#so that probably means i should fix my wrist so i can stop hiding it and they could stop questioning it

[lincolndjarin]

my way.

pairing : oberyn martell x f!reader

summary : being the prince of dorne can often be a rather stressful job, it's hard to give, and give, and give. sometimes you just need to be on the receiving end for a little while.

warnings, tags, etc : five seconds of plot to build up to a whole lot of porn, pegging (obvi), medieval strap on, glass toys, fingering, oberyn sucks the strap, allusions to other partners, referring to a dildo as a cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation if you squint, premature ejaculation?? idk he cums fast bc i'm a sucker for that, cum play, reader has brief penis envy idk if that's the term but yeah, spit as lube bc its the olden days or whatever, anal sex, soft & loving sex, sort of a gentle dom vibe from reader, they're married <3 <3 <3, aftercare, i didn't really edit this as much as i should have (i'm sleepy) so apologies in advance

a/n : hello lovelies !!!! i am back from my little break with a little middle aged man pegging!! check out @wannab-urs who put together this entire project for a full masterlist of everyones works soon <3 apologies if i'm a little rusty i'm still getting back into my writing groove :3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Everything always has to be his way. 

If you didn’t love him so much it would probably irritate you more. And when it does bother you he always does his best to fix it but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Your sweet prince has always done right by you but he’s never done it your way, and when things don’t go exactly as he wants them to he becomes a real pain. 

You know it isn’t entirely his fault of course. The combination of never being told no and having to make decisions that affect the people of Dorne in real time, often leaves him stressed beyond comprehension. 

Today it seems to be particularly bad as he paces around your shared chambers. You had spent your day reading and baking bread, everything had been perfectly fine until he burst through the door, rambling about a funding dispute he’s been having with his brother for weeks now. You can tell by the glint in his eye that things clearly aren’t going his way, before you get a chance to comfort him he snaps at you. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” It’s a small critique, you have been staring at him waiting for this sort of thing, so you take control of the situation rather quickly. 

“Let me give you a chance to apologize before this becomes a fight.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. He immediately picks up on the annoyance in your voice as his features soften from anger to shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He really means it as he bows his head a bit. “It’s just- It’s been a difficult day.” He makes his way over to you, taking one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. “I’m sorry, my stars.”

“I know, my moon, it’s okay.” You move the hand he holds to his lips, cradling his face briefly as he smiles, to your dismay it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s still tense. 

“I think I’d go mad if I didn’t get to come home to you each day.” You don’t doubt that. 

“Why don’t you let me help you out a little?” You wrap your arms around him, letting your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. “Let me take care of you.” You barely speak above a whisper now as his body starts to relax in response to your touch. He walks you towards the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, just as expected he immediately takes control of the situation, barely letting you get another word in as his hands slide down your waist like they’ve done countless times before except this time you catch his wrists before he can get that far. “Can you lay down for me?” The moment you ask the question he raises an eyebrow before complying, moving to sit with his back against the headboard as you go to your nightstand. 

You’ve used the toy a few times before with your other partners but as far as you know Oberyn’s never even seen it. You haven’t made any effort to hide it from him but he’s always so quick to act when it’s just the two of you, he never gives you much of a chance to do anything but take what he gives. No wonder he’s so stressed, he’s never taken a moment to just receive. 

The moment you crawl up the bed to him he’s already back on you. All teeth and hands as he pulls you against him, you have to force yourself to pull away from him though it pains you greatly. 

“Not yet- I want to try something new.” You don’t give him a chance to question as you reach across him to your nightstand. You just had a new toy made, hand blown glass, for this sort of occasion, as you toss it down next to him his eyes squint in confusion before going wide. 

“Where did you get that, my love?” His words drawl a bit, his Dornish accent hangs heavy in the air as you lift your dress over your head, tossing it aside, sitting before him completely bare as you slip into the leather straps, cinching the buckles carefully before taking the toy and holding it in one hand languidly. 

“A glass smith nearby has been more than willing to experiment with his craft for me. Is this something you’re interested in trying?” You can already tell what his answer is going to be based on his expression but you still want to hear him say it. 

“Of course, I’d try anything for you.” He purrs softly as you push him back into the pillows. You lay him back, an action he’s done to you countless times before, tugging at the cords of his robe. Between the two of you, eager to get him undressed, it only takes a moment before the fabric hits the floor. Once he’s as bare as you are you’re able to see just how much the idea thrills him as his red tipped cock slaps against his stomach. 

“Do you think you can relinquish control for just a little while, my prince?” You rake your nails against his chest lightly as he nods. “Good. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, put all your focus on taking what I give you, do you understand?” You stop your hands movement downwards right as you reach the patch of hair on his lower stomach. 

“Absolutely.” He flashes you a toothy grin and you can’t help but respond with one of your own. 

“You will do as I say then. And if I ask something of you that you do not like then you will say stop, is that clear?” You want so badly to take his cock into your hands or mouth but you’re trying to be patient as you pull your hand back. This is for his sake, not yours. 

“Perfectly clear.” His hips twitch upwards a bit, almost taunting your resolve as you press him back down into the mattress. 

“Lovely,” You hum, stroking the glass toy between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth, tapping his lips. “Open.” He complies quickly, parting his lips as you slide the tip of the toy in, reveling in his moans. He looks so… right, like this. Eyes wide and eager as his tongue laps at the cool glass, tracing the ridges, legs spread, and cock twitching in excitement. You can’t help but wonder why you didn’t do this sooner. 

You push the fake cock just a little further past his lips before letting him take hold of it, turning to other matters. 

“Warm that up please, you wouldn’t want it to be cold when I fill you up.” As you murmur those words he groans against the glass. 

Unceremoniously you spit into your hand, giddy with excitement as you nudge his legs a bit further apart. You spread the plush flesh of his ass to notch your digits at his hole, gently pushing just the tip of your pointer finger in, feeling him tighten around you with a gasp. 

“Relax, my love.” You coo, waiting until his muscles release a bit before pushing onward. This isn’t your first time doing this sort of thing of course but it is the first time he’s going to be taking something other than your fingers or tongue, so you work him open slowly. Watching the stress unravel from his body as you work in a second finger, curling and scissoring them as his back arches, cock bobbing against his stomach as his fingers grip the sheets around him. 

When he’s able to take three of your fingers you pull the toy from his mouth with a soft pop, the toy slick with spit and properly warmed easily slips into the designated slot on your harness. He watches with a palpable anticipation as you get yourself situated. When you’re ready you’re kneeling between his legs, glass cock standing proudly against your pelvis. 

“Ready?” You ask as you gently lift his legs, bringing his knees to his chest as he nods, damn near whimpering. 

You push into him, slowly, as you gauge his reaction. Usually he’s all grunts and grumbles during sex but now he’s gasps and whines. His hands clutch the pillows surrounding his head as he tries to push himself further onto the toy but the position you’ve got him in keeps him in place. 

“You want more?” There’s a mocking lilt to your voice as he nods rapidly.

“Yes- please.” He purses his lips as he whimpers and you’re more than happy to oblige, watching the sight before you as his hole swallows your cock, his own dick leaking against his stomach, begging for a release. You adjust your hips a bit, watching his back attempt to arch as you do so. “Th-there.” His voice is strained as you hit that sweet spot inside of him. Ever so gently you pull out before rocking yourself back against it. 

“There? Is that what you want?” You continue to speak in a teasing tone but you truly want to know, this is all for his sake, you want so badly to make him feel good. His cheeks are flushed, warm skin slick with sweat as he continues to nod. You repeat the motion a few more times, caught off guard when he lets out a low whine and you watch as his cock pulses, untouched, as he paints his torso. His breath catches in his throat as he does so. “Oh my, look at the mess you’ve made, and so quickly.” You drag a finger over his heaving chest, scooping up some of his spend to taste, letting the bitter sweetness coat your tongue. “You were more pent up than I thought, my love. I think you still have some stress that needs releasing.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” He stammers, looking a bit embarrassed but you immediately shake your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead while simultaneously sinking back into him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling good, sunshine. That’s what this is all for.” You bump your nose against his, hoping to reassure him. “Do you think you could give me one more, I just want to make sure I get all the stress out.” You emphasize your words with a small push of his legs tighter against his chest, earning a soft mewl from him. 

“I can do one more.” 

“Wonderful.” You kiss his cheek before picking up the same pace you were at just moments ago. Happily watching his cock jump back to life. You take the opportunity to drag your fingers through the cum cooling on his abdomen, drawing little shapes as he begins to reach that same peak rapidly all over again. You adore the sight of your glass cock sliding in and out of him. He takes you so well, his hole fluttering as he lets you fuck him. You wish you had a real cock just so you could feel him tighten around you but this will have to do. His neglected dick continues to rest against his happy trail, desperate to be touched. This time you help him out, wrapping your hand around his cock, with a few quick pumps he’s coating his stomach in cum all over again.

It’s positively euphoric to see the prince of Dorne like this. 

Just for you. Spread before you without a care in the world, stuffed full of your cock and happy as can be.

You give him a moment to catch his breath before pulling out, peppering his cheeks with kisses before slipping out of the harness and leaving to get him some water as well as something to wipe him up with. 

You gently wipe him down with a warm washcloth, cleaning him while continuing to kiss his face as he yawns. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, taking your face in his hands, pulling you forward for another kiss. 

“Anytime, we take care of each other, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” You climb under the blankets with him, tangling your limbs with his as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, clearly exhausted as he falls asleep against you. You feel your own exhaustion hit, smiling to yourself as you close your eyes. You couldn’t be happier that he let you try things your way.

[angstywaifu]

I Just Want To Talk To Them - Garrick Tavis x Reader

Prompt - “Who did this to you? I just want to talk to them” @fw-gt A/N: This is for the Garrick girls who love the cocky flirty side of him. Enjoy. Masterlist

I winced as the healer prodded around my now very broken nose. Cleaning up what she could of the blood that had run down my face. Which was a lot. The mender had fixed most of the damage, but had to use their abilities on other cadets. Meaning I still had some bruising and tenderness where I had taken the full force of an elbow to the face during a challenge.

It had been a stupid mistake. One I knew Garrick and Xaden would lecture me about later. I had dropped my guard and my opponent had seen it. I had lost the challenge because of it. My first one this year. Wrecking my streak of going undefeated for two years. So close to a perfect three year streak. Luckily neither had been at challenges to see what had happened. But there was no way I could hide what had happened. One cause my nose had been broken and couldn’t be fully healed. Two it would be the talk of the quadrant.

“Use this a few times a day, should clear up the bruising and tenderness in no time. If you have any trouble breathing or any issues just come back.” She says with a smile as she holds the healing balm out to me.

I nod a thanks and take it from her hands before pushing off the bed. I was half expecting Garrick or Xaden to be waiting for me as I leave. But I don’t see them anywhere. Meaning they hadn’t heard yet. Or they were waiting for me somewhere. Due to the last class of the day still being on the corridors are quiet. Meaning the bathrooms would be as well. I decide to head there, knowing the healer would have only got some of the blood off my face and clothes. And my suspicions are correct as I stare into the mirror in the bathroom. Most of the blood around my nose and mouth is gone, but the blood that had worked its way down my neck hadn’t been touched. It almost looked like I had bathed in blood if the rest of my skin and clothes weren’t free of blood. That would be a sight to see. I quickly scrub the blood off my neck. I should have gone to my room and grabbed new clothes and showered. But with training with the other marked ones tonight, showering now probably wasn’t my smartest idea. As I leave the bathroom the corridors are filled with people and chatter. The last class of the day clearly done. I quickly rush over to my room, avoiding any stares that might feed any rumours that had started. I open my door, quickly shutting it behind me as I lean up against it, closing my eyes and sighing in relief.

”Who did this to you?” A gruff stern voice says from my desk.

I jump and nearly drop the healing balm in my hands, awkwardly juggling it till I catch it. I look over to meet Garrick’s gaze. Garrick who is leaning back in my desk chair, his feet resting on the desk as he twirls a dagger between his fingers. If it wasn’t for the words that had left his mouth I would find it attractive. And honestly still did. But with the fire and anger in his eyes, a chill runs down my spine. Garrick had clearly heard I had lost my challenge and ended up in the healers quadrant, but not to who. His eyes lower to my neck and uniform where some of the blood still lingers.

”It was just a challenge. It doesn’t matter.” I tell him as I go to walk behind him and place the healing balm on my bedside table.

But Garrick moves with a speed I’ve never seen before as his feet drop from the desk, turning the chair to grab my wrist, pulling me to a stop. Despite him sitting, I feel small under his gaze. His eyes commanding me to give up the information. This was why he was a section leader. He embodied leadership and authority without even trying.

”It. Matters.” He emphasises each word. “Now, who did this to you?”

”Why does it matter?” I say back as sternly as I can.

With the look in his eyes I know if I give up the name it wont end well for them. Even if it was a challenge where the goal was to fight each other and come out the other side the victor. Garrick didn’t care. He had always been protective of me. More so than any other marked cadet.

”I just want to talk to them.” He says with a smile, a smile that showed he did not want to just talk to them.

”We both know that is not what you are going to do.” I tell him before removing my arm from his grip and walking over to my bedside table.

I hear his slight chuckle at my words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I turn to find him staring at me as I narrow my eyes at him. Garrick does his best attempt at a sweet smile, but with the anger still burning in his eyes contradicts it.

”You do. I can see it in your eyes. You do not want to just talk to them Gar. It was a challenge, they did what they were meant to do.”

”They hurt what I care about most.” He says as he stands, the chair sounding like it sighs in relief. He walks over and stands in front of me, grasping my chin between his fingers, forcing my face to look up at his. “So I will ask again sweet heart before I go find them another way. Who did this to you?”

My mind goes blank. Did… did Garrick just call me sweet heart? Wait. What he cares about most? I must look at him confused, as he smiles and chuckles at me He leans down, placing his mouth next to my ear.

”If you tell me who it is, I may just come back and reward you for it once I’m done talking.”

Before I can even think or register what I’ve done I blurt out the name of the cadet who I had been put up against for challenges. A sinister smirk gracing Garrick’s lips that has my heart fluttering.

”Good girl.” He whisper before kissing my cheek and walking out the door. Part 2

[crechi]

tense changes. tense changes abound. could i fix them? of course. will we? why would you expect me to?

you’ve been warned.

I woke up in the middle of the night. My ability to remain asleep has been getting worse and worse the past few weeks. I really should start taking my melatonin, but it just makes me feel so panicked. I don’t like the feeling of forcing myself to pass out.

I pat the spot next to me and am met with the cold feeling of the vacant sheets. As I sit confused trying to figure out why she’s out of bed, my head is quiet enough that I can hear quiet sniffling coming from the hallway.

She’s crying in the living room.

I grab her blanket from her side of the bed and get up. I don’t know why she didn't take it with her. . . Maybe she wasn’t expecting to start crying when she got out of bed.

I walk into the living room and she jerks in surprise seeing me come out of the bedroom. Immediately, she gets up from the couch and tries to shove past me into the bathroom, wiping her tears with her hands. I even catch a tiny “sorry,” one she probably didn’t intend for me to hear.

I grab her wrist as she walks past me to stop her.

“What’d I say about doing that?”

Her arms fall limp and she faces away from me, trying to hide her face. I wrap the blanket around her and scoop her up in it, carrying her back to the couch. I sit down and place her in my lap. At first, she’s reluctant to start crying again as I hold her, which tells me the issue is something about me, but eventually she leans into me and starts silently letting the tears fall. I begin to sing one of her favorite songs as I rock her, but she shakes her head to let me know to stop. She wants it to be quiet.

We sit like that for a few minutes. After a while, she starts to speak.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, bunny. Do you want to talk?”

“. . .We need to,” she says, reluctantly.

She’s been falling out of love with me, I can tell. She’s not been as excited to see me, or as happy when we’re together, and she’s had such a guilty expression. She gets the same expression now with Tohyŏn that she used to when she first fell in love with me. She’s beating herself up for not wanting to be with me anymore, and I hate watching it.

“I think I know what this is about, but do you want to start?”

“You. . . know? What it is. . .?”

“Don’t I always?” I smirk slightly.

“Yeah. . .”

It was quiet for a few moments.

“I’d rather you s-” she choked on a sob. “-start.”

“You know you aren’t betraying me because your feelings have changed, right? It’s not your fault. Everything you’re feeling is normal and okay.”

She didn’t respond and only started to cry more. I hugged her closer to me.

“I’m not gonna blame you for breaking up with me, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either.”

She stifled her sniffles long enough to get a sentence out. "It's not your fault, either. . ."

I let out a small laugh. "No. It's not. This is no one's fault, because it's not wrong."

