note: I find out an hour after waking up at almost 3pm it's Kurt's birthday... had to write something for the blue lad... German translations at the bottom !!

Summery: It was known by everyone except you two that there was something... awkward between you and Kurt. The exchanges of glances when the other wasn't looking, the way your laughs trailed off... Nothing but tonight was the end of all that.

Themes: Birthday, First Kiss, Fluff OMG, so much Fluff, Mutual Crush, Open Ending, Alcohol/Drinking Mention, Awkwardness, Flirting, Guest Appearance of lots of characters, Kissing (duh), Kurt Has a Beard and Forked Tongue (because fuck you), His face is also skin (not fur), Shorter!R (<5'9), R is a mutant/x-man (No Powers Written).

Word Count: 1.4k

The X-Men knew that Kurt wasn't one to like big celebrations, but that didn't stop them from forcing him out of his comfort zone. They rented out a mutant friendly restaurant for the blue boy's birthday. He had to be quite literally dragged by the hair into Wolverine's jeep to go. It was a site to see, really.

But you were happy to see him warm up to the idea as you crawled into the backseat next to him, his tail stopping it's anxious swishing to wrap around you and bring you closer. This made the both of you blush, his cheeks a faint purple.

"So... you knew about all, uh...this?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Who do you think brought up having a party?" You laugh, smile beaming as you look up at him. His blush deepens at the thought.

"Was?? Since when?!" He laughs, shaking his head as he tried to hide behind his hands. You reach out and pull his hands away from his face, his yellow eyes widening at the sudden act.

"The first, duh. I knew your birthday was coming up, and I wanted to make sure you knew we cared for you, Blau." You say, quickly watching his reaction, which was much softer than you imagined it would me.

"Well, I should have excepted it from mein Freundchen, huh?" He laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you flush against his side. If it weren't for the slight bumps of the road, your ear would be flat against his chest. He quickly puts his knuckles against your scalp and gives you a noogie.

"Keep it civil back there, kids." The gruff voice of the driver and owner of the jeep said, cigar smoke puffing out his mouth as he spoke.

"Sorry, Logan!" You respond, pushing Kurt off of you, your own cheeks hot with blush. You look over to Rogue, who sat on the other side of Kurt, watching the two of you with a small smirk on her face. "What're you looking at?"

"Oh, nothin', sugar." She says, eyes darting between you and your friend, before turning to look out the window. You weren't sure what she meant, but quickly turned your attention back to Kurt, who shrugs and laughs. You watch as he turns to his sister and gets her attention with his tail.

You watch the two siblings mingle, resulting in both of them laughing about some inside joke. It made your heart flutter to hear him laugh, a big change from the man that didn't even want to celebrate his birthday, having to be dragged out of his room by you and Rogue, forced to get dressed in something slightly fancy, and shoved into the car.

The rest of the trip into town was filled with Wolverine's radio blaring some classic rock, small talk and jokes from the back sit of probably the worst trio to get on Logan's nerves, and the wind blowing through the car from the windows. You all finally arrived at the restaurant, having to wait in the jeep for the others. You get out and stretch your legs, quickly followed by Kurt as he sits back against the jeep, arms stretched high into the air.

You can't help but watch the way his white shirt slightly raises, showing just a bit of the blue fur underneath. You blush once again, quickly looking away before he can see. He finishes stretching, holding the front closure of his leather jacket. "You alright, mein Schatz?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry." You wave him off, seeing two more cars pull into the parking lot. You smile widely, grabbing his wrist, "Come on birthday boy."

Kurt's glowing yellow eyes widen as you pull him along towards the others, a humbled laugh leaving his throat as his tail swishes anxiously behind him. The two of you start a conversation with the others, Scott and Hank both giving Kurt a pat on the back as they greet him. You can't help but notice, even with all the people around, he's staring right at you majority of the time.

The party quickly moves inside, a slight rain picking up in the city. The restaurant was on the top floor of the building, high in the sky with a nice balcony. It wasn't that much a big room, the X-Men filling it up pretty well with the amounts of guests. You were quickly separated from Kurt as he was dragged to the bar by some of the guys. You watched from a distance as they all took a shot. You kind of wished you were there to see what they cheered to, but it was less important than the gossip that Warren was spilling to the small group you found yourself apart of.

The night continued on, food being brought and distributed among everyone. You heard a ring of glass being hit with something metal, getting everyone's attention as Scott stood in the middle of the room.

"Hello, everyone! Thank you all for coming out, truly. We're about to bring out the cake and play happy birthday, so if you'd all like to come over here," He gestured to the table next to him, a spot blank for the cake, "That'd be great, thanks!"

He quickly turned around and started talking with Jean and Logan. You looked around for Kurt, spotting him close to the table with a tail wrapped around his leg. You walked over to him, putting a hand around him in a side hug. "Hey, what's up?"

"Oh! Nothing, just... this is all wunderbar, liebe, I'm just a little... over stimulated?" He laughs out. You understand what he means, grabbing his wrist once more and pulling him towards the balcony.

"Then let's get some air, yeah?" You say, looking back at him and pausing before you step out the door. He nods, walking out with you into the cold air of the New York night. You both sigh, finally away from the loud party. You watch as Kurt walks to the balcony edge, leaning himself against the bars.

"Thank you," He grins, "for everything. I didn't think I'd want to be here, but it's very nice that you arranged this whole thing."

"Oh, it wasn't just me. We all pitched in. I just picked the music and decorations, really." You admit, trying to stay humble as your cheeks burned.

"Ja, but, you know," He turns back to you with a toothy grin, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, "it wouldn't have happened if you didn't ask to have a party."

You nod, understanding what he says but still not wanting to take all the credit. Before you can respond, he teleports behind you, the air around you surrounded with the familiar brimstone and ash smell. He places his hands on your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. The feeling of his goatee lingers on your skin as he pull back. "Danke, mein Fraund."

If your face didn't already feel hot, it now felt like it was on fire, your blush dripping to your neck and ears at the gesture. You look over at him, a genuine smile on your lips. "You're very welcome, Kurt." You say, turning around and wrapping your arms around his middle. You nuzzle against his chest.

You both stay there for a few moments, taking it in. You pull away first, heart pounding as the thought of your next action. Your hands travel up to Kurt's face, holding it in place as you stand on your tiptoes. "And... you're welcome for this." You say softly before pressing your lips flush against his own.

Kurt tenses up for a moment, the glow of his eyes disappearing as he closes his eyes, leaning further into the kiss. This shocked you, making you gasp, taken aback as his forked tongue licks across your bottom lip. He pulls you closer into him, a hand combing through your hair and holding your head in place.

You open your mouth, allowing him access into it. He chuckles softly, tail snaking around your hips. The kiss feels like it lasts forever, the two of you tangling in one another. When he finally pulls away, your eyes open to the sight of his cheeks a deep violet, feeling his breath pant against your lips as he presses your foreheads together.

"Did... that really just happen?" He asks, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it did... It very much did, Kurt." You respond, pressing your lips against his again, but only for a moment. "Think of it as... a birthday gift, yeah?"

"I think a birthday kiss is the best thing you could have given me, Liebchen." Kurt laughs, capturing your lips once again.

"Was?" = What? "Blau" = Blue. "mein Freundchen" = My friend (in a condescending/playful way). "mein Schatz" = My treasure/My darling/My sweetheart. "Wunderbar" = Wonderful. "Liebe" = Love. "Ja" = Yes. "Danke, mein Fraund" = Thank you, my friend. "Liebchen" = Darling.

[wosola]

French kisses .3 - Lucy Bronze x French!Reader

Summary: This is during Lucy Bronze’s time playing for Lyon, she's just gotten into a relationship with R, a 22-year-old student. For R it is the first time sleeping with someone.

Warnings: This is an 18+ fanfic with explicit content, so minors DNI. Smut; Readers' first time, cunnilingus, fingering. Fluff; aftercare.

Part 1 - Part 2

Seeing you captivated, lucy gently took your hands in hers, smirking a little as she guided them to her chest. She laced her fingers through yours, encouraging you to cup her breasts, your palms brushing over the sensitive peaks. You gave a gentle squeeze, feeling the heat of her skin against your hands, still entranced by her body.

Lucy’s smile softened as she took in your focused expression. “feels good?” She asked amused.

“mhm,” you murmured, still in a bit of a daze before you blinked, meeting her eyes. “yeah.”

She let her hands drift to your own chest, fingers trailing over your skin before her thumbs brushed over your nipples, drawing a shiver from you.

She leaned in, catching your lips in a kiss, gently lowering you against the bed again.

One hand moved to support her weight beside you, while her other continued its exploration of your chest.

Her kisses were slow, unhurried, like she was savoring every touch and every inch of you.

After a moment her mouth began to travel, leaving a line of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, the sensation of her lips heightening the sensitivity of your skin beneath her.

Your hand moved to thread into her hair, tugging her closer to your body. Even though it felt overwhelming, you didn’t want her to stop.

Every inch of you was alive under her touch, your heart beating faster and faster as her lips pressed lower. You felt your breaths grow shallow, anticipation building with every kiss that explored your skin.

Your breath hitched. Her mouth was warm and soft and when she brushed a kiss just above your nipple, you couldn’t help the way your fingers tightened slightly in her hair.

Slowly she brought her lips to the bud, kissing it in a way that made you exhale a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

A strange warmth spread through you. It was both tender and exhilarating, you could feel her smiling against you at how your body reacted on her touch.

Her tongue darted out, brushing lightly and you felt an overwhelming thrill ripple through you.

You’d never been touched like this before and as she played with your sensitive skin you felt your body responding, tingling, becoming alive under her attention in a way that was new for you.

She looked up, gauging your reaction. It was a sight, her mouth on your breast and her eyes focused on you. You sent her a pleading look, you wanted her to continue.

Your heart raced and your cheeks heated up as her mouth trailed down, her kisses slow and lingering as she moved lower, across the dip of your ribs and toward your belly.

By the time her lips reached your waist, you found yourself squirming slightly beneath her, anticipation and a tinge of shyness mingling in the pit of your stomach.

Her lips brushed your hips and without having control over it your legs shook, your hips bucking.

Lucy paused, noticing the way you shifted restlessly. She chuckled, glancing up at you. Her eyes met yours from where she hovered at your hips, a spark of mischief in her gaze.

You thought she looked so beautiful there, half-smiling, her face inches away from the most intimate parts of you.

There was something about the way she looked at you, or maybe it was her position. But seeing her like this, gazing up at you with that soft, adoring look, made you feel a mix of excitement and bashfulness, like you were about to share something of yourself that no one other then yourself had ever come close to before.

Lucy’s hand slid gently along your thigh, she paused, meeting your gaze with a soft, questioning look. “can I take these off?” She asked, her voice low and warm.

You nodded, too caught up in the moment to form any words.

You lifted your hips slightly to help her slide your pants down. Your underwear got caught in your pants, leaving you bare, the cool air hit your skin and you became suddenly aware of just how wet you were.

When you were alone, you rarely got this wet—but with Lucy, after a particularly nice make-out session, you’d sometimes even had to change your underwear.

She had that effect on you, something you had never experienced before. Now, with her being able to see the evidence of that in front of her, you felt a thrill of vulnerability.

But the way she looked at you was so reassuring. Her gaze was gently but there was also a sliver of hunger in her gaze, making you feel comfortable and safe but also wanted.

She dropped your pants aside and trailed her fingers lightly along the outsides of your thighs.

Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your knee, then began a slow journey upward.

Her lips brushed along the sensitive skin just above your knee, then slightly higher and with each kiss you felt like breathing was getting harder.

You shifted beneath her, unable to stop a small, involuntary whine from escaping your lips as she moved closer to your center.

Lucy looked up, smirking, clearly pleased by the effect she was having on you. Her gaze was dark but full of tenderness and her smile held a hint of playful mischief.

You felt your cheeks warm as she continued kissing her way up your thigh, savoring each inch of your skin as if it were something precious, like she was worshipping you.

Each kiss, each inch closer, left you feeling more and more exposed, yet it only made the moment feel more thrilling.

Lucy’s lips hovered just above your skin, her warm breath fanning across your inner thigh.

Her hands moved softly, brushing up along your hips as she placed a lingering kiss near the edge of your thigh where it bordered your hip.

Her voice was a soft murmur, barely above a whisper, as she took in the way you squirmed beneath her touch. “mmm my beautiful girl,” she breathed, almost to herself. But the words hit something within you, a sense of need building into something almost too intense.

You shifted, your body aching for her, a tension unfurling like an ache that only she could relieve. A soft whimper escaped you.

Lucy’s gaze flicked upward, her lip caught between her teeth as she leaned back up over you to meet your eyes.

She paused just before your mouth, “what’s wrong?” She asked, playfully, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You rolled your eyes, a breathy chuckle slipping out as you let your hands trail up her back, tugging her closer. “luce, you know what you’re doing,” you whined, your voice barely a whisper, thick with longing. “Soyez cool, please continuez.” <<Come on, please continue>>

Lucy smirked as she took in the flush on your cheeks and the way your body arched toward her. “oh, I see,” she murmured, giving you one more lingering kiss, slow and teasing, before shifting her position again and pressing her mouth along the curve of your stomach.

Her kisses traced a slow path downward again, her lips grazing every sensitive inch as she settled back between your legs.

You noticed Lucy seemed to like holding a bit of dominance over you. You liked it, it was attractive to you when she was a little bit cocky and smug. 

As her lips traveled closer to your center, you felt the anticipation build impossibly thicker, every inch of your skin alight. You couldn’t help the soft, impatient sounds that kept slipping out.

Your hand drifted back into her hair, fingers curling as you subtly guided her, the need in you too strong to hold back.

Lucy laughed softly against your skin, pausing to look up, her mouth curved in a wicked smile. “mm eager, are we?” She whispered, a hint of a smirk dancing in her eyes before she dipped her head.

As her lips finally settled exactly where you needed, a weird sensation flooded over you, the world melted away, leaving only the feeling of her mouth.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d felt before. Lucy’s mouth was soft yet firm, moving with a rhythm that had you teetering somewhere between pleasure and something almost overwhelming. Her tongue glided over your most sensitive spot. It sent shockwaves through your body.

At first, you tried to keep your eyes open, to focus on lucy’s head moving between your thighs, her dark hair splayed out against your skin.

But as her lips closed around your clit, sucking gently, your body’s reaction was instinctive—a rush of heat that had you throwing your head back onto the mattress.

The feeling was almost too much, yet exactly what you craved, each touch driving you higher. Your breaths came quicker, shallower, the wetness between your legs only growing as lucy's mouth explored you.

Lucy seemed to sense every change, every shift in your breathing, the gasps that fell from your lips feeding her intensity. She stayed in tune with you, her mouth working at just the right pace, never letting up as if she were entirely fueled by your reactions.

You felt her fingers press into your thighs, anchoring you.

A deep, almost strangled moan escaped your lips, a sound you barely recognized as your own and suddenly lucy paused, her head lifting, gaze meeting yours in concern.

“are you alright?” she asked softly, her voice full of care, her expression open and vulnerable. “did i-”

The absence of her touch was stark and you couldn’t help the whine that left you, a plea that surprised even you. “luce, please,’’ you managed, ‘’don’t stop,” your voice nearly breathless, heavy with need.

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, her hand brushing over your thigh reassuringly before she leaned back down, her mouth finding you again. She took her time, her rhythm building up until you felt yourself slipping under completely, the pleasure becoming a wave that crashed over you, washing everything else away. Quiet gasps and soft whiny moans leaving your lips uncontrollably.

As lucy’s mouth worked steadily against you, a rising warmth built up inside again, coiling tighter with every flick and caress. Your breaths came out in quick, shallow bursts.

