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daddyfordaeddy · 11 months ago

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Pairing: god of time! San x f! Reader

Word Count: 2113

Warnings: cursing, dub con (it's a planned scenario but only shown to be one at the end so read with caution) (smut warnings under cut)

Genre: smut, rated E for explicit, established relationship au

Summary: Strange things keep happening, and your best friend may know something about it

Smut warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving, male recieving but only like a sentence and implied), unprotected sex (wrap before tap guys🔫), dirty talk, slight begging if you squint, felching (again), cum play, praise, light breast play, dub con, roleplay (they're roleplaying that san is her best friend who takes advantage of her), creampie i think?

I’m only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 25! free use/spit play, and i chose the former! this is a pretty heavy fic (dubcon) ad if you don't like it, please click away! while at the end it's mentioned that this is just a scenario, it's not really said outright and it's only at the very end so please!! read with caution!

And this is the last of the FFF i'm writing! i hope you enjoyed the burst of smuts from me and maybe you'll see more in the future ;)

ALSO! as threatened by @sanjoongie...dedicated to her and it's for topaz's eyes only lol /hj

A strange taste fills your mouth and you stop mid-sentence, clearing your throat and chugging the rest of your water. Your best friend, San, is watching you with concern on his face. “You good (Y/N)?”

You nod, clearing your throat again and swallowing down the strange bitter taste in your throat. “Uh. Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “Just got a weird taste in your throat. Probably choked on my spit or something.”

San hums, brushing over the incident, but when he’s left for his apartment and all you have to keep you company is silence, you rush to the bathroom to cough and gargle the familiar taste of come out of your mouth. That has been happening to you for the past few days. You’ll be in the middle of the most mediocre task and in the blink of an eye your mouth or ass is sore and there’s cum dripping somewhere.

You remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday (and to be honest, it was only just the past Saturday). You were just doing your laundry with San playing video games as he usually does since you just ‘have the better router’, when you felt your underwear grow sticky and your legs quiver like when you use your Hitachi in privacy. With a glance at San, you slid into the bathroom and yanked your underwear down, staring for a good moment at the wetness that covered both the cloth and your thighs. There was no mistake about it. You had orgasmed.

You had brushed it off as just some random body thing, but then it happened again. And again. Some days you’d just be having dinner, and on others, you’d just be reading a book and you’ll find yourself ass up and underwear soaked. Every once in a while, you’d even have the taste of come on your tongue.

You swear you’re haunted, but no amount of salt, or incense, or candles kept whatever entity it was from coming and using you in the blink of an eye.

But one day, you were just trying to have a nice shower when this time, when you blinked, you were laying on the ground with come all over your face and your cunt ached and gaped more than you were used to. Tentatively, you pushed two fingers inside you, subconsciously letting out a sigh at the stretch. When you draw them back out, your eyebrows raise at the white, sticky release clinging to your fingers. That was a first, and you hate that you grow wetter at the idea.

This needs to stop.

“San, I think I’m being haunted,” you cry, launching yourself into his arms as soon as he opens the door at eleven at night. “I swear I can’t stop it.”

San’s brows furrow the slightest bit. “What do you mean? Why so late?” Even through his confusion, he lets you in and locks the door behind him, a fact you’re eternally grateful for.

“Okay, hear me out. I think a ghost is haunting me and using my body as a toy.” You know you sound like a fool with how San’s expression changes to that of slight amusement. “You don’t have to believe me, but I swear it’s happening!”

With a sigh coming from the depths of his soul, San opens the blanket he had swaddled himself in, and you quickly curl up under his arm. “Do you want to stay here tonight? We can check it out tomorrow.”

You nod as best you can with your face in his warm, sturdy, chest and the two of you waddle your way to his bed. The covers are thrown off haphazardly and you almost feel bad until you remember what happens to you when you’re in your apartment and you let it go.

As you melt into the bed, San throws an arm around you and mumbles in your ear, “You did look pretty good sprawled out in the shower.”

It’s almost embarrassing it takes you a minute to register what he says but your eyes snap open to find San staring at you right in the eyes with a smirk growing on his face. You jerk away from him but you’re tangled in the sheets and you just fall to the ground.

You try again, but this time, something’s off. Your limbs aren’t moving how you want them to…or moving at all. San’s smile only grows wider as he leans over the edge of the bed to stare at you. “Surprise,” he hums, reaching down to pull you back onto the bed like you weigh nothing. “You were just too easy, (Y/N)ie. Running straight to my arms like I’m the one to save you? Pathetic.” He scoffs, his hands wandering down your sides. It would feel ticklish but as much as you try to squirm, nothing happens and his hands keep moving.

With a glint in his eye, his large palm comes to rest on your cunt, still soaked through from what he did to you in the shower. And within a second, he pushes your panties aside and presses his fingers into you, groaning at how loose you are. “It was so fucking easy,” he moans, moving closer to you so his breath fans over your face. You can smell the mint toothpaste and you want to spit in his face, but you can’t. “You don’t even remember anything, right? Just what happens after. But God, now you finally can see exactly what I do.”

His hands slide up your torso, pushing your bra up to play with your nipples. “So pretty and pliant for me,” his lips twist into a smile and he presses a kiss to your slightly open mouth. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long. You never saw the way I looked at so, what was a guy supposed to do? Now I finally have you.”

His breathing becomes laboured as his mouth trails down your neck before nipping at the soft flesh of your breast. You can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, twitching and forming a wet patch at the front of his grey sweatpants. San’s hand reaches between your bodies to shove his pants down enough to free his cock, slapping it against your cunt before lining up and pushing in slowly. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of your hot pussy swallowing him up. “Just as sloppy and loose as I like it.”

He presses his lips feverishly against your unresponsive mouth, thrusting harshly. Each time he pulls out and slams back in, you can hear every squelch and you want to moan at how his thick cock hits the perfect spot every time. You hate that you love the feeling of him stretching you out and kissing your walls so sweetly. But the worst part is the fact that as much as you can feel every little bit of pleasure he’s serving you, you can’t move an inch to chase your own pleasure. The slow pressure building in your gut stays stagnant and you won’t come, not until you’re free from this prison of time.

San’s still mouthing at your parted lips, his hands wandering around your torso and gripping at your skin. His thrusts have become more erratic, pistoning in and out of you as his cock throbs. “Oh my God,” he groans, high-pitched and almost whining as he comes deep inside of you. With each rope of cum, you can feel it filling you up so well and if you could, you would relax at the end of it. San pants against your lips, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat falls on you.

His hands are still gripping onto your hips like there’s no tomorrow, but his hips come to a still as he jerks once, twice, and the last bits of come spurt out of him. “God, still so perfect,” San hums, biting at your lower lip. “So much better when you look at me like that. So pretty.”

His hands cup your face and stroke your cheek. He slowly pulls out of you but to your surprise, instead of letting you regain control of your body, he shifts, sliding lower. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening but as soon as his warm breath hits your core it hits.

As he licks a broad stripe up the pool of his come and your slick, you jolt with a gasp, your body finally back to yours. Before you can do anything, struggle, moan, even blink, San sucks harshly at your clit and your hands fly to grip his hair as you half scream half moan. “Shit–” you whine out, voice broken as if you’ve forgotten how to speak. “San– please–”

As a response, his tongue flicks your clit and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you even closer to him. “Fuck, taste so good, and you taste even better begging for me.” His voice is so raspy as he mouths his way down to your fluttering hole, shoving his tongue in and working it against your clenching walls.

You squeal, legs jerking but you can’t move too much before they suddenly are still and you lift your head to see San staring right at you as he tastes you. “Isn’t it so much easier that way?” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, eyes burning with desire. “No struggling, just feeling?”

Before you can respond, his teeth scrape against your sensitive bud and the slow build-up of your orgasm finally crashes over you. Your brain goes fuzzy and your vision burns white as you throw your head back onto the mattress and your hands grip his hair so tight you fear you might’ve pulled out some hair. You swear you’ve gone deaf for a few blissful seconds before you come back down from your high and San’s slowed his licks as he groans, sitting up and pressing just the head of his dick into you as he cums again, painting your folds white. Gently, he pushes his come back inside of you around his dick while thrusting shallowly into you, moaning as his come foams up around his fingers. “God, you’re such a fucking dream," San moans, crawling up to meet your tired face and kiss you deep, his tongue working its way into your slack mouth, and you can taste his come on his tongue.

A pause, and he cups your face and presses another, lighter, kiss to your lips. You respond this time, pulling him closer by his shirt collar. “I wasn’t too rough with you, right?” His voice is much smaller now, and your eyes crinkle as you smile at him fondly.

“Of course not. You never are. Sure, I was a bit sore after you used your powers, but hey, that’s what makes it good.” You press a kiss on his cheek. “I’m just happy I got to be with you. I mean, who else can boast they’re dating a god of time?”

San chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “And I’m lucky to be dating the one and only (Y/N).” He presses another sweet kiss to your temple. “You did so well for me too. Now, let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

You chuckle, winding your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. “Or…we could use another round.”

“Ah, you’re not tired yet? I just used you for a good hour,” San scolds, but you can feel him growing hard against your hip again. “Maybe I should tire you out for real.”

With a smirk, you reach down and palm his growing erection. “Maybe you should,” you start to say, but you’re soon cut off by his lips on yours. He picks you up, making you squeal as he carries you to the connected bathroom. “Aw,” you pout, but San kisses it away and you see the darkness in his eyes.

“Don’t ‘aw’ so soon, baby. If you want a round two, it’d just be easier to do it here,” San teases and your eyes brighten at his implications. “Now be good for me and get on your knees.”

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself already ready in position on the cold tile and heat pools in your core as you smile and open your mouth wide. Your body freezes, but your mind relaxes as you let him slip his half-hard cock into your mouth. There are many perks to dating him, and this is just one of them.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez san #san x reader #san smut #san fanfic #san fanfiction #smut

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calypsocolada · 1 year ago

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213 DAYS | f. dostoevsky

(click here for part two)

synopsis: you seek out a demons help not realizing just how long he’s waited for you.

authors note: LOL this was completely out of left feild. I binged bungo stray dogs in less than a month and CANNOT stop thinking about this man (and every other character) who would definitely manipulate me to death. LOL anyways enjoy this mess, i didn’t have much of a plan just kinda wrote.

cw: suggestive, soft!fyodor, lovesick!fyodor (he’s literally obsessed with you), manipulative, fluff, making out, cussing, plot convenience lol

wc: 3.9k

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Your hands were shaking terribly so you clenched them tighly as you followed a guard down a long, long hallway. It’s lights sickly, everything looked the same, the doors, windows, ceilings and flooring. All without a single identifiable difference. You took a steadying breath as the guard a few feet in front of you slowed. He turned slightly to talk to you over his shoulder.

“No one comes to visit this guy, your the first since he’s been here.” He says. You knew a lot about said prisoner. A bit of a complicated past, very, very complicated. “He doesn’t have any existing family, or so I’ve heard.” You could tell with the way this guard was talking he was sweet on the prisoner. That didn’t surprise you, the man you were about to see for the first time in months had a lot of things under his belt. He was manipulative, he could trick the soul right out of your body. The guard rounded one last corner and you knew which padded cell was his. Your hands shook even worse as the guard approached the door.

“I’m sure you know how dangerous he is.” The guard starts as you give him a sharp look.

“I do. Do you?” He looked caught, like the jig was up. He cleared his throat.

“Of course, ma’am. Our city thanks you for capturing him.”

“Just open the door. Oh and,” you take a step towards the guard. “Whatever he’s promised you, I advise you to not take it, or you’ll have me to deal with.” You threaten, the guard's eyes go wide as he slowly nods his head. “Good boy.”

The doors swung open and you saw him just mere feet away, locked tight in the middle of a room.

Fyodor.

There were countless scraps of paper littering the white walls. A various drawings of you. You walked forwards, eyes catching each piece. He started to not remember your face after some time so on some papers there were just hazy outlines but you knew it was you.

Your heart sped like crazy, his sharp snake like eyes met yours and a wicked grin spread across his lips. HIs eyes dragged every inch of your body, probably thinking this was a once in a lifetime visit and he had to memorize your features all over again. He told you you’d come back to him someday, you didn’t think it’d be so damn soon.

All alone the giant room seemed small. You walked forwards, feeling all sorts of things, sickness and anxiousness from seeing Fyodor again. You’d been driven right into the hands of a demon. You could feel his grip beckoning you to come closer. A dangerous energy swirling. You'd felt that since you first met him, unexplainable and new.

“213 days was all it took for you to come back to me.” Fyodor greeted as you walked the distance towards him. He’d counted the days, it wouldn’t surprise you if he knew it all down to the second.

“That’s quite some time.” You answered and Fyodor cocked his head to the side just barely, coal black hair falling over his shoulder.

“It is, my love, too long if you ask me.”

“Not long enough.” You quipped. Fyodor’s eyes locked onto yours. He was devilishly handsome, whatever pull to him back then you still felt in the pit of your stomach when you were around him. Like a magnet or a string tied from you to him. Everywhere you went didn’t matter because it all led back to him. Something kept you thinking of him for those 213 days just the same as him.

“You say that but your eyes tell a different story.”

“Mhm, is it the same story you so crave for me to want.”

“You will want it in due time, my love, but until then a new story is being written.”

“What story is that?” You ask. Fyodor grinned, eyes lighting.

“Well, the story of us.”

“It looks a lot like a tragedy.” You said and Fyodor sighed, amused with your comebacks.

“Now it does, but that’s just the first act. Can’t have a resolution so early on.” He’d wave off if he could. He was currently in a straight jacket, chained to the floor beneath him. He was a dangerous man and this was the only way to keep him from trouble.

“You’re smart, I’m sure you know why I’m here.” You say, you were now mere feet from him, his coal back hair looked like silk, his red crimson eyes looking up at you with something like amusement. You knew he was going to play dumb just for the sake of you talking more to him.

“I’m sorry, you might have to catch me up.” You needed his help and there was little Fyodor wanted in this word, but the biggest, most glaring thing he wanted was you. He’d been infatuated the moment he saw you fighting alongside the detective agency, he’d even foiled some of his comrades plans just to make sure you weren’t hurt in the process. Still, he was a highly dangerous criminal and should be treated as such. You needed to remember that. You slowly sat on the chair across from him.

“Dazai’s been captured and has been missing for three days now. The kidnappers have given us a week. If they were smart enough to trick Dazai they’re well over our heads. I’ve exhausted every avenue, I can’t sleep, I’m scared they’re going to kill him. I'm alone in all of this. If anyone is close to Dazai’s level it’s you.” You explained, Fyodor’s face morphed into something you hadn’t seen much except in your loved ones faces. He looked worried. “What is it?” You asked, scared that he knew something you didn’t and that he couldn’t help you, this was really a last resort.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” Fyodor asked, genuinely concerned. Your lips parted in surprise.