"But it hurts-" she choked on her words, and I began rocking her again. "A lot."

"Yeah. . . But just because it hurts, doesn't mean it's wrong."

“I just wish. . ." She cut herself off and looked off into space. "If you didn’t do anything wrong then why am I not in love with you anymore?” She looked up at me with the guiltiest expression I’ve seen on her. She isn’t being fair to herself. An unfortunate habit of hers.

“Because you’re not the same person you were two years ago,” I cupped her face with my hand and began to stroke her cheek with my thumb. “. . .and that isn’t your fault, either.”

She curled herself into my shoulder and started crying again. I rubbed circles on her back with my palm. I want to take her pain away, but I know it won’t just disappear.

“What’re we gonna do?” Her voice sounded so miserable and distraught. Her vocal cords sounded like they were cracking from the strain of her emotions. She’s stressed out far too much. . .

“We can figure that out in the morning, yeah? Right now, we should just get you back to sleep. Do you want me to help you wipe your face?”

She nodded and I carried her to the bathroom. I set her down on her feet. She held the edges of her blanket so it wouldn’t slide off. I grabbed some unscented baby wipes and cleaned off her face. She still looked so guilty, and wished I could take those emotions away from her. I kissed her on the forehead and stood up. I took her hand and led her back to the bedroom.

She crawled onto her side of the bed and laid down facing away from my side. I climb in behind her and pull her closer to me. She takes my hand to hold and starts rubbing small circles into my palm.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Hurting you.”

I hadn’t been acknowledging my feelings up until now, so her words sent a pang to my chest.

I let out a sad chuckle. “That’s not your fault, bunny.” I kissed her hair.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, then spoke again.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Sure, what is it, baby?”

She turned over to face me.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.” Another pang. The “after I’m gone” was implied, though I wonder if she meant to say it and couldn’t bring herself to.

“Of cour-”

She put her hands on my cheeks and pulled her forehead to mine. She closed her eyes and sighed.

”Please. Please be okay.” Her voice was broken. The way she said that broke me, and I began crying as well. My tears weren’t as silent as hers, small heaves came out as I finally addressed my feelings. I wanted to promise that I’ll be okay without her, but I couldn’t.

I laced my hands in the hair where her scalp transitions into her neck, and held her head to mine.

“I’ll try. For you.”

-

Within the next month, she had moved in with Tohyǒn. Currently, you can find me sitting in the doorway to our. . . my bedroom, with my back against the doorframe. My legs are pulled to my chest and I’m staring at the ceiling. Or, the top of the frame, anyway. I trace the lines of the doorframe with my eyes as I get lost in thought. I mean, it’s a good thing to stare at to space out. If I were to choose the most interesting section of the ceiling, this would be it.

I lift my head and check my phone to find the time.

11:14 pm.

I sigh and throw my head back. The first few nights alone without her were. . . rough. She’d said I could call her if I wanted, since she wanted to help me through this, and I did a few times, but. . . tonight, I don’t want to bother her. I still feel so empty though.

I always hate feeling like this. Not allowing myself to wouldn’t do any good for anyone, though, me or her. I’ll heal eventually if I allow myself, so. . .

For now-

“Milo! Simon!”

It's cat cuddling time.

Only one of them came running, the bell on her collar jingling as she trotted up to me. I picked her up and sat her on my lap.

“Hey, Milo-buddy. You feeling alright?” Not sure if I’m talking to the cat or myself.

I pet her sides and she started purring. She looked up at me with her ees mostly squeezed shut, then they widened as she focused in on something on my chest. She rolled over onto her back and started bapping it, and I realized what it was as she played with it in between her paws.

A necklace that Penny gave to me. I barely even registered that I was wearing it.

Forever your treasure, -P <3

Ah, irony. Either that, or I put it on to torture myself. I unclasp it from around my neck. I can't keep this. I know it’ll only torture me.

The wonders that past experience does for a man. . . This is gonna hurt like hell, later.

With Milo’s attention still focused on it, I jiggle it in the air. Her ears perk up and her pupils dilate. I throw it into the kitchen and she bolts after it. She probably likes it so much for how shiny it was. There’s a pattern of her losing her favorite things in places that I can never uncover when she comes to bother me about her toys being gone, so the necklace is already as good as lost.

Such a delightful thought. . .

I had started thinking about other things she’d given me, and which ones I could keep or not. A meow comes from my right. I look at him. “There you are, Simon!” I picked him up and placed him on my lap, starting to pet his back. “Finally decided to show up, huh bud?”

Simon’s loud purrs are good for me. The numerous slow blinks always brighten my mood, too. I picked him up by his armpits and held him over my head.

“You’re a pretty kitty, you know that?” He made a noise as if he was actually responding. I set him back down and continued to pet him, ignoring the fact that my sleep schedule was crumbling into dust as I sat there.

first time writing a healthy straight couple and it’s angst. damn, what did y'all do to me to deserve this? smh

[devildomdisaster]

I’d like to request a body switching scenario with [Satan, Asmo, Beelz, Solomon, Simeon] and an Gender Neutral MC with undisclosed chronic health issues. Like brittle bones that break if you step a little goofy, stress ulcers, sensitivity to light, joint pain, poor stamina, etc. I just want to see the boys go “You live like this?!”

Satan:

Satan has a habit of collecting rare magical objects. Somehow quite a few of these cause body-switching incidents.

The cursed object causes the two of you to lose consciousness for a few minutes. When he wakes up he is in immediate pain.

His first thought is that the spell must have caused this and you must be in pain too! If he, a demon, is in this much pain it must be excruciating for a human.

He rushes to you or tries to. But falls to his knees in shock as a shooting pain runs through him.

He blinks watering eyes and sees his body stirring on the floor and realizes you’ve switched bodies.

You sit up feeling better than you’ve felt in years. Wondering if this is ‘normal’ or if that cursed object gave you super healing.

It’s only when you hear your own voice calling your name that you realize you and Satan have switched bodies.

You can see the tears in his(your body's) eyes and know exactly what's happening. You’ve had chronic pain for years. And Satan is sitting in just the right way to send shooting pain up your spine.

“Lay down on your back,” you order him. He has just enough control to follow your order and lower your body down slowly.

You can see Satan’s relief on your face as the pain eases slightly. It takes a moment for the worst of the pain to subside and his breath to even out.

He’s staring at the ceiling when he speaks, voice still a little shaky, “You live like this?”

You hum out a yes.

“All- all the time?” he asks, horrified.

“Sometimes it's worse than others. If I move or sit in certain ways it gets real bad. But if I avoid those movements it’s bearable.”

Satan turns to you “This is what you call bearable?!”

You shrug, “That position is usually pretty safe. So yeah probably.”

He is careful to move your body a little as possible as he shifts to point at a spellbook. “That book-”

“Are you going to change us back?” you ask.

“I-” he hesitates. Clearly not wanting you to be in pain again.

“Look, Satan it’s not that I don’t enjoy being pain-free. But I’ve dealt with it for years now. I’ve learned how to function around it. I had to. You on the other hand are going to be laying on the floor for most of the day if you stay in my body.”

“I’m going to find a way to fix you.” He says firmly as you place the book in his hands.

“Promises, promise,” you sing, preparing yourself to experience the pain in your body again.

“I mean it. As soon as I can move again I am going to find a way to help you. Devildom magic has to be better than human medicine.”

Asmo:

Asmo bought you matching bracelets. “Look Mc, I bought us these bracelets! They are supposed to bring us closer together!”

Well, they did bring you closer together. Just not in the way Asmo intended.

When he clasped the bracelets on, you felt a shiver go down your spine and when you opened your eyes you felt...different. Better. There was no aching pain. For once the dazzling lights of Asmo’s room didn’t cause you to wince. That's when you realize you’ve switched bodies.

Asmo on the other hand immediately cringed and squeezed his eyes closed, clutching his(your) head.

Asmo groaned pitifully, teary eyes squinting at you “Mc, how do you do anything like this??”

He curls up beneath his covers, and you make your way around his room turning off all the lights and closing his curtains. Once the light is gone, Asmo peers out from beneath the covers, “Do you live like this all the time?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“No wonder your room is so dark. I thought you were just being dramatic.”

You shrug at him, “The Devildom is better than the human realm. There’s no bright sunlight here.”

Once the spell wears off, Asmo keeps the bracelet on both as a reminder of how you live with this chronic illness and as the intended purpose of showing how close the two of you are.

He buys you super dark glasses to try and filter out some of the bright light that bothers you.

and asks Solomon to help him find any magical treatments that might help you.

Beel:

Beel and you switch bodies after eating some of Solomon’s cooking.

Neither of you wants to eat Solomon’s cooking, but you had the misfortune to be the only two people who couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it.

Beel doesn’t know how it happened, Solomon doesn’t know how it happened, you sure as hell don’t know how this happened. But here you are with a strange magic ‘cake’ in hand, looking at your body from Beel’s eyes.

Your first thought is how strong you feel in Beel’s body. Like you could do anything. The exhaustion and joint pain you normally deal with is gone.

Is this how normal people live? Although you suppose a demon doesn’t count as a normal human, so it’s not such a good comparison.

You watch as Beel catches himself on the counter as he adjusts to the symptoms of your illness.

He lowers your body to the ground. Sitting gingerly as the movement causes the joint pain to flare.

“Mc, is this how you feel every day?” He is so so concerned about you! How do you function if you feel like this all the time? “Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

“It’s ok, Beel. I’ve figured out how to deal with it.”

“It is not ok. Mc, we could have helped you!”

It’s strange to be lectured by your own voice and body. But Beel does a good job of it. He insists that you have to tell him when your symptoms act up and convinces you to let him speak with Lucifer about trying some magical treatments.

The potion doesn’t wear off for several hours. You feel a tad bit guilty about enjoying this when Beel is so obviously suffering, but you can’t remember the last time you felt so good. So capable.

Once the spell wears off Beel insists on carrying you around so you aren't as fatigued and to avoid aggravating your joint pain.

Be prepared for trying a string of different potions and spells to treat your illness, under the watchful eyes of Beel and Lucifer.

Solomon:

After hearing about Lucifer and Satan’s body-switching incident Solomon went looking for another cursed book.

He’d heard some rumor about Satan’s book having a twin and was determined to find it.

And find it he did.

You accidentally touched the book at the same time as him and switched bodies.

Solomon is more intrigued than anything else. “Do you live like this all the time? If so, you do a remarkable job of hiding it.”

He is going to test the limits of your body’s capabilities. He wants to know what situations cause pain or discomfort so that you can’t pretend to be ok when you aren’t.

You’ll have to warn him if he is doing anything that might permanently harm your body.

Unlike some of the others, Solomon doesn’t immediately look for a way to switch back.

When the spell wears off Solomon has a near-complete understanding of your condition. He knows what causes pain, what doesn’t, and what situations you should absolutely avoid.

“Mc, you need to stop pretending you are ok when you’re not. I’ll be here to help you when you need it. And if that help happens to be stopping you from doing foolish things to save face then so be it.”

Solomon keeps a close eye on you from now on. He respects you enough to not tell anyone about your condition if you don’t want him to, but he will also come up with the strangest excuses to remove you from activities he knows will aggravate your condition.

If there is magic that can be used to help you Solomon will find it. Just be prepared to feel a little bit like a lab rat while he figures out the perfect spell or potion to help you.

Simeon:

Simeon wants to know what it feels like to be human. He thinks it would give him a greater understanding of humanity.

He mentions this to Solomon, who being the chaos loving wizard he is, makes a potion to allow Simeon to switch bodies with you.

The problem occurs when Solomon 'forgets’ to tell you both that he’s already put the potion in your tea.

Simeon is shocked. He finds himself in your body. Looking at himself through your eyes. And by god does your body hurt!

“Mc, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I think Solomon’s little joke may have gone wrong. I-everything hurts.”

You blink at Simeon...er Simeon in your body. Mind taking a moment to catch up with the sudden body switch. You feel great. Part of that might be due to being in an angel's body, but mostly it's due to the lack of pain.

“Oh, everything's fine on my end. So it must be my chronic pain. It’s worse today than others.”

“Wh-what do you do when it’s bad?”

“Usually I try to distract myself. Or try to take a nap and hope I wake up feeling better. But we’d made plans and I didn’t want to cancel so…”

“So you decided to deal with extra pain for my sake? Oh, Mc. You should have told me you live like this. I can help”

“There’s no point, Simeon. Not a single doctor I’ve been to has found anything wrong with me. I didn’t want anyone here to pity me.”

“I am an angel, Mc. I’m quite sure I can do a bit more than your human doctors.”

You help Simeon to his room where you spend the afternoon watching human world movies to help distract him.

Simeon sleeps fitfully next to you and as you drift off you wonder if that is how you always look when you let your guard down enough to show your pain.

When the potion wears off you are both asleep, curled up next to each other.

When you wake up you are back in your own body. Simeon is sitting next to you slipping a charmed bracelet onto your wrist. “This is from the Celestial realm. It should help keep your pain at a more manageable level until I can find a more permanent solution.”

[twistedmusings]

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

[hanmaenthusiast]

Always and Forever

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

inui x f!reader

warnings - mdni🔞, praise, mutual pining?, sofa sex, oral (female receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, riding, body worship, creampie, basically vanilla smut, slight fluff, profanity, use of pet names such as angel and darling, one mention of blood.

synopsis - you and Inui had been living together for a while, one night he comes home wounded after being attacked at work, you have no choice but to help him out in one way or another.

a/n - this is my first post on tumblr & first time attempting smut! apologies for any mistakes, i’m hoping to write more in the future & get better at it lol, anyway the lack of inui on this app is killing me >:(

wc - 2,950

It was late, much later than usual. Seishu still hadn’t come home considering his shift finishes around 4 on a Saturday, you kept your gaze on the clock which continued to tick past 7pm. You found yourself worrying again, worrying about all the possibilities that could’ve happened to him. I mean it was normal to be this concerned, especially since your long term roommate was an ex gang member.

Once again you started pacing around the room, fingers etching to send another distressing ‘where are you?’ or ‘tell me you’re not dead’ text. Seishu’s stern words replayed in your mind ‘Stop worrying about me Y/N, focus on yourself for once’ as you remembered his constant lectures.

Finally gathering yourself together, a set of keys jamming into the front door caught your attention. Sprinting down the stairs your eyes glued onto Inui’s figure as he stood slightly hunched with a prominent bloody gash on his forehead.

“Seishu what the fuck?” you exclaimed, almost passing out at the sight in front of you. It was like you had premonitions about this scenario only seconds before he made his apperance.

“Agh, not so loud, my head is sore.” he groaned, running a hand through his hair after locking the door behind him. He shuffled his way into the room latching onto your arm for support.

“I can quite well see that, sit down over there i’ll clean you up.” you helped him over to the dining table, placing him down onto one of the wooden seats.

Inui told you what happened, how he was suddenly attacked by a group of presumed male gang members at the motor shop unbeknownst to why it played out. Your gut tightened at the story, afraid of any future encounters with them.

“Jesus, they got you good huh. You have to be more aware from now on, where was Draken hm? You better tell him i’ll-“

“Y/N.” Seishu let out a low sigh, he cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

His gemlike pearls fixed onto yours, exchanging a sombre look. You could tell he didn’t need to hear your berating.

“Sorry.” you muttered continuing to clean up his wound.

Ever since you met Inui, you stuck together like glue both having similar interests and mutual acquaintances made it easier to find a blossoming friendship. Of course, you felt a little more than friends towards Inui continuously expressing your feelings from early on.

“Y’know you’re super cute Seishu-“ you tilted your head, hovering it above his “no wonder there’s tons of people feening over you, me included.” you added, tracing a finger over his scar as he lay his head on your lap.

“Yeah? Same goes for you Y/N.” he replied with his tone full of sarcasm, according to him you were making a joke.

This continued for months, constantly sharing flirty remarks but never pursuing one another. Some people had their suspicions, Draken especially, always assuming you’re both in a secret relationship.

“Oi, Seishu your girlfriend’s outside.” Draken nodded towards the entrance of the shop, wiping his hands clean with a rag.

Inui exhaled followed with a roll of his eyes. “She’s just a friend Ken, i’ve told you this multiple times.”

“Seriously just a friend? That mean i have a chance ‘nupi?” Draken giggled, elbowing his colleague in the arm.

“Don’t you dare even try it.” Seishu warned him.

“There, all cleaned up. There’s some leftovers in the fridge too if you’re hungry.” you declared, but before you could retreat back to the sofa, a soft hand grasped you wrist.

“Thank you, genuinely Y/N. I hope you know i’m grateful for everything you do.”