She didn’t rush, but there was an intensity, a focus in the way her tongue moved over your clit, each pass bringing you closer and closer to that edge, that tipping point where everything would slip away.

The tension inside you built into an ache that was at once too much and not nearly enough.

Your body tensed as she held you right on that precipice, every muscle tightening until, finally, with a strangled moan, you went tumbling over.

The release hit you in waves, the pleasure so powerful it felt almost surreal, your body shuddering under her touch. Your hands gripping tighter in her hair as your legs shook, your back arching off the bed as the sensation flooded through you. You barely recognized the sounds coming from your own mouth.

Lucy didn’t stop, her mouth was gentle but still persistent, helping you through the aftershock, her touch grounding and reassuring as you came down, feeling the pleasure fade.

You could feel her smile against your skin, a pleased hum escaping her.

When you finally opened your eyes, dazed and breathless, lucy was watching you, her gaze soft yet smoldering, filled with an affection and pride that left you feeling completely seen.

With one last gentle kiss to your thigh, she made her way back up to you, her eyes meeting yours, her fingers brushing your cheek. You could barely manage a shaky smile, still lost somewhere between bliss and amazement.

Lucy leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips and you could taste the hint of yourself on her.

“was that good?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You let out a small, breathy laugh as you looked up at her. “yes,” you chuckled, reaching for her, pulling her close.

You both shifted on the bed to the headboard and laid there, still catching your breath, legs tangled together, faces inches apart on the pillow. The air between you felt softer somehow, both of you caught in that post-bliss haze where everything seemed a little warmer, like a little pink cloud had formed around the two of you.

Lucy reached over, gently brushing a finger along your cheek. "so," she murmured, a hint of a smile in her eyes, "was that…alright? For your first time, I mean."

You laughed softly, reaching up to hold her hand against your cheek. “mhm, you were very gentle with me, lucy. It felt really good.” You shifted a bit, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "I already can’t wait for the next time."

Lucy laughed, a bright sound that melted into the moment, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “well, that’s a good sign.” She kissed your forehead and then your nose, her smile warm. “guess I did alright, then.”

You bit your lip, feeling a small swell of nerves. “…what if I can’t do it as well for you?” You whispered, the words half-buried in the pillow. “I mean, you made it seem so…easy but I d-”

She shook her head and leaned in, giving you a reassuring kiss. “you’ll do amazing and hey, the first times are about figuring things out together. Some trial and error’s is normal, you know?”

You nodded, letting her words sink in.

‘’honestly, I think you’re never done learning or exploring, just remember everything is no-pressure, we do things because they’re fun and because it feels good, not because we have too.’’ lucy ended her sentence with a chuckle, ‘’I know that you know that, but I will just keep telling you.’’ she said, noticing you smiling at her.

She shifted to lay on her side and leaned in to kiss your cheek, ‘’I love you y/n.’’

You smiled, leaning closer. ‘’I love you too, luce.’’ you captured her lips with yours.

You realized it was kind of hot tasting yourself in her mouth.

The kiss deepened. You reached down, running your hand over her hip, fingers lingering just above the waistband of her pants. “could I…take these off?” You asked, mirroring how she’d asked you earlier, meeting her gaze.

Lucy nodded, a soft “yes” barely audible as she lifted her hips, helping you slide them down her legs.

Her boxers were still on but you could see a dark spot where the fabric clung to her, sending a blush spreading across your cheeks.

The realization that she was as affected by you as you were by her made your heart race. You looked up, half-wondering if she’d notice you staring.

Her own cheeks flushed and she laughed softly, glancing away before looking back at you.

You felt a little thrill of confidence as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Your fingers lightly grazed her thighs, you felt her muscles tense beneath your touch, sparking a new sense of excitement in you.

It felt good to effect lucy. You wanted to make her feel good.

The two of you moved slowly at first, faces close enough to feel each other's breaths as you melted into a kiss.

You settled over her, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt effortless and as you began to kiss her deeper, the gentle rise and fall of her chest under yours sent a thrill through you.

A gentle shift brought your hips flush against hers and as you leaned in, you felt the heat radiating from her. The friction, even through the cotton of her boxers, was enough to send a spark up your spine, making you breathe a little harder, a little less steady.

The warmth and wetness pressed against your thigh felt almost like an invitation, urging you to press down.

Lucy let out a soft, shaky sigh, her hands roaming to your waist, gently guiding you to grind down against her with a slow rhythm that matched the way your mouths moved together.

Her lips parted with a quiet gasp as her fingers pressed slightly into your sides, her response only fueling you.

You moved purely on instinct, each touch and kiss guided by how she responded to you. It was exhilarating to feel the way lucy’s body reacted under you.

Your fingers found their way to her chest, cupping her breast with a tentative squeeze that drew a soft sound from her lips, her breath catching as your thumb grazed over her nipple.

You felt her shiver slightly, her hand tracing the skin on your back as you leaned in again, letting your tongue explore her mouth.

The heat between you both grew, each kiss blending into the next, and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of it all.

It was a lot—it made your heart race and your skin got clammy—but it felt good.

A flush crept over you, the sense of being in control adding a thrill that you felt between your own legs, even though nothing was happening there.

You could feel the tension in her body, how her lips parted, breathy and eager against yours and for a moment, you were almost taken aback. You seemed to be doing something well.

Breaking from the kiss, you looked down at lucy with a soft, adoring smile before leaning in to press your lips to her neck. You let your mouth trail down, licking and nipping lightly at her skin, just like how she’d done at yours, savoring every shiver and tiny sound she made under you.

“y/n—” she started, her voice breathless and almost desperate, before she stopped herself.

“what?” you murmured, still nestled in the crook of her neck, tasting her skin and feeling her pulse quicken beneath your lips.

“nothing,” she whispered, her cheeks tinged red. “move at your own pace, I… I just got a little carried away.”

Her reaction made you smirk, something bolder awakening within you. You lifted yourself slightly, resting your hands on either side of her thighs, “what is it?” You whispered, voice low and questioning. “do you want me?”

She nodded, hesitant but unmistakably eager.

“where do you want me?” the words left your lips before you even knew you’d say them, a spark of mischief lighting up inside you as her blush deepened. You didn’t know where you got the boldness.

“no just go your pace, I—”

You tilted your head, giving her a soft whine. “Lucy, amor. You can tell me, I promise.”

She took a shaky breath, her eyes searching yours for a moment and then she took your hand in hers, guiding it down until you where inside her underwear. “I’m so wet for you, y/n,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed but her gaze steady.

A quiet gasp escaped you as your fingers brushed her slick folds, her arousal coating your skin.

You looked up, meeting her eyes as you drew your hand back and without thinking, brought your fingers to your mouth, closing your lips around them.

You hummed, the taste strange but somehow… hers, and you liked it.

When you opened your eyes again, lucy was watching you intently, her gaze heated and unwavering. You felt your own cheeks flush as you let out a shy smile. “you, uh… you taste good,” you said softly, brushing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I like your taste.”

“mmm,” she murmured against your mouth, her smile playful as she kissed you again. “by the way, I like your taste too.”

You chuckled, the intimacy between you felt good, it felt safe. “oh yeah?” You asked laughingly, grinning as she let out a laugh, pulling you in for another kiss, her arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel like she was never letting you go again.

You pulled back just enough to look down at her, her face glowing softly in the candlelight, her eyes warm and waiting. The moment felt charged and before you knew it, the words were on your lips again.

“I love you, lucy.” You just couldn’t stop saying it.

Her eyes softened, looking at you adoringly. “I love you too, y/n. So much.” She leaned up, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both deep and gentle, her hands cradling your face.

As you continued kissing, you felt her hips shifting under you, her breathing quickening. Your hand slipped to the band of her underwear, your eyes searching hers. “is it okay if I…?”

Lucy nodded eagerly, almost breathlessly. “yes, yes.”

You slid the fabric down her hips, watching her lift them slightly to help you, until they were completely off. You couldn’t help but take in the sight of her.

You crawled back over her, mirroring her earlier ways, pressing soft kisses along her skin, doing as she had learned you.

When you reached her chest, you hesitated for just a moment, uncertain but excited. Gently, you placed a soft kitten lick against her hardened bud, looking up at her, searching her face. “is… is that alright?” You asked, voice barely a whisper.

Lucy’s breath hitched slightly, her eyes meeting yours. “yes,” she murmured, her hands brushing encouragingly through your hair. “you can keep going, please.”

Her encouragement gave you a boost of confidence and you lingered there, exploring, letting your mouth take in the soft warmth of her skin, savoring her every shiver and sigh. She made it easy to find rhythm.

After a while you moved lower taking your time as you kissed down her stomach.

You liked the way her muscles twitched under your touch, every little response of hers made you proud. You felt like you where doing good.

When you finally reached the lines just above her core, you could catch her scent. You licked along her v-line, looking up at her. She was biting her lip and her gaze was hungry.

After a few more kisses and licks you paused, leaning back slightly, taking in the sight of her core, her body open and inviting. She didn’t seem to have any problems with showing herself to you.

Gently, you placed your hands on her inner thighs and pushed her legs further open, your gaze taking her in with quiet awe.

As you settled between lucy’s legs, her scent surrounded you, making your heart pound. You weren’t sure where to start, but you let instinct guide you, placing a gentle kisses on her inner thigh before trailing closer to her center.

You hesitated, feeling both excitement and nerves.

You began slowly, tasting her tentatively. It felt unfamiliar and you weren’t sure if you were doing it ‘right,’ but the way lucy’s breath hitched encouraged you.

You continued, experimenting with different movements, trying to focus on her responses.

After a while of trying out different things you felt a dull ache creeping into your jaw, your rhythm faltering. You looked up, eyes meeting hers, trying to read her expression.

Lucy was watching you with a soft, almost amused smile, her gaze warm and reassuring.

“am I… did I do something right? Does it feel nice?” You asked, a bit breathless, cheeks flushed.

She nodded, brushing her fingers along your cheek. “you’re doing so well, really,” she murmured. “we don’t have to keep going if you’re not comfortable. We can go again another time.” Her voice understanding.

You shook your head, wanting her to feel as good as she’d made you feel. “I want to keep going,” you whispered determinedly. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Lucy smiled and shifted, then, her smile changed into a grin, flipping the both of you so that you were lying back against the bed. She hovered over you, peppering your face with light kisses. “tonight’s about you baby.”

You tried to protest, but she leaned in, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. “maybe,” she murmured, “I can make you feel good again?”

You chuckled as she kissed a ticklish spot in your neck. ‘’Luceee.’’

She leaned back and looked lovingly at you, ‘’what is it my beautiful girl?’’ she teasingly asked.

With a hand cupping the back of her neck you pulled her closer, kissing her. Though your mouth was pretty tired.

She smiled in to the kiss and murmured something you couldn’t hear. She kissed your cheek before dipping lower, finding your neck again.

Lucy’s lips lingered at the base of your neck, her hands sliding gently along your sides. She eased her hand lower, fingers trailing down to your inner thigh, her touch sending a shiver through you as anticipation built.

Your legs automatically opened up for her more.

With a look of quiet reassurance, she brought her hand between your legs, letting her thumb circle over your clit in gentle, teasing motions. The sensation was different and you couldn’t help the soft whimpers that slipped from your lips.

Slowly, she let a finger press into you, the movement gentle, exploring, her touch bringing a blend of intensity and tenderness that made you tremble. Lucy’s gaze never left your face, watching your reactions as her finger began to pump in a slow, steady rhythm.

Her thumb continued to press softly against your clit, it felt like she knew just the right balance, just the right pressure to send waves of pleasure rippling through you. The intimacy of her touch, the look in her eyes, everything about the moment felt so personal. It was so.. Intimate.

Your body responded on her instinctively, hips lifting to meet her touch, your breathing growing shallow. The tension built gradually, an ache and a heat growing from her touch as she curled her finger slightly. Every press, every stroke pushed you closer and she sensed it, her thumb circling a little faster as she held you close.

It felt like she knew exactly how your body worked.

A couple moments later the tension within you broke all at once, a rush of euphoria coursing through you as your body shuddered against her hand.

Your breaths came in short gasps, your body quivering as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you feeling weightless and completely undone.

Lucy held you through it, placing soft kisses against your temple as the intensity had faded. You noticed her breath was a little shaky too.

The room was still wrapped in the warm light of candles, shadows flickering gently as lucy and you laid sprawled across the bed, your breaths gradually slowing, chests rising and falling in a non-matching rhythm.

The air felt thick with contentment, like nothing else mattered outside this cozy little haven you’d made together.

After a moment, you shifted, rolling over to rest your head on lucy’s chest, feeling her heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

You traced gentle patterns across her skin, savoring the warmth of her body against yours.

You tilted your head to look up at her, cheeks coloring slightly as you stumbled over your words. “I’m, uh… sorry I didn’t manage to… you know… make you… um…”

Lucy looked down at you with a soft smile, brushing a gentle hand through your hair. “Hey,” she murmured, sitting up slightly so she could meet your eyes. “none of that.”

She took your hand in hers, her thumb tracing circles along your fingers, then flashed a playful grin. “besides,” she teased, “this just gives us more reasons to try again... and again... and again.” She said semi-jokingly.

A laugh slipped out of you. “oh, reallyy?” you replied, trying to sound unimpressed but not quite pulling it off.

“Mhm,” she nodded, eyes sparkling with playful confidence. “Practice makes perfect, you know. and I’m more than happy to help.” She paused, giving you a look that made you wonder if she was about to say something sweet or ridiculous. “I’m actually a really good coach.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the grin that crept onto your face. ‘’Mhm I’m sure you are,’’ you chuckled. She was just too cute.

In a burst of affection, Lucy leaned in and began peppering your face with soft, quick kisses.

Laughing, you half-heartedly pushed her away. “Luce, what are you doing?”

She pressed a kiss near your ear, her voice low and affectionate. “I just love you so much,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, her expression warm. “So, so much.”

Your chest felt light as you chuckled, brushing a lock of her hair back. “I love you too, silly girl.”

“Silly?” She pouted, looking playfully wounded. “why did I deserve that?”

You cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs gently grazing her cheeks. “The best kind of silly.”

She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Alright, then. What’s a silly girl gotta do to get a kiss around here?”

You laughed, “ask.”

She leaned in, her voice soft as her eyes locked with yours. “can I have a kiss?” she whispered, her gaze lingering on your lips.

Your heart fluttered as if it was something special she asked, even though you had kissed her hundreds of times by now, but maybe kissing Lucy would always be special. “ofcourse,” you replied, your voice barely more than a murmur, leaning in until your lips met.

A pleased smile spread across your face as you settled into her arms after breaking the kiss.

“It felt very good, what you did’’ you swallowed, not knowing why you where suddenly a truth-well, ‘’better then most things I did on my own before.” You laughed, cheeks burning at your own honesty. “way better.”

She laughed with you, a light and happy sound. “Perfect,” she smiled, kissing the top of your head, “and it is only going to get better.”

“Can’t wait,” you replied, snuggling closer, “I think I liked what you did that second time best.”

She squeezed you gently, her fingers drawing lazy circles on your shoulder. “Mmmm, did you.”

You nodded against her, placing a kiss down on her neck. ‘’but I liked both.’’

‘’That’s good, I liked both too,’’ she said, her hand traveling from the small of your back to your ass, ‘’and you did well for me too.’’

You got shy, hiding your face against her embarrassed. Groaning, ‘’maybe next time I can do better.’’

‘’Noo baby, you did really well for your first time, it was good, really’’ Lucy cooed, her hand sliding up again, wrapping you up in an embrace.

You relaxed in to her, ‘’mhm.’’

-

After a few quiet moments, you spoke up “think we should take a shower?”

Lucy groaned dramatically, she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “we should… and then we have to turn off, like, a hundred candles.”

You glanced around at the warm glow of the room, half-hoping you both could stay cozily wrapped up in bed forever.