“What?” Was all you could say, he’d surprised you.

“How long have you not slept, my love?”

“That’s- that’s not what’s important here, Fyodor.” You dismissed.

“That’s what’s important to me. How long?” He asks, a bit more commanding this time.

“I- I don’t know. Two days at least.” You answer. Fyodor’s face goes serious.

“I will help, but you will not. You will sleep.”

“We’re working this together. Faster you solve the faster I can sleep.” You counter, wondering if this really was the only stipulation he needed in exchange for his help.

“Deal, we should get started at once.” He says, hastily working something behind his back until suddenly his damn straight jacket clicks and falls to the floor. You gasp, shocked. He could’ve broken out of that this whole time. You wondered what other measures put in place to keep him here were really just laughable to him. If he could escape so easily why hadn’t he before now? Was he really just waiting all this time for you to come back to him?

“That’s- that’s it?” You stutter as Fyodor stands, holding a hand out to you to take.

“Your precious company is more than enough to repay me for my services.” He beams and you know he means it. You're not sure what is it about you that has him to utterly captivated, whether it's all a lie and a part of some plan of if he really, truly cares for you.

Cautiously you take his hand and gently he pulls you to your feet, tugging you against his chest, long white fingers tucking hair behind your ear.

“You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you.” He says and you feel a traitorous blush creep across your cheeks. His eyes look hazy this close, you could feel on hand ghosting your cheek and another around your back. "Now, listen closely love, I own three out of four of the guards outside my door, plus the warden. You use those powers of yours on the last one and we can escape peacefully." He says, hands sliding off your body as he knocks a serious of knocks on the door, most likely some sort of code. Your mouth drops open.

"You what?" You burst out. He really was just relaxing here, not confined at all. Fyodor cocks his head at you, confused as though he hadn't just told you he practially owns the prison.

"I like to play games, dear, you know that. As long as I'm back in the morning no one will know." He says. Your jaw ticks as you strut across the floor, closing the distance between you two. You grab him by the front of the shirt.

"I'm not bringing you back here just so you can break free behind my back!" You growl, he looks at you as though you claimed the stars in the sky.

"I'm quite content here for now, but here, I'll make you a deal." He offers as you furrow your brows.

"A deal?" You echo and he nods his head. You let go of the front of his shirt.

"You visit me once a month and I'll stay put."

"You're crazy." You breath out, but the conviction on his face was real. He'd rather see you once a month than be free. It was fucking insane. You bit your lip in contemplation. "You give me the names of every worker here under your payroll as well." You say and he instantly nods his head.

"Do we have a deal?" He holds out his hand for you to take, and for the second time today, you take it. His cold hand envelopes yours, fingers gripping you gently as a smile spreads across his lips.

"We gotta go." You say and Fyodor nods his head.

"Swipe your card and put the guard with the blond hair to sleep." Fyodor says and you nod. You do as told, the door sliding open. There were four guards, three with dark hair and one women with blond hair. She looks up and smiles when you walked out. You smile back.

"Sleep." The power drips from your voice and the other guards are startled when the girl falls to the floor snoring lightly. They jump up, guns at the ready.

"Gun's down," Fyodor directs coldly, walking out behind you. The guards do exactly as told.

"Sorry, boss." The guard from earlier says, eyes meeting yours. You felt like an idiot, warning him earlier to watch himself around Fyodor and now here you were aiding his escape.

"We're going on a little date, keep things quiet while I'm gone." Fyodor says as the guards salute to him. You stroll out of the prison, Fyodor a step behind you.

“If you had an ounce of malice in your body you could destroy anyone that you ever came across, you know.” Fyodor said when you loaded into your car, the look in his eyes like a kid looking at their favorite superhero. Like he truly admired you. You had a hard time believing that but he was here and if he tried anything you could shut it down with your powers quite quickly. You had the power to control anyone with just your words. You were the one who captured him all those months ago, you could do it again.

“You're over estimating me.” You say as you turn down a backstreet that led towards the agency. Everyone else was out on various tasks, you were on this job alone. Everybody else just assumed he’d find a way to save himself, you didn’t like taking that chance. Dazai had saved you millions of times and you’d try your hardest to repay him.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself, dear, your agency friends would agree. You could be completely devastating.” Fyodor says as you roll your eyes.

“Well you must all be so lucky.” You wave off, pulling into the agency. You met Fyodor at the front of the car. Giving him a serious look.

“Don’t try anything, I really don’t wanna have to kill you.” You say tiredly, too tired to stop his hand from crossing the space between you two, tucking your hair out of your eyes. You freeze at the contact.

“To die by your hands would be bliss to me dear, but you won’t be rid of me yet.” He says, the look in his eyes like admiration, he looked at you the same way your father looked at your mother. It makes you feel unwanted things.

“When will I be rid of you?” You ask, but it was a loaded question and you weren’t sure what you meant. If you meant physically or mentally because you thought about him all the time when he was gone. Fyodor’s eyes slide down to yours, his hand lingering on your cheek.

“Dear, when we’re done here you’ll be begging me to stay.”

“In your dreams.” You challenged and he just smiled.

“Yes, those too.”

You swallowed and waved Fyodor forwards. As you walked, Fyodor turned to speak with you.

“You could’ve used your powers to bring me here.” Fyodor points out as though you didn’t know that.

“Yes, I could’ve.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I did, then I told you not to remember.” You jest.

“Oh dear, how I would love you to manipulate me. But alas you are nothing like me, but that’s what I like the most. The purest of intentions.”

You slide the key into the lock, pushing the door to the office open. Fyodor gives the place a once over as you lead him towards your desk.

You slide into your chair, taking out the letter that was sent to the agency about Dazai’s disappearance. Something you’ve looked at time and time again, it almost made you dizzy with exhaustion seeing it again.

Fyodor leans against your back, face close to yours as he reads the note over your shoulder. Your heart speeds at the contact. Fyodor’s hand slides down your shoulder to the note as he points to something.

“Dazai sent this himself.” Fyodor says quietly next to your ear. You snap your head to the side to look at him. He’s so close as he slowly slides his eyes to meet yours.

“What?” You force out.

“Look there, love,” you look at where his finger is pointing. It’s small so you bring the note just a little bit closer. A smile smiley face. You hadn’t noticed that before.

“What the hell?” You ask.

“Some letters are darker than the others, it reads out, ‘be back in two weeks, Dazai’.” You feel like a complete idiot. Anger builds fast in your chest. You rip the note in two and push yourself up from your desk.

“I just helped break a highly dangerous criminal out of a maximum security prison to find out Dazai’s on vacation.” You huff, falling back down into your chair. You hear a soft chuckle behind you. “Screw this.” You growled, storming out of the office towards your car. In your anger you totally forgot Fyodor but that didn’t matter because he followed you just a few steps behind. It was later in the day now, you were so tired and so angry as you stormed to your car. “Get in.” The power slipped into your words as Fyodor tripped over himself to get in the car, you hadn’t even noticed you did it, sometimes that happens when you lose control of your emotions. This was still so new to you. When you slipped in beside Fyodor, you pressed your head against the steering wheel, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that, dear.”

“But it’s true. It took you seconds! I haven’t slept in days, searching that note night and day.” Frustration built in your chest as angry tears formed in your eyes.

“Dazai’s lucky to have a friend like you, someone who would lose sleep to help. Doesn’t matter how fast I figured it out, you would’ve gotten it out.”

“The note said a week till he was dead.”

“And you still had four days. Stop being so hard on yourself.” You slowly lifted your head off of the steering wheel, eyes fluttering to Fyodor’s. His voice was so calm, so non judgmental, it was messing with your head. You clear your throat.

“It’s too late to take you back now, we’ll have to go in the morning.” You say, trying to snap yourself out of whatever spell Fyodor was casting onto you. His face softens.

“Okay, dear.” He says, settling into the seat. You were hesitant bringing him to your home, he could kill you. But some stupid part of you thought differently of him, some part told you he wouldn’t hurt you. And that stupid part, driven by exhaustion had you driving back to your place, leading him inside and locking the door behind you too. You turned to him in the dim light of your hallway, his eyes shining red.

“Do I have to make you behave yourself?” You ask, the tightness of the hallway had you two quite close.

“You do whatever you like to me.” He whispered, his pale lips smirking in the dark. You swallow against the dryness in your throat, something tugs in your stomach. This was a terrible idea. The way he was looking at you was more dangerous than anything. The space between you both was barely existent. He was so tall, so handsome, all dark and magnetizing. You felt it all washing over you now. A invisible pull. A terrible turn. You let out a breath in your chest, eyes locking with his. Your hands had their own mind, reaching for the front of his shirt, his eyes watch over you. Your fingers knotted in his shirt and you stepped in his space. His lips parted. “Love, you’re crossing a line.” He whispers and you pause, drunk on something you weren’t sure of. Clearly you weren’t thinking straight but sobering up felt like going against yourself. It was strange.

“Should I stop?” You ask. His hand slides up your arm to tuck under your jaw, cold fingers pressing there.

“Never.” He says huskily. “But if you kiss me now then throw me in prison in the morning I’ll be quite hurt.” He jokes, his accent thickens. The air in your chest that you didn’t know you were holding exhales. You leaned into him and watched his eyes drift close, felt his body slack in anticipation. He was completely whipped, he was the one under your spell.

“You thought I was going to kiss you?” You ask, gaining a bit of attention back. Fyodor cocks his head just a bit, eyes fluttering open.

“You weren’t?” He asks, his lips slightly pouting. You grin sharply, slowly rocking on the tips of your toes to pull him down to your lips. A soft press, an answer. Something shoots through your body at the contact. You wanted this. You’ve wanted this since meeting him. He’d wanted the same. You pretended it away the best you could but you couldn’t fucking help it. He wasn’t a good person but he was to you. It was like he was two different people. One made for you. Fuck, you couldn’t help yourself any longer. Your hands dragged up into his hair, tangling. He groaned into your mouth, letting you walk him back into the front door, pressing your body against his, pinning him. You pulled back, kissing his jaw down to his neck, he whimpered at the contact, melting against your touch. “Love, you— you can’t,” he panted, unable to form a coherent sentence. Your cold hand slide under his shirt, feeling warmth beneath it, he gasped at your touch. His hands held you softly, as though you’d realize who you’d be kissing if he held you even tighter. But you knew who he was, what he’d done. But fuck it. You kissed him all over, his neck and jaw and cheeks and lips, you couldn’t stop. He shivered and his fingers slowly dig into the fat of your hips as he pulled you closer to him. He sighed, head falling to the side to give you better access. You kissed softly at his open throat and he made a low sound.

“I’ll show you to my room,” you whispered into his neck, hand sliding into his. When you went to tug him he didn’t move, you turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t.” He says and your heart dips.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” you say, dropping his hand but he catches your fingers, shaking his head.

“You misunderstand me. I want to. But not right now, you’re not- you’re tired and it’s been a long day, I’d rather you sleep then keep you up all night.” You find yourself blushing at his words. You swallow.

“What if I want that?” You barely whisper as though your words held too much gravity. You watch his jaw tick, something flashing in his eyes. It was clear what he was thinking about.

“Love, please, I have just a shred of chivalry left, don't test it.” God you wanted to test it so badly but you felt light headed, exhaustion plaguing you now.

“Alright,” you say softly, he closes the distance between you both, pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. When he pulls back he pauses a hair’s width from your lips and when he speaks you feel his breath tickling you.

“Let’s go.” He says. You fumble through the darkness, Fyodor’s arms around your body, pressing soft kisses to you shoulders and neck as you push open the door to your bedroom. You strip down, changing into a large t shirt, letting Fyodor borrow something to change into. Something an ex left at your place, you decided not to tell him that. You both fell into the bed together, exchanging tired kisses in the dark. His body on top of yours, the weight of it heavy, you brought your hands to his sides pulling more of him on top of you. “For someone who hasn’t slept in days you have a lot of energy.” He mutters against your neck. You shutter.

“I want you so badly.” You say before you can stop yourself.

“Trakhni menya…” he groans softly, rolling off of you. You roll to face him, blushing and hot. “You have to sleep.” He says, his hands sliding around you to pull you into his chest. You settle in his arms, his heart beating steadily against your back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder. You close your eyes, listening to his steady breathing. How things escalated was beyond you but you’d never felt more comfortable in your damn life. He pulled a cover over the both of you, reaching to flick off the light. He brushed your hair back out of your face as you wondered what the hell you were going to do in the morning. Taking him back made your stomach twist. You realized for those 213 days you were looking for a reason to seek him out. That when an opportunity fell into your lap you grabbed and ran with it because despite everything you tried lying to yourself about, you wanted him badly enough to break him out of prison. You settled closer to him, sleep slowly tugging you deeper. You tangled in bed with Fyodor, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

One last thought formed before you were taken by sleep.

You weren’t taking him back. He was yours to keep now.

#fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky smut #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #fyodor d

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prismuffin · 2 years ago

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Hi I'm the, ' Peter Parker (Spiderman) x fluffy spider mutant reader? ' anon.

I saw in your reblog that you were up for doing my request, so I'm sending it now, so I dont forget.

Basically, the reader is a fluffy spider mutant, having 2 sets of arms. He absolutely loves smothering Peter with love in a hug. When Peter gets back from his college classes or a patrol.

A/n: yayyy you found me good job anon!! I’m glad I could take over writing this request so hope you enjoy! Kinda short I'm sorry-

This is mostly based on TASM/2012!Peter but it can be read as any other Peter as well!

Love and Affection

Peter Parker (Spider-Man) x male!spider-mutant!reader

( summary: after your boyfriend comes home stressed from his college classes you decide to give him some much needed loving )

warnings?: mentions of multiple limbs, spider noises and references to spiders! Also teeth rotting fluff

!-!more under the cut!-!

Peter sighed as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. He was up all last night saving New York and barely got to rest before he was thrusted into his studies. At least he can rest for a while before going out on his patrols. A small smile found it's way to his face as he dug through his pocket for his keys, he couldn't wait to see you, to hear your happy clicks in his ears as you wrap each of your 6 arms around him. Maybe he can convince you to carry him around so that he doesn't have to walk anymore.

With a click, the door was unlocked and Peter eagerly went inside. Just as he thought, a couple of quick click-like sounds were heard from his bedroom, which he shared with his loving boyfriend. He sat his bags down and began taking off his jacket and shoes, leaning down to untie them.