His glossy eyes stared into yours as his sincere words spilled from his mouth. Seishu’s gaze left you with butterflies, a feeling of comfort you would admit, it was odd to see him so thankful seeing as you should be considered a burden to him for how often you seek his safety.

“I know you are, buuut all that praise will have my ego inflating, on another note it was kinda hot seeing your face all bloody.” you laughed kissing above his wound gently before finding a seat on the sofa.

Moments later Inui joined you, resting his head on your shoulder making use of the rest of the couch as he sprawled out his legs. Once he was settled, you both shared a mutual silence watching the TV.

...11:04pm

Your narrowing eyes scanned over your phone, squinting at it’s bright screen shining into your pupils as you attempted to read the time. ���Shit, must’ve fell asleep.’ you concluded, shifting your weight onto your elbow as you propped up.

You noticed the familiar blondie sleeping tirelessly beside you, an arm positioned lazily over of your waist. Seishu was sound asleep, or so you thought, his ruffled hair tickling your cheeks as you found yourself laying back down facing towards him.

“So precious.” you whispered, lifting your palm gently onto his face as your thumb rubbed slow circles against his pale skin. This was probably the closest you and Seishu had been, cuddled together, bodies attached to one another seeing as the sofa wasn’t roomy enough.

“That feels nice.” Seishu whispered, his soft spoken voice breaking the silence. He brought his hand to yours, placing it on top as he matched your movements, fingers delicately tracing your skin.

“Oh- uhm, well it looks like we fell asleep, i hope you feel somewhat better after having a nap.” you croaked, suddenly feeling the heat rush to your face from embarrassment. Before you lingered around any longer, you sat upright as your back faced Seishu’s figure “I’ll let you rest a little longer-“

“No, stay.” he grabbed your wrist once again, restricting you from fleeing the scene. “Please…for me?” he pleaded, one arm resting on top of his forehead as the other hand was still wrapped around your wrist.

You hesitated, only for a second until you shortly gave into his innocent eyes face paired with a soppy look. “Anything for you Seishu.” you lay back down, again facing towards him on your side.

“Perfect.” he muttered a breathy whisper, a small smile formed on his face along with his emerald eyes flexing a lustrous stare. A dainty finger of his trailed across your cheek moving a strand of hair from your face.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed again, almost tongue-tied especially in this situation. You and Seishu were admittedly always close but never this intimate.

Once again the atmosphere grew silent but before you could mutter a word, Seishu let out a sigh. “You’re…perfect.” Inui murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Seishu…” a soft exhale escaped your lips.

Inui’s hand found it’s way to your chin, gently lifting it upwards so you were eye level to him. “Can i kiss you, Y/N?” his thumb swiped a slow stripe along your lower lip.

You nodded in reply, discreetly trying to hide your inner enthusiasm as you closed your eyes allowing Inui to take the lead. Seishu’s lips planted a longed for soft-lipped peck against yours, gradually finding motion as he continued kissing your lips.

The thumping of your heart increased, focusing only on the rhythm of how soft and velvety Seishu’s lips felt against your own. His a hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him without breaking contact.

Your free hand grasped his blonde locks, running your fingers messily through his hair. Your lips begun to plump, meshing together with Seishu’s perfectly as he slipped his needy tongue into your mouth.

“You- don’t know…how long i’ve- wanted this.” his voice muttered between kisses, claiming your lips after every word. You felt yourself grinding ever so slightly against Inui’s thigh, hoping to release the friction caused by his tongue senselessly invading the depths of your mouth.

Faint whimpers escaped your lips as you continued to slowly rock yourself against Inui’s lower half. “Seishu~“ you panted quietly “N-need more.” your hand balled up his shirt, gripping onto it for support.

Inui’s hand which recently held onto your waist found itself sneakily travelling under your cami, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. He made quick work of removing your shirt slowly followed by slipping off your undergarment.

“God, you’re gorgeous Y/N. So fucking gorgeous.” he admitted, lips tracing along the outline of your jaw as his eyes glistened at the sight of your naked breasts exposed in front of him. “Prettiest tits ever.” His soft hands ghosting over your breasts, thumb and pointer finger capturing one of your hardened nubs beginning to knead the flesh of your mounds.

Seishu slowed his pace, a small string of saliva connected your lips as he broke the kiss. “Tell me what you need angel. Although i must say, the rutting against my leg isn’t very discreet darling.” he joked letting out a small chuckle, eyes glancing down to your clothed needy cunt.

“Want you to…“ you struggled to express your needs, unable to finish your sentence as you buried your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Don’t go all shy on me now angel, use your words for me okay?” Seishu placed a hand over your tight shorts, pads of his fingers rubbing against your clothed pussy as moved them up and down ever so slightly.

“Ngh! Want more of that, please Seishu.” you choked, almost begging on your knees asking him to please your throbbing cunt. Seishu made quick work of removing your lower garments, pulling down your shorts as he was met with your drenched panties.

“Look at that mess darling, you got this wet just for me?” he caressed your face again, helping you lay underneath him as he moved further down to your lower area, delicately peppering kisses along your stomach.

Inui’s hot breath fanned lightly over your clit “May i?” he questioned. “Yes Seishu.” you replied almost immediately, lifting your hips a little higher to allow easier access to your heat.

Inui’s hands spread your things, gripping onto them for support. His tongue licked a stripe between your folds, coating your cunt with his spit. “Mhm, just how i imagined.” Seishu continued to speak careless whispers into your cunt, his tongue twirling it’s way onto your throbbing clit ultimately forcing you to grind your hips on his face.

His tongue toyed with your bud, circling hearts as he pleasured your arousal. Inui slipped a finger into your entrance, slowly pushing it further before adding a second finger in to accommodate it. “Seishu! Fuck!” you cried out, moaning into you palm.

“Let me hear that voice of yours Y/N.” Inui encouraged you, his eyes staring from above your seeping cunt fingers pumping into you at an increasing speed. “Ngh! Seishu- i’m close!” your hand pushing his head further into your pussy.

Inui’s fingers padded against your sweet spot, curling in motion as he pumped them in and out of your cunt. His tongue continued licking your throbbing clit sucking onto it simultaneously. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna make me cum from that look on your face.” he moaned, fingers scissoring into you faster.

“Fuck~ Seishu- i’m-“ you were cut off by your own moans, legs shaking from the sudden orgasm as your wet slick spilled from your entrance. “Good girl.” Inui let out a hoarse whisper as he pulled his fingers out which glistened in the dim light covered from the tip of his finger to his knuckles in your own cum.

Inui stuck his digits into his mouth, sucking off every last drop of you. “You did so well for me angel, i’ve waited so long for this exact moment.” he exclaimed, hovering above your face before kissing you on the lips again.

“Seishu…i need more of you, right now.” you demanded, a hand palming the tent growing in his pants. Seishu picked you up, resulting in you straddling his lap on the sofa as he sat beneath you. You lifted your hips before quickly pulling down his shorts letting his cock immediately spring free.

Your eyes grew wide. You never expected Seishu to have such a pretty cock, nevermind larger than you’d have imagined. “Like what you see? Seem’s like you underestimated me darling.” he caressed your waist “Lift yourself up for a sec.” as he tapped the outer side of your thigh.

“Wait- wait…i’m on birth control.” you mentioned stopping Inui from getting a condom from the drawers. “You sure about this?” he smirked somewhat enjoying the fact he gets to fuck you raw the first time.

You nodded again, his tip begun toying against your wet folds before casually slipping the head into your dripping entrance. “Agh~ Fuck Seishu!” you let out a breathy moan, eventually taking the full length of his cock. “So tight, ngh- oh fuck.” Inui spoke, guttural whimpers releasing from the depths of his throat as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

His hands gripped your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he pulled you gently down onto him. You both adjusted to the position, flashing Seishu a look of encouragement as he slowly started to bounce you on his cock, his hips slightly lifting along with yours.

“You like that yeah? Look at those pretty tits.” he mewled as he buried his face onto one of your exposed breasts, tongue ravaging your perky nipples. “Faster- please.” your hand finding its way to the back of his neck.

Inui bucked his hips into you, bouncing you faster onto his rock hard cock. The smacks of your ass echoed throughout the room as they collided with Seishu’s thighs, your tits bouncing along with every movement as Inui pounded further into your cunt. He quickened his pace again, this time you begun grinding faster matching with his speed in which your legs almost turned to jelly from the fastened movements.

“G’na cum so quick baby~.” you whined, dragging out his pet name whilst throwing your head back as he plowed into your pussy. The adrenaline mixed with arousal was too much, your eyes beginning to roll back from the way Seishu’s tip prodded against your g-spot like he was a miner digging for gold.

Seishu kept a firm grip on your ass, still pounding into you as he continued sucking on your tits giving each one equal attention. “Need- agh- your cum on my cock darling.” manoeuvring his hand to your pulsating clit as he thumbed your nub generously. “Yes ngh~ want you so bad Seishu, want your cum inside me.” you choked out, drawing out your moans from the stimulation his cock was causing as he abused your sex.

Inui flipped you over, cock still fucking your tight cunt as you lay on your back, legs wrapping around his waist. “I’ll fuckin’ give it to you Angel, fill- agh- you up with my cum real good.” he cooed, voice almost gravelly from his own moaning.

He smacked his hips against your ass, cock slipping from your hole a few times. “Wettest cunt I've had.” Inui quipped. “The only cunt you’ll ever have from now.” you sent another remark back. 

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

His fingers padded against your clit, vigorously rubbing against it paying close attention to the nub. “Shit- g’na cum gorgeous.” Inui let out another guttural moan “Let’s- cum together.” he ordered you, quickly intertwining your fingers with his as he took your hand. 

Seishu somehow gathered his stamina letting out a few final hard thrusts along with you bucking into him, your walls gradually spasming around his cock. “Agh- Fuck~” you simultaneously croaked, Inui came inside your cunt. Your wet slick spilled all over his cock along with your insides overflowing with Seishu’s seed.

A slow and steady pace allowed you to both ride out your highs, Seishu caressed your cheek removing your hair stuck to your face. “My god you’re gorgeous Y/N.” he pulled himself out, the mess inside leisurely spilling from your entrance.

“Hold on Angel, I'll clean you up.” Seishu grabbed a rag from the washroom, helping you gently as he tided the mess. He came back in his nightwear, seemingly grabbed a shirt that was his which he placed over your head, covering your exposed body just before he lay beside you on the sofa. 

Inui held you tight against him, wrapping his arms around your figure. He knew how to make you feel safe and extremely comfortable, only two of the things on your never ending list of praise for him.

After a short lived moment of silence, you exhaled out a tired sigh “Seishu...I think I lo-”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You jolted. Almost speechless at his sudden confession, dumbfounded even, burying your face away from his vision once again “No fair, I was gonna say it first.” you complained, lightly pushing his chest. “I wanted to be the first to say it-” he reassured your complaints “I was just looking for the right time.”

“Crazy how it was after you fucked me, eh?” shooting a cheeky wink towards his face. “Yeah right it was a spur of the moment, you were about to say it too.” he spoke in defence, giving you a kiss on the forehead as an apology.

“Not sure why I waited so long, I guess I was just afraid of hurting you.” his answer was sincere, stroking your hair tenderly “I really do love you Y/N-”

“Not to mention how my head no longer hurts, all thanks to you.” Inui gloated.

You sighed, probably in relief after realising the love you shared for him wasn't just some one sided waste for all these years. “I love you too Seishu-” you replied.

“...always and forever.”

[rezzyromance]

Reader giving Karl the silent treatment because he was an angry asshole + upset her.

It drives him insane + makes him realise how much he cares.

He tries soo hard + so many ways to get reader to speak to him again but she is stubborn + pissed.

In his frustration he trips over something/misses the chair and lands on his ass. Reader tries her best not to laugh at him and break her silence but fails miserably.

He’s about to explode + gets mad as hell until he sees her trying not to laugh.

Guess he has to punish her for laughing + ignoring him all day 😈😈

This is one of the best prompts ever.

"Karl, you promised you wouldn't be busy today!", you were frustrated at the sudden news. Karl had been working nonstop recently, leaving no time for you. You had felt neglected, so he told you that there would be a day soon where he'd be able to have some free time for the both of you. Now, the day has come and he's still working. He groaned as he sat at his cluttered desk. "Look, something unexpected happened and if I don't fix it now then it'll be the only thing on my mind." "Oh, I get it. Your work must be SO much more important than me, huh?", you crossed your arms angrily. "Actually, it is at the moment. If you really wanna spend some time with me and stop being a bitch, then you can shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can get this shit over with!", he yelled. His words stung. There wasn't any real meaning to them. He was just frustrated and put his mouth before his brain.

You stood there, seething with rage. If he wanted you to be quiet, then that's exactly what you'll give him. You leave the room, slamming the door on the way out. "Tch.", he rolls his eyes and begins to look over the notes of his new creation in attempts to figure out where he went wrong. It was hard to concentrate on the words, but he couldn't tell why. "Damn she's really mad.... she'll be fine in a few minutes...", he brushes it off and continues to work.

Meanwhile, you're quietly going on with your day. You had planned every detail for today, even your outfit, and he ruined it. "He doesn't deserve the day I planned.", you huffed to yourself.

A few hours passed and he had no work done. He couldn't concentrate due to a feeling of guilt clouding his mind. "She was really excited about today. It's not my fault though! She should know how important my work is even though I promised her I wouldn't be doing anything today.", he thought to himself. He realized how absurd the words were. "Goddammit", he grunts and slams his notes shut. He never realized how much he cared about her until he realized the impact he has on her emotions. She was pissed because she was expecting something from him and he let her down. He leans his head back and sighs. He knew what he had to do. He stood up from his desk and began to go looking for her.

You were in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. The door opens and you refuse to look over, knowing it's him. "Hey.", he stands there awkwardly for a second and begins to walk over. You say nothing. "Look, I get you're probably mad at me..", he tried to think of ways to apologize without actually saying sorry. He still had an ego to protect. "Let's pretend that nothing happened. I put the work down for today and I promise to dedicate today to you." You give no response. You don't even look in his direction.

He grows frustrated with your silence. "Are you listening? I said let's just pretend this didn't happen.", he places a hand on your shoulder and you pull away, still not looking at him or saying anything. His patience begins to thin again and he can feel the frustration rising in him again. "I shouldn't have called you a bitch. Is that what you wanted me to say?", his tone grew aggressive again. The only reaction you give is an eyeroll. This pisses him off worse.

You get up from the bed and begin to walk away. "I'm fucking talking to you!", he grabs your wrist and you pull away once again. "Fine. Fine! I tried!", he acted as if he had given up, but he continued to follow you. All he wanted was to make things right, he just had no clue how. Whenever he makes someone mad, he usually gets some pleasure out of it. He's never had anyone in his life that he wanted to make happy, so he's completely lost in all of his feelings.

You keep walking around the factory, trying to get him off of your ass. But he's persistent. He's following you, spouting random bullshit. He's trying to sound sorry, but his tone and aggressiveness is ruining it. Now, you're almost playing a game to see how long he'll keep this up. You're back in the office where it all started.

"Oh, is this a sign you want me to work? Huh? HUH?! Fine!", he throws his hands up and marches back over to his desk. "I wanted to work anyway!", he lowered his body down to sit in his chair but missed completely. You turned around, not wanting him to see the smile that grew across your face. You covered your mouth and nose to try and hide the laughter that wanted to erupt. Tears formed in your eyes as you continued to stifle any laughter.

Meanwhile, Karl was boiling with rage and embarassment. He quickly stood up from the ground and dusted himself off. "GODDAMMIT!", he kicks his chair, knocking it over. His temper tantrum threatens your laughter even more. He looked over and saw that your back was still facing him. He had reached his limit. He stomps over towards you and freezes once he notices something. Your shoulders were bouncing and he could quietly hear muffled laughter. "Are you fucking laughing at me?" You nod and can't help but let it out. You laugh harder and harder, unable to catch your breath.

He stared at you, confused about his feelings. He was still embarrassed, and a little mad that you were laughing at him, but it felt great to see you smile so big and laugh so hard. He was afraid you'd never smile again after how much of a dick he was.

"Okay it wasn't THAT funny.", he crosses his arms and tries to hide his own laughter. You were so giddy and couldn't even talk due to your laughter. "Yes it was!", you manage to say in between a few exhausted laughs. "You give me the silent treatment and then you laugh at me. Real fucking classy.", he places an arm on your shoulder and pulls you close to him. You don't fight it, which makes him feel better. "I'm not sorry.", you say once you're finally done laughing. "Yeah? Well you will be." He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder and carries you out of the room.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

A Wall and a Hard Place

Prompt: Sex standing up/against a wall

Relationship: Eskel/Jaskier

Rating: E

Warnings: none, just smut here

Summary: After Jaskier narrowly escapes a sticky situation, Eskel is furious with his lover for his reckless behavior. They blow off steam in the only way they can while hiding in a narrow alley from some Eternal Fire guards.