Lucy laughed, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “but we can handle all that later. First, we should eat.”

A grin spread across your face as your stomach let out a rumbling growl. “mmm, yes,” you sighed, sinking deeper against her. “you were so cute buying all my favorites. Seriously, when I saw the packaging..’’ you sighed contently ‘’you are my soulmate.”

She grinned proudly. “had to get it all perfect.’’ She shifted, coming up from under you, ‘’mkay, give me one second—I’ll be right back.”

Lucy slipped out of bed, grabbing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from the nearby chair.

She shot you a little smile as she headed toward the door. You watched her go before slipping under the covers.

A few moments later, lucy returned, balancing a plate of food in one hand and a cold bottle of water in the other. “room service for madame” she announced with a playful grin, kicking the door shut behind her.

You sat up, a grin spreading across your face as you watched her come back over. “m fancy treatment,” you chuckled, pulling the covers up around you as you settled against the headboard, “I’ll have to leave a good tip.”

She settled down beside you, placing the plate and water on the nightstand and leaned in to brush her lips against yours. “you are my favorite customer,” she murmured with a soft smile.

You gave her a shy smile, cheeks warm as you took a piece of food of the plate. “mmm, I think this kind of ‘dinner in bed’ will be my new favorite thing.”

Lucy laughed, reaching for a baby tomato. “I’m glad, because I’ll be happy to make it a regular thing.”

As you both ate the food, you nestled against her, letting the quiet, cozy warmth settle between you. You leaned your head on her shoulder, gazing up at her. “I feel so lucky that you’re my girlfriend.”

Lucy’s eyes softened, her fingers tracing along your arm. “I feel pretty damn lucky too.”

a/n; Okay I hope that was good. Thank you again, @bruhnze and thank you to the people liking and sharing!

[bunniesanddeer]

Hate: Part Two

Part two to this fic: Part One

Pairings: Alastor X Reader, (Hints of Angel Dust/Husk)

Warnings: Reader still hates Alastor, Reluctant enemies to enemies with benefits, angst, so much angst, Angel is a good friend, SMUT

Word Count: 5,109

MINORS DNI

Everything was awkward, now. You couldn’t look in any direction without being faced with evidence of his existence. He was absolutely everywhere, and not always in person. His coat folded neatly over the arm of a chair. The spices in the cupboard that he got specifically for when he made dinner. The red radio in the library. His scent lingered in your bed, even after the sheets had been changed twice. The bruises had stayed for weeks, dull green marks pressed into the dimples of your hips. 

Sometimes, when he spoke, you had such a visceral, subconscious reaction. Your body would jolt, your ears pricking and swiveling. It was embarrassing how obvious it was, but thankfully for you, the worst was over. Your heat had long ended, and you had made it a goal to avoid ever interacting with him again.

Alastor, being the bastard he was, made it as difficult as possible. It seemed that when you told him that nothing would change, he made it his goal to continue to piss you off as much as possible. He would be outside your door when you woke up on the weekend, and would insist on walking you down to breakfast. If he was at the table, he’d pull out your chair, and dare you to deny him in front of Charlie. (How could you? The puppy eyes she gave you whenever you turned to take another chair could kill someone). So you’d sit, and he’d give you the most shit-eating grin every time. It made your skin crawl. 

Alastor would find time to ask you about whatever you were doing. He’d ask insane questions, and he’d follow you around if you tried to ignore him. You’d be talking to Angel, and Alastor would leer over your shoulder, getting impossibly close without actually touching you. You quickly learned how to keep your expression flat, but your conversation partner, often Angel or Husk, would always react, making it harder. 

There was one line, however, that he never crossed again. He never went inside your room. On multiple occasions he’d asked, but you’d firmly said no, (if a “fuck no, die,” was a firm no). He’d take your answer, and mosey on his way. 

And so you suffered under his strange attentions for several weeks. Charlie did her best to give him tasks to keep the two of you separated, when she could, but he was eerily efficient, all in the name of bugging you some more. Vaggie, on multiple occasions, had offered to skewer him with her spear, but you’d denied, the thought of Charlie’s dismay stopping you. 

Angel, nearing his namesake, (not the drug, thank Lucifer), was always close at hand when he wasn’t at work. And one night, seeing how stressed you were, he decided it was time to let loose. 

“C’mon babe! You know you want to-”, Angel crooned, swinging the bottle of liquor in front of your face. Husk huffed in the background, shaking his head lovingly. “Come onnnnnnn. Let loose with me, an’ ol’ Husky!”

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, and shrug your shoulders. “Alright, you bitch. Fine. Pour me one.”

Angel pumps two of his hands in the air, and then just hands you the bottle. You stare flabbergasted at the bottle, and he just laughs. “Oh, you can down that straight! I’ve seen you. Don’t even lie to me right now.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter as you take a swig. You immediately wince. Whatever Angel handed you burns like hell, and you can’t help but take a glance at the label to try and figure out what it is. It’s written in French, and unfortunately tastes like licorice. “God, what is this?”

“It appears to be absinthe, my dear,” Alastor’s voice drawls from above you. You jump, nearly dropping the bottle. Your heart is pounding, and all you can think to do is glare at him. His smile wedges wider, and you want to punch his ugly yellow teeth in. 

Without responding, you whip your head around and glare at Angel. “You gave me fucking absinthe? What’s the fucking — what’s the alcohol percentage?” You peer down at the label, and struggle to find the percentage. Alastor’s claw taps at small numbers underneath the name. 

“74%. Definitely French, although how you got that down here, my friend, I would very much like to know.” Alastor peers down at the bottle with renewed interest, and you can’t help but agree. This is from the mortal plane, and goods from there are rare. Someone had to smuggle it, and there are only so many that have access. You hum, and then the shock hits you.

“YOU GAVE ME THIS? Oh my goodness! Angel! Do you know how much this must cost?!” You rush to set it down on Husk’s bar top, and back away from it. “Dude! Not cool.” Your ears pin back, and you give Angel a light swat. He just keeps laughing, and Husk seems to be joining in.

“Figured you could use the stress relief, kid. It’s all yours.” Husk says it like it means nothing, still cleaning up behind the bar, but your eyes go wide. Husk is so rarely nice like this, and it makes your chest ache. You have friends. You have friends and you absolutely love them. 

Your eyes are on the verge of tearing up, but you swallow it down. “Aw, I love you too!”

Angel laughs, pointing a finger at Husk, and hugs you with his extra arms. “We love you too, doll! Now let’s get drinking!”

You can hear a scoff come from the demon behind you, but you ignore it. Who cares what he thinks? You ask for a shot glass from Husk, grab the bottle, and settle in on one of the couches. Unfortunately, Alastor follows, and settles in the armchair across from you. You settle a glare on him, and then pour yourself a drink. You are going to ignore him, you can do this.

Husk and Angel settle on the other couch, and Angel points at you. “We’re gonna play a game! To spice things up. So, tell me toots, what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?”

You cock your head. “Mortal, or down here?”

Angel’s face scrunches up as he thinks. “Mortal,” he decides. No one has really shared much about their mortal lives, so it’s relatively interesting. 

“Well, if we’re talking about something I survived, then probably dislocating my shoulder. Most intense pain I had ever felt. Boyfriend had grabbed my armed and pulled a little too hard. But, if it’s not surviving that matters, probably how I died.” You don’t think on it too long, the pain flaring in your shoulder as if it had just happened. It had really hurt, too.

Angel leans forward, and even Alastor’s ear prick up. You try to keep from letting your gaze slide to him. “Ooo! How’d you die? C’mon! Tell me. You’ve gotta!”

Angel’s excitement nearly makes your eyes roll out of your head. Of course, he’d be interested, the bastard. 

“I’m not gonna give you all the details,” you start, downing the shot and ignoring his sad ‘aw’. “But I will say, that the other guy got worse. Bet the asshole is drifting around down here.” You can’t help the sour look that passes over your face. You’d been in your late twenties, and some guy went and screwed over everything. 

Alastor cocks his head, clearly intrigued. The look on his face tells you he very much wants to ask a question, but is restraining himself. The ‘why’ itches the back of your skull, but you just feel annoyed with yourself. You keep glancing over at him. 

“Anyway. My turn. Uh. Husk. How much can you drink in five minutes?” Your face burns, and you just want this annoying feeling to go away.

“We don’t have enough to prove it.” His tail lazily twitches behind him, and his face is the epitome of boredom. You and Angel just blink at him. Laughter bursts out of the two of you, and a smile twitches across Husk’s face.

“Wowza! Was not expecting that to be yer answer, babes.” Angel wipes a tear from his eyes, and leans back. “Your turn.”

Husk hums and glances at Alastor before turning back to Angel. “Would you eat a cockroach for fifty bucks?”

“Wha— no? They’re like, basically my cousins babe! That’s fuckin’ gross!”

Your whole body lurches, desperately wanting to laugh, but your brain is halted, trying to process his answer. A glance across from you, and Alastor’s eyebrows are hitched nearly to his hairline. He glances back at you, and you can’t help it. You laugh so hard that it hurts. Your belly aches, and your ribs have a stitch growing in them. Your ears pin back as you try to calm yourself down, but it’s all so absurd; your friends, the asshole in the room. Everything is just so screwed up right now. (If you don’t laugh, maybe you’ll cry, and that’s so much more embarrassing). 

“Sorry,” you start to say, taking a swig directly from the bottle. “Just, thought it was funny.”

All three men in the room are giving you strange looks, and you want to shrink in on yourself. God, could they not look anywhere else?

“Your turn, Angel,” you say, gently prodding him to start the conversation back up.

“Oh! Right. Hey Al, what’s your favorite position?”

You and Husk stiffen, and turn your attention to Alastor. His brows are pressed together, and his fingers twitch.

“What ever could you mean?” You can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused or if he’s annoyed. He’s always so good at shadowing one emotion with another, or maybe you are terrible at reading him, You never could discern between his expressions.

Angel laughs, and waves a hand. “Oh, come on, Al! You know, in bed. What’s your favorite position in bed?”

“Asleep,” Alastor bluntly replies, and it draws a snort from you. His eyes meet yours for a second as his grin grows. You stare at the floor.

“No, no! For sex, Al. What’s your favorite sex position?” 

You cringe, and from the corner of your eye, can see Alastor’s leg twitch, shifting when he’s normally so still. 

When the quiet pause lasts longer than you thought it would, you look up, and Alastor is staring straight at you. His gaze is intense, and his smile is as close to being flat as it could be, (excluding that night. The line of his mouth, the softness in his eyes), and he’s just staring at you. His brows furrow and smoothen, and the corner of his mouth twists. 

“I think I prefer it on all fours.” He cocks his head, and his sharp smile grows wide. His eyes narrow, and you feel like prey, caught in the claws of its demise. Your ears flatten back as he speaks, “I like them on their belly.”

You stand up, setting the bottle down on the coffee table, and point at him. “FUCK YOU!”

Husk and Angel watch on, eyes wide. Angel settles a hand on Husk’s knee, and squeezes.

“Fuck you Alastor! You came to ME! Not the other way around!” You clench your teeth together, trying to force down your shaking. You’re so fed up.

“Wait, what?” You hear Angel mutter, but Alastor is standing up, and it’s all you can focus on.

“Yes, but it was you who needed me. Don’t pretend like you did not like it, my dear! Nothing can change that it happened. There’s no point in pretending it didn’t.” He sounds so calm, and it infuriates you. He doesn’t get to pull this shit with you. You want him down on your level.

“Oh-ho. No. I told you nothing would change. I was EXPLICIT with that fact. I hate your fucking guts. Just because Hell decided your dick was the only one my body wanted, doesn’t change that. You don’t get to just be a goddamn puppy now, constantly begging for my attention! Why are you like that? Stop following me around! I hate you! You hate me! Get the fuck over it!”

His eyes are narrowed, and his ears tipped back. “So presumptuous, ma douce. You think to understand my motives, and you barely understand yours.”

You bare your teeth at him. “You snuck into my room, for my attention. You’re so damn desperate. Is that what this is? You want me to like you that bad, that you’ll fuck me to get it?”

Alastor’s expression screams that he thinks you’re stupid. “Oh, you know nothing, do you, dearest?”

“Fuck you.”

“You already have.”

Angel stands up, setting himself between you. You hadn’t even noticed that the two of you had stepped closer to each other. “Whoa, whoa. Calm down.” He turns to Alastor. “You went to their room? You told me you were leaving for the night!”

Alastor answers without missing a beat. “I lied.”

You want to scream. You pull at your hair, and turn to the side, trying to slow your breathing. This insufferable bastard. 

“I’m going to bed,” you finally huff. You take off towards the stairs. You just want to go to bed. Fuck everything. All of them. He makes your head hurt. 

Halfway to your room, you notice the static. He’s following you. Great.

You turn around, and glare at him. “What do you want?”

His expression is strangely open. His smile is smaller than usual, and he keeps glancing behind him. Why is his behavior always like this? So back and forth. You can never understand him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” He finally says. His brows pinch together, and he opens his mouth, but shuts it again.

“I have. It’s easy.” You lie. It’s such a lie. When you are in bed at night, you can feel the ghost of his hands trailing your thighs, your neck. You can feel him cradle your head as he presses a strange kiss to your shoulder. It’s an ache, but the deep burning hatred is stronger. It burns the ghosts to ash, and it leaves you feeling empty. 

Alastor seems hurt by your words, but almost as if he expected them. “I want to do it again. I want—” He stops himself, hesitating. You just want him to get it over with so you can go to bed. It’s all so exhausting. “I want to touch you again, ma biche. I have been trying to get you to spend time with me, so I could bring it up naturally, but I have not been able to find the time or the words appropriate.” He swallows, and shifts, and you can feel his static swell. “I have never wanted someone before. It’s normally an urge that is easily handled alone, but you are different. I want to know why. And I want to get rid of this feeling. It’s hard to concentrate.” He coughs, and avoids your gaze for a moment, before staring back at you.

You fucking knew it. This asshole. Of course, this is what it is. He just wants his dick wet again, now that he’s had you. You scoff.

“Is that all this is for? Are you kidding me?” You frown at him and shake your head. “This is ridiculous.” You take a deep breath. “Will you leave me alone if we have sex?”

His expression twitches, and for some reason you feel like he is about to lie. “Yes, I suppose I can do that.”

You want to scream. You want to drag him to your room. You want to throw something. You settle on asking, “My room or yours?”

The two of you go to your room. He mutters about not having your scent in his room, and you shrug. You’re closer to yours anyway. 

When you enter the room, you start to strip off your clothing, anger clouding any shame. You can hear his noise of surprise, but make your way to the bed, ignoring him. Down to your bra and underwear, you sit on the bed, looking over him. 

“How are we doing this?” You want to poke at him over his comment from earlier, but decide not to. 

“I believe that I would like you in my lap. I’ve been having… dreams about it.” Alastor struggles to say it while unbuttoning his shirt. You quietly watch while processing his request. You’d have to be facing him. Can you do that? Would looking at his face prevent orgasm, or would it not matter? You hum, and nod.

“Alright. No kissing though.” He acquiesces, and settles onto the edge of the bed, shucking off his pants. His briefs are loose, and black. 

“Where should I be?” His question is asked softly, and it makes you hesitate to be mean. You decide to just focus on the act, and not who he is. It’s better that way, isn’t it? 

“Do you want me riding, or actually in your lap? If you want the former, just lie down. For the latter, sit up, settle against the headboard.” You gesture with your hands, and stand up to remove your undergarments. He eyes your motions as he sits against the headboard. You internally sigh. You really wish that isn’t what he wanted. 

He’s still wearing his briefs when you settle into his lap. His legs are bony, and they press awkwardly against your ass, so you wriggle to get comfortable. Alastor’s hands, thin and graceful, and incredibly sharp at the ends, settle on your hips. (You have to beg your mind not to focus on the fact that you’ll likely have a new set of bruises, overlapping prettily with the last set). 