He sensed you before he saw you but still, he acted surprised when he leaned back up and felt your arms around his waist, then his chest, the other set was used to turn him around in your arms. “Welcome home~” you nuzzled into his neck, leaving soft kisses here and there, making him giggle as your fluff tickled his skin. He practically melted at the feeling, a sigh of content leaving his mouth as his whole body relaxed. “I missed you.” You heard him practically whisper in your ear and you chuckled. “I missed you too love.” Your arms rubbed across his back, up and down in such a comforting way he could almost cry. The past few days have been stressful and the way he clung to you showed that. “Are you ok Petey?” He shook his head and you hummed. “Tired?” He nodded and you smiled, glad it was something you could help with.

"Come on then my love, it's cuddle time!" You effortlessly picked him up, carrying him to your shared bedroom while he laughed at your enthusiasm. Placing him down on the bed, you undressed him and made sure he was comfortable before cuddling up beside him, pulling the covers over the both of you. Your arms rubbed his back, another set playing with his hair, effectively drawing a yawn from his tired form. "Maybe you should take a break from patrols for a while sweetheart." You whispered and he mumbled something that you couldn't quite make out, his eyes closed as he seemed right on the edge of falling asleep. "I can watch over New York for you while you rest." Peter only gripped you tighter at that statement and you guessed he didn't want you to leave him right now. Moving impossibly closer, Peter placed his hands on your chest, leaning in to place a tired kiss to your lips. It was short, but the little amount of affection had made you beam, a quick purr-like sound erupting from your throat as you nuzzled into him. With your bodies pressed together, with your fluff warming him along with the blankets, you both drifted off into a peaceful slumber by each other side.

----!----

(So sorry it's kind of short! Feel free to request again!)

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN so feel free to request anything! Just make sure you check out my Request Info first!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #2012 peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x male reader #male reader #x male reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x you #x you #spiderman fanfiction #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #prismuffin

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owlyflufff · 8 months ago

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2 questions:

1. How is your day going? (Did u eat anything tasty?)

2. Do you have any bokuaka fic recs?

Hello anon!

First of all, I want to apologize so much for the SEVERE delay on this ask since I've been very busy and kind of overwhelmed the past few months (which explains my severe inactivity)!!!

As to answer your questions:

My day has been really well, thank you so much <33! I got to prepare my favorite food for breakfast too so it's been a good day. Hope that you manage to eat well and eat something tasty just as much, don't forget to drink water while you're at it!

For this ask, I'd just like to say that I'm a really simple person when it comes to fics TvT I'm not very choosy and I'll read what I can get xD! I suppose I only draw the line when I don't click well with the characterization of bokuaka. Also there are a few things I do just want to give as a heads up and I'm sorry if I disappoint TvT: - I don't personally read smut fics for bokuaka, or any fics for that matter. I will confirm that I don't mind people who like smut or anything r18! I wholeheartedly respect their tastes and interests and won't hinder them for enjoying what they read, smut I suppose is just something that doesn't click with me so my apologies there :<< - I'm not big on multiple chapter fics and I'm more of a oneshot person ^^; I have read a few here and there but with a busy schedule, it's hard for me to read multiple chapter fics and I want to enjoy and appreciate the work an author placed into their fic so I don't often read multiple chapter fics! So do expect all of these admittedly to be oneshots So with that here's I suppose a list of fics that I enjoyed <33 1. fine line by starsqwub - starting off with a multi-chapter fic xD but a very lovely and sweet one for that matter! I really love the writing style and the characterization. Akaashi pov of him yearning for Bokuto gets me all happy and it's honestly a well written story. Genuinely one of my favorites of all time <33 2. Frosted Breath by Oliver__Niko - bokuaka cute ice skating date! 3. Crisis 42 by ostentatiouslyrealistic - bokuaka being bokuaka during the festive Christmas season (ft. kuroken as well <33) 4. safe spaces by mysticTwirl - in where akaashi is the big spoon >:33 5. level of concern by chimera (emptyheadspace) - bokuaka sickfic !! 6. Drowning by letshiyori - I wouldn't be me if I didn't have a married bokuaka fic in here so married bokuaka fic here! Special mention to the one and only @mari-writes who makes lots of lovely bokuaka fics! I adore her writing style and characterization <33 My personal favorite is Gentle , do check out her ao3 she has a lot of wholesome and lovely bokuaka fics and I can't recommend her enough! Here's a link to her ao3: Mari_Writes This is honestly a short list and I want to apologize as well for it TvT I have a much LONGER list but my bookmarks are all over the place from years of reading bokuaka fics and I have yet to organize my fics so if there ever comes a time I have the willpower and time to make a gsheets I shall and share it here <33! Thank you again for the ask anon! Hope you have a lovely morning/afternoon/evening <33

#anon I am so sorry again for the delay TvT #thank you very much for the ask :'<<#bokuaka #eli rambles #Hoots

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smileymoth · 1 year ago

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@pikslasrce tagged me to post my top albums from this year :))

senses fail - still searching // armor for sleep - what to do when you are dead // senses fail -let it enfold you hollywood undead - hotel kalifornia // boysnightout - make yourself sick // wilbur soot - your city gave me asthma alesana - the emptiness // bedwetters - meet the f@cking bedwetters // bring me the horizon - sempiternal

do not ask me how many times i've listened to these 9 albums idon't even know myself. it's way too much though. i couldn't put all 4 boysnightout albums here so i just stayed at 1 and put it in the very middle because they altered my brain chemistry <33

senses fail gets 2 albums because i didnt spend weeks only listening to those 2 albums for no reason... their lyrics mean sm to me i want to illustrate the albums or songs one day. this goes for both senses fail and boysnightout btw. AND armor for sleep. there's something about that specific album. i realised i really enjoy albums that tell a story. and the fact that i like themes of angst love blood betrayal etc etc is no surprise either. car underwater got played way too many times

i discovered bedwetters thanks to eurovision, they were one of the options for estonia and i ofc found their old and only album (they released a new one a few weeks ago tho) (i dont know why they have 2 spotify accounts. im not asking). i even got to see them live bc they gave a free concert during summer <33333333 i got a picture with the band too !!!!! so cool

the new hollywood undead album got me back into them so im back to being obsessed. i love my silly california guys :3 i've been keeping up with them since and i desperately need to draw them again, this time without their masks!!!! im very glad that i found alesana to be sooo palatable this year because ive tried to listen to them before when i was a teenager and it just... didn't click, even if i tired. so yeah i get to fix that mistake now.

in spring i had a moment where i listened to sempiternal on repeat on the cd player for multiple days straight and in the past month i've, again, been listening to bmth and specifically sempiternal again so it gets a special place, too.

wilbur is just there because i had jubilee line stuck in my head so so so so much and also it's the best study music ever. also wilbur why is i'm sorry boris so silent. i can barely hear it it makes me angry so i always skip it. and then bc its the end of the album it gives me some lmanburg flag cover-art song that i don't like

anyway here's a special mention to these 3 albums because 1) greeley estates - caveat emptor, i just discovered it this week and i am in love. also greeley estates has been in my radar for quite some time now and i find the singers voice to be very pleasant and interesting? the tone does sth for me 2) brand new - deja entendu, for being stuck in my head for a good week because the tommy gun song wouldn't leave my head since it came on shuffle from my saved mp3 list when net was down 3) just surrender - if these streets could talk, because again i was obsessing over this for like a good week before i forgot about it. good album. not available in serbia tho for some reason

can you tell i love talking about music that i like. i know nothing about music it just makes me happy. :)

anyway i am tagging uhhhh @varteeny1234 and @complicatedsurgery and uhhh @cactusringed and uhhhh anyone else who wants + i'm not gona tag you, sly, because you only listen to alex g anyway <3

#moth post #music #tag game #good lord this ended up long #im not gona put it under read more bc look at my music boy

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manebioniclegali · 1 year ago