A quick little PWP for @whataboutthebard. Can be read below or on AO3!

***

In the years Jaskier has known Eskel, he’s never seen the witcher truly angry. Frequently exasperated, most often with his brothers. Irritated when people won’t pay him his due. Disgusted when a town bands together to protect the young man who has left a string of wraiths haunting the woods or when a lord’s negligence gets his own people killed. But Jaskier has never seen this seething, thin-lipped rage on his lover’s face before. Eskel has not said a word since he found Jaskier in the tiny dungeon, awaiting an undoubtedly unpleasant fate.

(The anger may be working a bit more for Jaskier than it should, not that he’s ever going to admit that.)

“I had it handled, my love,” Jaskier tells him softly.

“They were building a pyre when I got there,” Eskel says through gritted teeth. “If I’d gotten there an hour later, you’d be burned to ash.”

Jaskier grimaces. He’s had the misfortune of witnessing several of the Eternal Fire’s executions. It’s not a pleasant end. “Well, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“I shouldn’t have had to, Jaskier.” Eskel turns to face him, eyes blazing. “What the fuck were you thinking, pissing off the Eternal Fire?”

“It was all in the service of the greater good.”

“The Redanian Secret Service, you mean.”

“In this case, the same thing. Dijkstra wants to stop the Eternal Fire's influence from spreading to the rest of Redania. You have to admit that’s a worthy goal.”

“Keeping you alive is a worthy goal.” Eskel stiffens, gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, before he grabs Jaskier by the wrist and drags him into the narrow alley between two buildings. The space is hardly wide enough for the two of them to fit, so they’re pressed together chest to chest, with Jaskier's shoulder blades digging into the brick wall behind him.

“You had to know how dangerous this was,” Eskel growls. Jaskier can feel his breath coming fast and hard.

“No more dangerous than you battling wyverns and katakans,” Jaskier says archly.

“I’m a witcher. You’re a…”

“A spy.”

“A bard who does spy work on the side.”

“I resent—”

Eskel presses his weight against Jaskier, slapping a hand over his mouth. From the street, Jaskier can hear raised voices, undoubtedly the search party that’s probably scouring the city for the escaped heretic now. Jaskier can feel the gentle curve of Eskel’s stomach pressed against him, the strength of the arms caging him in, the thickness of the thigh slipped in between his legs. Despite the tension vibrating in between them— or maybe because of it— Jaskier can feel his body responding.

Eskel huffs. “Really, songbird?”

Oh, so Jaskier is back to being songbird. That’s a good sign. He shifts so Eskel will be able to feel the growing bulge of his erection pressed against his thigh and is rewarded with a soft groan.

Eskel withdraws his hand from over Jaskier’s mouth.”You could have died.”

“You were never going to let that happen,” Jaskier whispers.

"What if I hadn't made it in time?"

Jaskier lets his lips brush the scarred corner of his witcher's mouth."I knew you would, my love."

Eskel makes a soft, pained noise and kisses him like he never has before in the time they’ve been lovers, like he’s trying to devour him. Jaskier can’t move, pinned entirely against the wall by the bulk of Eskel’s body. He’s always been aware of how large Eskel is— it’s impossible not to notice— but Eskel usually takes pains to be almost excruciatingly gentle with his songbird. There’s nothing gentle about the way Eskel is kissing him right now or the way his hands fumble as the laces on Jaskier’s breeches.

“Oh, gods, Eskel,” Jaskier breathes, so desperately hard that he thinks he might burst from it. “The Eternal Fire didn’t kill me, so you’re going to try to?”

Eskel growls in response, shoving Jaskier’s breeches down. Jaskier would normally protest his fine breeches touching the filthy ground, but he’s distracted by the way Eskel is kissing his way down his body.

“You think,” the witcher says against Jaskier’s chest, mouthing at his nipple through the thin fabric of his chemise. “That just because you’ve gotten lucky so many times, that you’ll keep getting lucky. That me or Geralt or Yennefer or Lambert will always be there to save you. But someday, we won’t be.”

“Fuck,” is Jaskier’s eloquent reply as sharp teeth nip at his belly through his chemise. “Fuck, Eskel.”

“What do you think it would have done to me, if I found you dead?” Eskel demands. “If I had gotten to you too late, found you either burning or already burned? What do you think it would have done to Geralt if I had to tell him his best friend was dead?”

“Eskel—”

But Eskel drops to his knees, digging his fingers into the meat of Jaskier’s thighs hard enough to bruise. He would normally tease Jaskier, nuzzling and licking until the bard was a begging mess. Tonight, he just takes Jaskier’s entire prick in his mouth, enveloping it in glorious heat. Jaskier shoves his fist into his mouth to stop himself from shouting in surprise and pleasure. He wants to thrust into the heat of Eskel’s mouth, to do something but stand here and take it, but Eskel’s grip is implacable. Jaskier can only squirm and whine against his fist.

There’s a shuffle at the end of the alleyway and Jaskier yelps at the sight of an Eternal Fire guard appearing. The young man gapes at the scene in front of him.

Eskel pulls off Jaskier’s cock with an obscene pop and casts Axii. “Fuck off,” he growls.

The lad’s face goes slack and he turns and flees into the night.

Jaskier laughs. “Well, that’s one way to do it, my— oh, shit.”

Because Eskel is back to sucking his cock as if there was no interruption at all. His hands slide back to cup Jaskier’s ass, pulling him closer. Jaskier would probably lose his balance, if Eskel weren’t holding him up. Eskel would never let him fall. He’s going to have bruises on his ass, Jaskier realizes, just like his thighs. Marks on his skin in the shape of his love’s fingers, which will last for days, if not longer, even after he and Eskel part ways. The thought is almost as hot as the slide of Eskel’s lips and tongue over his shaft.

“I’m going to come,” Jaskier whispers and Eskel’s grip on his ass only tightens.

Jaskier muffles his shout against his forearm as he comes. He’s barely finished when Eskel surges to his feet. Jaskier almost does lose his balance at that, but Eskel pushes him back against the wall, kissing him again. Jaskier can taste his own salty spend on Eskel’s lips and he lets out a little whimper. When he feels the press of Eskel’s own cock against his inner thigh, he presses his legs close together.

Eskel thrusts into the space between Jaskier’s legs, his way slicked by spit and Jaskier’s own spend. He presses kisses and bites against Jaskier’s lips, throat, and chest the entire time, seemingly desperate to taste as much of his lover’s skin as he can. Jaskier is normally an active participant in lovemaking, leaving love bites of his own decorating his partners’ skin, but he can do little but fist his hands in the front of Eskel’s armor and hang on for the ride as Eskel furiously fucks into his thighs.

Eskel lets out a long groan as Jaskier feels his spend splatter the soft skin of his thighs and balls. The witcher collapses against Jaskier, burying his face into the crook of his neck. All the ferocious energy seems to drain out of him all at once. Jaskier presses a kiss to the top of his head, looping his arms around Eskel’s waist to hold him closer.

“Please don’t make me lose you, songbird,” Eskel says, sounding suddenly very tired. “It would kill me.”

Jaskier is surprised by the sudden heat that prickles the corner of his eyes. He cuddles closer to his witcher. “I won’t, my love. I promise you that.” He’s quiet for a minute. “Though if you want me to keep that promise, we should probably get out of the city. Quickly.”

Eskel huffs a laugh and steps back to buckle his breeches. “You’re probably right. I can only Axii so many guards before they start to catch on.”

“And I want to get you into a bed as soon as possible.”

“That all you’re thinking about right now?”

Jaskier arches an eyebrow as he pulls up his own breeches. “One of us just went down on the other while being pursued by city guards and for once, it wasn’t me.”

“Guess you’ve got a point.” Eskel reaches out and laces his fingers through Jaskier’s. “Come on, songbird, let’s get out of here.”

And together, they slip into the night.

***

[oonajaeadira]

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.” 

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one. 

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing. 

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night. 

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there. 

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself. 

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.” 

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him. 

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm-- 

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

[tanzmajor]

when i'm alone (i'd rather be with you)

fandom: spider-man (raimi verse)

pairing: tobey!peter parker/reader

summary: peter gets injured after a night of being spider-man and you fix him up. like always.

warnings: slight suggestive themes towards the end, injuries

word count: 1.9k

find this fic on ao3 here.

authors note: this is dedicated to my friend @spitbruise <3 wrote this bc there's rarely any tobey peter fics! can be read with any peter in mind. GATOR NEEDS HER GAS

“Seriously, Y/N, I just need to –“

Your hand remains on his shoulder when he sits down on his bed – a groan leaving him that’s muffled by his mask as he stops trying to explain himself to you.

He clutches a hand over his side, a slight bend to his demeanor as you assume he’d probably been hit there with something hard. You don’t see blood anywhere, or any skin exposed – so he’s probably going to live. You’ll just take care of him like always.

“Are you okay?“

You ask him, your hand wandering from his shoulder as you kneel in front of him and rest both of your hands on his bent knees. The bed is low enough that you have a nice view of his covered face in front of you. He nods at you but doesn’t say anything. You shoot him a slight smile, your thumb dragging loosely over the textured red fabric covering his legs.

“Do you trust me?”

You’re not sure why you ask him that. Of course he trusts you. At least you hope he does – but judging from the fact that you’re in Spider-Man’s apartment you probably mean at least a little bit more to him than you think you do. You lean back to rest on the calves of your legs underneath you.

“I do.”

He says, quieter than he intends, unsure about what you mean – but when you trail your fingers up his arm that’s resting on his thigh – he understands your question.

Your fingers reach the seam of where the mask rests over the collar of his suit. The texture feels odd – ribbon-like almost and you turn your hand to press your fingers under the fabric to slowly peel it off.

First over the curve of his neck – and as you’re about to reach the beginning of his cheekbones his hand takes a hold of your wrist. He’s hesitating, even if he doesn’t want to. It’s become so natural for him to hide who is underneath the costume – that he doesn’t even make an exception for you.

You stop your movements and wait for him to drop his hand again so that you can take the mask off further. You’ve always had a thing for Peter – and taking in every part of his face like this gave you a whole lot of other reasons to appreciate him for. The moment wasn’t as gentle as you had always hoped it would be – you’re nervous, and he’s nervous – almost as if Peter Parker wasn’t Spider-Man after all.

Maybe you should just rip the band-aid off.

And so you do. You take your other hand to help you take off the mask completely – carefully freeing his face from the red fabric as you reveal Peter Parker staring at you just like always. You place the mask next to him on the bed as you let your elbows rest on his thighs.

He looks pretty fucked up – a nice bruise right on his left cheekbone, a cut above his eyebrow, and a few scratches here and there that need some cleaning. Nothing he won’t survive. One of your hands wanders up to grab a hold of his chin, to tilt him in a direction that lets you take a better look.

“What’s it look like, Doc?”

He asks you weakly, expression slightly tinging of pain before a smile forms on his tired face as you muster him. You return the smile, and you move your hand from his chin to stroke your hand through his tousled hair.

“You’ll be fine, Parker.”

You flatten your palms on his thighs as you push yourself up from your position in front of him. You vaguely remember where he keeps the jokingly small box that he calls a first-aid kit, and try to find it again in the mess that is his apartment. He watches you as you move around, opting to just lean back into the comfort that his horribly uncomfortable bed was able to give him.

When you walk over to him again, his eyes are closed and his hand is still holding his side. You’ll have to ask him to get out of the costume to inspect that, but you’re not sure how to phrase that yet so instead, you’ll just stick to poking around in his face first.

You nudge his bend knee with your foot and he looks at you again, pushing himself up slowly so that you were able to get a hold of his face again. You sit down next to him, opening the small box to ensure everything you need is in there. You opt to first take care of the cut that was above his brow – taking a cotton swap in your hand and getting some disinfectant on it.

You push a strand of stray hair out of his face, and start cleaning the wound. He hisses when the cotton swap touches the skin.

“What even happened?”

He hesitates when you dig a bit too hard at the wound, and then answers you.

“Ah, fuck – uh – someone threw a car at me.”

You let the statement linger in the room, almost as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He has that typical Peter Parker smile on his face again. The one where you know he’s trying to mask whatever emotion he’s currently feeling.

“You can laugh. It’s alright.”

You look him in the eyes again at that and crack a smile at him that matches his. You shake your head and press the cotton swap to the wound one last time before applying a closure to it to make sure it heals correctly.

“Do you know why they did that?”

“I was getting on his nerves.”

You laugh at that.

“You do have a knack for that.”

You move on to clean up the other scratches on his face – luckily there wasn’t anything just as gnarly as the cut above his eyebrow. As you said – he’ll be fine. The thing that concerned you the most was his ribcage – he kept holding it, but it didn’t seem like he had any trouble breathing.

“I should probably take a look at… that.”

You nod towards his hand pressed against his ribcage.

“Uh-uh.”

“You need to take off the suit for that one.”

“Oh.”

He says and the statement floats in his head for a second. He’s not about to get out of the suit in front of you – he’ll spare himself the humiliation of you knowing that he gets stuck in that thing just a little bit too often than he actually should. So he pushes your hands away and stands up carefully.

“I’ll be right back.”

And then he disappears, not so gracefully and with a slight limp, into his bathroom, leaving you behind as you wonder what has suddenly gotten into him. It was only when you hear the faint shuffling of fabric that you realize what he’s doing.

He comes back out a moment later, in nothing but his boxers as he struggles to find a pair of sweatpants in his closet.

“You need some help, Parker?”

You say as you still sit on his bed, waiting up on him. He turns his head to quickly look at you.

“Yeah! No I mean – uh, I’m fine I just need to, yeah, hang on.”

He stumbles over his words. He hadn’t been listening to you. You furrow your brows as you watch him struggle to open the lower drawer of his wooden closet.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so you had a nice view of the slowly forming bruise on his ribcage. It tints his skin a rich red – and you know that within a day or two it will cycle from purple to green to yellow – until it’s gone.

He is lucky that he can take a hit just a bit better than most people.

“Can you breathe with that?”

“Yeah.”

He pries out a pair of grey sweatpants and quickly puts them on – a little too quick because he winces as he leans down to push them up over his legs. Once he’s done and semi unsuccessfully dressed – he wanders back over to you.

You’ve got that attentive look on your face again, the one that makes him feel like an open book in front of you, and you reach out a hand to meet his. He sits down again, and you pull up his arm so you can watch him move. It’s just a contusion.

“You should see an actual doctor if it’s not gone by the end of the week.”

“I will.”

You gave him a pointed look as you let his hand slip out of your grasp.

“I promise.”

He adds, trying to get the point across a little more convincing this time. He watches your eyes roam across his chest – but he doesn’t feel exposed. You’re looking out for him. You hum and are content with your work – he’s still banged up for sure, but for right now you’re done with playing nurse for him. There’s nothing else you can do for him. He gives you a fake smile when you catch his gaze for too long.

You gather the supplies from the little first-aid box and place them back into it. Once you were finished with your work, you dust off your hands and turn back to him.

“Do you want me to kiss your boo-boos for good luck, Parker?”

You joke – but something changes in the air. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and lips for a moment, your intent shifts from caring about him to doing something else to him.

“You’d do that for me?”

You roll your eyes and stand up, trying to leave the moment before you do something stupid, but he catches your wrist with his hand and keeps you in place. You look down at him.

“Thank you for always being so good to me, Y/N.”

He says to you – and there’s something else that he wants to get out, but he swallows the words before they can even form on his tongue. He assumes it’s better this way, to keep walking that fine line between just being a friend and being something else entirely.

“Don’t mention it, Peter.”

You say and he feels something break in him. He doesn’t want your rejection, and he also doesn’t want either of you to get hurt. Making things unnecessarily difficult was another talent of his – but he couldn’t fuck it up with you. Losing you would be the thing that just might topple him over the edge of insanity.

But these moments – they keep piling up. He remembers every single one of them so well. Because you’re always there for him. It’s always been just you and him. He realizes that now.

“Just please be more careful.”

You say and his hand is still wrapped around your wrist, your expression softens at him. He isn’t sure just how messed up he looks, or if his hair is sitting right – and even the pain that he was in doesn’t seem to matter all that much anymore because right now the only thing he’s concentrating on is you.

You tilt your head at him, and finally – he pulls you back in a way that makes you almost stumble into him, as his other hand gets a hold of your face and pulls you in for a kiss.