Alastor’s head is level with yours, the tall bastard, so you turn yours into the crux of his neck, and sigh. Alright, you’re doing this again. You can do it. It doesn’t matter that you really want to punch him. His dick is kind of nice. You can do this. 

You roll your hips against him, starting a gentle rhythm. His fingers squeeze you, and you can tell he’s holding back. His grip is soft, and his thumbs rub back and forth, tracing a lazy pattern into your skin. You take a deep breath in, and immediately regret it. His scent is incredibly strong at his neck. It feels overwhelming, and you have to blink repeatedly to drive the dizziness away. 

The gentle rhythm of your hips eventually makes it clear that he’s getting hard. His thumbs hesitate every couple of thrusts, as if the feeling was too much for him to even lazily move his fingers back and forth. His cock rubbing against you, even through two layers of fabric, is kind of nice, you have to admit. Alastor feels nice, and the warmth of him is enjoyable too. You can’t tell if you are trying to convince yourself, or if that is how you actually feel. You don’t get to find out, because his hands grip down harder.

“Can I rock your hips, dearest?” His voice is rough, and the sudden noise makes you glance at him. His gaze is fuzzy, and he seems unfocused. The look wrecks you; he’s being vulnerable, the bastard, and you can barely look at him. You barely manage a nod, but his sharp grin is your reward.

His tight grip on your hips shifts just a little lower, to the crux of your hips and outer thighs. He presses you down onto his erection, and rocks you against him. The easy way he moves your whole body reminds you of the strength in his lithe body. You can’t help the admiration you feel, although it is quickly drowned out by the rocking of your body.

“Ma bichette, you feel so good,” he whispers. He presses you down rougher, and it feels as if he’s trying to slide into you through the scraps of fabric dividing you. “I want to feel you, dearest. I want to fill you and hold you. Je veux vous faire plaisir, mon cœur. You are so good for me, let me make you feel good.”

You rear up, pressing your hands against his chest as your eyes widen in shock. He absolutely pushed too far. That upsetting feeling from your heat is back. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes again. He is being far too nice, but you love it. You want him to make you feel good, want him to call you nice things. The anger that festers in your belly, that ever present loathing is blanketed by desire for him, and you give in. 

“Okay,” you quietly reply. Alastor’s eyes flutter, and then he is lifting you up on your knees, and attempting to remove your underwear. You assist him, and then sit back to let him remove his own. You settle back in his lap, your naked sex against his cock. The heat lifts a groan from you. You look at him, take in the mess of his hair, the set of his eyes, and you frown. “No kissing,” you remind him. You can’t let him cross that boundary. You’ve only kissed people you loved, and you hate him. Obviously. 

There’s a twitch of his brows, but he assents. His large hands settle back on you. One sits flush against the front of your thighs, and his thumb brushed against the hood of your clit. You gently huff, and roll your hips against him. Alastor’s hips twitch, and he groans.

His touch is perfectly coordinated, his eyes settled on your flushed, and quickly growing wet, sex. His teeth separate, and you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. It doesn’t smell the way you thought it might. 

“You are a sight, my dear. So pretty. I want to fill you, and see how far that blush of yours spreads.” His eyes flick up to your face, briefly, and then he's focused on the tight circles of his thumb on your clit. 

You don’t have the time to think of a response, because he’s pressing harder. White noise fills your ears, and with a single sharp thrust of his hips against yours, you feel your body clenching down on nothing. Your head tilts back, and your hands reach out, trying to grasp onto anything. You find purchase on his shoulders, and dig your blunted claws in, letting out a cry. You can hear Alastor’s grunt, but can barely focus on it. He just keeps circling his thumb. 

“Yes! Ma douce! Cum for me, dearest.” His other hand presses you down against him, and he thrusts up against your wet heat. 

You let out a harsh breath, his name slipping from clenched teeth. “Alastor – please!”

He lifts you, just slightly, your thick slick stringing between the two of you, and he uses one hand to guide his cock. “Just a moment, my doe.”

And finally, his erection is pressing into you, your slick letting him slide in with only just a bit of resistance. When your bodies finally sit flush, you both let out sighs. You forgot just how full he made you feel, and it hadn’t even been terribly long.

You take a deep breath, barely making eye contact with him, (how can you? He’s got this expression that’s nigh on impossible to name), and then you lift your hips. It’s that first drag that nearly knocks you over. You can feel his cock dragging against your velvety insides. Even with how wet you are, the friction is overwhelming. 

Your breath comes out in stutters, and your thighs shake with the effort to not just drop back down on him. Your hands on his shoulders clench, and then you settle back down. His resulting groan makes you clench. You’re still so sensitive from him getting you off first, so you shake with the effort to keep riding him. 

“Dearest,” Alastor says, his hot breath fanning across your face. “Would you like some help?”

You lock your gaze with him and drop on his dick rather harshly, and his eyes flutter. His hands flex, claws lightly grazing your skin. He’s being so careful, and it bothers you. 

“What does ‘help’ look like to you?” You ask, your residual anger tinting your words. Are you not going fast enough for his liking?

His hips thrust up, just enough to spear you further, and you rock your hips in response. The heat, the fullness, it keeps knocking the breath out of you. It’s so unfair. You need him just as off-kilter as you are. (But isn’t he already? Your head is fuzzy. You aren’t thinking straight).

One of his hands reaches up and cradles the back of your head, and then the world is shifting around you. Your thighs are slotted over his hips nicely, and the hand that had been holding your head is propping him up. You’re on your back. (How did he do that so effortlessly? He seems so experienced – it’s a thought that suddenly makes you unhappy). 

“Worry not, dearest. You were spectacular, but I’m losing my marbles.” He rolls his hips against yours, and you clench your eyes closed. It’s overwhelming. The heat is pooling in your navel, and there’s this fuzzy feeling to your hands and feet. You can practically feel his static scattering over the surface of your skin. “Yes, you are very good, mon cœur. I cannot get enough.”

His words make your eyes open, just a touch, and you gaze up at him. His eyes are already searching for yours, and the soft smile he’s giving you – you feel like you’re going to throw up. How could he do this to you? He doesn’t get to be such a dick, then go on and fuck you within an inch of your sanity while praising you. It’s not fair. 

Alastor starts thrusting his hips, his ears bouncing just a little at the effort. He’s on his knees, and the hand on your hip squeezes every other thrust. You can smell the musk the two of you make, and it has you dizzy. It’s a nice smell, but you know it’ll never wash out of your sheets. You might have to just change rooms when all is said and done. 

He suddenly shifts, settling further back on his knees, and both of his hands are lifting you up. “Is this alright, my doe?” He asks as he lifts your knees to his shoulders. 

Your eyes widen. He’s going to hit spots in you that you’ve probably never felt. His cock is already large, but this position is going to ruin you. However, you just can’t say no. You aren’t sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the fact that you’re barely in your own head. With a rough swallow, you nod. 

He pants, and then you’re folded in on yourself, your slit snug against him, thighs cradling his head. His arms framed your head, and his weight pressed down on you. Each breath the two of you took was hard, and they mingled in the space between you. His forehead pressed against yours, and he kept your gaze as he began his rhythm again. 

Your hands could no longer be kept in check. What little of him you could reach was quickly grabbed onto for dear life. You were panting, and every drag of his cock had your walls quivering. 

For a moment all you could hear was the wet sound of your bodies rocking together, and the harsh breaths each of you took, but then you heard it. He was muttering to himself.

“Al- Alastor, what?” You asked quietly. Another harsh thrust of his hips and you moaned, your mind briefly dragged away from the thought. 

“Just singing your praise, dearest.” His left hand lifted just slightly, and his thumb rubbed against your cheek to the rhythm of his snapping of his hips. “You are wonderful. I just adore this with you. You are ever so soft, and tight, my doe.” 

You startle, eyes locked back on him. His smile is crooked, and he looks so genuine. That deep, angry ache is back in your chest, and it nearly clouds the lust and the wonderful sensations he’s flooding you with. 

“Je te veux. Je ne veux personne d'autre que toi. Je veux que tu aies envie de moi. Pourquoi ne le fais-tu pas?” He whispers to you in words you cant understand, but his eyes are fuzzy, and his smile is small, and soft. Alastor cups your face ever so softly, and he rocks his hips roughly against yours.

Suddenly the pace he sets is incredibly fast, and you can feel that tightness building again. You scratch at him, barely able to get air into your lungs. You can’t focus on much more than the deep heat beneath your navel, and the furrow of his brows. (Some small part of you wants to ease it with your fingers). 

His grip on your face tightens a smidgen, and then he rolls his hip and takes his right hand to rub at your clit. His thumb is in tight circles again, and he’s clenching his teeth and all your limbs go tingly and–

Everything is white-hot. There are lightning bolts zipping down your spine, making your back arch. Your mouth is open, but the buzzing in your ears makes it impossible to tell if you’re making any noise.

He’s still moving, but he’s reaching for your face, too. He cups it, his large hands holding you still as his cock continues slamming into you. Alastor is muttering again, but you can only tell from the movement of his lips. His mouth opens, a harsh pant leaving him before his body stills suddenly. His teeth clack shut, and he curls into you, the head of his cock brushing your cervix. You’re still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and can barely comprehend the feeling. It’s nearly too much. 

He’s breathing hard, and he just barely sits back. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. His thumb brushes the skin just underneath your eyes, and there is a wistful smile on his face. He seems so far away, and you can’t comprehend why. Isn’t this what he wanted?

You’re about to ask when he slots his lips over yours. He’s warm, and his lips are soft. It only lasts a moment, and then he’s gone. 

You’re left empty, messy, and alone. 

You sit up in the darkness of your room, glancing around. 

“Alastor?”

I will post on my blog, giving an update. Feel free to check it out if you're wondering what's been so long.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I agree it clearly started with the queen passing away, he saw the reaction she got and noticed the difference immediately. But I actually think the nuclear thing that completed tilted his world was the double diagnoses earlier this year. I think that was the first time he saw a massive opportunity that would have given him a platform that really rivaled William on the world stage and William would have gone away willingly for nearly all of it. I think he really ramped up negotiations to try for access back, and we saw so much in the lead up to his 40th. But nothing worked and now we’re seeing A reaction.

I suspect that one of the underlying more complicated feelings he had was anger towards Meghan’s reaction about Kate diagnoses. Harry’s PR was clear and very different than Meghan’s earlier this year, it was direct in wanting to re connect and check in and help. Where as Meghan’s was pissed she didn’t know and then she released ARO which failed because she wanted all the attention.

I don't think I agree with you on Harry seeing the two diagnoses and William's stepping back to care for his wife and his father as an opportunity to build a new platform. I think Meghan certainly saw that (she did launch ARO as soon as it became clear Kate was "out of competition") but I don't think Harry felt that way, because he didn't really do anything different or start any new projects.

I think the impact of the diagnoses in January was Harry realizing for the first time how totally out of the family and cut off he was. Because remember, when Philip died, Harry was included. When The Queen celebrated her Platinum Jubilee, the Sussexes were included. When Her Late Majesty died, Harry and Meghan were included. When Charles had his coronation, Harry was included.

Harry was not included when Charles and Kate announced their cancer diagnoses. In the "before," Harry probably would have been among the first people that Charles and William confided in. But now? Harry learned about Charles's diagnosis only an hour before we all did and Harry learned about Kate's diagnosis exactly when we all did. That had to be incredibly devastating for Harry, and everything he's done since then - for me - lines up with Harry trying to get that "in" back and trying to demonstrate to the rest of us that he has that "in" back.

After all, just imagine the blow to his ego that the whole world sees how irrelevant he is that his own brother doesn't include him anymore when 9 years ago, William named Harry as one of the top five people he turns to for support.

But no sympathy from me. It's the consequences of his own actions smacking him head-on.

[joyfulcowboycandy]

My muse

Malleus Draconia x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: ...it's fluffy. Maybe that there are no established relationships? Oh, Y/n has social anxiety here and is an artist. Y/n takes yuu's place and no grim! :( he was turned into cat stew

Note: This is 4.1k words. Brace yourself ......Gosh I love Malleus, I have so many ideas for him........ I love good girl x bad boy typa dynamics I'm sooo not used to posting my ideas it's nervewrecking to share something so personal to me. I'm glad people seem to like them still!

fem reader

The sprawling stone arches of Night Raven College towered overhead as Y/n looked around, her heart a chaotic blend of excitement and unease. She was surrounded by bustling students, each one glancing her way with varying degrees of curiosity and indifference, but all carrying an air of mystique and confidence. She swallowed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep herself from looking too out of place, which was easier said than done. She felt like a fish out of water—a lost, magicless girl in a sea of powerful beings, standing out not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice.

The courtyard buzzed with conversation, but every once in a while, a murmur seemed directed her way, and she could catch bits and pieces of whispered phrases.

“Is she the magicless one?”

“She doesn’t look like she belongs here…”

“Oh, she looks nervous.”

Her cheeks warmed at the attention, and she felt an urge to shrink into herself, maybe find a corner where she could hide until everything settled down. But she took a steadying breath instead. She had to be brave—she’d promised herself that she’d make this strange place work, somehow. After all, this was a second chance, an escape from a life she’d rather leave behind. If she was going to find herself anywhere, it might as well be here, in this strange, enchanted school. Even if it meant being the “magicless” one.

Lost in thought, Y/n barely noticed the approaching figures until one leaned in close, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, little guppy,” Floyd drawled, his grin wide and sharp. He poked her lightly, his finger pressing right into her shoulder, making her stumble back a step in surprise. “Aren’t you jumpy? You look like you’re about to pass out!”

She let out a shaky laugh, cheeks flushed. “N-No, I’m fine! Just… adjusting.”

“Awww, look at that.” Jade, Floyd’s twin, sidled up on her other side, his voice smooth but carrying that same teasing edge. “It’s always refreshing to have someone with such… natural reactions. Isn’t that right, Floyd?”

Floyd snickered, leaning closer until she had to tilt her head up just to look at him. “It’s hilarious,” he said, his grin widening as he seemed to take in every flustered detail of her expression. “What, did no one ever tease you back home?”

Y/n’s gaze darted down, a nervous laugh slipping out. “W-Well, no… not really,” she admitted softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Well, that’s a pity.” Jade’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “We’ll just have to make up for all that lost time.”

They laughed, and though she couldn’t help the heat spreading across her cheeks, she managed to laugh along, even if a little nervously.

As the twins wandered off, leaving her to catch her breath, she exhaled, trying to release the nervous energy buzzing through her. She caught herself fidgeting again, trying to brush off the lingering embarrassment. Her shyness had always been a part of her, something she hadn’t been able to shake, even here. It was hard enough to make friends back home; she could only imagine how much harder it would be in a school full of people who seemed so confident, so... powerful.

But beneath her anxious thoughts, there was something else—an excitement, faint but real. A tiny spark of curiosity to explore, to learn everything she could about this world and the people in it. Here, she was no longer tied to the past, to the hurt and broken pieces she’d left behind. Here, she could be whoever she wanted. She could start again.

Even if it took her a thousand blushes, a hundred nervous laughs, and countless teasing encounters.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Living at Night Raven College and dealing with anxiety was difficult on its own. Y/N was the only female in the entire school, a fact known to everyone. Although the boys were decent enough not to be creepy or weird, they often teased her. She was always falling asleep in class or arriving late, which frequently earned her lectures from the teachers. This made her an easy target for teasing, though the boys never meant any harm (she hoped). She just wanted to stay on their good side. She wasn’t able to make any actual friends; her social anxiety always got in the way, and while she wasn't exactly avoided, she didn’t have anyone to confide in or talk to. She never blamed the boys, understanding that her anxiety made social interactions challenging.