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Egotober Day 7: Leaf/Leaves

A/N: This is a continuation of last year's drawing with the same prompt! It's based off of a concept my friend came up with five years ago?! and the rest of us bounced ideas off of that spawned from some emoji mishaps. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: like 1.1k

~~~

The crunching of leaves underfoot is much louder than Cherie expects as she walks along the sidewalk. It seems that more trees got the message that autumn is approaching than usual. It's a nice change of pace, though. She grins to herself and deliberately steps on a large maple leaf with a satisfying CRUNCH. A surprisingly cool breeze brushes past her, encouraging the bounce in her step. Alone as she is out here, it's refreshing: just her and nature.

Well, it is just her and nature until she hears small noises. At first, she thinks it's just a squirrel, same as usual; but it sounds more purposeful, more like…talking?

Her brow wrinkles in confusion. That's not the conclusion she expected to draw, but it does sort of sound like talking, in a very distant sense. Cherie glances around, but the park is as empty as ever. She would think she’s going crazy if it wasn’t for the rustling of leaves at the base of a nearby tree that looks almost like an animal is hiding underneath it. She stops, watching it warily…only to see small figures emerge, between one to two inches tall, dressed in what looks to be blue shirts and tan pants. It’s a group of about fifteen to twenty, all wearing the same clothes and otherwise all looking alike. They look awfully familiar…then one of them looks at her, and it clicks who she’s seeing.

"Ant Jims?!"

Cherie's voice gets so loud and high-pitched at the end that the small Jims can’t help but take notice. “Generous Cherie!” the one in front says as they scuttle over. Cherie meets them part of the way, closing the distance quicker than them. “How honored are we to be in your presence after so long!”

Cherie smiles sheepishly as she squats down. She forgot how the Ant Jims were. “Hello!” she says, normal volume at first; then, remembering that they can't hear her, she repeats herself, pretty much yelling, "HELLO! It is good to see you again! How are you!?"

“We are well! We have had our festival, and it was another grand success, the same as years past! All have become accustomed to the lack of sacrifices. Our children are appreciative.”

Oh, right, the festival. To honor her and her friend for being so kind to the small beings. Which reminds her of something: "Are the sweaters still holding up?"

"Oh, yes! Still as warm as the day you so graciously gifted them to us, as warm as when you repaired the sweaters of our forefathers! We packed them in our jim-cases!” One of the Ant Jims behind the main one points to the tiny suitcase in his hand before she can question what a “jim-case” was. "It is much warmer here, so we took them off!"

"Yes, it certainly is! And Momma Jim will be glad to hear that they are still keeping you all warm." It was the gift of sweaters that enamored the Ant Jims to Cherie to the extreme, worshiping her as a goddess, of all things. "What are you doing all the way here, though? Your home is nowhere near here."

"We're setting out on our own!" The other Jims nod out of sync. "Establishing a new colony! For the good of Jim!"

"Ah yes, for the good of Jim!" She tries not to giggle. They're too cute. “How did you manage to get to travel such a distance? Was there not great danger?”

“Oh, yes, indeed there was. We lost a few great Jims. They will be dearly missed.” A couple of the Jims close their eyes and bow their heads. “But all was worth it for a glimpse of one of the Great Ones!”

“But how did you get here?”

“Oh! Apologies, I hope I did not displease you! We traveled here on the falling leaves, wherever the wind would take us! And walking. Lots of walking.”

“No, you did not displease me! All is well.” The walking makes sense, although she wonders how long it took them to get to her, then. Probably a good long while, with the method they chose.

“Oh, good! The stories were true, you are indeed merciful!”

If it wasn’t for the fact this was normal with them, she’d think they’re laying it on a bit thick. Cherie shuffles to get a bit more comfortable on her haunches. “Where shall you travel now?”

“We do not know, but surely we will know when we arrive! Do you have any suggestions, o wise one?”

Cherie, truthfully, does not. But she does have an idea. “Would you like some help with your journey? I can bring you along with me. I must return to my home soon.”

“Oh, what an honor! Oh, happy day! The goddess is granting us safe passage through this strange land!” One of the Jims whoops with joy, and they all jump around in celebration.

Now Cherie can’t help but giggle, and she almost doesn’t continue her yelling at first. “You may ride in and on my bag. I do not have very many places for you all to cling on to, so this will have to do. Take care not to get squished, and I shall take care not to jostle you all too much.”

“Oh thank you, thank you!”

Cherie moves her bag to in front of her, and the Ant Jims run towards it and jump on; one doesn’t quite make it like the others and has to simply climb from the bottom, looking a little bit embarrassed (probably for not sticking the landing in front of her). “We shall hold another celebration in your name! This day shall forever be remembered!”

You can’t stop an Ant Jim’s mind once it’s made up, in most circumstances, and this is no exception. And who is she to deny such festivities for such small Jims? “Sounds like a delightful time.” Cherie waits until it seems like everyone is settled, most of them with their arms over the sides holding themselves up at the edge, then says “Is everyone ready to go?”

“Yes, Generous Cherie!” is the chorus that makes its way up to her, almost normal volume with all of them speaking at once. Carefully, Cherie lifts up her bag, and while a couple Jims almost fall into the depths of the bag, no one falls out. Her bag is soon over her shoulder, and she sets off.

#the jims #egotober 2023 #egotober #wkm #markiplier #markiplier egos #ant jims #writblr #sab writes

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by-cdot · 4 months ago

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beware the water

- click for better quality -

After months of silence, I'm finally back with another post! Uni has been hard, art has been hard, LIFE has been hard. I usually don't keep up with the art accounts I've made over the years, after a few posts I get too embarrassed to go on, but I'm slowly getting over that. I've preached for years that building one's art skills is a process, to be patient and don't give up, but for the past few years, I haven't been following my own advice. Drawing stopped being fun for me as I began to compare myself to others. I grew impatient with my growth, I constantly wondered why I couldn't produce the exact image of what I had conjured up in my brain, and I just stopped. It's been a year since I've fully sat down, picked up my ipad, or even a pen and paper, and created something for my own enjoyment. (Coming from someone who drew every day and almost went to university for art, this is a big deal)

So here is my last completed artwork from a year ago. The last artwork I truly enjoyed creating.

I'm becoming inspired again. I want to create. For the two of you out there who will possibly read this to the end, thank you, and I hope you enjoy this new journey with me.

#artists on tumblr #digital artist #art #by cdot #cdot talks #small artist #drawing #digital drawing #deftones reference ahahaha #anyways yeah been super depressed! very anxious!#but im just gonna post whatever the f i want cuz!#art!#if anything I'll have like a dairy of my growth so #guys i promise i wont delete this one #*looks at my last 5 tumblrs ive erased from existence*

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affectiondeficitdisorder · 10 months ago

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SECONDS AND INCHES: Dodging the love addiction bullet.... maybe

by Ethlie Ann Vare

Okay, this is going to be very reductive. Below is a column I just published on my Substack, which is where you go now when you click on www.AffectionDeficitDisorder.com. It is all about the fact that people still find the blog on Tumbler, which surprises me, and still respond to it, which delights me. I did, however, put fresh art on it, so you do get something new if you've read all 12 1/2 years of this Tumbler. (12 1/2 years? Jesus...) It is, however, a picture I took backstage at the US Festival in 1983. So... nostalgia all around, today.

Here ya' go:

I just got a ping from my old Tumbler page, which for some reason is still active. Zoomer nostalgia, maybe? Someone liked a blog post that I wrote in September of 2011. It has aged remarkably well, considering... right down to the unreliability of AT&T. Here ya go. Enjoy all over again.

(The illustration is a picture I took of Steve Nicks at the US Festival in 1983, because I just found a pile of forgotten stuff from my rock journalist days and also because she’s kind of a patron saint of love addicts.)

The original post:

This newswire story landed in my inbox a few times, as you can imagine:

AMSTERDAM (AP) — Dutch prosecutors are charging a 42-year-old woman with stalking after she allegedly called her ex-boyfriend 65,000 times in the past year.

The 62-year-old victim from The Hague filed a police complaint in August due to the persistent phone calls. Police arrested the suspected stalker Monday, seizing several cell phones and computers from her home in Rotterdam.

Hague prosecution spokeswoman Nicolette Stoel said Thursday the woman argued to judges at a preliminary hearing she had a relationship with the man and the number of calls she placed to him wasn't excessive. The man denied they had a relationship.

The court ordered her not to contact him again.

It’s the kind of story that makes a love addict wipe her brow and exclaim, “See! I don’t have a problem. She has a problem.” It’s analogous to the feeling of relief a closet drinker has when a Skid Row wino cleans his windshield with a dirty rag. “See!” he smiles through the streaky window, “I don’t have a problem. He has a problem.”

Old joke:

Him: “Would you have sex with a stranger for a million dollars?”

Her: “A million dollars? Sure I would.”

Him: “How about having sex with me for fifty dollars?”

Her: “Are you nuts? What do you think I am?”

Him: “We already established that. Now we’re negotiating price.”

The point is… it’s all matter of degree. Fifty bucks is a whore; a million is a Demi Moore movie. Sixty-five thousand phone calls is a stalker; 65 is an episode of Gossip Girl. Where do you draw the line? Can you honestly say that you never called someone a second (or third) time when they didn’t return your call the first time? After all, they might have accidentally deleted your message. Or the cell phone might have cut out -- it’s AT&T; it happens. Or maybe they lost your digits. Or lost their phone. Or they did call you back, but you didn't get it because... um, it's AT&T. It’s amazing the excuses the addict brain will come up with and the urgency to which it attaches making that call.

I feel that Dutch woman, unable to go ten minutes without at least hearing the sound of his voice on his voicemail. I relate to that urgency; it's like drowning and suffocating at the same time. Withdrawal in love addiction is as physical and palpable as a nicotine fit, and she had a three-pack-a-day crush.

You might only smoke half a pack a day — that doesn’t mean you’re not a nicotine addict. Just because you don’t make 65,000 phone calls but only peek at his Facebook page sometimes… or occasionally drive past her house… or just happen to join the same gym… don’t think that none of this applies to you.

#love addiction #sex addiction #love addict #relationships #substack #stalker #obsessive love

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sesshy380 · 2 years ago

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🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

🌙 What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

Thanks for the ask! I had forgotten I reblogged an ask game before I went to bed lol.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

Wrapping up another hell chapter, and one scene coming out so amazing that I wanted to cry, because now I want to commission someone to draw the scene but I have no monies to spare 😭

Regardless, it was such an intense scene that something finally 'clicked' in my brain, and now I think my writing style is going to be a bit more consistent throughout the remainder of my longfic (fingers crossed!)

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

Ummm...so...many...ellipses...

And OC PoV chapters/too much OC focus atm.

Oh, and Marik currently being in a m/f relationship (I HC he's actually pan with a leaning preference towards asshole male presenting individuals)

🌙 What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

I answered this in another ask, so just gonna copy/paste my answer.

I do a lot in the later evening because that's usually the only time I have, but I prefer earlier in the day when the house is empty...which isn't something that happens as often as I like.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

I saved this one for last because my current WiP is a longfic chapter and I'm gonna hide below a cut. Keep in mind it's still WiP so flow/grammar edits are bound to happen before final posting. Just shy of 350 words. Small TW of Atem wanting to die (not in a self-inflicted way) directly below cut.

Atem felt defeated. He relaxed and closed his eyes again, silently praying Bakura would decide not to toy with him this time and just finish the job.

The blade at his throat shook.

“You’re not going to say anything?!” Bakura seethed.

“What’s there to say that you haven't? I’m a cold-hearted ass.”

Bakura’s irritated growl was the only warning he had as the blade left his throat and a mouth was crushed upon his.

Atem’s eyes opened wide as he tried to recoil away, failing to do so because Bakura was pressed too tightly. He quickly shoved the elemental back, swinging simultaneously. Fist met face, and the sound it made was satisfying to his ears.

Bakura stumbled back, his face one of shock as he brought his hand up to wipe away the small bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. He looked down at the crimson smear on his hand, then over at Atem, a sadistic grin slowly forming.

“That’s more like it! Let’s try this again now that you're a bit more lively,” Bakura said with a dark chuckle.

“What do you want from me?!” Atem shouted bitterly.

“Isn’t it obvious, Pharaoh? I want you to explain your heartless departure.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Bakura shook his head while tsking. “That may be true, but I’m not exactly asking for an answer. I’m demanding one.”

“And I’m refusing to give one,” Atem stated with a scowl.

Bakura stood up straight, his blade vanishing as he chewed the inside of his lip while slowly nodding in thought. “I see. So we’re gonna do this the hard way.”

He walked over to the wall of glass that overlooked the city and knocked on it. “Mal, you might want to get ready for a quick repair job.”

Bakura looked back at Atem, his grin becoming even more devilish than usual as his eyes began to glow bright. Atem could swear that a few tufts of hair had risen to take on the appearance of horns. “Hey, Pharaoh…can you fly?”

#ask game #answered asks #thank you for the ask!#it's 5am #why am i answering asks at this hour???#because i've lost all control of my life

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afteriwake · 2 years ago

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For your 25th -- Pondlock, bright red, 11

I went back to an old Pondlock series for this fic, "A Past Love." The prompt for this one was "She needed to proofread her work," and the 30 Day Writing Challenge prompt was "18. Use the title of the last song you've listened to," which happened to be "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!

Blank Space - Amy has insomnia before John and Molly's wedding and attempts to write, but finds she's blocked until Sherlock makes a suggestion.

READ @ AO3 | SERIES PAGE

Amy stared at the word document page open on her laptop. It was a blank space surrounded by the margins and the commands that the program used, because she was blocked. As a child she had made up stories about the Doctor and the adventures they would have had; now, as an adult, she had the urge to write something but nothing came. She couldn’t sleep after her trip with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Molly, and she’d gone to her laptop to toy with some ideas she’d had based on her adventures with the Doctor and the stories she’d made up as a child.

But her mind was drawing a blank at the words.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and pushing her glasses up. It was easy to write travel stuff that went with her modeling. Writing her speech for John and Molly’s wedding had been a snap. Writing lyrics to some of the compositions Sherlock had shared with her of his? Piece of cake. But trying to actually write was like dipping a sieve into her brain and watching all the good ideas run right back in.

Two hands on her shoulders told her she wasn’t alone anymore and she looked up to see Sherlock looking down at her. “Insomnia?” he asked.

“A bit. I just...traveling with the Doctor again inspired me, but I can’t get the words out. I know I was writing in the past, but now I just...can’t.”

“Maybe I can help,” Sherlock said. “Bring your laptop to the sitting room.”

Amy raised an eyebrow but did as he said, following the man she loved now to see what he could do. She took a few minutes to really study him; that was one thing John didn’t do in his blog entries was to really describe the way he looked, the way he moved with a feline grace, the way he held himself.

“You’re thinking about me the way a writer would,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“I am,” she admitted with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how John never describes you in his blog posts. But I could do it.”

“Then do it,” he said, gesturing to her favorite seat in the sitting room. “I’ll go make us some coffee because I’m awake too. I’m too nervous that something will go wrong with the wedding to sleep.”

“We’ll be no good to John and Molly if we’re zombies.”

“We just need to stand by their sides and make it through the reception. After that, we can crash.” He waited for her to sit before he went into the kitchen. “Write about me, and then try and write how you would describe the Doctor.”

“Which incarnation?”

“Whichever one you feel inclined to,” he said, filling the coffee pot up with water. “You aren’t used to this new incarnation, so I’d imagine you’ll have an easier time with the earlier one.”

She nodded and he continued to make coffee as she typed out first a description of Sherlock and after three full paragraphs moved onto the Doctor. Just picturing the mop haired older version made it easier, and by the time Sherlock brought her a cup of coffee sweetened to her taste she’s already moved on from descriptions to an actual story. He read over her shoulder for a moment, not interrupting her, and then kissed the top of her head and moved to his seat, picking up an old case file and looking it over. As the sun rose, she realized she had an entire chapter of a story loosely based on her childhood done. She needed to proofread her work soon, but having that much written was an accomplishment. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard, the blurred bright red shapes of her painted nails clicking on each key...she hadn’t felt this inspired in a long time.

Maybe something good would come out of it...

#doctor who #sherlock #wholock #pondlock #fanfic #fanfiction #my stuff #sherlock x amy #amy pond #sherlock holmes #afteriwake's 25th Anniversary Prompt-A-Thon #30 day writing challenge

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dourpeep · 4 years ago

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Howdy! Could I request a soft!dom!kazuha x sub!male!reader? I’ve noticed how little content there was for kazuha, especially the male readers. It could be a series of headcannons, a oneshot, Drabble— whatever you feel more comfortable with! :) I suppose thats all I need to complete the request?

