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diamondheartyux · 1 month ago

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Sacrifice Me

Part 4 of Sinful Sacraments

Read Part One

Read Part Two

Read Part Three

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Genre: Smut: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: phew buddy, please let me know if I miss anything because........

aggression, virginity, unprotected sex(wrap it up besties), bondage, cult representation, small group activity, dubcon\noncon, sharp objects, blood\slight blood play, Non HEA (heavy on this), death, dead dove

My heart fluttered in my chest as I slid my small hand delicately into his large palm. His fingers curled around mine and I swore my heart would beat right out of my chest. I had dreamt of this moment for months but had always been too shy to act on what I was feeling. I took in the man before me. His raven colored hair was slicked back today,, long bangs hanging in whisps almost obscuring the view of inky colored pearls. He was beautiful and no one could deny it. His sun kissed skin all but glowed in the setting sun. The dark clouds on the horizon threaten to disrupt the setting light as it paints the sky in vibrant shades of pinks, purples, and orange.

He tugs me alongside him gently and I follow, my steps double his to match his stride. My body buzzes in excitement and nerves. The air whips around us as a strong breeze passes through and the bottom of my floral dress flutters. The tall grass around us sways in response to the draft as rustling greets our ears in response. The flowers teeter, fighting to stand straight against the harsh gush and display their petals. It was a peaceful moment and I took it all in to reminisce on when I was safe in bed under my plushy covers.

In the distance was a clearing where a stone carved table set rather high in the midst surrounded by old fashioned, unlit torches. My stomach lept at the sight. It was a picnic date deep in the meadow, alone with him, set away from prying eyes and damning whispers. No need to worry about anyone else catching his attention or anyone discovering his external affairs. I can relish in knowing those soft obsidian eyes were only for me. I had often daydreamt about him nestled comfortably in the pews every Sunday as he stood on the stage before me. It was a surreal moment, that he had perceived me, chosen me. The basket he carries in his opposite hand bobs back and forth lightly, crashing into the grass as we stroll closer to our destination. A smile creeps across my face at the boyish habit as I watch him swing it subconsciously.

Birds chirp softly against the sound of a chorus of crickets and locusts, all blending together in the evening hours to supply us with a soundtrack to our time together. The tall grass broke at the edge, giving way to the open area. There were no chairs near the table but steel circular hooks obviously driven deep in the stone which I found odd. I shook it off, not wanting to take any focus off of the god of a man still clutching my hand in his. A blanket lay spread next to the table and, after placing the basket down, he gently tugged me to sit, lowering his body in time with mine.

His hand released mine and I watched as his eyes surveyed me from head to toe. A small smirk splayed across his rouge colored lips. My eyes glued to those lips, memorizing the arch in his cupid's bow and the fullness in both his top and bottom lips. They were plump and I ached to see if they were as soft as I often imagined they were.His lips curl upwards, parting slightly as his eyes roam back to mine and find me focused on his mouth. His slender fingers crossed the small space between us, his right hand sliding gently over my exposed leg before journeying under the hem of my dress to caress my left knee. My stomach and heart both lurched at the touch, a tingle sparking in my belly before shooting downwards. A bold warmth radiated between my thighs and I was certain he would feel it from where he was sitting.

I shuffled ever so slightly to not warrant a loss in the contact between his hand and my knee. My hands shook slightly as I placed my left hand atop his right, coaxing him to move it higher. Obediently, he drifted it upward more to rest on my thighs, his body leaning in closer to mine as he made way upwards. My gaze flitters to his hand before finding his eyes once more. Another flutter erupts in my stomach as I take him in. God, he was gorgeous and I had spent many days hoping for this moment. So, against the assaulting anxiety and the jittering in my hands, I quickly closed the distance between us to press my mouth against his before I lost my nerve.

I took every ounce of strength I had within me to not moan at the contact. His lips were lush. It was like two puffy, pink clouds set against mine. I pulled back hesitantly, unsure of where to go from here. His free hand came up to cradle my cheek before he tugged me gently, bringing me back to him. Our mouths clashed softly, lips parting to taste each other. I savored the feeling, resisting the urge to press myself against him before I swallowed him whole. His lips part to allow his tongue to sweep against mine, asking for permission to enter my mouth for explanation. I grant him permission, my tongue rushing to meet his in a dance all their own.

I revel in the taste of him, desperate for more. My hands move softly to run up his forearms before clenching the fabric of his shirt sleeves to tug him forward. He rocks towards me, shifting onto his knees to oblige. His lips never leave mine as he crawls over my body, lowering me flat against the ground as he goes. I tighten my grip on his sleeves, parting my legs to allow him to hover between them. He places a hand on the side of my face, his somber eyes taking in my features . His lips meet mine with a heightened fervor, coaxing a small muffled moan from me. I close my legs around him as his hand slips from my cheek and drifts down my neck to stop on my chest. He softly squeezes my breast through the fabric of my clothes and my breath hitches.