Art was her only way to express herself, a cherished hobby since childhood. When she drew, she didn't need to worry about stumbling over her words or fiddling with her shirt to distract from her racing heart. It was also the only thing she had from her life back on Earth. She arrived in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but her own body and knowledge—not even the clothes on her were from home. She felt completely empty, making her art even more comforting.

Unfortunately, her inspiration always struck at night. She never understood why, but she did her best work during those hours. This habit interfered with her schoolwork and potential friendships, contributing to her clumsiness and constant drowsiness in class. She didn’t get enough sleep, being too busy illustrating the random things that caught her eye around the empty campus or the garden outside the Ramshackle dorm.

One night, she was by the old fountain, peering into the dirty water and watching her squirming reflection. The garden was beautiful, with slightly overgrown grass and numerous bushes and flowers she loved to draw. It was also peaceful, offering a gorgeous view of the moon high in the dark sky. Twisted Wonderland wasn’t much different from Earth, aside from the glaring difference of magic and slightly outdated technology. She was happy they at least had art supplies and canvases, which she was allowed to borrow. No one else seemed interested in drawing, so the supplies had been rotting in the storage room. When she asked to use them, Crowley was overjoyed that someone would finally make use of them.

Sitting in peace, enjoying the silence and the slight rustle of leaves, she sketched an owl glaring down at her from a tree a few feet away. She stayed silent, limiting her movements to avoid scaring it.

However, the sound of approaching footsteps startled the owl, causing it to fly away. Y/N gasped in disappointment, standing up from her seat as she watched the owl disappear into the little forest. It was then she noticed the presence that had joined her in the quiet garden. Tightening her grip on her pen and notebook, she reluctantly turned to face the intruder, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing Malleus Draconia.

Malleus stood silently, his eyes analyzing her with intrigue. Despite his fearsome reputation and the rumors that surrounded him, Y/N felt something akin to adoration. Under the moonlight, his horns, long hair, and calm, calculating eyes made him appear otherworldly. An urge to draw him struck her.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “Can I draw you?”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a subtle reaction that she noticed. The corners of his lips curled into an amused smile, and he tilted his head slightly. The sight made Y/N's heart leap in her chest. She realized how strange her request was, especially as the first thing she had ever said to him. She felt embarrassed and stupid for being so weird, but she couldn’t deny how striking he looked under the moonlight. If he agreed to her request, she would be overjoyed.

Malleus studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Very well,” he finally said, his voice smooth and resonant. “You may draw me.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten in her excitement. She quickly found a comfortable spot to sit and began sketching, her eyes darting between Malleus and her sketchbook.

As she worked, Malleus watched her with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why do you wish to draw me?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N paused, considering her words carefully. “Umm… you looked really pretty under the moonlight,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve never seen horns like yours before, or eyes such a vibrant neon green. They’re really pretty.”

Malleus’s smile widened slightly, an almost imperceptible shift. “Is that so?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You find my appearance... pretty?”

Y/N nodded, her focus returning to her sketch. “Yes! I do,” she admitted.

They continued in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of leaves and the scratch of her pencil on paper. Y/N’s initial nerves faded as she immersed herself in her art. When she finished, she held up the sketch for Malleus to see.

Malleus studied the drawing, his expression unreadable. “You have captured more than just my appearance,” he said quietly. “How curious.”

Y/N smiled shyly. “I’m happy you think so.”

Malleus continued to observe the sketch, his expression contemplative. “Do you come here every night?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the drawing to her eyes.

Y/N nodded, her previous excitement fading into shyness now that the high from drawing had worn off. “I do,” she replied softly. “I get inspiration here, and it’s comforting.” She fidgeted with the corner of her sketchbook, her voice growing quieter. “I like drawing here at night.”

Malleus tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You prefer solitude?”

“Sometimes…” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s peaceful. And… I guess it’s easier than trying to talk to people. Drawing doesn’t judge me or expect me to say the right things.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not very good at that.”

Malleus studied her for a moment, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his features. “I see. You find solace in your art,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

Y/N nodded again, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. I-It’s the one thing I can always count on.”

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Malleus seemed to understand her in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite his imposing presence and the intimidating rumors that surrounded him, she felt a surprising sense of ease in his company.

“You may continue to draw here,” Malleus said finally, his tone gentle yet authoritative. “And should you desire company, you have but to call for me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. “Thank you!”

As Malleus began to walk away, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. "Wait," she called out, making him pause and turn back to face her. "Um- can I ask you something?"

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement still in his eyes. "You may."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N asked, "Are you really a prince? And a dragon!?"

Malleus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I am. Prince of the Briar Valley and a descendant of the dragon fae."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "That’s so cool! Everyone always says you're super strong, but we're not in the same year, so I’ve never seen it myself. Can you… show me?"

Malleus considered her request for a moment, then extended his hand. A green, magical aura surrounded him, and suddenly, ethereal, dragon-like wings appeared on his back, glowing in the moonlight. He didn't transform fully but gave her a glimpse of his power and heritage.

Y/N gasped in awe, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Wow," she breathed. "That’s amazing! You’re so cool."

Malleus retracted his wings, the aura fading as he resumed his usual form. "I am pleased that you think so," he said, his tone carrying a hint of pride.

Her mind still reeling from what she had witnessed, Y/N asked, "Can I draw you again another time? I mean, like this?"

He seemed to ponder her request, his gaze thoughtful. "Very well," he said finally. "You may. It is an honor to be your muse," he said, a teasing smile finding its way to his lips. "Perhaps we shall meet again tomorrow night?"

Y/N’s felt her face flush at his words. “M-my muse? And, yes! Okay!”

With a final, lingering glance, Malleus turned and disappeared into the early morning mist, and she returned to her dorm, with only a few hours left till school would start.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Since their initial meeting, Y/N’s encounters with Malleus grew in frequency, with each night solidifying their connection. Malleus had essentially become her muse, and she would show up with her art supplies, sketching and drawing him in numerous ways. He indulged her artistic passion, finding himself curious about her life while also sharing his own interests, particularly his fascination with gargoyles. She soon learned that his interest was so profound that he had created his own club dedicated to studying them, a fact she found incredibly cool.

Malleus, in turn, was intrigued by Y/N’s attraction to the very qualities that others found intimidating or unapproachable about him. Her genuine curiosity and admiration for aspects of his personality that were often deemed dark or formidable caught him off guard. He began to test her, asking questions designed to make her uncomfortable or to challenge her perception of him. Yet, to his surprise, she never faltered. Her view of him remained unchanged, always seeing the good in him.

It was a quality Malleus found both unusual and deeply attractive, especially in a place like Night Raven College, where cynicism and mistrust were more common than kindness and acceptance.

It seemed like just any other night when they met up in the overgrown garden, surrounded by flowers, bushes, overgrown grass, and the occasional firefly or grasshopper that graced them with its presence. Y/N, with her sketchbook in hand, was prepared to capture Malleus’s likeness once again. 

However, her curiosity had gotten the better of her tonight. She had grown so used to his company that she had momentarily forgotten his title as a literal prince.

Her eyes kept darting to his horns, the dark, curved structures that were as much a part of him as his regal demeanor. She couldn’t hold in her adoration any longer. Gathering her courage, she finally blurted out, “Malleus, can I… can I touch your horns?”

The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it. Her face flushed, and she began stammering nervously, waving her hands in a frantic attempt to apologize. “I’m sorry! That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have—”

Malleus, watching her with his characteristic calm, marveled at her audacity. It was rare a person who would even dare ask him such a thing, and yet here she was, this small, magicless human, filled with curiosity and adoration, doing just that.

He found her ignorance and boldness endearing. With a soft chuckle, he said, “It’s quite alright. You may.”

She stared at him in shock for a moment before he bent down on one knee and lowered his head slightly, giving her better access to his horns. Her hands trembled as she raised them, hesitating briefly before she gently touched one of his horns. It was smooth and cool to the touch, and she couldn’t help but let her fingers wander, tracing the intricate curves and shapes.

As she ran her fingers along his horns, her hands gradually moved into his hair, entangling in the soft, well-kept strands. This was clearly not what they had agreed upon, but she couldn’t help herself. His hair was unexpectedly soft and comforting, and she found herself running her fingers through it, almost forgetting where she was.

Malleus, to her immense surprise, allowed her this intimacy. He typically disliked when people were too casual with him, but with her, it felt different. Her touch was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity, and it felt surprisingly nice.

When she finally pulled her hands away, her face was a deep shade of red. “I’m so sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to…”

He leaned closer to her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “May I touch your hair, in return?”

She froze in surprise, not expecting his request. Before she could respond, he reached out and ruffled her hair gently, a slight mockery of her earlier actions. The touch was surprisingly tender, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“You have lovely hair,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

She blinked up at him, still flustered but now smiling shyly. “Oh…. thank you…,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malleus straightened up, his eyes still fixed on her. “You continue to surprise me, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Is that a good thing?”

“Very much so,” he replied with a small smile.

“Um, I made a new drawing of you, but… I forgot to bring it with me.” Y/N’s voice trembled, her heart thumping with anxiety. “Can I… bring it to your dorm tomorrow? I want you to have it…”

It was a big step—after all, she and Malleus had only ever met in the garden at night. By day, they moved in different circles, and he was two grades above her, making their lives all the more separate. Their nighttime meetings had always been their own little world, a space where she’d sketch him and he’d indulge her, sharing stories of Briar Valley or answering her curious questions. But the idea of entering his territory, his life outside their usual routine, felt nerve-wracking.

She braced herself, half-expecting him to refuse. Their friendship, if she could even call it that, had never been formally established. He was her quiet, mysterious muse, and she was the strange, sleepy artist who drew him in shadows and starlight. Despite herself, though, she hoped he didn’t see her as just a source of amusement. She cherished their time together, and the thought of being nothing more than a curiosity to him made her stomach twist.

Malleus, however, seemed blissfully unaware of her concerns. He regarded her with his usual calm, interpreting her nervousness as another shy moment—something she was known for, after all.

“Very well, then. Seek me out after your classes in Diasomnia,” he agreed with a nod.

Y/N’s face lit up, her relief breaking into a bright smile as she nodded eagerly. “Okay! I will.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

That night, after they parted ways, she returned to her dorm, her mind buzzing with thoughts of him. She often wondered how he managed to look so well-rested while she dragged herself through the day half-awake. Somehow, despite their nightly rendezvous, he attended all his classes, excelling in every subject. It was something she’d definitely ask about later, though for now, her focus was on perfecting the drawing she wanted to give him.

The next day, her morning went as expected—late to class, with her uniform haphazardly thrown on. Professor Trein made her stand outside for twenty minutes before finally letting her back in, and she gratefully slipped into her seat between Ace and Deuce. Though the two were notorious troublemakers, they left her in peace, allowing her to nap behind a book she propped up to look as if she were reading.

The following classes went in much the same way: some mild prodding from her classmates in her second class, a merciless session with Floyd in the third where he wouldn’t let her close her eyes for even a second, and finally a lunch break where she napped in the library. By her last class, she was somewhat awake, counting down the minutes until she could go to Diasomnia with her drawing.

As the bell rang, she set off, her heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness. She’d spent so many nights working on this drawing that she wanted it to be perfect. Walking through the school, she felt the usual wary stares and heard the murmurs of students discussing Diasomnia and its prince with hushed voices. Most feared Malleus, but she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was because she’d met him alone in the quiet of the night, where they’d spoken freely without any pretense. She couldn’t help but feel that her bond with him was something rare, and maybe a bit fragile, too.

Upon arriving at Diasomnia, she noticed it was fairly quiet. When she asked after Malleus, most simply shrugged or said they didn’t know. A little disappointed, she learned that the third years might still be in lessons. Deciding to wait, she found a cozy spot in the lounge and settled in, passing the time by flipping through her sketchbook, which was filled with sketches of Malleus and scenes of Briar Valley as he’d described them.

Gradually, she began to grow drowsy from the soft, warm atmosphere of the lounge. The couch was incredibly comfortable, and before long, she’d drifted off, her sketchbook slipping onto her lap.

Some time later, the sensation of a weight lifting from her lap stirred her from sleep. She opened one eye groggily and noticed her sketchbook was missing. She shifted slightly, assuming it had fallen to the floor, and shut her eyes again, settling into the warmth of the armrest, deciding to look for it after another minute’s rest.

As Y/N rested peacefully, the sound of soft footsteps drifted through the lounge, though she remained undisturbed. Lilia, who had been wandering through Diasomnia’s halls, paused when he noticed her asleep on the couch. With a fond smile, he tilted his head, taking in the scene. Her presence here was unexpected, yet oddly familiar; she reminded him of Silver, the way she slept so soundly, though perhaps for entirely different reasons.

Lilia's gaze shifted to the sketchbook that had slipped onto her lap, its pages splayed open to reveal a delicate, meticulously drawn portrait of Malleus. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Careful not to wake her, he gingerly picked up the sketchbook, his interest piqued.

“Ohhh, my, what do we have here…” he murmured, flipping through the pages with a mischievous grin. Nearly every other page was filled with sketches of Malleus—his contemplative gaze, his horns under moonlight, the sharp angles of his jaw. Each drawing captured a different side of Malleus, showing an unusual softness to the usually distant prince.

“So many drawings of our dear Malleus…” he whispered to himself, chuckling. The comment stirred Y/N from her slumber, her eyelids fluttering open as she took in her surroundings with bleary confusion.

“Huh…?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The sight of Lilia holding her sketchbook made her jolt upright, her cheeks flushing.

“Ah, good evening!” Lilia greeted, closing the sketchbook with a smirk as he looked at her, amused by her flustered expression. “Didn’t mean to wake you… though it seems you have quite an eye for detail.” He gave the sketchbook a playful wave.

“Um… th-that’s…” She stumbled over her words, her face warm with embarrassment as she tried to reach for the sketchbook, but Lilia held it just out of reach.

“Is Malleus your muse, perhaps?” Lilia teased, inspecting one of the more recent drawings. “This is really quite impressive. But I wonder… did he know about this little ‘collection’ you’ve made of him?”

She stammered, her hands shaking as she reached out. “N-no, he just… I mean… um, it’s for practice! Just practice! He has, uh, interesting… features.”

“‘Interesting features,’ is it?” Lilia laughed. “Yes, I’m sure the horns and dragon scales make for good practice. I’ll have to tell him he’s become quite the artist’s inspiration.”

Y/N’s face reddened even more, and she quickly snatched the sketchbook as Lilia relinquished it with an amused smile. Just as she was about to stumble over another explanation, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Y/N,” Malleus’s calm voice echoed as he entered the lounge, looking between her and Lilia. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, Malleus!” She nearly jumped, clutching the sketchbook to her chest. Malleus’s gaze softened when he looked at her, though his attention soon turned to Lilia, who was watching them with a look of dawning realization and unrestrained amusement.

Lilia clasped his hands together with a dramatic sigh. “My, my, Malleus. I didn’t know you had such devoted company in our dorm, coming here to deliver artwork no less.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, glancing between them as understanding dawned on him. “I see you’ve made yourself acquainted with Y/N.”

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Lilia replied, giving Y/N a conspiratorial wink. “She’s quite the talented artist—though I must say, your likeness seems to be her specialty.”

Y/N ducked her head, overwhelmed and burning with embarrassment, but Malleus simply looked at her, intrigued. “Is that so?” he asked, a slight smile gracing his lips as he reached a hand out toward her. “If it’s ready, I’d like to see it.”

Flustered, she nodded, opening her sketchbook to the finished drawing she’d been working so hard on, holding it out with trembling hands. Malleus examined it, his expression softening as he traced the lines with his gaze.