And thus, the long awaited reply! My apologies for the long wait, dearest anon, but it's appropriate, in a way, to finish this the day that Kazuha's debuting!

I ended up writing a full-on fic because the woeful lack of Kazuha fics and even bigger lack of Kazuha x amab!Reader. And we can't have that, now can we? So without further ado, I hope you enjoy! :DD

Hold Me Tighter

Summary: A sweet, intimate night spent in the arms of the one you love.

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) Kazuha x amab!Reader, soft dom!Kazuha, sub!Reader, grinding, frottage, rimming, sweet & romantic

In the moonlight, you’re draped in the soft silence wearing a thin robe, watching the clouds make their journey across the endless dark of the sky.

Up here, standing on the balcony with the view of the city spread out like a million stars, you can breathe.

It’s nice. But not quite as nice as the familiar warmth of the hand that slips within yours and the lips that press so sweetly to your cheek. Kazuha settles behind you, wrapping his arms securely around you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Good evening, something on your mind?”

You lean to the kiss, then turning to rub your nose against his. This little home of yours feels warmer when he’s around.

“Not in particular...” Another kiss finds itself on your jaw just below your ear and he hums in satisfaction. “What are you doing, Kazu?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?”

His lips brush down to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access. They trail over your pulse and stop at your shoulder. Shifting, Kazuha reaches to gently move your robe to reveal more of your skin.

Then he stops.

The question of why dies on the tip of your tongue when he drapes your robe back in place, instead replaced by curious confusion.

“You should come back inside, this—” He mumbles, tugging at the thin, silky material of your robe. “Will make you catch a cold out here. The air tonight is brisk.”

So you follow him inside the warmth of your home, humoring his worry.

With you in the safety of his arms now, Kazuha hums with a satisfied smile. You lean back to rest against his chest, your hand sliding up to rest on top of one of his.

Breathing in deep, he noses at your hair, mumbling about the subtle smell of your shampoo. He was right, it’s much nicer to relax inside where the cool breeze doesn’t nip at your skin. Instead, the chill is replaced with the gentle heat radiating off of your lover and a comfortable ambiance.

But the soft silence only lasts so long with the telltale feel of fingers playing with the ties of your robe, a warm puff of breath brushing against the exposed skin of your neck. They leave and trail up to trace over your collarbone and the fabric partly covering it.

Throat bobbing, you relax as his other hand slides from under yours to guide the fabric away from your shoulder.

Before he can drag his lips along the newly exposed skin, you wiggle from his arms, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to the bedroom.

Clothing quickly finds its place in a pile on the floor, leaving no room between the two of you as you lay on your back.

Tender, Kazuha leans down over you, cock pressing to your thigh and lips melding against yours. You gasp into his mouth and buck your hips when his start to roll slowly against yours, grinding down on your own aching member.

With each bump of hips, you moan, tilting your head back.

“Kazuha…”

Dragging his lips over down to the fluttering pulse beneath the surface of your neck, he breathes you in, smiling against your skin. You’re warm, pleasantly so against the length of his body, and the hand that’s settled on your hip slides down to cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Languid, he pulls your hips up against the rhythm of his thrusts.

Every slide of his skin against yours feeds the growing desire but soon his hips stop and your brows furrow at the loss of friction.

Watching as he pulls away, sitting up, your eyes drift between you. Oh, you whisper, seeing the shine of precum spread over your cock and his, how it’s messily leaking over your stomach.

Your cheeks flare and he chuckles, removing himself from between your legs. “No need to be embarrassed. Can you turn around for me?”

Nodding, you shift, pressing your chest to the soft surface of the bed with your arms tucked beneath the pillow under your head. Immediately, his hands are back on you, rubbing up your thighs and massaging your ass. They waste no time in exploring the expanses of skin with teasing brushes and squeezes.

When he lowers himself down onto the bed, his lips meet the round of your ass with a kiss. His hands slide to cup each side.

Holding the soft flesh in his hands, he spreads them, leaning down to trail his lips from where his thumb settles besides your puckered hole. He swipes the pad over it, marveling over the shaky sigh the sensation draws.

He licks his lips and locks eyes with you, chuckling when you advert them and press your face against your arms.

Kazuha’s tongue traces along the sensitive seam beneath your shaft, hot breath puffing against heated skin. He can’t help the way that his lips knowingly curl up when your cock jumps at the feeling.

“Ngh..”

As he laps at the sensitive skin, he blows cool air gently only to place warm lips back. The shift in sensation draws a moan from your lips, though muffled by the pillow, then a gasp. A bite to your thigh trails back up to tease just beside your hole, waiting for a whine to slip before his tongue circles around it. Tensing, you arch your back to press closer to him.

“Patience, dove.”

But as soon as he says that he plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the way you breathe his name.

He works his tongue, thrusting it into you before pulling it away to swirl around your entrance. Eyes closed, he presses another kiss to one of your cheeks.

When Kazuha finally pulls away, a thin thread of saliva left between his tongue and you, he slides his hands from your ass up your back, leaning over you.

“Left drawer?” A few moments are spent missing the feel of him.

The cap of the bottle opens with a sudden pop.

“It’s a little cold, okay?”

You jump at the feel of the cold gel pressing to your hole, and he quickly apologizes. But the temperature is fleeting and soon warms as he circles his fingers around.

“I’ll just use one first.”

Gingerly, he squeezes out a bit more lube before his touch returns to you. His fingers aren’t particularly large, so the first slides in with some ease. It pushes in, to the first knuckle, waiting for you to relax before continuing. When you let out a breathy moan, he pushes it in all the way.

The way you squeeze around the single digit makes his head spin.

“You think you can take another already or should I relax you more?”

So aroused, you urge him to continue.

A second slick finger prods and pushes into you, his hand twisting so his palm is facing up. Already you’re tempted to move your hips, to take them in further. He starts pumping his fingers in you, spreading them to drag along your walls and coax you to relax. Each movement draws a sigh from your lungs and your eyes flutter closed.

“Feels nice…”

But he clicks his tongue, teasing. “Just nice?”

The aimless stretching turns into the slow, careful drag in and out, fingers curving to press just a bit more against your walls. Another crook and—

Oh! Judging by the way your laugh hitches and your hips tilt back, he tries to brush against that spot again. And again, and again, until you’re effectively fucking yourself on his fingers.

“Getting close? I want you to tell me, use your words.”

“Ye—yes- Kazuh—hahh-“

The knot in your stomach tightens and breaks as you tumble over your peak, cock messily leaking white onto the sheets below, and your body trembles at the intensity of your orgasm. A third finger presses in and massages you through the haze of pleasure, making you whine.

Just the three make you feel so full.

“Feels good now, hm?”

But the smug tone hardly registers when you’re so focused on the added pressure pressing into your ass. He continues fucking you with his fingers, prolonging your pleasure, only slowing to a stop when you sob his name and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

A shaky breath of relief accompanies the withdrawal of fingers.

Wiping his hand on his thigh, he settles besides you, kissing your shoulder and gently nuzzling his cheek against you.

“Was that too much…?”

You shake your head, still dizzy from your high. He shifts again, hardness pressed against you. But he makes no move to continue, instead smoothing his hand over your back in soothing motions. A few moments pass where he peppers you in gentle affection while you catch back up.

When you find the strength, you pull your knees up. Burying your face in the pillow, you mutter an okay.

“Relax for me…” He murmurs against your skin, kisses pressed along your spine to help calm you. “I’ll go slow.”

Guiding the tip of his cock along the cleft of your ass, Kazuha takes his time to swipe it along your taint. His heart pounds in his chest, urging him to hurry and feel you around his cock, and he’s sure that yours does the same. But he continues, deliberate, sliding back up your ass and back down. You press your face into the pillow to muffle a frustrated moan and he chuckles.

“Too slow?” You shake your head accompanied with the short chirp of a ‘no’.

When he finally presses against your ass, you’re relaxed and ready. With a murmur of your name, tender and sweet, he waits, letting you prepare. Lips on your shoulder, he carefully tilts his hips closer to yours.

And archons, the feel of him finally pushing past that first ring of muscle…

Kazuha watches the way you react, ruby eyes flickering over your back and thighs for any sign of discomfort. A sigh of relief puffs from his lips when you don’t tense up hard. Good.

“Keep going—”

Impatient tonight, then? But instead of laughing, since his own patience is being tested by the ache of his own desire, he hums and lowers his body to brush against yours.

Just a bit more and—

The sound that leaves your lips sends a rush of heat straight through his body.

“Mmnh!”

Ah, so he did find the right angle.

Focusing on shallow thrusts, he cants his hips back to hit that spot, each stroke slow. Every movement makes your head grow fuzzy and hips try and press back against his for more.

Drinking in your moans, Kazuha rubs and squeezes at your hip, murmuring sweet words of praise in your ear. You’re doing so well, taking him so well—

But right before the white-hot feeling of your pleasure spills over, he instead bottoms out in a fluid motion.

Frustration is quickly overridden by the realization of his hips pressed flush to your ass and his warm forehead between your shoulders. With the suddenness of your tight heat squeezing around him there’s only so much that he can do to will himself to calm down.

Blindly, one of his hands reaches for yours to intertwine fingers.

The cool of the air around you makes you so much more aware of the way heavy panting draws puffs of warmth against your skin, his lips just barely hovering over your flushed skin.

One second turns to five before his hips shift and start a slow pace and you melt against the sheets when he rolls his hips deeper, hips flush to hips.

Each thrust is so deliciously slow, his cock dragging against your walls and pressing up against that spot with every push back in.

Breath ghosts over your pulse as he rocks into you, pulling out and pushing back in entirely. Though the slight twinge of friction makes your breath hitch, the pleasure that washes over you quickly quells any discomfort. The feel of him going so deep with every movement leaves you gasping.

Slow, deep, he takes his time. Kazuha’s lips press to the back of your neck, blowing gently into your ear.

“Love you—”

As he murmurs, his hands travel along the length of your body, reaching to rub at your chest, at your thigh. His voice soft, he whispers these words like a prayer, over and over again as if their truth would only grow with each utter.

With the feel of you so tight around him, he can’t help but quicken his thrust, the slide of slick lube and your moans like music encouraging him. Your still intertwined hands press into the soft sheets of the bed, shifting with every meeting of his hips to yours.

He hits the spot again and you can’t help the plea that slips from you. “Touch me please-“

So he does, the hand on your hip sliding to meet your cock, teasing at your sensitive tip leaking precum and then up its length to wrap around your shaft. Every thrust makes it slip between his loose grip. Each thrust coaxing that familiar pressure to build within you.

You angle your hips more, closer to his. Though his hand leaves yours to grip your waist, he peppers kisses along your shoulders and whispers soft praise. So good, always so good for him.

The next brush against that spot makes you see stars and you’re left with shaking legs. When Kazuha pulls out of you, hissing at the way you clench around him in desperate attempt to make him thrust back in, the hand stroking you leaves.

“Wait—I’m so-“

He presses his cock between your spread legs, tip teasing against your shaft. He guides you to press your thighs together. Chest flush against yours, he thrusts quicker, gripping both of your cocks and stroking to the pace of his hips.

His moans pick up, raspy with need. So close—

Movements quickly become sloppy and his hand squeezes around both shafts to draw another moan from him and a gasp from you, edging closer and closer. The tension builds fast.

With a final slam of his hips against yours, pushing his cock between your soft thighs, he cries out your name and comes undone with warm white painting his hand and the sheets below you. Though sensitive, he weakly thrusts and continues to slide his hand along your shaft until you too feel the pressure in your belly snap and your spend mingles with his.

You let yourself collapse on the bed with limbs pleasantly numb, bringing a startled Kazuha along with you.

Ignoring the way your cum puddles beneath you, you laugh even though you’re already breathing hard as is. He rolls off from on top of you.

“Bath?”

While you try to catch your breath, your lover takes the hand closes to him in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. It brings heat to your cheeks.

“Yes please.”

So after a few blissful moments spent just laying besides each other, you’re settled in the bath with Kazuha beside you. The hot water burns pleasantly against your skin.

Dragging a soft towel up along your arm he gently wipes, every movement slow and steady. The suds the cloth leaves smell sweet, light. When he finishes wiping the sweat and grime from you, his lips press to your temple.

“Want me to wash your hair?” A hum of approval from you is all he needs to hear before he carefully cups some of the water to pour over your head. “Close your eyes—”

It flows, wetting your hair and flowing over your features in little rivulets.

The pop of a cap follows as soon as he’s satisfied with his work.

As soon as his hands find their way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp, you can’t help but lean further into his touch. Kazuha chuckles, the sound pleasant in the way it reverberates in the room. He’s always so attentive, so soft.

Sighing, you smile, basking in the afterglow and comfort that he provides, morning still far ahead.

#anon asks #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact #genshin impact fics #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact smut #hehehee just in time for Kazuha's debut #dom!Kazuha #genshin impact x male reader

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ryosmne · 4 years ago

Text

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #au ryomen sukuna #au sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you

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jenoismydad · 4 years ago

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hello, can i request nct dream reaction to s/o kissing their neck a lot? tysm 🧡

A/N: adding jisung but nothing sexual for his part okay :) reaction is under the read more

NCT DREAM’S REACTION TO YOU KISSING THEIR NECK

mark

he’s just playing his guitar

when you come up behind him and rest your head on his shoulder

he smiles to himself but doesn’t stop strumming

your arms wrap around his waist and start pressing light and warm kisses onto his shoulder

he doesn’t react to your actions and continues playing

eventually, your kisses start trailing up his neck

and soon enough your sucking small marks into it

he absentmindedly tilts his head to give you more access

the melodies he plays become simpler and quieter

which tells you that you he’s focusing on you now

when you halt your kisses, the music stops

he turns to look at you

so you use it as an opportunity to crash your lips onto his

he pulls away and stares at you knowingly

“you’re horny aren’t you?”

you don’t even need to answer him because he knows he’s correct

he smirks and places his guitar to the side, pulling you onto his lap instead so that he can give you what you want

renjun

he’s sound asleep, peacefully napping in the middle of the day

you’re bored and you have nothing to do

plus, you might just be craving his cock after the wonderful night you spent with him

so after minutes of contemplating, you peel the blanket off his body and straddle him, careful not to wake him up

staring at his face as he rests, you can’t deny how breathtakingly beautiful he looks

so you press a soft kiss to his temple

then to his cheek

next his jaw and after that, his neck

he’d marked you up pretty well last night so you figured the least you could do was return the favour

and hence you softly suck on his exposed skin, running your tongue over the faint bruises your created

it makes him stir in his sleep

that doesn’t matter to you though and you continue doing what you’re doing

finally, he wakes up, hands flying to grip your waist as he assess what’s going on

he sits up, bringing you with him and cups your jaw

“i guess last night wasn’t enough for you huh?”, he says in amusement

he then pushes you down on the bed, fingers hooking straight into your shorts which he peels off with ease

content to see that you’re not wearing anything else underneath, he shares one last look with you before diving in between your legs and making you scream

jeno

he’s playing video games

well he has been for the past 4 hours

and you’re having serious separation anxiety even though you’ve been in the same room as him for so long

he leans back, yawning tiredly while stretching his body

you take that as an opportunity to come up behind him and give him a hug

he smiles and pulls you onto his lap where you return to hugging him again

his game resumes, fingers aggressively clicking away at the keyboard

you kinda want him to stop playing and more attention to you

so you decide to distract him by kissing his neck

he doesn’t react and so you keep kissing him

eventually small pecks turn to wet open mouth kisses

before you know it, you’re sucking dark marks into his skin while your hips roll over his

his breaths start getting deeper so you know you’re having quite the affect on him

soon enough, he switches the computer off and pushes his chair back, unable to control himself any longer

“get on your knees”, he speaks, voice low and raspy

you don’t hesitate to confide, doing as he says without wasting a second

he stands up from the chair, freeing his cock from its restraints

“keep your mouth open and take me like a good girl.”

haechan

you both are cuddling in bed

you’re laying on top of him, face snuggled comfortable between his neck and shoulder

he’s telling to you about what happened when he’d gone to visit his family

but you stopped paying attention ages ago

his skin is warm against your lips and you can feel the faint beating of his heart

the sensation is transfixing

and you just can’t resist any longer

so you kiss his neck

he pauses

his fingers that were drumming on your back too come to a halt

“aren’t you gonna do it again?”, he asks

you push yourself up and look at him with a happy smile

“did you like it?”, you ask, leaning down to kiss his lips

just as your about to pull away, he cups your jaw, bringing your mouth back on his