[imagineaworlds]

Bunny and Baby -- Poly!BAU Team

(Edited version for a broader audience. You can check out the full version on @hotch-and-bunny)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, degradation, mild choking, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan,    switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 7645

Criminal Minds Discord Server

We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.

When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.

Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.

As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.

I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.

His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.

“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.

When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me. 

She was smirking. “Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making your punishment no-touch, like Y/N. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”

“No.” He stood back up.

Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”

She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too.

Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over to torture me. She pulled at my leash, choking me, tugging my head back somewhat. “Keep your eyes on Spence.”

My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch.

Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt.

“Fuck!”

Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster.

“Mistress, I’m close. Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.

I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it. 

“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “So greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”

I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but this just felt so different… so good…

“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”

I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going  to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”

Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, and my legs were still shaking. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.

“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness and cum. “Don’t they look so stupid?”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too. 

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

He stopped fucking with me and he instead went back to stroking his cock. “I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.

“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”

Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.

Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?” he questioned.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.”

“Good girl. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom then come back for water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.”

Emily got the cuffs off Spencer, and he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (6)

Class revenge. And mention of suicide.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 5)

------

Normal class day and most of the class was still together. This is set after the class’s trip to Gotham.

Alix and Chloe had transferred to another class or a different school. There were a few new students but they transferred out within a week, when they all had tried to point out Lila’s lies and the class picked on them on Lila’s behalf.

Class is still taught by Mme. Bustier.

She rolled-calls and somehow Marinette’s name was on there and she just absentmindedly read it.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng”

“Present.” A cheery voice said.

Goes to the next name before everyone froze and looked at the source of the voice which was where they exiled Marinette to before her ‘suicide’.

There she was. An older-looking Marinette who would look the same age as them as if she was still alive, her longer hair was in a high ponytail and her clothes were switched out from her usual pink to red and black and had a more mature look that was stylish instead of cute.

She wore her signature bright grin but the sight of it brought chills down everyone’s spines.

Lila thought that it was her curse kicking in and since she hadn't seen Marinette until then, fainted on the spot, thinking she was finally going to be killed.

“M-ma-marinette. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Older Marinette said with a confused face. “Oh. You mean why am I not late? First time for everything, I guess. I am not late today so Yay for me.” She giggles but everyone else thinks that it sounds terrifying.

“But this is impossible. You simply can’t be here.” Max said, “Odds of you still alive are zero.”

“Can’t I? I mean I woke up early and got here on time. What is impossible about me being early? I would normally be a zombie during the morning, Max but nice one.”

Some students checked their phones for akumas. Hawkmoth had mysteriously disappeared around Marinette’s death making a few rumours about Marinette being Hawkmoth floating around. (Lila was the first to suggest that as a theory.)

Mme Bustier cleared her throat, terrified out of her mind and scared that if she provoked the ‘ghost’ of her former star student, there would be consequences like the horror movies. But she was not going to let it hurt any of her students.

“Marinette, there must have been a misunderstanding. You should be home.”

“Why?’

“Because um...you are... you are sick and you don’t want to infect your fellow classmates, right?”

“Hm..I feel fine but now that you mention it, I feel a little dizzy. I think I am going to take the day off.”

The rest of the class murmured in agreement, scared not to offend the ‘ghost’. A few of the girls like Mylene had tears running down their cheeks. Horror movies logic dictates that you should not remind the ghost that they are dead or make them angry.

Juleka was half-scared out of her mind for Rose who was also crying and herself and also half-excited, even though Marinette might be a vengeful ghost, there is still a ghost in their classroom.

Mme Bustier started muttering prayers under her breath.

Marinette packed up her things and was out of her seat when Adrien came into the class.

He was held up because he started sneezing non-stop this morning. Turns out Natalie had some black feathers on her.

He sees Marinette in the back row.

“Ma-Marinette! How are you here?!” to which everyone in the class sans Lila who was still passed out, shushed at him.

Ignoring them, he blurted out, “You are dead.”

The word echoed through the classroom. It was silent for a moment and you could hear a pin drop.

“Dead? What do you mean dead?” Marinette took a step down the stairs, the perfect picture of confusion but her eyes seemed a little crazed and Adrien took a step back, the word ‘Traitor’ carved into his back started burning.

Everyone in their seats shifted slightly away from her. Some considered making a run for the door but they didn’t want to draw attention and face the ghost’s wrath. They all mimed at Adrien to stop.

He ignored them again. “Don’t pretend you are innocent. You did this to me. YOU MADE ME LOSE EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD. I DON’T REGRET KILLING YOU FOR THE HORRIBLE PERSON YOU ARE, LADYBUG. YOU DESERVED TO DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID.”

Realizing what he said, he covered his mouth, hoping it would somehow fix the damage he had done.

Marinette smirked. The picture of innocence gone.

It took a moment for what Adrien’s outburst meant to register in their heads.

Adrien, in an attempt to get back into their good graces, had once claimed to be Chat Noir, the ‘hero’ of Paris. They had brushed him off. If what he had said was correct then that meant that they drove Marinette who was Ladybug to kill herself. Horrible realization sets in as it meant that Hawkmoth won.

Lila chose that moment to came back to the land of the living to scream bloody murder once she saw Marinette again.

The scream brought everyone out of their trance from their shock and started screaming or yelling.

The windows slammed open and the wind whipped. The doors of the classroom closed shut with a loud bang. The clouds were dark outside and there were some flashes of lighting and thunder. (Thank you Longg.)

Marinette’s hair was undone and whipped around her. Her eyes were glowing blue. As she started laughing at the chaos she had unleashed, the class and Mme Bustier ducked for cover and hid under their desks. Except for Adrien and Lila.

Lila, fueled by anger, pounced at the ravenette but was thrown against the classroom wall before she even had a chance to lay a hand. Fell down and appeared to be knocked out. Alya made a move to check up on her.

Adrien was thrown back against the floor when the strong winds started. The scars on his back were burning with a lot of intensity now and it was a miracle that he still hasn’t passed out from the pain.

Unknown to him, the words were glowing red and seen through his shirt. Mme Bustier, Nino, Sabrina and Nathaniel were the few that saw the bright red letters spelling out ‘TRAITOR’ on Adrien’s back as he got back up.

“Marinette, this isn’t you. Milady, please.”

“Shut up.” She flicked her wrist, sending Adrien against the teacher’s desk. He hit it hard and was knocked out like Lila.

Alya after making sure that Lila was fine. “Marinette, stop this. I know that you are probably mad at Adrien for killing you but we never did anything to you.”

“Never did anything?! Never did anything? Hah. What about the time that you slapped me in the face in front of the entire school and said our friendship was over? You called me names. You said that I deserve every bruise you gave me. The rest of you weren’t any better.” She turned around and with the flick of her wrist, the heavy desks were in the air, robbing anyone of a hiding place.

“You stood by and allowed it to happen. You destroyed my stuff, claiming I deserve it. My sketchbook, filled with commissions, torn and stepped on like trash. You all crossed a line that Chloe didn’t even dare and you call it the right thing to do. Hypocrites all of you. Some of you have known me since l'école primaire. What was it about me that you believed her over me?! ”

What happened next was all a blur to everyone, there was a lot of screaming involved, some blood, lightning and thunder everywhere and then, black.

Nino opened his eyes to see Alya peacefully sleeping on her desk. What happened?...Oh Crap I fell asleep. The last thing I remember was….MARINETTE!

Nino snapped his head up. And saw the rest of the class and Mme. Bustier asleep in their respective places.

But there was a sense of wrongness. Something was off... and he can’t pinpoint on what.

The bell rang, startling everyone awake. Nino checked the time. And crap did they all sleep through the first period?! Turning towards his now-awake girlfriend, “Hey Alya, Alya, what do you remember?”

He was surprised to see red eyes like she had been crying. “I- I- I had the weirdest dream. Marinette was there, like she never died and she… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Don’t freak out but I don’t think it was a dream.”

On the rooftop, above the classroom, a red clad figure lounged at the edge with her airpods in and chuckling to herself.

-----

Marinette didn’t torture them. Scared the hell out of them, sure but it was harmless. Mostly. She left carved words on everyone’s wrists which no one else but the class can see. (This one is more mental than anything.)

The scars are unique depending on how close they were to Marinette before she died. Most of the class had the word ‘friend’ crossed out. FRIEND

Nino and Kim had Childhood friends. It serves as a painful reminder of how long they had known the girl.

Alya was a special case with BEST FRIEND and ‘A good reporter always checks her sources’ underneath it. She remembers saying those words to Marinette a long time ago, back when she thought she knew Marinette.

Mme Busitier had Best Teacher and when she was in the comfort of her own home, saw ‘Bully Enabler’ on her other wrist.

Adrien and Lila were questioned as they weren’t the only ones with scars on their wrists. (Although Lila had LIAR written in big letters across her forehead with a sharpie and a drawn-on-moustache of a cartoon villain.)

Nino managed to get the class to back off on Adrien and later to pull him aside to explain about the scars on his back and why did Ladybug (who was apparently Marinette this whole time and she was dead... he thinks.) called him ‘Traitor’?

Adrien told Nino everything. The curse didn’t interfere so for the first time in months, Adrien was able to say the truth.

-----

That was also the day that Lila’s reign finally ended.

The class had suspected for a while about her lies and false promises. There were a few inconsistencies in the beginning that were overlooked and brushed off as Lila’s memory problems.

They all had for the first two years had defended Lila against anyone (mainly Marinette) who thought she was a liar. Lila herself made sure that her lies were believable, actually putting in research for once in her life and planting evidence here and there about her achievements with a few faked articles. They staunchly believed her lies until Marinette’s death.

With her main enemy finally down and everyone else who opposed her, lost their morale along with their ally, Lila stopped putting in the efforts to make her lies seem real and then the cracks of her kingdom began forming.

At first, the students of Mme Bustier class believed them but the stories soon seemed like bragging but they were too polite to point it out to their ‘nice’ and ‘shy’ classmates.

Lila began making mistakes from her lack of research and a few of them later pointed out the few inconsistencies but they were brushed off as memory lapses.

More and more of these ‘memory lapses’ happened more often and soon, most of the class had their suspicion of Lila.

They were just in denial of Lila lying to them.

A few like Max, Nathaniel, Juleka and Sabrina who finally find out that Lila was lying and confront her about it were threatened and they were too afraid to do anything.

After all, Marinette had tried to disprove them and look where she is now. Six feet under.

And the ‘ghost attack’ from Marinette was the final straw.

The class tried to help Lila get rid of the sharpie, especially the one on her forehead and Alya made a comment how it was so typical of Marinette despite being dead and some half-heartedly agreeing.

Max, frustrated that his friends still can’t see it that Lila is a liar and they were the ones who drove Marinette to death that she is now haunting them and it was all their fault, took out his detailed research to disprove Lila’s lies. Nathaniel, Sabrina and Juleka spoke up and brought out their own research. The seeds of doubts which had been planted the past years were finally sprouting

A while later, the entire class was in chaos, everyone was shouting at Lila, some of them were shouting at Adrien, Alya being in complete denial and Mme. Bustier trying to maintain the peace.

Unknown to them, the camera in the classroom was being live streamed to a screen in a room in Le Grand Paris, complete with audio as a group of teenagers watched the chaos unfold.

“You know.” Chloe said, “I thought it was hilarious when you went all bloody mary on them but this shit is way more entertaining.”

Maria smiled, satisfaction on her face as she snatched some popcorn from Alix. “Oh, I had fun. Took years but Lila is finally getting what is coming to her. In about an hour, Signora Rossi is going to come through the door with the police.”

“What did you do, M?”

“Let’s just say the Italian Embassy and the French Police got an anonymous tip this morning about Lila Rossi and the incidents following her around the schools she had attended in the past couple of years.”

“No..” Alix gasped.

Maria just smirked.

-----

Gabriel was freaking out when Adrien came home and told him about what happened to his class.

He did not need another ghost attack on top of everything else.

First, Afterlife had managed to steal some (read: a lot) of Gabriel’s investors and Gabriel’s shares were plummeting.

Secondly, there were a few important documents leaked onto the internet, showing a few suspicious purchases which had the brand and himself under scrutiny.

Third, Natalie told him about her recent condition which occurs during the night and raised a few suspicious glances from Emilie when there was a raven in the house while Gabriel wanted to see proof of this transformation.

Lastly, Emilie had been poking around about the years she was in her coma and it was sheer luck that she hadn't found out about Hawkmoth and connected the dots.

He called up John again to complain that it didn’t work and asked for a refund or face a lawsuit. John pointed out that the spell only worked in the house and kept ghosts out of it and other places were free game.

Needless to say, Gabriel pulled Adrien out of school to be homeschooled again and made sure Emilie stayed inside, no matter what.

The longer Natalie stayed as a raven, the whiter Gabriel’s head of hair became and he was beginning to lose hair at a very fast rate.

----

(Part 7)

I swear I didn't mean to forget tagging you guys.

Taglist: @local-witch-of-mn, @ladyqnoirr, @lolieg, @istoleyourcookies

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hmmm can vampires get sick? maybe sick vampire chris thinking Jake is gonna pull out or file down his fangs? or just thinking Jake’s gonna hurt him?

CW: Sick whumpee, vampire whumpee, blood drinking, vague implications of past sadistic/creepy whumper, dehumanization, vague tooth/mouth whump (nothing direct, but aftermath)

Sort of a sequel to this piece, part of the Vampire Chris AU

"What hurts?" He keeps his voice low, and carefully doesn't hesitate before he lays a hand over the vampire's forehead. Of course it feels lukewarm, room temperature, but he still goes through the motions of feeling for a fever. It's muscle-memory, instinct, and he keeps forgetting Chris is dead.

He has been dead for a long time, if his occasional comments on what sounds like Prohibition are true.

"Bones," Chris whimpers, twisting where he lays in Jake's bed. There's a bright flush in his cheeks from the blood he'd drained from the two men who broke into the house. Those odd eyes glitter, overbright. "My... m'bones hurt, Jake."

His mouth opens, pulling air in over his tongue and down his throat in soft pants, and Jake is reminded that vampires don't sweat. Not the same way, anyway, although with enough blood they can, in thin sheens of pink-tinged liquid that are even more alarming than their tears.

His fangs are visible this way, razor-sharp canines that come down further than the rest of his teeth, a brighter white than all the others from being pulled and regrowing so many times.

Jake swallows against his nervousness, brushing hair away from the vampire's forehead. His slit pupils are dilated, taking up too much of the iris, and he tells himself that Chris is as scared as he is of the instincts that drive him, barely understands them.

Vampires aren't animals - but when they don't understand themselves, they act like it sometimes.

"Do you think maybe those guys were on something? Like, a drug maybe?" He pets through Chris's hair, fingercombing his hair, and watches Chris's eyes flutter closed.

It's hard not to feel more than a little reassured not having to look at them any longer. Which makes him feel guilty, considering this not-a-kid kid just beat up people for hurting him.

Killed them, his brain whispers. Killed them like he could kill you.

"May, maybe," Chris mumbles, and pants again.

His gums seem oddly dark, where normally they're pale, and Jake frowns. He wishes now he knew more about vampire physiology, that he'd paid more attention in class when they took the safety courses on how to avoid them.

There's not exactly a class on caring for one - not unless you can afford to purchase them outright.

"Well, when you were-... uh, before you found us... did you ever feel like this?"

Chris's eyes blink slowly back open and he nods. "Sometimes. My, my, my, my-... someone would, um, take something before, before the party, and I'd..." He groans and shudders. Jake can see the pain move through his body as he trembles nearly violently. "I'd feel like, like, like this after... for hours..."

"Okay. So... probably you just have to let this get worked out of your system, right? Or... is there a medicine?"

"No... just... just drink more." Chris looks up at him, eyes so wide and sad and scared and hurting, and grabs onto his wrist with one hand. Those cool fingers are never not a little startling, colder than the air around them, than the rest of his body.

Vampires have poor circulation, Jake knows, even when they're filled up on a fresh meal. He's seen Chris heal his own wounds before with his tongue, had him explain that they don't heal on their own with time if they're on hands or feet.

"Chris-"

"You, you, you, you-... can, um, you can take my teeth after. You can. I'll hold still. I'll, I'll be good." Chris's plea is barely a whisper.

His nails, which must have been a little too long when he was killed and turned, dig painfully into Jake's wrist in his desperation.