“It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, glancing at her with a look that held an unusual warmth. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Beside them, Lilia’s eyes gleamed with silent amusement, watching the two of them with interest. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two alone,” he said with a wink, sauntering off with a chuckle.  “Just don’t keep her out too late, Malleus. I’m sure she needs her rest for all those upcoming drawings, hmm?”

Malleus watched Lilia disappear around the corner, shaking his head slightly as a small sigh escaped his lips. Turning back to Y/N, he noticed her still clutching her sketchbook tightly, her cheeks flushed. A gentle smile softened his normally serious expression, and he inclined his head to catch her gaze.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s only me.”

She managed a small, tentative smile, but the blush on her cheeks remained. “I know,” she murmured, looking down. “I… just didn’t expect Lilia to… well, you know…”

Malleus chuckled quietly. “He does have a way of surprising people, doesn’t he? Though I find it intriguing how many drawings of me you’ve created. I hadn’t realized I was such an interesting subject.” He paused, an amused gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. “Or perhaps I’m only interesting when it’s nighttime?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his words sank in. Her blush deepened, and she stammered, ��I-I mean, you’re… interesting all the time, I just… it’s easier to focus on drawing when there’s less going on. At night, you’re… well, easier to approach.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Am I, now?”

She nodded quickly, gripping the edges of her sketchbook. “Yes. I… I feel like I can be myself more when it’s just us. I don’t have to think too hard about… everything else.”

A warm silence settled between them, broken only by the soft rustling of the leaves in the courtyard beyond the lounge window. Malleus took a seat beside her on the lounge sofa, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. His hand rested casually on the cushion near her, though she could sense his attention focused entirely on her, an intensity lingering behind his composed demeanor.

“And I quite enjoy these moments we share at night,” he said quietly. “They are rare moments of solace. There aren’t many with whom I’d wish to spend this time.” His gaze was steady, almost possessive as it held her own. “You’re… different, Y/N.”

The way he spoke made her heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading in her chest that was both comforting and strangely unsettling. She swallowed, glancing down as she fumbled for words. “I… well, I like being here with you, too.”

Malleus smiled, satisfied with her response, and gestured toward her sketchbook. “May I see more?”

Wordlessly, she handed the sketchbook over, feeling a flicker of shyness as he carefully flipped through the pages.

[ghostieblr]

Peter's Vows

When Derek is born, there is an earthquake. Beacon Hills is many things, but it is not a place of earthquakes. This is an anomaly, this sudden shaking of the land, and Peter watches Talia go through the pain of birthing a cub, and he makes note of how her cries resonate with the moving earth. As the baby is brought to the world of the living, the earth shakes more; giddy, Peter thinks of the land. Giddy at this baby's birth. That's what it is.

The town reels with the destruction, however minimal it seems to be. It is the strangeness of the earthquake that has the people in a panic, and it takes two days of Mayor Yukimura calling for council meetings and community barbecues that they begin to somehwat calm down.

The baby is named Derek on the first day itself, born underneath the Nemeton, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in silver hues. Talia sobs with relief, Nathan beside her, stroking her hair. Laura is back at the pack house, safely tucked in the bed, the rest of the pack members keeping watch. Talia had wanted to bring her with them, fearing the worst of the anomaly, but their mom had convinced her to not do it. The birth of the Alpha's cub is a big deal, but it is also private: only the Mate, Emissary and Left Hand are allowed to be present, for comfort, safety, and protection, respectively.

It has been tradition since ages, and Talia is the last person to break it.

Derek is a calm baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry for attention. Only does it for feeding, his survival instinct as strong as his lungs. Peter adores him, even if he may never admit it to anyone.

He is also curious about the boy. Why an earthquake? It cannot be a coincidence. Truly, he wonders how some people can be so dumb. Calling it a coincidence is insulting to the Powers That Be, which must have called upon such a natural reaction of the land for a reason. Derek is a special boy, and Peter vows to find out how.

Besides his incredibly compassionate heart, that is.

It is in his eyes, which have slowly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, the kindness of him. Derek's trust is not so easily earned, but once it is, it is extremely difficult to dislodge it.

Derek is a boy destined to become a kind man, one that will be an Alpha with mercy in his heart but cunning in his mind. Peter sees the makings of it right from the beginning, the way the boy will procure solutions to his own problems as well as those he deems important to him. Laura is the first born and thus has the claim to being the next Hale Alpha, however Peter knows, somehow, perhaps instinctually, that Derek will be the Alpha.

Another piece of the puzzle falls in place when their emissary falls pregnant. She's an amazing woman, Claudia. Peter likes her wit and humor, and he enjoys the perspective of her husband, the deputy, and if luck is on his side, soon-to-be Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Peter is happy for the couple.

He is, also, astonished to see an almost five-year-old Derek climb onto Claudia's lap one morning, his small fists rubbing against his eyes, and his nose scrunching determinedly to find a scent.

Peter remembers the conversation well.

"Derek, honey? What are you trying to find?"

"Mine," is what Derek growls in reply to Claudia, and shoves his nose against her barely-showing belly.

Peter's laughing figure is shot out of the end of the couch and onto the floor by Claudia's impeccable throw of one of the decorative pillows from said couch.

Thereafter, it was peculiar but not unseemly to find Derek following beside Claudia, his whole little being focused on the life forming inside her. And when the night came, Peter wasn't at all surprised to witness the thunderstorm.

Claudia had plans of giving birth in the hospital, but due to miscalculated steps, or simply because of reasons not privy to them, the best possible option left for her seemed to be below the Nemeton.

John had lost his damn mind at the prospect. "It's raining! Heavily!"

"Talia gave birth in an earthquake," Claudia says through gritted teeth, "And the baby doesn't care, nor do I, John. It is—"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and she is right, of course. It is time.

Talia, John, and Peter are the only ones who should go with her, but Derek, the little sneaky wolf that he seems to have become, follows them. It isn't until halfway through that John, the human, realizes his presence first.

They move forward with the determined little boy, who is all sopping wet in his wolf onesie, and really, this is no laughing matter. Except it is.

Claudia is brought below the Nemeton, and the tree, big and branching and beautiful, hums in their presence. The canopy of it sheds them some, but not completely.

And so, under hard rain and sharp thunderstorms, Mieczysław Stilinski is born, his little body almost white under the moonlight, and his eyes, when they open, a shock of topaz, like a glinting jewel; a fallen angel, Peter thinks.

Derek carefully wraps the baby in the blanket Talia removes from the packed bag, her movements locked onto her son's and the baby's, while John tends to his wife.

Peter watches. He notes the way the baby is calmest in Derek's arms, the way Derek is mesmerized.

This is more than just being True Mates.

True Mates itself are the rarest of occurrences, but something tells him this is more than that. The earthquake, and this sudden rain, in April of all things, simply cannot be coincidence. There must be a reason, one that Peter must uncover.

In the coming years, he dedicates his time to the quest, and finds that, oh, this is something unique indeed.

Unique to the point of legend.

Of course, he gathers facts before telling anyone. Derek's control goes onto the list, as does his ability to switch between his shift as easy as breathing. Having such control at the age of seven is almost impossible, but he has it without the growing ego that would have inflated anyone else's with the amount of praise he gets.

Stiles, as Derek had nicknamed Mieczysław almost immediately post his arrival in the world, is no human. His mother's line has some pretty strong magical abilities, but the kind of power that this boy exudes surpasses imagination. Nobody notices at first, not even Peter, until Stiles is a couple of months past his third birthday. It truly isn't until Derek, almost nine, comes down from his room one day into the kitchen, says, "Which packet, Stiles?" that they realize it.

"Honey, he isn't a wolf. He cannot hear you," Nathan tells him, but Derek just shrugs.

"He is for today."

Peter hears the, "Blue one! Blue one! Blue is sooo pretty, Derek!" from Stiles, who is definitely sitting in Derek's room, upstairs.

Derek grabs the blue packet and goes upstairs, and Peter follows, followed by Talia and Nathan, who beckon Claudia as well.

Stiles sitting on the floor, a myriad of toys around him, while the packets of chips sit beside him, torn open, evidently by Derek's claws, who himself is playing with Stiles.

And they're both being fed flying chips.

The three wolves turn to Claudia as one. Her shaking head and awed face is enough to clue them in, and really, Peter thinks, this is fucking incredible.

Powers don't manifest as early as this in magic wielders. They're more of the puberty package, tied to emotions at the beginning rather than will.

This is... defying it.

Peter loves to see when the next piece of the puzzle will fall.

And it does oh so enticingly.

Years later, when Derek is fourteen and Stiles is almost nine, comes the first trial. The Alpha Summit & The Argent Treaty.

Peter doesn't believe Gerard's words to do no harm, so he sets up precautions in place. It pays off, because during the summit, he almost ends up blinding Deaucalion — something that could have turned super bad if left unchecked.

Gerard's attack is met with swift retaliation, but somehow, only his goons end up dead. Gerard himself remains free, and through sheer will, maybe, the old man manages to kidnap Laura.

By the time the adults sniff out their cub, they're too late.

Not in the sense of Laura being hurt, but in the terms of missing the action, somewhat.

When they enter the warehouse, they are faced with Gerard being held down by a black wolf, fangs around his neck, the eyes of the creature a deep, ruby red. Deeper than Talia's. At first, they all assume it to be one of the visiting Alphas, but then they realize Stiles' presence, too, and it clicks.

Stiles frees Laura from the painful looking electric rod, and comes back to Derek, coaxes him back to his human form as Peter and Nathan take care of the psychopath.

Laura lets Talia mother her, and then says, "We'll have two Alphas."

Talia looks at the now human Derek, and eyes shining with pride, she nods. "Come here, both of you," she beckons, and the boys run, Stiles' chattering a comforting sound for all of them.

A few weeks later, Derek admits to everyone he has a new friend, and talks about her often. Paige this, Paige that. Laura teases him, restrained in her words, trying not to upset Derek's control. Even Cora pulls back. Stiles, though, is almost worse.

He riles Derek to the point of him using his Alpha voice to shut up, and the whole Pack silences itself, even Talia. Stiles, though — an exception to all things sane — doesn't back down. The voice doesn't work on him, and Derek isn't phased by it. However, the smell of guilt filters through their home, and Stiles' sigh is followed by comforting words. There is no apologizing though.

Soon, they'll learn from Derek himself that he hates that everyone is walking on eggshells. That is why he kept bringing up Paige, so that someone would tease him, uncle Peter, Laura, Cora. Or that Stiles would rile him up.

"Why would he, though? He should be happy for you. I am." Cora's words are met with a laugh from Derek, and a groan of embarrassement from Stiles.

"He's weirdly possessive — don't push me, you know you are."

"Alright," Stiles sighs, "I am."

"And Paige is a great friend, but I don't nearly think about her as much as I might have let you all believe."

And that is when Peter sees it. The blink-and-you-will-miss-it purple flash of Stiles' eyes. Peter doesn't put thought into why now; he simply focuses on completing the puzzle.

And he does. True Alpha and Purple Eyes? That's easy.

That's legend.

Set in stone as the first Alpha and the first Emissary as well as Spark, who, arguably, also set in stone the sword of Excalibur.

That part of the legend has questionable sources, though. Sure, Merlin Emrys is, as per theories, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and Arthur Pendragon the greatest ruler, the once and future king, but it doesn't have as much merit.

What Peter is sure about is that somehow, the Powers That Be decided that this is the pack to send these two to.

He watches Stiles argue about the best type of pasta with Derek, and thinks, suddenly, that perhaps this is their happy ending. What legends end happy? None. So this must be their time to be happy.

Peter vows another quest, then. To always protect Derek and Stiles.

[risetherivermoon]

Mouthwashing family headcanons!!! because im mentally insane about them:

Daisuke: was an only child, his parents had him later in life and he's a rainbow baby. They love him deeply, but are worried about him not doing anything in life. He wants them to be proud of him so he's trying, but he'd really rather not be at this internship. He finds out his Mom got him it after an argument, she drops it on him and tells him he has to do it. He hates that he left home with that being their last conversation, as he refused to talk to her until he left as protest. Months later he's gotten over it and recognizes what she was doing for him. His father is kind of the buffer between him and his Mom during this, as well as in general since Daisuke's mother is the one who scolds him the most.

Anya: had a little sister, their parents were pretty emotionally distant, serious people who were both in business. They were busy a lot of the time which meant Anya took care of her little sister most of the time. She lives in an apartment with a roommate and their two cats when on earth, though her roommate is used to her being gone most of the time so she only has Anya pay half rent. She still talks to her little sister when home, the two of them meeting up and getting coffee when shes off work, but she's cut off her parents almost completely.

Swansea: had two brothers, both younger. His father was a hardened guy and wasn't around much, so Swansea took care of his little brothers and helped out his mom best he could. He gets married to his wife after meeting her at an AA meeting, they have three kids, two daughters and a son, their oldest the son and daughter (twins) and their youngest being their daughter. They have a family dog and two cats (his youngest daughter begged for them, Swansea hates the idea at first but warmed up to it) All three are grown by the time he's on the Tulpar for the last time, he's surprisingly an attentive and quite loving father, though he's a bit emotionally stunted. His youngest daughter comes out to him as a lesbian and admits to being afraid of his reaction, and that's the only time he's ever cried in front of her. He loves his family but is very bad at expressing it, as he's not well mentally.

Curly: middle child of three with a younger sister and older brother. His dad left when he was around six, and so his mom raised him and his siblings on her own. He was a fairly quiet kid compared to his siblings, his brother and sister were more high maintenance, with his brother having rebellious mental problems and had constant arguments with their mom, and his little sister was constantly ill as a little kid. He was the kid his mom could 'rely on' and be assured he was fine, he was considered the 'easy kid' though he really wasn't fine. He still calls his mother and visits his siblings all the time, his brother having gotten married and had a daughter, and his sister having a good job. His niece adores him because he always lets her do makeup on him at Christmas.

Jumbotron: an only child with an abusive alcoholic father, and a mother who wasn't very attentive. Though his father was abusive he idolized him a lot as a child and hated his mom more, thinking his father beating her was deserved, and when it happened to him he also deserved it. He took a lot of the rhetoric his father passed down onto him to heart, shitty things like how women should stay in their place. I'd say he's the definition of the abused become the abuser. He would stay at Curly's house as a kid to avoid home, and was kinda considered an honorary member of their family. He also visits for Christmas along with Curly, though he'd gotten the impression Curly's sister hates him. (She can see his manipulative behavior from a 100 miles away, and is pretty protective over her brother, also is uncomfortable around him.) His mother and father are both dead by the time he has the job with Pony Express.

[florainkingdom]

"It's fine. I'd be dumb for me to be angry at you when you didn't know that I'm not big of physical contact. I used to be a lot worse before all the social condition and therapy." Kalak could only guess that if she was more like how she used to be then Tangle might be missing an arm completely right now, or worse. Best not think about that as the wolf was in far more control than she used to be.

Kalak then saw Tangles reaction and gets nervous. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say we could deal with him. I mean, I'm not sure how I'd handle a fight with Metal Sonic. I was just saying what I heard Tall Lady saying and know she's pretty tough." The wolf didn't want to make the lemur made and it was making her nervous and anxious. She would then stop and take a few deep breaths.

"Sorry again. I can get super nervous sometimes if I think I upset or offended someone." Kalak's attention would drift back to her spider trying to get her attention. "It's okay boy, I just got a bit nervous," the wolf said, petting the spider on top of the head. "Rhy's here is always able to pick up when my mood shifts, despite never being trained to do that. Though I've had him since I was a cub so it might be something he picked up." She couldn't remember a time she didn't have the spider.

"You can pet him if you want. I promise he doesn't bite, though if he backs away then let him come to you. Mainly because we don't have any creature like you in our world." Kalak knew that Rhys had his more cautious side, though not every wolf is kind to spiders, and they've had a few close calls. The wolf also unsure how the spider would react to a creature he's never seen before. "Rhys, this is Tangle. She's a new friend and not food."