“it was fine, but i prefer getting kissed here.”, he says, puckering his lips dramatically

the action makes you both burst out into a fit of laughter

pecking his lips one last time, you lay your head on his chest, smiling to yourself

jaemin

you asked him to help you organize your closet

so now he’s busy hanging up your coats and jackets

meanwhile your hugging him, humming random tunes into his neck and giving him a few kisses here and there

you might even have marked him up just a bit

he pays you no mind and continues about his task as if you aren’t clinging onto him

that is, until you softly sink your teeth into his skin

he freezes and looks down at you cautiously

“did you just bite me?”

instead of answering him, you stand up on your toes and kiss him, biting his bottom lip as you pull away

something just flips in him when you do that

letting go of the clothing hanger in his hand, he narrows his eyes and holds you close

“what are you up to?”, he asks, voice low and demanding

you don’t say anything, enjoying his demeanor more than you’d ever like to admit

“come on, say something. if you don’t i’ll just have to suck it out of you.”

the suggestiveness in his voice is exciting and so you decide not to give in

nothing needs to be said further and he picks you up, throwing you on the bed

he tugs his shirt off before hovering over you and leans down so that his lips ghost over your ear

“since you don’t feel like talking, i don’t want to hear a word from you. if you make a single noise, then i’m sure you’re smart enough to know what to expect.”

chenle

you both are playing a game where you kiss each other somewhere and the person who reacts first is the loser

the penalty is that the loser gets a hickey from the winner

for your turn, you decide that you’ll attack his neck

cause you know he’s the most ticklish and sensitive there

you also know the exact spot where he’s the most sensitive

using this knowledge to your advantage, you press a long kiss on his skin

his hands ball into fists on either side of him and you know he’s trying hard not to give in

but the way you’re kissing his neck is so tantalizing and he can’t help but let out a shaky breath

you draw back and point at him, beaming excitedly

you’d won the game

he groans defeatedly and falls to the ground

“now sir, where would you like to be marked.”, you ask giddly, dancing about

he tugs his shirt down and looks at you with a smirk

“here please.”, he says pointing to his collar bone

you return his smirk and sit down next to him, licking your lips as you prepare to deliver your token of victory

“scandalous, i like it.”, you giggle, leaning down and sucking a dark bruise on his skin

let’s just say that he didn’t mind returning the favour

jisung

while you’re busy finishing your homework, he’s laying on your bed with his nose stuffed in the game he’s playing on his phone

once you feel like you’ve done enough for the day, you come and sit down next to him

he’s still very much occupied in the game so he pays you no mind

you decide to be cheeky and lay down next to him, cuddling into his side

he doesn’t react to your proximity and so, you snuggle your face into his neck

he freezes for a moment, but once he gets accustomed to the ticklish feeling of your breath on his skin, he resumes his game

that’s when you stick your tongue out and subtly lick his neck

the action makes him jolt and he looks down at you with wide eyes

you only smile at him and reach up to quickly kiss his lips

which makes him go red in the face because you caught him off guard

he gets back to his game and you start dotting kissing on the space of his neck

he keeps flinching because it tickles but he doesn’t complain

he actually likes it very much and would like for you to continue

eventually, you get tired of his unresponsiveness

so you begin peppering kissing on his jaw, his cheeks and his nose

soon enough, your straddling him, staring into his eyes with a knowing grin

he tosses his phone to the side and cups your cheek, pulling your lips down on his and simply kisses you for hours on end

3K notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

mistletoe magic | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,490

summary; stiles learns that his cute neighbour might be a witch after accidentally getting her spellbooks delivered to him instead.

notes; I know a witch!au isn’t a huge au for stiles, because he’s had evident races of magic throughout the series anyway, but just enjoy it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, use of magic

It had been a pretty regular Monday morning for Stiles.

At six sharp, he’d been up and awake, barely functional but stumbling through his apartment and clicking on the coffee machine, before hopping into the shower for a quick wash. When he’d emerged, the machine had just finished grinding, as always, his routine functioning like a well-oiled machine now, and he’d moved it all across into a to-go cup and left it on the counter before going to get dressed.

He’d stumbled around to find his school books and shove them into a bag, eaten two cinnamon pop tarts that had burned the tips of his fingers when he’d grabbed them straight from the toaster, and had still been chewing as he shoved his keys in his pocket and sipped at his coffee, straight into the elevator at twenty to seven.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across campus to his early morning lecture on a Monday, leaving him with a few minutes to spare, in case he saw the sweet older lady from two floors down and wanted to say ‘hi’, or the cute neighbour who lived across the hall that always made him fall over his own feet, or maybe even the kid who delivers newspapers and is always falling off of his bike. He made it on time, took some great notes, and was feeling a little more alive and welcome into his day.

At exactly ten past one, he’d been home, having gone to the library to get some study in and find his new books, and get lunch at the diner he always ate at after classes, a cheeseburger and curly fries, and grabbed his letters and a parcel from the mail slot with his housing number printed on, tucking the package under his arm and heading upstairs and back to his flat, ready to flick through his bills.

All according to plan. One year and four months away at university and he knew every day like he’d been doing it for a decade, so he was only half-way to the kitchen when he remembered the package he was clutching under his arm, coming to a complete halt, throwing the usual assortment of envelopes away to the counter, and producing the neatly wrapped bundle.

He didn’t question it, not even bothering to look at the front, figuring it was just an early delivery on the textbooks that he wasn’t expecting to get here for another three weeks, finger slipping under the folds of the brown paper and tearing it away, fingers dancing over the covers of the books, before his brows were furrowing once again.

These were definitely not his ‘intro to psychological profiling’ textbooks.

Beautiful swirls in gold, carved into dark leather across the front, Latin words he didn’t understand before he was opening the cover, brushing off a layer of dust and letting one brow arch up. The text inside was English - though, no modern - and paper that he was cautious to take care of, simply from what appeared to be the age of it, stained and worn, finger marks clear on the corner from being passed down through generations. It was handwritten, drawings in old ink that had leaked onto the paper a little, rough and coarse, and labelled doodles with names he had never heard of before.

At a glance, he would assume it to be some kind of witchcraft.

He felt on edge, suddenly. He’d left Beacon Hills to come to somewhere that no supernatural would follow, where things like werewolves were still a myth, something to be laughed at, and he swallowed thickly, looking around his apartment as though someone was going to jump out. He loved his friends, he really did, and he didn’t so much mind the supernatural when he was with them all because they protected him, but alone out here, he and his bat didn’t stand a chance.

Now, it was Christmas, he knew this from the poor excuse of a tree up in his living room, and the snow outside, and the fact that for the last six weeks, his usual mochas had been a gingerbread-spiced mocha, on the insistence of the barista who served him whenever he ventured into the little coffee shop joint, and he was growing find of it. So, he tried to be optimistic, in the spirit of festivities and all that, and texted the group chat, waiting to see if any of them had sent him the books as a present, maybe even his father or Melissa. He even texted Parrish.

Except, they all said no, and now, he was stumped. Then, as he was being extra nosey and flicking through the book, he came across a page marked with a small slip of card, the item falling out, and he cursed, having no idea which page it came from, but as he picked up the piece of paper, one of the questions in his puzzle finally gained another piece towards the jigsaw.

‘(Y/N), the spell you’re looking for is here, but be careful, it’s a strong one.’

So, the books are for his hot neighbour, the next number up from his, and it now made sense as to why he had these books - they were a mistake. It opened a new question, however, as to why you would be getting them.

He had absolutely no patience, barley remembering to flick the catch on his door so that he’d be able to get back inside, before he was striding across the hall in one, two steps, and knocking on the wood. He could hear you shuffling around inside, the soft and muffled notes of the classic rock music you’d been listening to getting turned right down to low. It only took you a further few seconds until you were opening the door, but it felt like years to him with his impatience, fingers tapping against the books agitatedly, biting the nail of the other thumb, and his foot was tapping against the floor.

When you opened the door, though, he felt like it was too soon, like he wasn’t prepared for what to say, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart leapt in his chest, eyes sweeping down along your body and widening at your bare legs, only a t-shirt hanging on your frame, rising up to reveal the edge of a pair of white lace panties as you opened the door, and he forced his eyes back up to yours, wincing as he bit down a little too harshly on his nail, and pulled it from his mouth, shaking it as his dropped to his side.

“Hey, neighbour.”

“H-Hi. Hello. Yes, hi.” He already wanted to die a little bit, he hadn't stuttered this much in front of a pretty girl since junior year in high school, even Lydia had lost this effect on him, and college really had been a growing experience for him. He’d had a fair few hook-ups, and experimented, and he wasn’t shy about flirting when he wanted to, but you always through hi right back through loops, like he was still that kid with a buzzcut.

“What can I do for you, four-A?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles.” He waited for the usual reaction, the cringe, the eyebrows shooting up, the scowl, something to indicate that you had actually heard the pronunciation, but you only smiled a little wider.

“I know. After I introduced myself and you fell over and didn’t give me your name, I checked the mail in your post-slot. I was curious. There was a lot addressed to Mieczysłav, but then one with a handwritten address to Stiles.” You shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, and crossing your arms, and while you might seem casual, at least his degree was coming in useful for something, as your body language read an entirely different reaction, insecurity and worry rolling off of you in invisible waves of tells.

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing slightly. “That sounds like something I would do.”

Silence fell between you both for a second, and he couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of your face, the way your lower lip was a little reddened, and he figured you must have been nibbling on it while working, and your hair was messy, an attempt to pin it back that seemed to have come loose and entirely ineffective, presumably from dancing, because you looked a little flushed. When you raised your brows at him a little, he realised you were waiting for him to explain himself, why he was on your doorstep, and he flushed with embarrassment shaking his head clear.

“I got your spellbooks by mistake.” He held them out, eyes widening even more, before his jaw was dropping open. “Book. Regular books. Not spell books, because that would imply magic, right? And, that’s dumb. Just regular books. I didn’t look at them, at all, not even a little bit, I promise.”

“You don’t believe in magic, then?” You took them from him, a coy smile on your lips, and you placed them down on the counter beside the door, pushing a bowl of potpourri getting pushed aside, along with your car keys and what looked like an incense burner.

“Do you?”

He was testing the water, seeing where your mind was at, and as a whistling came from your kitchen, you glanced back over to the kettle on the hob, and he thought this conversation might be about to come to an end. “Well, I think there’s always a little magic in life, even if people don’t notice it. You have to believe in magic to be able to see it. It’s like the supernatural that way.”

“And, you believe in the supernatural, huh?” He felt bad for the way he said it, because it was mocking, but he had to be sure that you weren’t messing with him, or spying on him, he had to try and find out who you were, but you only looked away as the whistling got louder, opening the door a little more and waving him inside as you walked away, and he stumbled after you and closed the door before his mind had even caught up with the movement of his feet.

Your apartment was littered with plants. The windowsills were lined with them, all brought green and blooming, even though he was sure it wasn’t the right season, and there was even a set of cactuses along a shelf near the corridor. There was a homey feel to your place, almost earthy, neutral tones and soft accents, a smell that was so calming he felt his own muscles begin to relax, and the music had changed from classic rock to some country song he was sure he’d heard in a movie somewhere but couldn't quite place it, and he followed you to the kitchen.

Rows of cookbooks and recipe folders stacked up on top of a lower cupboard, and he swallowed thickly, averting his gaze from the way your lace panties hugged your ass deliciously as you reached up for a mug, bringing back two, and pouring them both full of the herbal concoction you’d been making. On a mismatching saucer, you offered it to him, and he sniffed it carefully, but remembered his manners, mumbling a ‘thank you’, because his mother raised his right, even if he was a little suspicious of you.

“Relax, Stiles, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t be giving you tea made of Valerian and Lemon Balm. Do you want any honey, honey?” You grinned a little at your joke, but he shook his head, watching as you stirred a spoonful of the sticky sweetener into your own, and taking a tentative sip after blowing on the surface. It wasn’t all that bad, he had to admit, and he found his tensions slipping away a little. “It’s for relaxing, and helping with sleep.”

“It’s good.” You smiled, blowing lightly on your own, and he decided that he could busy himself by checking out your posters. An interesting arrangement, one was a band poster, the other was a chart with the phases of the moon, a third with diagrams of plants and little facts underneath, and the fourth, with symbols and drawing he didn’t quite understand. “So, you’re really embracing that whole witch thing, then?”

“Well, seeing as I am a witch, I would think it’s only appropriate.” He tried to hide his grin behind his mug, shaking his head a little, not believing that they really existed, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes, clearly, because there was a playful kind of offence flashing across your face. “You can’t tell me you think I’m insane, not when there’s so much of the supernatural all over you, Stiles.”

“The supernatural? Really?”

“So, you’re not the emissary to a pack of werewolves?” You challenged, his jaw dropping at the accuracy of it, and it was your turn to laugh at him. “It’s literally stitched into your aura, I sensed another supernatural the second you walked into the building.”

“I just associate with a lot of ‘em, but I’m not supernatural myself.”

“You sure about that?” He stilled, memories flashing behind his eyes of a time when he once was, and you seemed to pick up on the slightly sour mood he’d taken on, then again, he wasn’t really sure where your abilities lay, being that Scott or Derek would have simply sniffed it out on him. Your hand on his arm snapped him back to the moment, fingers squeezing lightly at his bicep. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There was a possibility, once, but it’s gone. There’s a dark chapter in my past, and the spark I was told I once had disappeared when I got through it.”

It went quiet again after that, your fingers slipping down from his arm to take his, and you placed your cup down, the steaming brew barely touched, but he followed suit, letting himself be pulled along as you directed him back to the living room. You were distracting him, it was an obvious ploy, but he was excited to learn, and he let the sadness of remembering his possession fade away as the thrill of new knowledge took over. “I can tell you have a lot of questions, so, what do you want to know first?”

He rubbed at his chin, settling down onto the couch at the edge of the room, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and you were busying yourself around him, a little water jug in your hand as you nurtured the abundance of houseplants you owned. “How did you know about my pack? And how much do you know about them?”

“It’s in your aura, I suppose. I can just pick up hints of different things when you’re around. The wolves are obvious, I’ve been around a lot of wolves. I also get death, and I've never met a banshee, but I assume that’s what it is. I knew you were the emissary because you’re the only magic in there, I would sense other traces on you, and there’s something else I can’t quite place.” Your face screwed up a little bit as you thought about it, nose wrinkling adorably before shrugging. “Like a werewolf, but not quite. I can’t get it.”

“She’s a werecoyote.”

You paused your pouring, turning to look at him, eyes flicking lightly around his being, before smiling slightly to yourself, and going back to your task. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Have you been a witch your whole life?”

“Since the day I was born, but I didn’t know or start practising until I was older. It just kinda’ happens, comes out of nowhere at a certain age, you start to realise you have abilities.” You had moved onto using a dropper to give little drips of water to cacti and succulents, standing on a small step stool as you did.

“Do you have to go to a school, like Harry Potter? Do you have a wand?”

You laughed at that, a genuine and hearty laugh, and you finished up your tasks, legs folding underneath yourself and you smirked a little at him as you sat down and got comfortable. “You wish, Stilinski. It’s not like that, it's more of an earthly connection than magic. It’s why my plants are so healthy. I can brew stuff, make little potions-” You motioned a hand over the jars lining the shelves on the walls, his eyes scanning over each one, picking out the neatly written titles across the fronts. “-I can cast very light spells, but it’s not the sort of thing where you can curse people, or teleport.”

“So, you can’t curse people to turn into frogs?”

“No, unfortunately not.” He was sure your giggle was the sweetest he’d ever heard, and he dared to twist himself around a little more, inching slightly closer to you across the couch. “I can do some stuff, like make your skin break out or give you a rash that won’t go away until I let it, and I can even give you headaches and such, but I don’t like to dabble in that sort of stuff. I much prefer protection charms.”