"I'll be so, so, so so so so good, Jake. So good for you, and then, you can, you you you can take my teeth-... Sir always liked it, it makes me me me cry, we we cry blood, Sir liked to take photos of it-"

"Sssshhhh. Hush, Chris." Jake's mind races. There are others in the house, but-... he can't ask them to give up blood to Chris. They've already taken over cleaning the blood up from the hardwood floor. Nat's already dealt with talking to the cops and the EMTs and the coroner before the bodies were taken away. They already handled hiding Chris in a false-backed closet while Jake was interviewed by police officers who looked interested and excited,, not disturbed.

It's not every day you see a vampire attack, after all.

Mostly they're under control, kept on leashes and muzzled like dangerous dogs, the property of rich celebrities looking for novelty in a world where they already have everything. The few ferals are killed pretty fast.

Or so everyone says.

Jake is starting to wonder if there are more vampires out there than he knows about.

The cops had even insisted on checking the attic, as if Chris was a bat they might find hanging upside down. That had been ridiculous, but it's not like Jake could say he knew better without being asked how he knew so much about them in the first place.

Oh, because we keep one like a stray fucking puppy. That wouldn't go over well.

He feels a little woozy from the adrenaline crash, and still aches from the bruised ribs where he was kicked around. His mouth aches from the duct tape they'd put over it, and he'd got a hell of a rash starting around his wrists. He's so exhausted he might collapse.

But... Chris really did show up right on time, and maybe saved his life.

Chris pulls Jake's wrist to his face, nuzzles into the inside of it against the pale blue veins that show through the thin skin. Jake shudders at the feeling, swallowing back a low-level disgust.

He wonders how old the teenager really is - he wonders that all the time.

"You c-can have my teeth, after," Chris whispers, lips moving against Jake's skin. "You can keep them. Sir used to, to, to keep them in a box and show m-me. Just, please, please help me feel better, Jake, please... It won't hurt."

Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "If it'll help... fine. But I'm not taking your teeth. They're yours."

"Thank you," Chris breathes out. "That's, that's, that's okay. I can still fix it for you. Thank you, Jake." His fangs slip back into Jake's skin as easily as a heated knife through warm butter.

The venom hits his bloodstream before the pain hits his nerves, and Jake feels himself slump over, head falling onto Chris's shoulder as all his limbs go dead.

It almost feels good, as his ribs stop aching, and the bruises stop throbbing on his skin. He can see why rich people love it as a party drug. You could drift in this place of perfect no-pain for a long, long time.

He feels only the wet movement of Chris's tongue, the shift of his fangs, the soft pressure of the other teeth pushing down. Chris purrs softly, drinking his blood like a kitten lapping milk.

It goes on and on, and for one terrifying second Jake thinks he's not going to stop until he's dead.

"Ch-... Chris-"

Those fangs slip suddenly out of his skin, the wet cool tongue licks rough over his wounds - closing them instantly.

The venom slowly fades, the aches and pains settling back into his body. Jake groans, feeling weak and exhausted.

Chris has to push him up off his shoulder, with unnatural strength moving him to lay on his side on the bed. Jake can barely keep his eyes open.

Chris, leaning over him, could rip his throat out and he couldn't even raise a hand to try and defend himself right now. Jake sees the body of the first dead robber behind his eyelids, the expression of horror written in eternal rictus in his expression, the blood down his shirt and puddled beneath him on the floor. The other man, fighting until he stopped, slumping until Chris had drained him to death.

"I feel better," Chris whispers, kneading at Jake's shirt briefly. "I, I, I feel so much better. Go to, um, go to sleep, Jake. I'll fix it so you're safe."

Jake can't even begin to understand what that means before he's already slid into something more like unconsciousness than actual sleep. The world around him simply goes black, and the last thing he feels is Chris pulling a blanket up to his chin.

The last thing he hears is those soft padding footsteps leaving the room.

When he wakes, he finds two fangs, pristine white with bloodied roots, sitting in a washcloth next to where his head lays on the pillow. he finds a pair of small pliers on the bathroom sink, with droplets of red around them.

The sun is shining outside the window, a bird singing loud enough to drive a drillbit into his head, and Chris is curled up asleep in the dark at the back of a closet, mouth slightly open.

Jake stares down at the empty spots where his fangs should be, and wonders if he's grateful, or horrified.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband

[popitdontdropitwrites]

"Insatiable" Medic/Sniper (Vampire AU) - Chapter 4

Chapters: 1, 2, 3,

There was only one option if he wanted to survive.

It took so much effort to force the words out of his throat. “Fine, I’ll be your damn blood bag.”

A giddy grin spread across Wilhelm’s face as soon as he heard the words. “Wonderful! Ah, I’m simply ecstatic that we could reach some form of agreement.” He said excitedly. “Now, allow me to get what I need to fix up that bite of yours. I will be just a moment.” He said as he rose to his feet. He walked into the house, leaving Robin to be alone with his thoughts. Regret swelled up in his guts, forming a pool of bile in his guts. Though he despised his decision, he knew full well that there was no other choice. He hoped Wilhelm would be true to his word and that this nightmare scenario could somehow be like an early retirement. He would be fed, clean, spoiled and provided with a life of luxury from within a prison, just like a princess or like a bride to a cruel king. Cruel wasn’t the right word… Wilhelm was more so uncomfortably considerate.

He returned, holding syringe with a swirling concoction the colour of a wilting lavender. He showed it to him as he walked as if it were a prize. He sat down on the mat, still smiling like an overjoyed idiot. “I prepared this yesterday just for you.” He said as he snatched Robin’s arm.

“What’s in it?” He asked, looking to the odd colour.

“I can’t tell you that! It’s a family secret so elusive that technically speaking, even I shouldn’t know about it.” He scolded as he searched for a healthy vein. “You’re lucky I have a mind curious enough to read my ancestor’s dull old journals in the library. If I didn’t, there would be no hope for you.”

“And… what’s this gonna do exactly?”

He tapped the glass of the syringe. “In short, this will equip your immune system to fight off the foreign pathogens in your system, being the agents that cause vampirism in humans.”

“…Right.” He needed a second to process that. He was happy as long as it cured him.

“Anyway, if all goes well, the swelling should go down by tomorrow and the mark will heal in a few days.”

“Great.” He said flatly, intimidated by what was going to come next.

“Come on, Robin… Smile! This is a good thing.” He reaffirmed. “We could have a little party, make this a celebration of sorts…” He said as the needle pierced the skin and the cure swam inside of his veins. Wilhelm dabbed a cotton ball to the fresh wound, cleaning up the blood. Wilhelm took in a deep, shuddery breath as he did so. “Gott, the scent is simply heavenly…” He muttered.

“Hungry already, mate?” He scoffed.

“It’s difficult not to be with a bleeding wound before my eyes.” He replied, eyes glued to the jab mark in question. “I must apologise for baring my fangs like this. My system is… misinterpreting all of this.” He covered his elongating fangs by putting a hand over his mouth.

“I mean you can’t help it, can ya?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it is quite rude.” He mumbled. “Why, it’s the equivalent of a dog slobbering all over the place at the sight of food!” He whined, refusing to further display his fangs out of embarrassment. He wondered if he would get used to being called ‘food’, as horrible as the idea was. Wilhelm let out a frustrated sound as his fangs refused to hide themselves. It brought him a little bit of pleasure to see such a conniving vampire get so upset over nothing. He dabbed at the wound once more and he smiled in relief when it stopped bleeding. He uncovered his mouth and like magic, the long canines had receded and gone back into hiding. “There we are.” He breathed out in satisfaction, touching the now squared teeth to make sure.

“Now that I’m not gonna turn, I gotta make a call.” He blurted, thinking of Jeremy. He figured that the kid was probably worried sick by now. He fished his phone from his pocket and went to make the call, only for the vampire to grab his wrist.

“Ah, I’m afraid I will have to confiscate your device. We can’t have you calling your hunter friends over, can we?” He prompted, insisting with an open hand.

“As if.” He snapped back. “It’s not like they can even put a dent in ya. Look at the last lot! They’ve been torn to ribbons. As far as I can tell there isn’t one bullet in ya.” He jabbed a finger into the bloke’s chest. “And what am I gonna do? Call ‘em and say ‘hey fellas, I’m a vampire’s pet now. I was wondering if ya kindly blow his brains out for me? Cheers!’ They’d sooner laugh their fuckin’ guts out than help me.” He put on a voice for it.

Wilhelm gave in. “Very well, you do make a compelling argument. You may call your friend but if more of your sort arrive to my doorstep, you will be in big trouble.” He warned. “And please, do not leave me waiting for long. There is so much to see and do!” He cooed excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

He called the Bostonian and was surprised when he immediately picked up. Normally he had to call twice or even three times. “G’day, mate.” He said, making himself sound calm when he was anything but to ease the kid’s worries.

“Heeeey…” He said, his voice still a little off. “I hate to say it, but I’ve been worried about’cha.”

“I’m real sorry for makin’ ya worry.” He said, rubbing his neck anxiously. He knew what had to be said but he dreaded it more than anything in the world. The last thing the kid needed was more stress in his life. “I jus’ wanted to ring and let you know that I’m okay. Wilhelm shoved a cure in me and reckons I’ll be dandy by tomorrow mornin’.” He saw the vampire’s eyes dart to him as he talked, attentive to the sound of his name.

“Oh, sweet!” He exclaimed in a mix of relief and excitement. “Why don’t’cha come over then for a game or something? I can get those beers you like as well and maybe some snacks, yeah?”

He knew it might come to this. “Look, mate… I can’t.” He swallowed drily. Those words sucked the life out of him. “I have to stay here.” He continued, feeling the words as if they were heavy stones on his tongue.

He could hear Jeremy punch something even over the phone. “WHAT!?” He yelled, confused, and outraged.

He kept himself under control and maintained his calm tone. The last thing he needed was for the bloke to start breaking things out of blind rage. “Jeremy…” He sighed out. “Don’t worry about it, okay? He isn’t gonna hurt me or nothin’. He’s uhm… lookin’ after me. There’s no need for ya to work yourself up about anythin’. I’m gonna be fine.”

“Why do you have to stay? That’s so fucked up. Like, why can’t you just go home?”

He was reluctant to say it, as it would piss Jeremy off to hell and back. But lying would only make things worse. He had to be honest. “I had to make a bargain with the guy. He wants my blood every so often and in return, I got a cure.” He said it softly, he didn’t want Wilhelm to eavesdrop any more than he already had.

“That’s a shit deal.” Jeremy groaned out disapprovingly. “Can I at least visit’cha or something?” He sounded desperate now.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to him about it.” He said, practically feeling Jeremy’s disappointment over the phone. “I’ll keep in touch though, I promise.”

“Okay, pal. Just try for me, I guess.” He mumbled, hearing his voice crack, on the very verge of breaking into a sob.

In his peripheral vision, Wilhelm tapped the glass of his watch. “…I have to go now.” Robin said before hanging up. He felt like cruel just leaving things like that, but he vowed to himself that he would make this work. Reluctantly, he handed over his device. He wondered if he would ever get to use it again.

Wilhelm looked to him with a joyous grin. “Would you like me to chaperone you to your room? I assume you would like to settle in a little bit before supper.”

“Your supper or mine?” He asked.

“Yours, of course.” He said as if it had been obvious. He dusted the dirt and grass off his pants in a prissy, graceful motion. “Come, come, I’ll show you to your room.” He outstretched his hand as an invitation. Looking at the talon-like nails were more than enough to put him off. Robin refused to take his hand and merely followed Wilhelm into the house. A servant passed them by to collect the rug and the bird food with little more than a small nod of acknowledgement. The vampire led him into the main room and up the lavish staircase. Distantly, he could hear the clank of pots, the clink of cutlery and the whirr of the oven. It wouldn’t be long until the delightful smells of dinner would radiate throughout the house, bringing water to his mouth and hunger to his belly.

“Damn, what’s cookin’?” He asked, listening to the cooks wander about in the kitchen.

“Hm, you talk as if I would know what your kind eat.” He jeered.

“Wait… ya don’t eat?” He physically halted, shocked by the statement. “Well… eat things other than blood I mean.”

“I thought it was obvious that I cannot eat as you do! I am designed to digest liquids, attempting to do the same with solids would be akin to poisoning myself!” He said, stunned that he had even asked.

“I’ve seen other vampires eat b’fore.” He countered, remembering a few jobs he’d done in restaurants and cafes.

“They are mostly human, I am not.” He reminded.

“Ya look human to me.” Robin replied. “I don’t know why you pretend you’re so different to ‘em when ya look jus’ the same.”

Wilhelm’s lips parted in shock and offense. “Unlike my impure blooded counterparts, this humanlike appearance is a mere illusion… a temporary rearrangement of flesh to bring you a little peace of mind. I look rather different. Very different, actually.”

“What do ya really look like then?”

“You wouldn’t like it.” Wilhelm said, opening the door for him and proudly gesturing to the room. A floorboard creaked under his shoe as he approached the room at the end of the hall. “This little slice of paradise is yours from this moment on.” He said as he walked over the windows and parted the curtains to let some light in. The air bore a stale, musty smell, as if this room was a vault, hidden away like an underground dungeon. He unclipped the lock and opened the windows completely, letting fresh air in. “So, what do you think?” He asked as Robin inspected the place.

Though the room was lavishly furnished and excessively showy, it still lacked warmth and personality. Thankfully, at the very least, it did appear comfortable. It had an almost royal bed, with thick blankets and soft pillows. A wooden, old-style shelf sat in front of the window, complete with a cup overflowing with different pencils of all varieties and colours, a needlessly expensive looking leather journal and a lone lamp with golden accents. His bedside table had a vintage alarm, with twin bells and an analogue clock. Surprisingly, the entire room lacked a speck of dust. It all seemed brand new and simultaneously old. The floorboards appeared to be polished, without scuff marks or scratches. He wondered if the place had ever been used.

“It’s nice.” He said, only partially meaning it. “Could use a bit of… personality… but otherwise it’s all well and good. As good as bein’ a prisoner can be, I s’pose.”

“You’ll change your mind after spending the night in this wonderful bed, I promise you.” The vampire proclaimed, eyes darting to the bedding. Wilhelm walked over to the wardrobe and opened it to reveal some shirts, jackets and otherwise neatly hanging in a line. “I organised some clean clothes for you. If you don’t like anything just leave it outside of your door and someone will return them.”

He inspected the tag of a flannel shirt. It was his size and in a style he quite liked. “How did you know what size I am?” He asked, a little creeped out.

“I pay attention to these sorts of things.” He replied, barely answering the question. “I hope you’re fond of these. I had to guess what you like.”

“I guess you’re my fuckin’ mum now.” He said sarcastically, mocking himself and the monster in front of him.

Wilhelm had a hearty laugh at that as if he had meant it as a light joke. “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I suppose you’re right!” He chuckled, almost out of breath. He paused to breathe. “But I would prefer it if you thought of me differently.”

“Like what? I mean, you’re feedin’ me, buyin’ me shit, givin’ me a place to sleep and fuckin’ hell, you’ve even got me stationery like I’m goin’ off to school. What else could ya be?”

“Why does it matter what I am?” He asked. “If it does matter to you, I suppose you could spend some time thinking about it. You do have a surplus of free time on your hands.” He said as he walked towards the door. “Have fun, yes?” He paused, remembering something. “Oh, and call for a servant if you need anything… or myself, of course.” Wilhelm offered a shy wave before he left.

“Keep dreamin’.” He said, rolling his eyes.

Robin took a moment to look out the window. He was pleasantly surprised by an expansive and rich view of the land. The garden looked about as pretty as a picture from high up, with vibrant colours and an unrivalled neatness about it. A few vampires loitered about in the garden and a handful patrolled the premises. He assumed they were to stop him from escaping or running away. Internally, that crossed another option off the list. There was no escaping this place, as they would likely drag him right back inside the gates. He looked longingly up to the sky, in search of hope. It had been turned into a blushing pink colour by the falling sun. He couldn’t help but admire it. He had a perfect view of the sunset, and he began to wonder if it was intentional on Wilhelm’s part. With how perfect this all was, he felt like a special guest in a palace. He was beginning to question if he was the only human in this manor. It was certainly possible with how hard Wilhelm was trying to please him.

Out of curiosity, he sat down on the bed. It was like sitting on feathers and the pillows too, were absolutely perfect. Perhaps Wilhelm wasn’t lying when he said he’d love it here. He would feel guilty for liking this place, as that would make him a happy prisoner. And that was just wrong, wasn’t it? How could he ever allow himself to enjoy a vampire’s hospitality?