Rhys would look at Tangle with its eight eyes when Kalak mentioned her. The spider making no attempt to get closer to the lemur, though wasn't moving back. He was told it wasn't food so had no intention to attack the other.

She just could not imagine being all alone for so long. Her life had never been easy, and it was always full of strife of its own. But to think of facing that all alone without her Uncle, her brother, or jewel felt like such a scary scenario. She didn't want to imagine that kind of life so she naturally felt bad for Kalak and just wanted to change that part of her life. Or at least she wanted to be as much of a friend to her as Kalak would allow her to be. She knew from whisper that Wolves could be a bit fickle about opening up. Or maybe that was just whisper? she couldn't say for sure.

As for the Devas, she didn't know enough about them but it sounded like they meant well. A tough group of warriors and thinkers trying to look out for there world! Sounded like the justice hall! from one of her comics, only far more real and way more important. Though at Kalak mentioning she might accidently lash out from the touch, it made her think of how much alike she and Whisper were.

" Ah! right Sorry--- I'm uhh, still gettin' use to that with Whisp, guess im to use to just huggin' or being physical with my friends. but i'll try and keep that in mind for the future! "

However at the mention of metal Sonic she gripped the back of her neck as if an old wound was bothering her. The memory of getting her ass beat by Metal was still kind of fresh! She survived and even got her licks in, but he was nothing to sneeze at. If anything Sonic told he was true she hadn't even seen a fraction of his full power and she likely just got lucky he didn't come at her at full power.

" Dunno, you folks from Flora are pretty tough, but thing is... everytime Metal loses. Eggman just improves Metal a little more... so by this point... he's crazy strong. I can say that... cause i got put in the infirmary by the guy..."

[yagiichan]

cod x fem!reader EDC Week

cod x fem!reader

cod members reaction to you when they first see you out of your tactical gear, and you’re actually dressed up for EDC.

Warning: mentions of smut, 18+ Minors DNI, language. Mentions of breeding.

A/N: EDC literally just happened in my city, and I’ve been into the COD x reader stories recently. It’s not going to be anything impressive, but I hope ya’ll like it. Again, this is my HC for whatever reason. IDK, I don’t really make sense to myself neither, so don’t @ me. :3 This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so please be nice.

FYI I do not know a whole lot of lore, I’m just here for the fun of it, so please do not flame me for any inaccurate/unplausible storytelling I am about to convey.

P.S. I drew the design of the dress, but I referenced an image on pinterest. I apologize as I do not know the original artist for the figure.

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

Chatter amongst the operatives broke out, as everyone began filing out of the room, from another long debriefing. You were new to the squad, and just barely began speaking to anyone. Layered in heavy combat armor, and face covered with a balaclava and dark round shades every time you’re on base. You don’t like it when people gawk at you, especially when conducting professional business.

You find it easier when you’re covered up. People treated you like a normal soldier, rather than a piece of meat. Though, doesn’t really stop the flirtatious comments coming from your companions.

Soap would linger sometimes, making fun little passes, “What’ve you got hidin’ under there, bird?” You’d laugh him off and just tell him nothing he’d be interested in. He’d quip back “Bet there’s loads I can find interesting, dove…” You continue to laugh, making your way down the dim hallway. The other members, following behind. Gaz would chime in with a “knock-it-off” comment every now and then, but he was just as curious how you’d look too.

Pretty much, everyone has seen one another, considering how long they’ve been enlisted together, so it’s no surprise that fresh meat would immediately attract the attention of wolves.

Ghost, Konig, and Horangi followed from behind, watching you laugh.

“What’s the fresh meat good at anyways?” Ghost asked nonchalantly. Horangi shrugged his shoulders, with a soft “mm-mm”. Konig shook his head at the both of them “Hand-to-hand combat and reconnaissance. Apparently, she’s managed to close the distance on the Captain and threw him straight into the wall.” Ghost scoffed, attempting to burn a hole in the back of your skull. “She is? Look at her” he pointed with his chin, “A literal fuckin’ gnome is what she is.” Horangi chortled a little bit, Konig staying silent.

Price picking up on their conversation, cleared his throat, “You’ll see in due time lads. Someone like that can be the least expected.”

“So, since it’s the start of the weekend why don’t we start with a bang and head down to the pub for a fill?”

 Soap suggested eagerly. The week prior had been incredibly taxing, so everyone was privy to the idea, besides you.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got plans this weekend,” you sheepishly laughed. Soap whined, prodding you on what your plans are. You didn’t budge, only that it was already planned some time ago and you can’t miss you. Despite the constant badgering, Soap deflated in defeat, as Gaz patted his back. Despite the initial rejection, Soap bounced back almost immediately.

Chatting away with you, talking about coming out with them another time. You laughed along, apologizing that you couldn’t attend now, but promised to meet in the future.

Making your way towards your apartment complex on base, you noticed everyone else also shuttling into the freight elevator with you. You tilted your head in confusion, queueing Price,

“Well, we all share the same apartment complex. Compliment of the base we currently reside on. Wants to make sure we’re on the ready for when things go down.”

 You slowly nodded in understanding. You clicked your floor number, 10 and noticed that nobody else clicked a floor number besides 14. You looked at Price again, who sheepishly explained that squads are assigned to their own floors. That, since you’re now part of their operation, you’ll probably need to get the changes made soon.

“S’pparently supposed to bring us ‘closer’, build a bond with one another?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, thinking it was cute, “Yeah, I suppose it makes sense.” Chatter continued, until you reached your floor. Getting off, you said your goodnights to everyone. Soap continued to moan, hoping to get a glimpse of you at some point. Gaz agreeing, and Price chuckling at them.

The brooding bunch discussed themselves the best bar to pick from for the night. As the elevator finally reached their floor Soap clapped his hands together “Welp! How’s bout we all meet up again in an hour aye? Freshen up a lil bit. Maybe catch us a pretty bird tonight,” wiggling his eyebrows with the suggestion.

Sighing at Soap’s obvious desperation everyone agreed to meet in the hallway before heading down to the pub.

“Right! Now, let’s get this party started!” Soap howled, looking like he pregame’d before meeting up with the crew.

Everyone had transferred themselves into fresher clothing, finally peeling away the grime of the week. Excitement slowly brews in the group as they can finally wind down for the weekend. Although everyone had changed into more comfortable attire, the three brooding bunch kept their visages concealed.  All members shuffling into the freight elevator, chattering happily amongst themselves.

As the freight elevator begins its slow descent towards the ground floor, it suddenly stops at floor 10. Voices begin to hush as the door slowly slides open, revealing a woman with a high slit dress, stopping at the waist. Four thin black bands wrapped around strong thighs.

Her upper torso covered with black cloth besides the diamond cut pattern, exposing her breasts with dangerous allure. Her lower face covered by a black cloth that looked infused with the rest of the dress, leaving only her eyes visible, and hair to flow freely.

The unknown woman continued to adjust herself, before looking up into the elevator, capturing the eyes of every man on board.

----

Your eyes gleamed with happiness, pulling your mask down, smiling brightly at the lot.

“Hey team!” You chirped.

Silence.

“Heading out to the pub now?”

More silence. Eyes continued to stare you down. Not sure what to make of who you are. You started to feel awkward. Not realizing that this is their first time seeing you, especially like this.

“Erm… well then, off we go…? Heh…” you laughed nervously, with the door sliding closed once more, and the lift beginning its descent once more.

The ride down was silent and awkward, at least for the men. You just continued to tap away at your phone, not a care in the world, making plans to meet your friend at the festival entrance.

“(Y/N)?? Is that you?” Gaz piped up, still inspecting you from head to toe. You turned towards Gaz, nodding your head and smiling.

“Suppose this is the first time you guys have seen me outside of my Michelin Man outfit huh?”

You laughed at your own joke, not ever noticing the way their eyes grew hungrier by the second.

You never noticed the way Price stood just a little bit closer, in hopes of accidentally bumping into you. He’d blame it on how crowded the elevator was.

You never noticed the way Soap suddenly started spilling all over his words. His face slowly heating up with every time you laughed at his silly antics.

You never noticed the way Gaz was literally, so star struck, only nodding and laughing at whatever you were saying.

You never noticed the way Ghost suddenly stood up a little straighter, rather than leaning towards the rail of the elevator, trying to make himself look taller. More attractive for you.

Or the way Horangi adjusted his glasses every now and then to make sure you don’t catch him staring at you.

Or the way Konig began to fidget anxiously, staring intently at your being, hands held together to hide something that slowly began to rage in his pants. He was sweating profusely.

“Konig?” you questioned, staring up at the hulking 6’10” man.

Shit.

“Are you alright? You’re sweating up a storm.” Everyone began to turn towards him, suddenly finding himself embarrassed. With a few ‘legit’ coughs Konig spoke.

“Just need some air s’all.” He played it off way too cool. The others glared at him with jealousy when you showed concern for him. Konig, though his face not visible to others, smiled a triumphant smile under his facemask.

You smiled brightly at him, breathing a sigh of relief, tugging at his heartstrings even more. Glances were stolen every now and then by your team members. Assessing your body, and trying to determine if it’s the trick of the light, or your thighs are just that delicious. Toned, large, and ready to crush heads.

Oh, how they wished to have their heads between your legs. To have that pretty black dress lifted over their heads, and to hear your sweet voice calling out their names in ecstasy. Your hair sticking to your skin, drenched in the sweat and tears of your pheromones.

To watch the rise and fall of your heaving chest, as your honey coats their face and tongues. Once you’ve had your high, the dress comes off and you smile that bright smile at them, hands cupping their faces whisper-begging.

“Come here, darling… Come to me. I need you, so badly.” You’d pant out, with tears in your eyes, and a wobbly smile on your face, just begging to be ravaged by them. To be pumped with their loads.

Oh, they all wanted you, and you didn’t even know it.

The ride down felt like forever, until the soft ding of elevator is heard throughout, indicating your destination of the ground floor.

----

“So, where are you heading, dressed up like this?” Price inquired.

“EDC. It’s going on for 3 days, but I’ll only be going for two.” You stated excitedly.

“EDC? Wassall that then hen?” Now Soap asking the questions.

“It’s just a music festival. Electric Dance Carnival. Been dying to go, and since we’re out here I wanted to take the chance.” You informed the bunch. They all walked along side you, the rest in silence as Soap continued his barrage of questions.

“Oh, but I won’t be getting insanely lit or anything like that! It’s just an opportunity is all! I’m meeting some friends.” You corrected yourself, not wanting to have your team think you’re some sort of degenerate (hehe).

As you continued to happily chat away, your taxi pulled up. Bounding towards the door you turn back towards your fellow soldiers, not missing a beat.

“Ay, be safe, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to phone me.” You chirped once more.

“Anyways, I’m off then! Be seeing you around!” You waved as you got into your taxi, driving away into the city.

----

Sitting around a table, with a dimly lit light hanging above them, Ghost groaned at the thought of phoning you to let you know that he isn’t feeling well. That he might need some of that ‘comfort’ you were giving to Konig earlier. Felt kind of sweaty. Might need you to take care of him, if you get what I’m laying down.

Price, Konig, and Horangi sat around the table, watching Gaz and Soap playing rounds of pool, but not really committing to it. Something on their mind, pretty sure knowing what, or who, it could be.

“If I died tomorrow, I’d want it to be those thighs wrapped around my head.” Soap dreamt, leaning on his pole.

“Yeah, no shit. Wasn’t expecting any of that. Reckon I’d begin howling at the moon just to have a bite.” Gaz chuckled.

Eyes snapped up at the duo, and then at each other.

Price laid a hefty pat on Ghosts shoulder, reminding him of his comment earlier.

“Still not what you were expecting, weren’t you lad?”  laughing heartily. Ghost grunted at his comment, as did Horangi and Konig.

“I… must admit… I too, was not expecting such a treat tonight.” Horangi shuttered with each word. Konig nodded vigorously.

Still fantasizing about your worry over him. Fretting over his comfort. He was already fantasizing about your wedding. The life you’ll lead together. Breeding you up with his young, having you cry under his weight, with your legs wrapped tightly around him as he drilled his throbbing member deep into your core. Konig shuttered at the thought.

“I’m going to make her mind” Konig stated out of the blue. Suddenly, all eyes snapped at him. Flashes of competitiveness and want evident on everyone’s face. Now, everyone was vying for your affection. And you didn’t even have an inkling of an idea that any of this was going down.

----

I hope ya’ll liked my story. It’s probably all over the place, and that’s okay. It was something I’ve been needing to get out of my system. Something I can go back to when I’m feeling that little itch.  I may build on this for our individual heroes. IDK.

[sodavizz]

Headcanons about how the crew would react to reader who likes to wear revealing clothes? male or female is fine, please! (nsfw and sfw is okay too)

I'm kinda crap at making headcanons but hopefully this is to ur liking anon!! :3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

How they would react to a reader who likes to be revealing!

--

Pairings: Tulpar crew & GN! Reader

Warnings: My opinions!!!

Wc: Idk 100+

--

Anya

She would likely be very supportive of you wearing whatever makes you feel confident and comfortable. If she notices you’re getting attention for it, she might joke around to lighten the mood, or subtly remind others to be respectful. She values individuality and believes that everyone should have the freedom to express themselves. However, if she senses any discomfort or judgment, she'd step in to protect you. So in my opinion, Anya’s reaction would be warm, empathetic, and understanding!!

Curly

He’s likely to admire your confidence in wearing revealing clothes but would also be cautious and protective. While he wouldn’t outright say anything negative, he might get slightly defensive or uncomfortable if people stare or make inappropriate comments. Deep down, he wants to ensure you're respected, so he might subtly try to shield you from any unwanted attention or offer compliments to make you feel at ease. :)

Daisuke

Most likely takes it in stride and encourage you to wear whatever makes you happy. His enthusiasm would likely lead him to give you a compliment, saying something like, "You look amazing!" He might be the type to even crack a joke about it to make you feel even more at ease.

Jimmy

I feel like he would likely have a more layered reaction! Probably might act aloof or indifferent. On the surface, he might try to control his emotions, acting like it doesn't faze him but he's the type to probably stare, a lot.

Swansea

Swansea, the grumpy old man he is, would probably have a more critical or old-fashioned reaction. He might make grumbling comments about modesty or the "good old days," but deep down, he’s not someone who would judge you too harshly. He might not be entirely comfortable with it, given his age and more conservative views, but he wouldn't push you to change.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

A different first meeting AU inspired by Blink182 - The Rock Show because I think Tommy is a rocker (no pun intended)

I'll post to AO3 when I've had some sleep.

🎵 fell in love with the boy at the rock show🎵

---

It wasn't his usual hang out, but after his break up with Natalia, Buck was desperate to surround himself with as much life as possible.

Some hole in the wall bar advertising live music, outside the 118's jurisdiction, seemed the perfect place to do it.

And also to forget he was currently the only single member of the 118 A shift.

The music was decent, the drinks not too expensive, and he liked the general vibe in the place. Even if he didn't recognise the majority of the songs the band was playing.

"Haven't seen you here before." someone said in his ear and he turned around.

The guy was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

"Oh uh... yeah... I mean... no, you haven't. I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah? And how is that working out for you?" the guy asked, sitting down on the barstool next to Buck.

"Not too bad." he replied. "I think I like it here."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if we'd never see you again." the guy smiled and Buck was almost mesmerised by the way his eyes crinkled when he did. "Do you want another?" he nodded at the almost empty glass in front of him.

"Sure."

The guy got up and rounded the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge.

"Is this your bar or something?"

"It might as well be with the amount of time he spends here." a woman of around their age said, as she walked back behind the bar carrying a serving tray with empty glasses.