“Protection charms?” His heart skipped a little beat at the way your face lit up as you nodded, and he was intrigued, interest piqued. “I could use one of those, y’know, I’m incredibly clumsy and often get into supernatural trouble when I’m home. Hasn’t been so bad since I got here. Will you make me one?”

Your eyes left him, bottom lip nibbled between your teeth, and for a second he had worried he’d messed up, unsure on how witch spellcasting etiquette worked, but then you were moving across the room, opening up the cabinet on the other side of the room, and inside the doors and wooden frame hung what must be close to a thirty different decorative charms. Some were dreamcatchers or garlands hanging on the inside of the door, others were handcrafted little ornaments sitting on the shelves and filling them up, and your fingers were flittering over them all.

When you found what you were looking for, you lifted it out, a dream catcher that was bright and colourful and a little odd-looking, before bringing it back over to him, and presenting him with it cautiously. “You already made me one?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the cute guy from across the hall get any more injuries. I watched you fall over five times in your first week living here. You’re really clumsy.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, and yet he couldn't help the goofy grin that travelled across his features, not mentioning the fact that he noticed you sitting considerably closer to home when you took your seat once again. He was embarrassed for two reasons, the first being that you had noticed his innate penchant for ridiculous injuries, but more overwhelmingly, the second being that you still thought he was cute. College might have helped him bloom a little, but when he had a crush, he was still a bumbling mess, and he didn’t know quite how to respond.

He busied himself with taking in the details of the dreamcatcher. Somehow, despite this being the first real conversation that the two of you had ever had, passing and fleeting chats in the halls and elevator not counting, you had managed to capture his entire essence, he could already tell. The strings were made of wool, chunky and all different colours, a mix of yellows and blues, woven in together and tangled in strange patterns, but beautiful nonetheless, and the little accents were what made it complete.

A button that had fallen off of one of his flannels, he recognised the distinctive wooden piece, and it was woven into the design, along with a blue ribbon in the same colour of the jeep that was tied in a bow, and a wooden twig tangled in it. Dangling on more pieces of wool from the bottom was a keyring he was sure he’d lost after leaving it downstairs overnight, the Yoda on it looking cleaner than he remembered, and you must've cleaned it. There was also a black feather, and a sprig of some kind of dried herb that he didn't recognise, but enjoyed the smell anyway.

It was intricate and personal, and he felt chuffed just to know that you’d made one for him, a little security and peace washing over him to know that someone was out here looking after him, completely unmaliciously, simply because you wanted to.

“This is incredible.” You let out a breath of relief, he recognised it in the way your body slumped a little, and he placed it down carefully on the coffee table beside you both, reaching out to take your hand in his, and daring to lace your fingers together and squeeze in gratitude, and you held onto him yourself, gaze dropping down to your connected hands. In a bold move of your own, you lifted your other hand, holding onto his with both of yours, and his thumb lifted out to brush lightly over your skin. “You’re the reason I don’t get papercuts and splinters anymore.”

“And you are very welcome for that.” You teased him back, and an easy kind of harmony fell between you both, your presence being more comfortable simply having only just really begun to meet you than he ever had been with someone new. It was strange, to feel so relaxed and at home with you, the way you put his fears at ease and soothed every worry without even trying, making him feel welcome and accepted, like he’d known you for years, not just shy of an hour. “Will you tell me about your pack?”

“You really want to know?” He couldn’t mask his surprise, and you nodded, excitement gleaming in your eyes, and he felt a surge of pride swell up in his system at the idea of getting to boast about his friends completely honestly for the first time in his life. There was no threat, he wasn’t showing off their skills as a way to try and ward off a threat or intimidate someone, but he simply wanted everyone else to be as awed by them as he was, and he didn’t have to hide any supernatural secrets from you. “Shall I start at the beginning?”

“Is it a long story?”

“Very long.” He confirmed, a shy laugh leaving you, before you were shifting again.

“How about I go and make us some fresh tea, then?” You were on your feet, wandering away to the kitchen as soon as he’d offered his affirmations of the idea, and he decided to follow after you, already beginning to blather about Peter Hale.

Hours seemed to pass by, as he spoke to you, two more pots of tea being made, and you’d broken out your snack-store for him, before the two of you had ordered pizza. He’d made himself at home, too, keys and phone sitting abandoned on the table, shoes kicked off on the floor, and feet stretched out along the couch. You were sitting at the opposite end, your legs stretched out in his direction, and one of his hands was sitting on your ankle, fingers drawing patterns on the soft skin there absentmindedly as his other hand was used to gesture wildly around himself.

He told you it all, confessing right from the beginning as he encountered Derek Hale, who liked to lurk in the woods, which had made you crack up as he told you about how the man was basically now the alpha, even if Scott was officially the alpha, and he’d told you about Jackson’s kanima phase, which had made you crack up even more as you claimed he deserved it.

You’d been shocked by his homicidal English teacher, and comforted him when he spilled his heart to you over the nogitsune incident he hated to think about, accepting your hush happily, and revelling in the smell of your hair when you’d pressed in close to him, before retreating to your seat.

He told you all about the benefactor and the dread doctors, and about Allison’s death, which he still blamed himself for when he was on a low day, and you’d used your thumb to clear away the tear that had fallen from his cheek, leaving him blushing and breathless for a second when you’d pressed a light kiss to his cheekbone just after.

You had scooted closer to him and stayed there near the end of his tales, tucked under his arm, playing with his fingers over your shoulders as he rambled about how alone he’d felt while taken by the Wild Hunt, thoughts that he’d always kept locked up in his own mind, never having shared with another person before.

“You really got the short end of the ‘supernatural encounters’ stick then, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the understatement of the century.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, your feet nudging together on the coffee table, the reindeer themed fluffy socks on your feet playing with the patchy and worn door knitted socks he’d had for years, worn to keep warm during the winter, even though your apartment was nice and toasty, the heaters running and the radiators on, and it was much cosier than his place had ever been.

The Christmas lights on a timer had come on, flickering around the place once the light had started fading, hours flashing by in the blink of an eye, a hazy glow cast over the apartment and creating a whole new range of shadows. “Do you want me to make charms for your friends?”

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to discern whether you were serious, and when he caught no gesture of ill-will, or hesitation, or hidden-motives, he smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Seems like you all need it.”

He shrugged a little, smiling when you rested your forehead against his, fingers playing together still, but feet stilling in their game of footsie. “I can’t believe I waited this long to get to know you. You’re, like, the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't’ help it, noses bumping together as you both simply drowned in the moment, in what the moment was leading up to, where you both knew this was going but were revelling in the simple but exhilarating tension that was crackling with electricity in the millimetres of space between your lips and his. You were so close to him that he could feel it more than hear it when you whispered some words he didn’t quite understand, your breath fanning over his face in a dreamy sigh, and it took his hazed brain a second to catch up, before he was pulling back just enough to catch your eyes, one hand coming up to rest over your cheek as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, my God. Did you just cast a spell?”

“Look up.” He was hesitant to pull back much further, but did so anyway, and he chuckled slightly as he spotted the little green plant beginning to sprout from the ceiling. Vines were still strengthening along the beam, and the leaves were beginning to form right before his eyes, white berries hanging between the green stems, and Stiles shook his head, in complete awe as he looked at it.

You were staring up to, eyes focused on the plant as it bloomed and he assumed you were concentrating on its development, but he couldn't hold back anymore, two hands on your cheeks, pulling your face back to his, and your lips barely parted to speak before his mouth was colliding with your own. A squeak left you, and he wanted to grin at being able illicit such a sound from you, but the temptation to kiss was just enough for him to contain himself. When your mind finally caught up, you were kissing him back just as eagerly, a soft sigh leaving you. “You are fucking adorable.”

The words were whispered into your mouth, he felt you shake with a soft laugh under his hold, before you were holding onto him just as tightly in return. One of your hands wrapped around his wrists, the other sliding over his bicep to his shoulder, before slipping down underneath, and smoothing over the front of his chest. He puffed out a little under your touch, pulling away for a quick breath, groaning slightly at the way your nails dug into his skin as he did, and then, he was diving right back into you.

Your hand slipped down to rest over his heart, the organ thudding under your hand, and he felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest, but as he pressed a little further into you, a shock like an electrocution was racing right through his body, a kind of jolt that was thoroughly exhilarating, and he pulled away, eyes wide as he stared at you.

You looked just as shocked as he expected he did too, his hands dropped down as he watched sparks and electricity crackle between your fingers and his, your brows raising at him. “Thought you said you had no magic left after.. y’know..”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, your fingers weaving with his, a loud snapping sounding as a particularly bright flare went off, and he flinched a little, jaw dropping and a whine slipping from him as you contained it all the sight disappeared before his eyes. “So, there really are sparks flying between us, huh?”

He regretted the words the moment he’d said them, expecting to see on your face the same kind he’d always gotten from Malia or Lydia when he made those kinds of cheesy puns that only he enjoyed, even Scott daring to fix him with a bored or blank look, and Derek would simply glare, but much to his surprise, you laughed. It was fond, with a roll of your eyes and a huff to preempt it, but you laughed nonetheless, and he felt himself somehow manage to brighten even further. “That was cheesy.”

“I know.” He beamed, shifting a little, hands sinking down to your hips to pull you closer to himself as he settled back into the couch, and your hand pressed to the cushions beside his head, the other one coming up to weave into his hair lightly.

“I loved it. I am quite a fan of puns.”

“That’s good, because I usually have a lot of them.” He leaned up, daring himself to be bold enough to close that gap once again, and he could feel your lashes tickling his cheeks as you nuzzled into him a little more. “If I kiss you again, will those sparks happen this time, too?”

“If I stop controlling it, they will.”

“Stop controlling it, sweetheart.” He felt you move to nod your affirmations, but dipped his head in time, proud of his own reflexes as he caught your lips, feeling the hand in his hair tighten, and he was so glad he’d decided to grow it out all those years ago, because right now, he was losing all sense of himself in the way your nails would scratch across his scalp, or the delicious burning that flared over his skin for a split second when you pulled on his hair, before you were rubbing it softly, fingers working in tandem timing with your lips, teasing over his own.

That same feeling took up, a sparking that felt like fireworks, like energy surging through him, escaping at his fingertips in every place that he touched you, one palm smoothing along your back to somewhere that was definitely too lose to be respectable, as the other held onto your cheek still. You were taking control, your tongue darting out to trace over his lower lip, bribing him to part them but he needed no convincing, letting your tongue meet his own only a second after you’d made the request, equally breathy and needy noises escaping you both at the slow and wet drag of the muscles over one another.

His lungs were burning, lips beginning to sting as his assault on your mouth continued, his neck straining to hold this angle, and yet the more you kissed him, the more that the hazy feeling of getting to be with you like this raced through his body was the more he became addicted to needing more, chasing a high that he didn’t even know he wanted until now, like an addict finding his next hit.

You seemed to pick up on it all, as though you’d read all of his thoughts, because the second he’d had the lingering thoughts, you were settling yourself across his lap, a leg on either side of his own as you seated yourself down, and he couldn't help the way his hips bucked up a little to meet you, or the way his hand slid down fully to rest on your ass.

After all, as much as he’d gone through the make him grow up emotionally, physically he was still a horny-teen college boy, and you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, sitting half-naked in his lap and sucking on his lower lap while doing something with your tongue that was making him feel like he couldn't even breathe properly for how aroused he was.

Maybe you could feel the growing erection underneath of you, maybe you couldn't, but he’d stopped caring about being embarrassed around you about three hours ago when he’d had to tell you all about the time he’d once dropped a condom in Coach’s class in front of the entire classroom, and you’d laughed so much your face had gone red and you’d hidden it form him by pressing into his shoulder.

You were something he felt like he was dreaming up, like any moment now he’d wake up in a small puddle of his own drool with his face pressed into the desk of his lecture hall, the lights turned out and another note left by his kind professor to get more sleep at home, and to lock up when he left, before you were giggling a little at him, pulling away and stealing a few more pecks as you did, and he wondered if you really could read his mind, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Are you reading my mind or something?”

He felt stupid even as he mumbled te words, especially when it only seemed to heighten your entertainment, but you shook your head. “I can’t read your mind, I can just kinda’ sense your mood, I guess. It’s the connection, you were clearly thinking something funny, and I don’t know what it was, but I got a sudden rush of amusement.”

“That’s pretty fucking incredible.” He whispered, letting you peck his mouth a few more times, simply sitting there with puckered lips as he tried not to smile too much, before he was tucking hair away behind your ears and finally you were opening your eyes, and at this point, he really should learn to stop being surprised by new developments with you. “Holy shit, your eyes are glowing!”

“So are yours.” You winked, the bright purple being a shade that was so captivating and beautiful on you that he couldn’t look away, even when you leaned away from him to grab his phone, raising it up to snap a picture for him, and forcing his gaze down to it. Much like you’d said, his eyes were beginning to hint in with a faint purple, the neon shading beginning to drip into his irises and take over from the usual golden-brown that resided there. “You never made out with another witch before?”

He pinched at your ass for your cheeky comment, taking his phone and throwing it away to the side, grinning when you yelped at his painless attack. “I didn’t even know witches really existed before today. Besides, what makes you think I'm one? I had a spark once, but as I said, that died out. Nothing truly magical.”

“I don’t know, you’re having a pretty strong connection with me right now, aren’t you?” Your arms looped around his neck, snuggling in a little closer to him, and he bit back a groan as you shuffled in his lap. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, you just don’t know how to tap into your magic, you have to believe in it to see it.”

“You really think so?”

He was vulnerable and he knew it showed, he’d gone his entire life being unsure as to where all his energy and twitching came from, as to why he’d always felt a draw to the earth; the preserve and the woods, and justice and balance, and why he’d somehow fit into a supernatural world with far more elegance and ease than he ever had the normal one, and maybe this was the explanation. “I really do, Stiles.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I would love to.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then to the spot below your ear, before flicking his tongue out a little to drag over the sensitive patch that lay there, before moving down your neck. He didn’t want to mark you without your consent, he wasn’t sure what was going to come of all of this and where it would go, but he was more than happy to lick and bite lightly at your skin, finding the sweet spot that made your hips roll down into his own and a sound of need and desperation to leave you that was like music to his ears, before his hips were bucking up to meet you once again.

“Y’know when you said that you could feel what I was feeling?”

“Uh-huh?” You were distracted, your reply seeming somewhat faded and distant, and he chuckled lightly, before making his way back up to your mouth now that you’d both had a chance to catch your breaths once again.

“Does that mean everything?”

“Are you asking if I know just how much you want to fuck me right now? Because yes, I do know.” He choked a little on his breath, your hand in his hair pulling his head back so that you could meet his gaze, your lower lip held between you teeth, flesh going a darker pink, and he longed to be the one biting that lip for you. “Trust me, the sentiment is returned.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.” He wasn’t used to women being so confident with wanting him, being so unashamed of it, or of even wanting him at all. Most of his hook-ups had been slightly drunk make-outs and sloppy grinding, or booty calls and meetings in closets at parties. He got more action than he ever did in high school, he’d finally grown into his limbs and his looks, but that didn’t take away the surprise that still happened every time someone as pretty as you even offered him the time of day.

“Like, right here? Right now?”

“Been thinking about how much I want to ride you on my couch for like an hour and a half, now.” Stiles couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, lips parting as you ran a finger over his swollen lips, a cheeky glint flashing over purple eyes as you looked at him.

“You might just be perfect for me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A toothy smile was offered to you, before he was pulling you back in towards him, hands slipping down to lay resting on your thighs as soon as your lips had found his once again. The heat seemed to have passed, and while the kiss was still completely intoxicating, there was something a little more tender about it, too. It wasn’t nearly as rushed and frantic, the sloppy kisses you’d shared as you learned one another’s ticks had passed, and as your lips worked slowly with his own, Stiles found that he much preferred this kind of kiss.