He opened the nearby door and was pleasantly surprised with a bathroom linked to the bedroom. It was truly private and exclusive. There was a loo, a large bathtub by the wall and a shower beside it, sporting spotless glass walls and a curtain as if he would need it. Neatly placed on the sink were hygiene products and anything he could possibly think of for grooming and self care. A mirror sat above the sink and he had a curious peek at himself, noting how he looked healthier already. Though the bags still were heavy under his eyes and the whites of his eyes had turned a touch pink with irritation, the bite had gone down a little bit and was not nearly as horrid as it was earlier in the day. He washed his face and the refreshingly cool water cleansed him of both dirt and his worries.

He decided that it’d be best to explore the manor, to get his bearings and to busy himself. He took note of where his room was first and foremost and then he walked down the hallway. He peered over the railing on the upper floor and to the busy kitchen, where mindless drones worked over the stove. It was akin to watching an ant colony with how calculated and busy they were. It made him wonder where their queen had scurried off to.

Robin went into the room next to his out of a need to explore. He felt as if he were five again and adventuring in his grandparents’ country home. He often found himself longing for those quiet evenings with a dog in his lap and nanna busy in the kitchen with some sort of dessert. But this wasn’t quite the same, like a cheap imitation of something that could never be recaptured again.

In his dream from long ago, he nearly walked into a shelf. He halted at the last minute and bumped his nose against the wood. He stepped back and looked around, quickly realising that this was a storage room. He began to investigate. Cramped, overstocked rooms like these promised answers to many questions. He found little trinkets, old machinery, and spare pieces of furniture. He opened the draws and discovered only tattered receipts, wiring and hand tools. Behind the furniture he discovered old portraits of noble vampires, with a recognisable face in each. He opened a wardrobe and found a lone, ornamental box. He pried it open carefully and only felt more confusion arise when he saw the contents.

Laying on the little bed of fabric was a small bag of blood. Somehow, it was cool inside the box. He inspected the bag with a newfound interest. He soon realised that it was merely normal blood. It was labelled as type O. He wondered if this was for emergencies or the like. Perhaps Wilhelm had prepared it in case he refused to cooperate.

Speaking of, he still wasn’t sure he would let Wilhelm drink his blood. It would have to happen eventually, but he couldn’t imagine himself telling the vampire that it was okay to bite him. Those words would get caught in his throat and never emerge. Maybe, unlike his word, Wilhelm would have to pounce on him, bite his throat and drain him by force for that first feed.

A knock sounded against the door, startling him and a soft voice followed. “Dinnertime.” It said, barely mumbling the words. The servant was about to walk away when they hesitated. It looked at him with a blank stare. “You are not supposed to touch that.” They said, gesturing to the box.

“Oh, sorry mate.” He said, not meaning it.

With reluctance, he left the privacy and security of the room in favour of the bustling dining room. He descended the staircase and felt all eyes on him, as if he were a celebrity. The scent of dinner hit him like a swift punch to the guts and he felt an overpowering pang of hunger in his belly.

It seemed the servants had prepared steak, a grand variety roast vegetables and mashed potato. There was even fruit on the side. It smelled incredible, like home cooking. The plate had been laid out for him, with fancy silverware and a glass full of iced water, with a neatly sliced lime wedged on the rim of the cup. Wilhelm was seated at the head of the table, waiting patiently. Unlike him, the vampire had no food in front of him, serving as a reminder that the bloke hadn’t eaten for some time. A few of the servants dined with him, despite the fact that they preferred blood.

“Why are you here?” He groaned. “You’re not even eatin’.”

“I was hoping we could talk.” He replied, as if it had been obvious from the start.

“About what?” He huffed, frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to be watched while he was eating, by a thing that wanted to eat him. “You’ve cured me, so as far as I’m concerned we got nothin’ to talk about.”

“There is no need to be unfriendly.” He said, visibly upset by his comments. Wilhelm had locked him up here and he expected him to be friendly? It was absurd. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant for either of us.” He suggested with a look in his eyes akin to that of a puppy dog, pleading with him. “How about I start with something light, yes?” He thought for a moment. “Tell me about your hobbies, if you wouldn’t mind.”

He couldn’t believe this guy. He made a joke out of this. “Well, I like long walks on the beach, drinkin’, watchin’ tele, jerkin’ off, and curb stompin’ vampires.” He laughed, mocking the question for all it was worth.

“…Isn’t that just lovely.” Wilhelm mumbled sarcastically, hoping he wouldn’t hear it.

“How ‘bout you, mate?” He asked, lining his words with poison.

“Does it matter? You will laugh no matter what I say or ask.” He said, defeated.

“Yeah, it’s cause you’re a joke.” He pointed at Wilhelm with his knife. “I’ve never met a vampire that tries so hard to make his livestock like him, mate… It’s a little bit pathetic.”

Wilhelm made a frustrated sound, like a hiss through his teeth. He then sighed and recollected himself, trying to be patient even through his agitation. “Please, Robin. I understand that this is not an ideal situation for you and that it is unrealistic for me to expect you to like it, but I have made a significant effort to make it enjoyable for you. I don’t believe it is outrageous for me to ask for even a sliver of decency in return.” He let out a long sigh and his gaze softened to be sympathetic and patient. “I’m merely trying to do right by you.” He uttered quietly.

“How about you do right by me and let me go free?” He grumbled as he cut up his steak.

“No, Robin.” He said firmly. “All I want is for you to be happy here.”

“Quit bullshittin’.” He growled. “You only care about my blood and it’s just more convenient for you if I’m not kickin’ and screamin’ while you take it from me. My happiness doesn’t play a part in this.”

Wilhelm’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the tablecloth in an unconscious display of anger. “I am not acting solely for my interests. Yours have also been taken into account—” He refused to let the vampire finish.

“—Take this food for example, yeah? There’s a lot of stuff here, fruit, veggies, meat and look at that! There’s a few nuts in there. It’s everything I could need. And while yeah, you would probably argue it’s to give a variety of stuff for me to eat, I reckon you’re tryin’ ta get my blood just the way you like it.”

“And if you’re so bright, how do I like my blood, then?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

“Well, judgin’ by what you’ve given me, it seems you like a lot’a iron in it. Probably tastes a bit different, maybe better. At least to you, right?”

He froze up, indicating guilt. “…I can be transparent with you and say that yes, it is more to my liking. But I feel it is vital that you are provided with ample nutrients as you will be losing blood—”

“—Can’t you stop with the rubbish already?!” He yelled, slamming the table with his fists, causing the plates to violently crash against the table.

Wilhelm scowled at the sound, and a vivid, unmistakable flash of anger showed in his eyes. “That’s enough.” He snarled back, gaining volume and confidence. “You are not to argue with me.” The vampire hissed. “I have tried to be patient with you and yet you refuse to be respectful!” He grew in volume until he was shouting in fury, baring his fangs.

“If you didn’t want arguments, you should have just made me braindead like the rest of this lot...” He mumbled under his breath.

“If you have something to say, Robin, say it to my face.” Wilhelm snarled.

“Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed the comment with a wave of the hand.

It all fell silent after that, like a ceasefire at the end of a war. THere would be more, of course. But the silence was therapeutic all the same. The clinks of cutlery on fine china punctuated the quiet, causing it to drag on for an eternity. Wilhelm refused to meet his gaze or leave the table for that matter. He instead looked out the open window and up to the grinning moon that mocked them without relent. The bitter aftertaste of his poisonous words lingered on his tongue. It was a cruel reminder of how hateful he and his words had been. He instead focused on the taste of his dinner, which he could admit was decent. It was good in terms of taste but nothing exotic or daring. It was basic, simple but ultimately, nothing at all to complain about. The variety of food present made it pleasant to the taste buds. It was better than anything he could have done at home. Before long, he had eaten it all and rose from his seat, leaving his empty plate on the table.

Wilhelm’s eyes bored into him as he stormed up the stairs to his bedroom.

~***~

Wilhelm was painfully aware that could have gone far better than it did.

The hunter had seemed so calm at first, to the point where he was almost passive. He had been amiable, somewhat friendly, and agreeable but after being given the injection he had become so volatile, like a spark ready to burst into flame if offered even a drop of fuel. After receiving his end of the bargain, Wilhelm’s usefulness to the hunter had dwindled into nothingness, if not less than that. To a degree, Wilhelm felt cheated. He had hoped that by spoiling the man he would have earned some of the affinity he so desired, but friendliness was not exactly written into their agreement.

It had been so foolish of him to think of the hunter in the way he thought of many humans – simple and uncomplicated. Robin wasn’t a child that could be easily pleased with sweets and toys. He was an intelligent being with complex desires. One of which was likely to escape the manor. He wished that wasn’t the case but with the way Robin seemed to eye the windows and doors, it seemed to be so. The human was brighter than he appeared, seeing as he dissected his meal both literally and to gain insight into his intentions. He had the faintest thought that the man would eventually find out, but he hadn’t expected him to find out so quickly nor get so upset about it. Grooming and preparing the blood of thralls was commonplace back home and yet, Robin had expressed such disgust with the idea. It was completely alien to him.

Robin’s fury had torn into him, even now he could hear his infuriated shouts. And he had chosen to bite back like a fool. He regretted it immensely as he was spurning any opportunity to build trust or understanding. Maybe this was cruel. But how else was he to survive? Without domesticated blood, he would have to venture into the towns and risk being witnessed and promptly shot. And was it really so selfish to act in both his and Robin’s interests at the same time? He thought not. The hunter could be well fed, healthy and in return, Wilhelm would receive his delectable blood. It sounded fair to him, at least.

Part of him was beginning to wonder why he was at all concerned about fairness and treating the hunter right. They were natural enemies and it seemed Robin had no care for him at all despite everything he had done. It would be far easier to make the man his prisoner and force the blood from him. He could strap him down and drink as much as he could ever desire. It would be so enticingly easy to ensnare the hunter’s mind, to make him enjoy it, to make him crave his feedings and to make him desperate to please. He could gorge himself on it, be fully satisfied for once in his life and feel the intoxicating pleasure of a proper feed… But that would be simply cruel. He would be stooping to the same, pathetic level of his kin.

He decided that he would make this right, even if Robin didn’t appreciate his efforts.

Wilhelm called for a servant and ordered for tea. In a few minutes, they returned with two cups, one his, one for Robin, provided that he wanted it. He went upstairs to his guests’ room and his vampiric servant followed behind, with both cups in hand. He knocked on the door.

“May I come in?” He asked in the politest manner he could muster, sounding incredibly sheepish.

“Fuck off, Wilhelm.” The hunter growled; his voice slightly muffled behind the door.

“I brought tea.” He prompted, saying it as if it were a peace offering. “…And an apology.” He shyly admitted.

The door was opened slowly and reluctantly. “Make it quick.” The hunter returned to his perch on the bed.

The servant brushed past and offered Robin his cup. He took it with a scowl and then looked to Wilhelm expectantly. He sucked in a breath and readied himself for the worst. “I must apologise for talking to you in the way that I did. It was childish of me to yell at you like that.” He said sombrely. “I personally would like to move on from this, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh yeah, we’ll just forget that you made me your little blood cow. Easy, right?” He scoffed.

“Robin…” He said under his breath and joined him on the bed. “Please give me a chance. I know we have gotten off on less than amiable terms, but I promise you that this can be pleasant.”

“You talk like you’re not gonna be suckin’ my blood like a damned leech.” The hunter hissed.

“And you talk as if feeding is the most horrible thing in the world.” He chuckled. “I have bitten you once before. I’m sure you can testify that it was not so bad. Perhaps it was even a little bit enjoyable, hm?” From this close, the scent of Robin’s blood was perceptible. He wasn’t even bleeding and yet he could smell its delicious aroma, just under the skin, lying in wait for the gentle, loving touch of his fangs. “I will not force you, however. It is still ultimately up to your discretion when you would like me to… treat myself so to speak.”

“Why do you even care about what I want?” He asked, sounding somehow agitated by the fact. “I’ve been thinkin’ over it again and again and I can’t work it out. Most vampires would have ripped into me by now whether I wanted it or not. But you’re jus’… waitin’.”

He wondered whether or not he should answer that question. His reasons were more personal than scientific. To him, this was a passionate rebellion, but he couldn’t know that. He would laugh and mock him for refusing the life he was offered. His lips were sealed, for now. He first needed to be on good terms with the man before unloading something like this onto him. “All you need to know for the moment is that they are not malicious. It is as simple as you having blood whilst I have an appetite.”

“If it’s so simple, ya would’ve plucked an ordinary joe off the street, not a trained vampire hunter.” He retorted. Wilhelm made a mental note not to lie in front of the man as he could easily catch him in the act.

“We have gotten off track,” He began, avoiding it entirely. “May we begin anew from tomorrow?” He outstretched his hand, offering to shake on it.

The hunter’s green eyes darted to his open palm and reluctantly, he took it, marking yet another deal between them.

Next Chapter

[peachoony]

chasing love - one

Genre: mafia!au, smut, arranged marriage

Warnings: blood, kidnaping, basically violence, smut

Word count: 3.2k

Pairing: mafia leader!changkyun x fem!reader

A/N: yes another mafia lmaoo, but this will definitely have more parts. actually i had this au written for a very long time in my drafts so i thought i’d post it.

You greeted all the new guests with a smile while looking for your parents, who were talking to other guests. You walked to them, hoping you wouldn’t get interrupted by some auntie telling you how much you’ve grown up, since the last time she saw you. By the time you reached them they were already bowing goodbye to the guest.

“Dad the priest has arrived and Uncle Minho is asking for you.” You informed him and he nodded, leaving you alone with your mother.

Well actually not really mother. Your parents had passed away in a car accident, before you could even start collecting any memories with them and your biological father‘s brother – your now father – adopted you and now you called them mom and dad. They were just like your actual family.

„You look beautiful, y/n.“ Your mother smiled and you smiled back while looking down on you. You were wearing a baby pink silk dress with some accessories and your hair was lying with wavy curls.

„Thank you mom, but so do you. Still looking all young,” you said making her chuckle and playfully hit your arm.

“Stop it, will you?” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Can you go to up to Mirae and help her a bit with the preparations, I’ll come get you two when it’s time.” She continued and you nodded, mumbling a ‘sure’ before walking up the stairs to the bride’s room.

You knocked twice before walking in with a big smile, but you were rather greeted with an empty room.

“Mirae?” You said and silence answered you.

You opened the bathroom door but nothing. Where is she? You walked further into the big room and your face fell into a deep frown, when you saw Mirae’s wedding dress on the bed. You immediately walked to the bed and your eyes found a folded paper next to it.

No. No she can’t do that. Not today.

With shaking hands you picked it up slowly opening it, scared of confirming your biggest nightmare.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m sorry I haven’t told you this before and It’s probably too late to fix anything, but I can’t marry Changkyun. I tried to force myself but the feelings aren’t there anymore. I fell in love with someone else and, before I could’ve done something that could’ve hurt him more I decided to leave all this behind. Don’t try to find me, I’m happy.

~ Jeon Mirae

You stood there for a while, slowly letting your arms fall next to you, grasping the letter tightly. It took you a moment to realise what just happened, but when it did it came crashing down on you like a tsunami. You blinked a couple of times, still unsure what to do as anxiety started taking over you.

You opened the door, running through the hallways trying to find your parents as you placed a hand against your forehead, but before you reached the stairs you ran into a bigger figure making you stumble back. You looked up, your eyes meeting the ones, you wanted to see the least right now.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” He apologized, his icy expression not leaving his face, as always.

You looked at him with widened eyes, still grasping onto that piece of paper. His eyes scanned your face and he tilted his face.

“Why are you crying?” He suddenly asked, making you sniff. You were crying?

“I…” you started still at a loss of words. “Is everything okay?” He asked, now frowning.

“Mirae…” you said, getting his attention now. “What’s with Mirae? Is she okay?” He was clearly confused on what’s going on.

You nervously looked around, going through a panic attack.

You’ve been walking on heels for years now, but suddenly you couldn’t even stand on them. You needed to sit down with your wobbling leg. How will you tell him that?

“Y/n what happened to Mirae,” he said again louder, stepping closer and you gulped, suddenly scared of him.

“Mirae, she...is not in her r-room,” you choked out, hands shaking when you held up the letter. Changkyun looked at the letter then back to you before grabbing it as his eyes slid from left to right.

Slowly the letter slipped from his hands and landed on his neatly polished shoes. He stared into nothing, before coming back to his senses. You expected him to at least show some emotions, but he just stood there with a clenched jaw. His eyes met yours and you both looked at each other for a solid minute.

“She did what?” Your father yelled out standing up, making the chair fall to the ground.

“We can’t cancel the wedding,” Changkyun’s father said, shaking his head. “What will the people say? They will look down on us.” He added.

“I’m so sorry Minho, If I had known she would do that…” he trailed off and your mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

Changkyun didn’t say anything, while sitting on the couch. His cold eyes looked into nothing with his hand rubbing his jaw.