"I keep telling you Gina, you should let me buy into this place. Tommy and Gina. Living on a prayer."

"Why does your name get to go first if its my bar?" the woman asked, hand on her hip.

"Because that's how the song goes. Take it up with Jon if you don't like it." he told her and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Get back to your side of the bar, you menace."

The guy, Tommy apparently, laughed again and went back to his seat next to Buck.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"He wishes! I'm a catch!" Gina said while preparing a cocktail.

"Sure you are. If I was into women I would have made a move on you years ago." Tommy told her, looking at Buck from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

"If I was into men, I might have appreciated that."

"She loves me really." Tommy told Buck. "Has done since we were kids."

"He was the new kid in the neighbourhood and my mother made me go say hi and play with him. Haven't been able to get rid of him since." Gina commented, and walked away with the cocktail.

Tommy laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"So now you know my name and how my best friend was forced to befriend me... but I don't know anything about you... yet."

"Well... what do you want to know?" Buck asked, trying to tear his eyes away from Tommy's lips when he took another swig.

"Everything." Tommy replied. "But let's start with your name."

"I'm B- my name's Evan." Buck told him, holding out his hand.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the stumble but didn't mention it.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

They talked for a while. Laughing about everything and nothing, with Tommy getting mock offended when Buck admitted he didn't know the song Tommy insisted was one of his favourites and not many of the others either.

"Hey I spent most of my twenties travelling!" Buck laughed, defending himself. He liked talking to Tommy. He was fun and friendly, and definitely easy on the eye.

Objectively speaking of course. He'd always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he saw one. Just like he'd look at hot women. It meant nothing.

"And you didn't listen to music on your travels?" Tommy asked incredulously.

"I did... but I didn't pay much attention to it I guess" Buck shrugged, taking a swing of his drink. He hadn't really kept track of how many he'd had but he was starting to feel the buzz. "My sister's..." he shook his head trying to think of a word to describe Chim's relation to him and Maddie. "My brother in law..." He settled on. "He's this movie buff and he's always rolling his eyes at me when I don't get his references."

"Not a movie guy either?"

"Not really. I get distracted. I prefer documentaries. I like learning new things." Buck explained and took a good look at Tommy, taking in the amused look on his face. "Let me guess... you're a movie buff too?"

"I like the escapism, sue me." Tommy replied. "But I'm happy to teach you all about the classics. I've been told I'm a good teacher." He smiled and leaned a little closer, and for a minute Buck thought he was about to kiss him.

And how much he wouldn't mind that. At all.

"Thomas, get your ass up here and make yourself useful, man!" the singer from the band that had been playing all night suddenly called out.

And suddenly the moment was gone. Tommy laughed, leaned back, quickly finished his beer, and got up.

"Duty calls... are you sticking around, Evan?"

"Uh y-yeah, sure."

"Great." Tommy said happily and squeezed his shoulder in passing, letting his hand linger just a fraction too long.

He walked up to the stage and someone handed him a guitar.

As the band started playing, Buck recognised the song as one of Tommy's favourites he'd pointed out to him earlier, and couldn't help but stare at the man.

He was laughing with the others and making playing the instrument look effortless.

He was confident. Interesting.

The band played a few songs before Tommy handed the guitar back to a woman Buck hadn't noticed before and he stepped off the stage again.

Buck made his way over, suddenly eager to talk to him before anyone else would have a chance to.

"Hey!" Tommy greeted him and the crinkly smile was back. "Glad you stayed."

"Y-yeah me t-too..." Buck stammered, his brain somewhat disconnected from his mouth. "S-so... you play guitar?"

"Bass actually." Tommy corrected him. "Everyone knows the bass is the most important instrument in a band." he grinned. "I've been playing since I was a teenager and I play with these guys sometimes when I'm around."

"Yeah? You sounded pretty good. You made it look so easy. I wish I could play."

"I could teach you." Tommy offered without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Is that before or after you teach me about classic movies I need to watch?" Buck tilted his head and smiled as he stepped closer to Tommy, only vaguely aware he was doing it.

Tommy glanced down at his lips.

"No reason we can't do both."

Suddenly there were two fingers under Buck's chin, tilting his face up and Tommy's lips on his for the softest first kiss he'd ever had.

It was over before Buck's brain had really caught up with what was happening and he just stared at Tommy with a dazed and confused look on his face.

"Sorry I - " Tommy started but Buck cut him off, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him until neither of them could remember their own name.

~ A few days later ~

"There he is, Tommy Kinard, the man of the hour. Long time no see. " Chim said, pulling the guy that had just walked up to them in for a quick hug.

Buck couldn't get a good look at him from where he was standing. The guy was just muscles under a straining blue flight suit and slightly messy brown hair, until Chim stepped away and Buck choked on air.

Chim's buddy was the Tommy from the bar. The bassist who had turned his world upside down with two fingers under his chin in a dark corner of a bar he'd ended up in by chance.

"Let me introduce you to these two knuckleheads. This is Buck and Eddie." Chim gestured at them. "Guys this is Tommy, he used to be at the 118 when you two were just a twinkle in Bobby's eye."

Eddie stepped forward first and shook Tommy's hand.

"Eddie Diaz, thanks for helping us out."

"Sure thing. If Howie calls I answer. I owe him my life."

Eddie nodded and stepped back and gave Buck an expectant look.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Buck stammered and walked up to Tommy holding out his hand. "I'm Evan... E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy smiled as he shook his hand and Buck's knees turned to jello. Again.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last Hope chapter 4

Hello everyone :D i have finally decided to upload a chapter i postponed for weeks. Hope yall enjoy it, lmk your thoughts and reactions

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3

God. 

You were crazy. You were confused and blind. You didn't know whether it was love or hate. 

Hating your kidnapper seems to be the logical explanation most people would come up with. But again, most of those people had not been kidnapped, nor was Leon S Kennedy the one who did it. 

A few days ago, you had played with his nerves more than ever.

You took a small knife from the kitchen when he allowed you to watch him cook. Trying to be sneaky was harder than it sounds. 

You have been his good girl for a whole month, yet trying to steal a knife to kill him. 

Little did you know, Leon had already noticed your little trick, sneakily putting it in your sleeve while you kissed him.

He was happy that you were showing affection without any fuss at first. But when he saw your true intentions, he was furious. 

That same night you tried to stab him when he was sleeping. Or pretending to be asleep, waiting for the right moment to give you what you were itching for.

To say the least, you got your punishment.

Even though you got him mad a couple times during the months you lived in the isolated house, it was never this bad. It never went as far as Leon refusing to acknowledge you or tamper you like his usual self. 

Humans are social creatures. Communication was the key to survival starting from the ice age to the modern world. People need love, someone to laugh and talk to. Without these, life was darker than the pitch of hell. This what you felt like was happening to you. Leon was the only being you talked, communicated, snuggled in for a long time. 

Now he was trying his hardest ignoring and giving you silent treatment. Thinking more about this situation, it was half funny, half painful. 

If you start from the funny part, he was childish. The one who made sure to comment about how stable and mature for a family was now acting like a spoiled, mad 5 year old. 

At the same time, you realized you were truly alone. Here, in this prison of a house, you at least had someone to give a shit about you at least a bit, even if it was toxic. But thinking about your past life, you had nobody for you.

Hell, if you made a bet with a stranger your mom would stab you from the back if she wanted to have your boyfriend in her bed, it was not a lie you would lose a few bucks. 

You are alone in this miserable life with no one except a mentally ill old man. You were sure he had an addiction problem before by the looks of his face. It's easy to tell when you grew up with one. And worked to help those people, sacrificing everything that had the curse to be yours. 

Guilt was filling the room, almost drowning you till you can’t breathe. Even if he was shit, he still cared for you. Were you this pathetic to try to crawl back in the arms of someone you attempted to murder? Yes, you were. But who cares? Who cares as long as he forgives you? You are just going to pretend everything is fine till everything is not and the cycle starts all over.

You felt even shittier when the memory of you holding the knife and sitting on his lap when he was asleep, ready to slice his throat. If your childhood self saw you like that, she would think you’re a monster. 

But in the end, you were one. That’s why you have no one good enough that is willingly to stay with you. 

You had willingly pushed away someone that actually cared for you without even thinking. How stupid are you to try to do that? You cared and craved the attention that came with him. You were just not used to love that you immediately persuaded it as poison.

He locked you in the same room with no food and water for 3 days. No matter how much you pleaded, he wouldn't budge in. 

“Leon… Daddy… Please…” you begged again. You had already lost count of your whining and were begging for him to let you out. 

“I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please?” 

Leon signed hearing your whining repeatedly in the morning before he even had his first cup of coffee. Work was already harder these past few days, your whining made it even more irritating. 

Hell. He should even add a little bit of vodka in his coffee since destiny decided to play with him again. 

Leon had already decided the love of his life bumped into him at the hospital, but he was starting to realize it was an illusion his heart made to bear with the pain of real life struggles.

Leon was starting to see the truth that you will never be someone he wanted. All he ever dreamed of was the perfect american dream where he had a beautiful wife and a few kids running around his house. If the Raccoon city event never happened, he wouldn’t even have looked your way. 

You were rude, wild, inconsiderate, and lacked motherly instincts. Leon was not even sure if you thought like a normal person. He was not blind to your personality. When he was carefully selecting you as his future wife and the mother of his kids, he noticed quite a lot of details. 

The way you responded to children crying, someone immature, or confused people asking for help or getting unlucky in life, he took notes of how you stare at them and how you respond with your body language.

He knew you were not a good person. He knew you wouldn’t be a good, caring mother. 

Despite the fact he refused to acknowledge your real self, he had hoped someday you will grow to love him and want to have children of your own. Little did he know, he felt angry at himself for giving you too much hope. 

In his own delusion, Leon thought you completely had given up the thought to escape and run away. Never in a million years, he would have imagined you holding a knife and almost killing him. 

Now, he didn’t even know if you were the right choice to go with for the rest of his life. 

But listening to your pleas, apologizing, and regrets pulled a string in his heart he hadn’t acknowledged since he was twenty something. 

Maybe you realized you were nothing without him. You didn’t have the basic needs of a human if he didn’t bother to notice you. You should be grateful. You should be grateful he takes care of you better than he takes care of himself. You should be grateful he chose to save you from your miserable little life before him.

But hearing your cries changed his already made up mind. It was something he would only do for you. Something he hoped that would change your mind about starting a family. 

Leon stared down at you with a cold glare as you whined pathetically before crawling and hugging his legs as you sobbed like you’re at your father's funeral. 

As much as he loves his parents, only one memory is engraved on his mind from his childhood. He remembers that day, clearer than water. Holding a bare white rose while people stared at the big hole in the ground as his parents were put to peaceful sleep forever without anyone interrupting them again. 

Standing there alone and confused why his parents would never come back. What did his parents do to be killed like that? Still to this day, Leon doesn’t have any idea why his parents were targeted out of all the people in the world.

His main goal is to never let any of his children go through that pain. Not in a single day he had a moment of lasting peace. Why would he not deserve a little dose of happiness others knew the taste more than once? 

You were his last hope. Last hope for a new beginning. To something he can’t have again.

“I’m sorry. Please. Daddy. I love you. Please, forgive me” you cried, sniffing your runny nose while kissing his legs. As much as you would have loved to make comments about his hairy long legs, you were not in the right position to be sarcastic.

“If you try to pull that shit again, your “daddy, i love you” is not going to work again.” he muttered before grabbing your wrists, pulling you up.

“See what happens when you disobey me?” Leon eyed your tired figure from the lack of food, shower and him.  

“I won’t do it again. I promise.” you muttered, hugging him hesitantly. It was a strange feeling for you. Even before you were forced to show affection, you never felt genuine enough to hug a person before. Sometimes rare visitors would hug you, it only gave you ick.

Something about it made me want to cry, while something else was making you angry at Leon. Where did his promise of taking care of you no matter what went when he was mad? Were you just a little toy for him to abandon when life gives him something sour? Is he someone that would abandon you at your lowest just like everyone else?

Walking into the kitchen you were greeted with a vegetable soup with a slice of bread, poured in the plastic bowl he bought for you specifically. 

“Eat well.” Leon muttered as he sat next, watching you devour the food. 

“Slower. It's not good for the body”

After a few minutes of eating, he brought you into the bedroom, showering you carefully before helping you put on a fresh set of pajamas.

“Sleep” Leon muttered as he laid beside, kissing your temple. 

Warm, soft blanket made you feel like a newborn being swaddled in its mothers tight embrace. After spending 3 nights on the cold flooring of the house, the bed felt like heaven.

Not to mention the fact, after a while Leon would occasionally rub your clit through your pants or give your nipple a hard pinch enough to awaken something in your belly.

As much as he missed you, Leon quickly learned you were even worse than him somehow. The way you begged for another round at 2 am at night proved everything he needed to know. 

“My baby missed me so much. Huh?” the older man smirked, feeling you clench as his pace increased. Your hands went back to the bed sheets while you babbled nonsense.  

“You see how much I love you?” Leon muttered as he stared at your dilated eyes.

As you nodded, he felt a satisfaction he hadn’t experienced in a while. Soon he felt himself finish inside you. 

“Promise me. Promise me that you would love me forever” 

You took a long shaky breath, brain foggy from the your body was being warmed by his warm cum. 

“I will… I will as long as you do” you said as Leon captured your lips in a passionate long kiss. Spit connecting you two still as he pulled away. “Sweet dreams baby”

Next chapter start: Leon grinned to himself as he started connecting all the clues God left for him. Your moody, bratty behavior, sweet cravings, morning sickness. He was trying to tell Leon his dreams are coming soon. 

Now that he knew you were with a healthy child, he was never going to let you go. If he had to fight for the sake of his child, he wouldn’t hesitate even if it’s you. After all, a child was more important than your temporary stupidity. 

[qoldenskies]

You’ve mentioned it a few times but I’m actually really curious as to April’s reaction toward them shit-talking Donnie? Particularly the first time, but in general, too, because the only thing resembling that is her pressing the boys about Donnie not acting off unless something is wrong. We (obviously) only really see the curse from Donnie’s perspective, very occasionally one of the boys mention their perspective, but nothing from the outsiders! Splinter makes me curious too, but he only had his accidental gaslighting scene, so 🫠

the only indication that it was happening was that first phone call where she mentioned mikey saying some nasty things to her through text, and she was generally being very forgiving about it. "he was just venting" was probably something she attributed to MOST of their weird behavior about donnie, but i still think they held back around her at least a LITTLE because if it got too bad she would call it out. april wouldn't want to thought-police, and sometimes their complaints were more funny than they were harmful (oooh how she must regret laughing with them now, like donnie's undeniably who she's closest with out of the four but she doesn't take his shit so i could see her finding it funny and harmless... little does she know), but once they crossed a certain point she'd tell them they were just being vindictive and shitty. there's no way they haven't gone to her complaining about each other in the past, its inevitable that you're gonna have grievances when you live with someone and april's really the closest friend they've got, although she's not always up for putting up with it PFFT. i could also see her thinking they want advice, or giving solutions to their "problems" (because i think she'd find venting for the sake of it a little aggravating? very solution oriented person imo), and they straight up just lied to her and said they'd listen and then did nothing lmao.

really they all lead april and splinter on just like they did donnie, with all of their worst moves they planned around it and intentionally threw them off the trail. honestly when it came to things like that first phone call and the one on the rooftop, i could also see it as an intentional play to get april IN on it, although it didn't really. work lmfao, she could tell something was off, even if she didn't have reason to suspect the depth of it. i dont have reason to write from their POVs but they are both going through some shiiiit, they really got CONNED and they both feel so ashamed about it. they're doing what they can to rectify it now, but its causing a lot of self-doubt. i could see both of them being almost over-attentive after this is said and done. they both certainly feel like they were way too negligent.