This was the kind of kiss that he could picture himself sharing with you in many settings. A sleepy, early morning kiss, when you were still between the land of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. Or, late nights, when he’d fall asleep while studying, and he would let you drag him to his feet and to bed. Or, simply when he would finish a lecture, or get you coffee, or meet you for dinner. The point was, Stiles already knew he wanted to kiss you at all times of the day, and to hold onto you, and to watch you brew little spells at the stove while holding onto you from behind.

Your lips were wet when you pulled away, eyes sparkling as you looked at him, a bright shade of royal purple, like silk and rich violet on flower petals, and you looked utterly ethereal. “Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?”

“You’re sweet-talking me.” You teased, bumping the tip of your nose against his, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m not, I’m just being honest with you. I’ve been into you for a long time, even if I didn’t quite have my mind in the right place to actually say it.” You huffed out a little laugh, your eyes averting from his own so that you could try and hide your bashful little expression, but he didn’t miss it.

“Well, I’ve been admiring you a little, too. I should’ve had my deliveries sent to you sooner, if I knew it was going to end like this.” As if to punctuate your words, you rolled your hips down into his, reminding him of the solid erection pressing into his jeans, his fingers digging a little firmer into your skin, and he pushed your shirt up higher, the soft cotton of your panties revealed to him.

“These are just fucking sinful. Do you normally wander around your house in underwear and band-tees?” He tugged at it a little, before daring to tuck his hand underneath the fabric, trailing up, and a poorly-concealed groan left him as he found no further obstructions, fingers closing over one of your breasts, squeezing lightly as he palmed at your chest. “Well, clearly not all of your underwear.”

“I tend to, I keep it warm in here, for all the plants.” Your back arched up into his hand, one of your own closing over his outside of your shirt, as your other held onto his shoulder, fingers leaving crescent-moon shaped marks he was sure, and the rocking of your hips into his own only seemed to increase.

“I’d love to see you in one of my flannels sometime, just like this.”

“Give me your shirt and you’ll see it sooner than you think.” You teased, his brows raising, before he was pulling his hands back just long enough to lean into you, stripping the garment off as best as he could, leaving him in a thin black t-shirt as you took the item from him. He wanted to whine out as you stood up, choosing instead to replace the pressure of your core over his with his hand instead, palming at his cock through the thick denim, and you grinned as you watched him, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

You stood before him, draping his shirt across his spread knees as he slumped further into the cushions, getting himself comfortable and popping the button on his jeans, swollen lower lip being nibbled as you played with the hem of your shirt. Your hips were swinging to the beat of the song, and then, you raised the garment up and over your head, letting it drop away to the carpet, his jaw dropping as he looked at you.

You picked up his flannel, pulling it up your arms, and leaving it open at the front, just barely covering your tits. You were an angel and also the devil, tempting him to do so many wrong things. Stretching his hands out toward you, he beckoned you back into his lap, an act you were more than happy to take as you bounded over to him, a pep on your few short steps, before you were settling back into his lap.

“Perfect.”

He let his hands find the flaps of the flannel, pulling it open wide enough to be able to admire your tits fully, letting you push your hair back away from your shoulders for his unobstructed view. Sealing one hand around your waist, he dragged you up closer, until you were almost pressed to him fully, before dipping his head down. His tongue dragged over a hardened nipple, taking the taut peak into his mouth and sucking harshly, as your hand wound into his hair. You tugged, roughly, a groan that vibrated along your entire body leaving him and making you shiver, and you made the prettiest little noises above him.

He switches sides, making sure to give the other half of your chest that same kind of attention, leaving wet marks and stinging watches along your skin that would become bright purple marks in the morning to match the colour of your eyes, and he just hoped you kept him around long enough to see them when they did become beautiful and prominent. He wanted to see his good work, he wanted to see the way he got to mark you up and leave his touch all over your body.

“Stiles..”

“I do love how you sound moaning my name, princess, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last when you're making noises like that and grinding yourself all over my cock like this.” You grinned, letting him kiss his way back up your chest and throat until he was taking your lips with his own. Your hands were moving down, tugging at his zipper as far as it would go, hid hips bucking up into his hand as he felt you drag a nail along his covered erection, breathy sounds between you both when you pulled away.

He only had to lift himself up for a moment, before you were tugging at his jeans, helping him to get them just far enough down his thighs for his boxers to be able to follow. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard and desperate for you, leaking precum along his skin, and he gave himself some form of relief. You were watching him, eyes wide as he pumped his length in one hand, the other dipping under your skirt rubbing over your core, and you bundled up your shirt for him.

“Y’know, all those times I thought about us, a quick fuck on your couch wasn’t how I had wanted our first time to be, but then again, I didn’t expect the cute chick across the hall to be a witch, wither, so..”

He used his thumb to drag your panties to the side, your sodden folds revealed to him, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. “I’ll let you take it slow next time, I swear, but right now, I’d really like it if you’d fuck me.”

He could only nod, heart skipping a beat at the promise of another time. Your legs shifted, muscles clenching as he forced himself to take his touch away from your core and bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your sweet essence from the thin digits. As you leaned over him, he was sure to line himself up, and then, you were sinking down onto him, your forehead flailing to his as your mouth fell open, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered the words, a little breathless and hanging on the edge of his orgasm already, and you seemed just as close, because as you finally sank all the way down and settled into his lap again, he could feel every pulse within your walls as you hugged around him.

It took him a moment, staving off his climax so that he didn’t come just from getting to feel you like this, and you looped your arms around his neck gently to find your purchase. Your nails were scratching lightly at the hairs at the base of his neck, his flannel once again flapping around you, panties pushed to the side to let him have access to your centre, and it was deliciously filthy.

Once you were settled, you circled your hips, a test movement, pleasure spiking in both of your systems and it felt like the temperature in the room was shooting upwards. Stiles could already feel sweat beginning to bead along his skin in a thin layer, and you pressed yourself in closer to him. Each time you shifted your hips you were moving a little more, every rock of your body into his, you were pulling yourself up just a little higher to be able to drop yourself back down onto his cock, stretching and squeezing around him.

You felt like velvet, slick and warm as you sheathed around him. You were precise and deliberate, and he couldn't help the wonton sounds that were leaving you with every drop down onto his cock, before you were taking him up to see stars every time, leaving the both of you resting in the clouds. Panted breaths, a scream in the back of your throat that tried to break out each time as you gave him broken moans of his name, picking up your pace further and further each time.

Once you were stable above him, you were moving with purpose, fast and quick as you rode him, gaining more confidence each time, and he was gripping you so tightly that there would be fingerprints all over your hips in the morning. He helped you go, lifting you up each time, only to pull you back down into his lap, thrusting up with a weak effort to meet you, but feeling you go wild each time. That same energy was back, crackling with more force, surging through him like nothing he had ever felt.

Stiles was in college, he was away from home and the weight of being the Sheriff’s kid for the first time, and he had experimented. He’d gotten drunk, and high, and hungover, but this was a whole new kind of thrill; it was like lighting up with fireworks and adrenaline all at once, like creating a bond with another person, and a tingling spread throughout his entire body as your magic bonded with his own. He hadn't felt this kind of singing in his blood since the day he’d managed to finish the circle with the mountain ash back when he was only sixteen, or breaking through the wild hunt barrier at almost eighteen.

These kind of thrills were rare for him, but they’d never been this strong, and as the two of you moved as one in the most intimate way that two people could, your mouth coming up to claim his as you silenced yourself and him, growing louder and more desperate as you went, he felt that final high beginning to build.

“‘M so close, honey.” His voice had taken on that same kind of scratchy rasp that he had in the mornings before he even broke into his day, “Oh, God, keep goin’.”

He knew his words were beginning to grow slurred, and he could barely buck his hips up into you. As everything within his body began to light up, he felt like all of his muscles were going lifeless, his body going boneless, because the heat was consuming him. He couldn't hold it back, he’d been waiting for so long to feel you this way, and his lips could barely even move back against your own as he went slack-jawed, exploding within your tight heat.

The send that he was shooting over the edge, you were following right after him, crying out his name into his mouth as you kept going against him, until you couldn't clumping down into his body as you trembled, and Stiles felt as though you’d milked absolutely everything from him that he had to offer. There was a crackling along his skin from everywhere that your fingertips smoothed over, sliding down from his shoulders so that you could press your cheek to the spot instead, fanning breaths rushing over his neck as you tried to catch your breath, racing heart just like his was.

You didn’t even bother to move from him, letting him throb within your walls with each flutter you made and each shift, and if you kept it up, he was sure he’d be ready for a second round, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he had that in him. Resting his head back against the edge of the couch, he let you lift yourself up and off of him finally, your legs shaking as you stood, offering him a weak smile as he took in your through fucked out state, before taking wobbly steps away from him, and disappearing down the hall.

He heard a door close, assuming you’d gone to the bathroom, and he leaned over to the coffee table to snatch up a few tissues, to clean himself up with, before sorting himself out too. He did the bare minimum, not even bothering to do up his jeans once he had them pulled back up, but he stretched out along the length of the couch to lay down, an arm popped under his head, and a little laugh on his lips as he did.

He took a moment to glance around, not missing the way that the plants all seemed to be blooming particularly beautifully, seeming more alive than ever. As he lifted up a hand before his face, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, a spark travelled between the tips, and he felt a little in awe just at the sight of it.

“It's pretty incredible, right?”

He startled, jumping a little, before turning to look at you and propping himself up on his elbows as you lingered in the doorway. You had changed, your hair pulled back and out of your face, missing a few odd strands and you’d buttoned up his flannel along your body, mismatched and hanging unevenly, but still adorable. You took slower steps over to him, waiting for a second as you stood beside him, before he was lifting his arms and making it clear to you that you could lay with him, a smile gracing both of your faces as you flattened yourself along him, cheek pressed over his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You like feeling your magic, then?”

He lifted his palm, holding it to yours and admiring the final dying flares he saw, as the energy began to dissipate and absorb into his body and yours fully. “I’m not used to feeling special myself. I’ve always been a behind the scenes, research, kinda’ guy. I’m not used to being one of the main players.”

“Oh, hush. You told me your story, you were most definitely a key player, Stiles.” He shrugged under you, letting you cross your arms over his chest and prop your chin on them.

“Yeah, but I never really felt that way, and now I feel like I have something to offer.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his jaw with a sweet kiss, and he felt like he could most definitely get used to this feeling. Can I meet them?”

“My pack?”

You nodded, seeming a little shy now, and joy raced through him at the fact that you saw enough of a future with him to want to meet his friends an get to know them, and to once again be able to be completely open and honest with everyone, never having to hide anything from anyone, and being able to let you fully and wholly into his life. It was a surprise, because the more he’d thought about his future late at night when lying alone in his bed, he was so sure he’d never be able to really settle down, because he could never let someone in on his life in every single way, but with you, that wasn’t a problem.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Really?” You were studying him carefully, trying to ensure that he was telling the truth, and he gave you the most honey look that he possibly could, before lifting his head to meet your lips as he leaned in.

Soft and delicate, like a kiss that was shared between deep romance and longtime lovers, and he rested a hand on your cheek, holding you to him, and rolling you to the side, to sandwich you between the couch and his body Your thigh came up to rest over his legs, his palm slipping from your face to rest on your leg, drawing patterns on the skin until you pulled away to breathe, lips detaching from his as you whined a little. You stayed close, though, a soft look etched onto your features;

“I just want to meet a few more supernatural people, and get to know others who I don’t have to hide from.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to hide from them, and you’ll love them, just as much as they’ll love you. We’re a pretty odd group, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right about that ‘odd bunch’ thing. I’ve never met a banshee, or a - what did you call it? - werecoyote.” That was an undeniable truth, your head coming back down to rest on his chest as he shrugged, unable to deny that you were right. “Your wolves sound nice, too. All the other wolves I’ve met have been overly territorial and closed off.”

“Well, Derek used to be like that, but we’ve pulled him around a little. He is still broody, though.” You laughed at his joke, a sound that made his heart burst open slightly and bleed with affection, all for you, as you continued to take more and more pieces of his heart with every act, and he was falling in love with you faster than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t take notice of any of his lurking, by the way, it’s his twisted way of showing concern and care.”

“I’ll remember that, and if I ever catch him hiding behind a tree, I’ll know that it’s real friendship.”

“He does that, I’m serious, don’t underestimate him. I think my dad arrested him for stalking, once.”

“I think your dad would be who I am most scared to meet.” A fond tone in your voice, before he was pressing a kiss to your forehead, humming under his breath.

“He’ll love you the most, don’t worry.”

Silence fell between you both then, and he busied himself with tracing illegible drawings into your skin, simply enjoying feeling so close to you. It was irrationally domestic, and you were the final piece in his college life and college experience that was missing. Despite not being a wolf, he was unequivocally part of a wolf pack, and being surrounded so closely by such a tight-knit group of friends for those years had made him dependent on company and reliability, and he had been feeling so alone since leaving for college.

Scott had Malia, Lydia had rekindled things with Jordan, and even Derek had been (begrudgingly, to begin) hooked up with a deputy by his father, and they’d been on a few dates.

The last time he’d been home, he’d felt like a fifth, seventh, or was it ninth wheel, when Liam and Hayden were taken into account? He had been feeling awfully lonely lately, and he was glad to finally find someone that fit him perfectly, matching him like a glove.

“When I do introduce you to my friends, my pack, y’know, and my dad..”

You lifted your head, a little crease across your cheek from the fold in his shirt, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb gently, an attempt to remove the mark. “Yeah?”

“What should I introduce you as?”

“A witch.” You deadpanned, and he knew immediately that you’d clearly know exactly what he meant, but were playing with him, and he pouted, fixing you with a mock glare, before you were laughing to yourself over your joke, something so undeniably cute that he couldn't even pretend to be mad about it. “What do you want to introduce me as?”

Nudging your jaw a little with his, he puckered his lips, tempting you down to kiss him, and you were more than happy to press a series of sweet and short kisses to his lips. “I’d really like to formally claim you to be my girlfriend?”

He mumbled the words into your mouth, feeling your lips flick up at the edges in a smile as you gave him a kiss that was a little more firm, a little more loving and powerful, before whispering your reply; “Then we’re on the same page, because I’d like to introduce you to my coven back home as my boyfriend.”

“You have a coven?” He pulled back, a gasp of shock, and you giggled at him.

“That I do. Maybe I should tell you about them?”

“You absolutely should.” He insisted, his craving for knowledge taking over, and he couldn't have been more glad to whatever deity was watching over benevolently that he’d taken the choice to stay the first time knowledge had been offered, because it had led him to where he was now.

“It might take all night, maybe you should go and get a change of clothes. Get comfortable.”

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” You only nodded, letting him roll you back over onto your back as he kissed at your neck. “I’ll buy you take out if you cuddle me later?”

“Cuddling and dinner? Glad I get to call you my boyfriend, now.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am to call you my girlfriend. My little witch.” His lips sealed over yours, silencing your laughs against his mouth as you teased him for the nickname, and he pinched a little at your sides. The mistletoe overhead grew a little more, a few of the berries dropping away and bouncing off of his back as the plant became bolder, just like the rest, that energy beginning to grow once again, as you got lost in each other’s touch.

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