You sat on the bed still looking at her million dollar wedding dress. Their voices faded and your eyes went back to the letter and you sighed silently. When your name fell, you looked up confused on why you were relevant in this conversation.

“Right, why can’t y/n marry him?” Changkyun’s father said.

“What?” You blurred out, instantly covering your mouth with your hand. “I mean...How can I do this? This is not my place,” you explained and your mother walked to you.

“Y/n right now is not the time, please do us that one favor. Everyone is outside waiting.” Your mother spoke up and you looked over to Changkyun, but he didn’t seem to care what was happening, blinking a couple of times you looked down. “People will look down on us y/n. What image will we bring across? They will take us a joke,” she added and you frowned, deeply in your thoughts.

“Y/n, you won’t regret this decision, I promise you that,” Chanwoo, Changkyun’s brother said this time.

You looked up into the mirror and here you were in a wedding dress, that wasn’t even yours, just like the place as Im Changkyun’s wife. Your heart pounded against your chest as your father walked with you to the hall. You liked Changkyun, maybe more than you were allowed to. You didn’t know when those feelings took over your heart, since it was pretty obvious that your families would form an alliance of the clan’s, but the moment Changkyun’s family asked for Mirae’s hand in marriage, your heart broke into millions of pieces. You were honestly still hoping somewhere deep in your heart that it would’ve been you. That it would’ve been you he fell in love with, but who were you fooling? Mirae was always the prettier one out of you two, always the one everyone liked more. She had all the friends and the lovers. How could you even think you can compete against her? Of course he would choose her, of course he would choose a pretty, outgoing and loveable wife. All these years you pushed your feelings aside and now that you’ve finally mastered hiding those feelings, you’re becoming his wife. You wanted him to be yours secretly for so long, but not like this. Not as a replacement of his actual love. Not as his last option.

“I’m so sorry,” your father spoke up, making you look at him. “You don’t deserve this y/n. You’re not supposed to clean after your sister's mistake,” he continued clearly ashamed.

You stayed silent, not sure what exactly to say. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. I will manage something.” He seemed disappointed in himself.

You shook your head squeezing his arm. “Accepting someone else's daughter and actually treating her like your own kid is not easy. Despite Mirae being your real daughter you always treated us fairly, always making sure I have everything she had. I never felt like an orphan, thanks to you dad.” You smiled as he looked at you with teary eyes.

“You’ve never let me down, now it’s my turn.” You added and he pulled you into a hug.

“You’re not an orphan and neither are you someone else's daughter,” he said after placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my daughter. And after today my only daughter.”

You sighed giving your best holding your tears back so you wouldn't ruin the make up as a smile spread over your face.

“I’ll make sure he treats you right, y/n.” Your father said and you nodded. “I know you will.”

If it wouldn’t be for Changkyun holding your hand, they would be shaking like crazy and when he slid in the ring you almost scoffed. This wasn’t supposed to be the finger the ring should be on, this shouldn’t be the hand he should be holding, this shouldn’t be your dress and this shouldn’t be your husband, but now it was.

You looked around the big room. You were in here once, because of your sister Mirae, but now you’re here as Changkyun’s wife. A sigh left your lips and you leaned back against the headboard, closing your eyes.

So this is your life now?

It was still hard to believe but it was best for you to get used to this, since you would only hurt yourself. Your eyes shot open at the sound of the door opening and you instantly sat up at the sight of Changkyun walking in.

He walked to his dresser, taking off his watch and tie without looking back at you.

“Changkyun,” you started clearing your throat as you stood up from the bed.

“I’m sorry all this happened and I know that I wasn’t supposed to be here today. This is not my place but it happened and I promise to not bother you at all.”

He turned around blankly staring at you and you gulped, clearly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. You were about to speak up, but he suddenly walked into your direction making you stumble back, falling back on the bed.

“Is that all?” He asked and you shuddered at the harsch tone.

He grabbed your wrist, not as harsh as his tone, and pulled you with him to the door and the next thing you knew was him closing the door in front of your face. You stood there for a while, before you realized what just happened.

He threw out of his room.

You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of your husband's room, after he just kicked you out. Tears started gathering at the corner of your eyes and all you wanted to do was fall to your knees and cry. You knew that you wouldn’t get the love and affection from Changkyun as a husband, but if you knew that he would straight up throw you away like a piece of shit, you would’ve definitely reconsidered this marriage. You would’ve saved you from this hell. You couldn't spend the rest of your life like that, not with your own husband treating you like a complete stranger. The thought of living like that just brought more tears into your eyes. You wanted to go home, to your father. You wanted to go back to him. You don’t want this life.

“Y/n?” You suddenly heard someone call your name and you froze, scared to turn around and face whoever was standing there. You slowly turned around looking straight into Chanwoo's eyes.

“Do you need anything?” He asked confused as to why you were standing here in the hallway at almost midnight. You blinked a couple of times, panicking inside and thinking of a plausible answer.

“Uh no…thank you,” you stuttered. He nodded slowly looking to Changkyuns door then you. “Why are you not going in?” He asked with an raised eyebrow and you opened your mouth just to close it again, left with no answer.

“He kicked you out didn’t he?” He sighed and you looked away, clearly embarrassed at the fact that you got kicked out from your own husband.

“That jerk,” he mumbled and started taking steps towards the door, but you immediately grabbed his arm. “No please don’t say anything to him,” you said and he frowned.

“Y/n, he can’t do this. Let me talk some sense into him,” he said and you shook your head. “Chanwoo, please just...don’t.” Your begging made him sigh again and he took a step back.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked you after he walked you to the guest room.

You stayed silent not knowing the answer to his question either. Why were you doing this? Better said why was Changkyun doing this? Why does he hate you so much? Was it really your fault that your sister decided to run away? That you got talked into marrying him?

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you got into this situation.” His last words before he disappeared wishing you a good night.

You sat there for a while and before you knew the tears started running down your face.

You opened your eyes as you felt someone gently shake your shoulder. “Miss, good morning,” a woman smiled and you knew she was one of the workers here. You sat up and blinked the sleep away, before you realized you didn’t have the chance to change, still sitting here in your wedding dress.

“Breakfast is ready in 30 minutes. Please freshen up, I’ll bring you your clothes.” She informed you and you nodded still in the process of waking up.

When she left you sighed and fell back into the bed. You barely got any sleep, all you did was cry and miss your parents. What were they doing right now?

After recalling last night you stood up and walked to your, well Changkyun’s room and thank god he wasn’t there. You quickly got out of your dress straight to the shower and the moment the warm water hit your skin you closed your eyes. You felt your muscles relax, especially after yesterday where you slept in a dress in the most uncomfortable position. After a while you heard the door open and you remembered the worker telling you she will bring you your clothes.

“Place my clothes on the island next to the bathtub, please.” You said, but when you heard Changkyuns voice you almost jumped out of your own skin.

“I don’t have your clothes,” he said and you heard shuffling before he disappeared again and you thanked all the seven seas that your shower glass was dimmed due to the warm water. The moment the door closed you let out the breath you were holding in. Of course this would happen with your luck.

You slipped into your heels before walking down hesitantly, still ashamed of what happened back in the room. When you walked into the dining hall you saw an unfamiliar girl sitting next to Changkyun while pinching his cheeks.

“You’re so skinny gosh, what are you guys feeding my poor baby brother?” She said playfully and you remembered Mirae telling you he has a sister, but she lives in the states due to work which meant she was rarely even here. Her eyes landed on you and she smiled.

“Oh hey, aren’t you Mirae’s sister y/n?” She asked and you nodded slowly. “Uhm, yeah that’s me.” Why was she mentioning her name?

Her next words felt like a slap into your face. “Where is Mirae though?” She asked, still smiling and everyone fell silent. You didn’t dare to move looking away to Changkyun, but he clenched his jaw. Chanwoo slapped her arm and she frowned.

“I’m sorry y/n, she just arrived and we didn’t had the chance to tell her.” He explained and nodded to the seat next to Changkyun with a smile.

“Join us.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” She asked looking at her parents, but Chanwoo silently gave her a sign that he would explain everything once they were alone.

To say the least – the breakfast was awkward. Changkyun didn’t even finish his food before he excused himself for work and honestly you didn’t feel like eating at all, so you just had some fruit to not completely come off as rude.

The moment you walked upstairs you let out a sigh, happy that you had the most awkward moment behind you, but when you heard your name you looked up.

“I’m sorry for what I said in the dining hall. I didn’t know all of this happened, I was just assuming you were here to visit Mirae.” Kyuhyun's sister carefully took a step closer. “It was so insensitive of me to speak without thinking,” she scoffed and you shook your head.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. You didn’t know, since you just arrived today. It’s fine,” you smiled at her and she took a deep breath. “Okay good, I was so scared that you might be upset.” She laughed. “Oh and I’m Gyuri.”

How weird is it that you were just now finding out your husband's sister's name. Mirae never really spoke much about her or the family at all. She was mainly focused on Changkyun, but here and there said something about his family. You knew his family too, exchanging a couple of words on galas and events, but more than the basics you weren’t that informed about them. Especially Changkyun, he was always a mystery to you, with his secretive persona. You were always curious on how Changkyun was with Mirae, since he didn’t seem to be a romantic and affectionate person, but she didn’t really give you any details.

After Gyuri offered you to always talk to her when you needed something, you thanked her and headed back to your room. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, but before you had the chance to drown in your thoughts your phone on the dresser started ringing, showing up your fathers contact.

“Hey dad,” you said and for the first time after your wedding you smiled that genuine.

“Oh wow someone is extra happy,” he chuckled at the other side of the phone.

“I missed you dad.”

“I missed you too y/n,” he said and you could hear the car engine in the back.

“Are you going somewhere?” You asked leaned against the dresser. “Oh yeah I’m on the way to a meeting, so I thought I’ll just quickly have a talk with you.” He explained and you nodded. “I see, but don’t overwork,” you reminded him and he chuckled.

“Yeah yeah don’t worry. How is Changkyun?”

Your smile faded as you remembered everything that happened yesterday. “He is good,” you said, but he sighed. “That’s not what I mean, I’m going to see him in that meeting anyways. How is Changkyung treating you y/n?” He asked more specifically and you bit down on your lower lip. “Don’t worry dad he is good to me.”

Yeah you’re lying, but things will change and then it won’t be a lie...right?

> chasing love masterlist <

[rinstars]

OATH.

PAIRING: Suna Rintarou x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Angst.

WC: 1.3k+

TAGS/WARNINGS: Hurt/Comfort (or maybe not). Suggestive themes. Profanity. Cursing. Slight use of petnames.

SYNOPSIS: Suna Rintarou never break a promise. Especially not to you.

NOTE: A famous Filipino song came on shuffle and prompted the birth of this fic. Can you guess which one?  HINT: It's a pretty old famous love song lmfaooo. Also again, I didn't proofread, deal with it hehe. REBLOGS are appreciated <3

LASTLY, PLEASE HELP ME DECIDE ON WHAT TO WRITE BY ANSWERING THIS FORM HEHE THANK U SO MUCH!!

He sent you a text message fifteen minutes ago. Nothing but a few simple words that somehow weighs you down every single time—like an anchor tied to your ankles and tossed to the ocean. Something that leaves you gasping for air. But you enjoy the cool breeze anyways.

I'm coming over.

Promises meant a lot to Suna. Even if the words weren't outwardly said, he treats the phrase like an unspoken promise between both of you. He always comes when he tells you he will. A little late, a little early, but never not.  And you wait for him. Over and over—in the raging storms, the summer breeze, the winter cold. At the break of dawn, the setting sun, beneath the midnight moon.

Because it was your side of the promise.

I'll be here.

The knocks on your door grow heavier each time. The longer you take to open the door the more you feel the constricting pain choking the life out of you. You drag your feet to the wooden entrance, fingers never getting used to the way the cold steel of the knob makes you want to cry. The ray of light that peeks from the small opening of the door blinds you—God, does it blind you, yet you open it wider. Welcoming the burn as he hastily pushes the door open.

You wish you were able to hide the flinch when he wrapped an arm around your wrist, pulling you closer to him as he buries a pale face down your neck. He probably didn't notice the shake from your body—seeing as he was shaking just as bad. The wetness on his shoulders going unnoticed as his own tears stain yours.

With a small tug, you are beneath him. On the other side of his endless praises, his sweet, sweet words. He kisses you like he's drowning as much as you and you let him. His fingers were no longer shaking when he pulls your underwear down, or at least tries to.

"Rin," you breathe out, pushing against his chest to get him off of you. "Will you talk to me first?"

He looks in your eye, unblinking, unmoving—and you could've sworn you were able to glimpse at the internal debate going on inside his mind. He hovers over you for a few more minutes before completely sitting straight with a sigh, nodding to himself as he offers a hand to you.

You take it, and you hold tight, and if you were given the gift to do what you wanted, Heaven knows you wouldn't have let go.

He notices, and he knows it. He has known for the longest time. Knows how this affects you—how you feel, how you hurt. So, he smiles at you and lets you hold on for as long as today's conversation permits.

"I just, fuck-- I don't know what to do." He swallows thickly, like he's holding back the tears from spilling. "I swear—shit do I fucking swear, that I try, I really try, yeah?"

"I know, Rin," you squeeze his hands a little tighter, thumb running over his knuckles as a poor attempt in comforting. "But sometimes, things just don't work out the way we want it to. You know that."

His eyes look over to you, the gentle smile on your face laced with something he would rather not think about too much. He thinks you're right—you're always right. He couldn't remember a time when you were wrong.

"Then," he crawls over to you slowly, fingers trailing a path from your temples to your jaw before settling there and tugging your bottom lip—a silent request from his breaking heart.

Closing your eyes, you released a shaky breath before slowly opening them and continuing with your constant reject. "Then let's stop doing this. I just—you know this isn't right, Rin."

It's almost like something clicked in him the moment you said that. The fog in his eyes clearing as the hand holding your jaw drops to his side. You ignore the pain building up your chest, the sensation almost numbing, as you wait for him to agree. He will, you thought. He always listens to you.

"Yeah, yeah," He almost chuckles humorlessly, throwing his head back on the couch. "Bet she really wouldn't take me back if she found out I run over to you again, right?"

Turning your head to the side, you hope you blinked the tears fast enough for him to not see. Of course, it's her. It has always been her. He never really calls you when he's not going through another rough patch with his girlfriend, never meets up unless he wants to find solace between your legs, never really smiles at you that often

"Rin, we—" you bite your lip to prevent it from shaking, tightening your hold on his fingers to hide the tremble. "We need to stop doing this. She loves you, and—God, do I know how much you love her."

He smiles at nothing, like a fond memory is replaying in his head, the next few syllables breaking you more than you think it should. "Yeah, I do."

This time, you decide to finally show your tears, enough pretending as you prepare yourself for what's about to come. "S-suna, I really—you see, I loved being with you. I adore you and you're probably someone I'd never be able to forget ever, you know?"

He turns his body as he faces you, the hairs falling on his forehead too irresistible for you to not fix. He eyes you with a mix of confusion and recognition—like he knows where this is going but needs you to say it for him.

"Me too, princess."

"I've been meaning to say goodbye a few months ago," you sniffed, looking down on your lap as you lose all the strength to stare back at the eyes you've grown to love. "But I thought maybe I'll let another winter pass. I know how much you break in this weather."

He laughs with you at that—the humor lost in the sea of regret and pain, eyes glossing over but he didn't understand why. Maybe you meant a lot more to him that he cares to admit. And he isn't sure what to do with it, doesn't recognize it clear enough to come up with a course of action.

"I love you, Rin."

Snapping him out of his thoughts, you could notice the faint flinch on his fingers. Hearing you choke up the words like this, vulnerable and broken in front of him, almost made him want to be irrational again. How do you break someone who's done nothing but mend you?

He has known for the longest time. The suspicion always lingering on the back of his head and yet hearing you say it doesn't compare to the amount of times he's run the scenario up his head, finding the right way to respond.

"I know."

"And it's hurting me so, so bad." The cracks in your voice almost mirroring the ones in your heart, hand flying up to your face like you wanted nothing more than to hide. The pain, the tears, the love.

"I know, princess." He repeats, hands tugging yours so you can hide your face on his neck, sobbing onto him the way he's always done with you. He keeps your head there—partly because he knows showing his own tears will just make this harder. "You take care, yeah? Love someone who really deserves it next time."

"I'm not—I w-won't be here next time, Rin. Sorry for breaking my promise."

"In the next life, princess," He kisses your temple, threading long fingers through your hair, a shaky voice accompanying his next words. "I'll come over to you."