He runs his hand from my chest down my stomach to the hem of my dress before sliding it underneath, bringing it up with him as he travels back towards my face. He pushes the fabric up before pulling the opposite side up as well, bunching it between around my sternum. He runs his fingertips lightly over the thin fabric of my bra before drawing them down my bare stomach, causing a burst of butterflies to roll flutter frantically in my abdomen. My chest rises and falls quickly, my lips all but numb now against his. He pulls his mouth from mine, a small whine filling the space between our lips in protest. He places a small kiss on the corner of my mouth before kissing my cheek.

A kiss falls against my neck and I shiver before he continues his travels. He makes his way down the center of my chest before he plants a kiss on my breast. They ache with need and he teases instead of paying them the attention I desperately need. I arch my back lightly, pushing myself up in hopes for his skin to come in contact with mine. He runs his fingers delicately over the fabric of my bra as his lips come to press gently on the opposite side. Another tingle sparks through me and I push my hips upward against him. I clench his sleeves more before releasing them, my hands traveling to grasp any part of him that I can. His lips return to mine for one, soft peck before he pushes himself up onto his knees, a soft smile gracing his already heavenly feature.

He offers his hand to me and pulls me back to a seated position when I rest my against his upturned palm, my dress slipping down to my knees once again. He reaches down, gripping the fabric delicately before tugging it upward, allowing me to lift my arms as he pulls it over my head. I felt vulnerable sitting in my underwear across from this man that I had spent weeks yearning for. He grabbed my arm softly, pulling me to stand upright before him. He side steps, reaching down to open the basket before returning in front of me with something in his hand. Walking behind me, he reaches around my sides to grab what is a strip of fabric before he places it across my eyes. It’s a sheer soft fabric, allowing in light but obscuring my vision otherwise. I feel him tie it gently at the back of my head, being careful not to catch any of my hair in the knot.

Once he assured it was secured properly, his hands slid tenderly down my arms before coming around my waist. He wraps them delicately as he pulls me against his body, rolling his hips against my back so I can feel him pressing against me. The reduction in my sight leaves my other senses heightened. Feeling his hardness pressing into my soft skin causes my body to hum in anticipation. He was a craving that was so close to being satisfied and I was willing to do whatever he wanted of me at that moment that when he pulled his arms from around me and withdrew his body to grasp my elbows, I was most inclined to allow him to lead me anywhere.

He walked me softly, stopping briefly to come before me. His features were opaque through my blindfold and I couldn’t make out any part of his face besides the outline. His hands came around me again, resting gently before he lifted me, sitting me softly on the rock table. My heart beat wildly in my chest. The excitement of being at his mercy was almost enough to make me burst. My body was on fire, an almost deadly combination of need and anxiety swirling below the surface as it tumbled under my skin to combine into one powerful blaze.

His lips press against mine again and my hands come to his body, wild in their exploration. I wanted to feel him, to touch him, to have him pressed against me and buried deep inside me desperately. I tug and pull at him as my lips move greedily against his succulent, heart shaped ones. His tongue raps against my mouth, asking impatiently for permission to enter and I grant it to him. Every swirl grows in need, faster and more impatient before he pulls away from me to lower me flat on the stone beneath me. It’s cool against my skin, almost a crisp sensation and it sends my skin into goosebumps.

His presence fades and I begin to hear rustling to my left. Seconds later, his footsteps travel around the slab only stopping momentarily before continuing. As he walks, I begin to smell burning from the torches he must have lit. The sun was still setting, the colors of the sky muted for me but I could make out where the night was chasing the setting sun over me. A clash of dark and light, fighting for their time to watch us from above. After he finishes his journey around, he returns to climb over me. His body straddles mine, his legs on each side of me, and he softly takes my arms to pin them over my head before he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. His lips press softly against my skin, the feeling eliciting the electricity humming in each and every cell of my body.

My mouth parts slightly to allow a quiet moan to escape into the air around us. His teeth graze my neck lightly then begin their descent towards my chest. He stops every so often to leave small nibbles on my skin, his hands coming off mine above my head once he was far enough down. He trails further down my stomach and stops after placing a kiss right below my belly button. His hand grazes down to come between my legs, stroking my softly between the thin fabric of my panties. The touch was heavenly, even better than I had anticipated and I instinctively rolled my hips against it.

He wastes no more time after the slight tease and immediately tugs my panties down. I lift my hips upwards to allow them to slip down my ass as he pulls them down my legs. He grips my knees with his hands tightly, squeezing lightly in what I can only believe is a struggle to not lose control. He pulls my legs apart quickly before burying his face between them. He all but nuzzles me with his nose, his tongue licking upward between my slick folds to lap over my clit lightly. I shudder, the pleasure shimming through me in an almost volatile manner. His tongue returns to my clit, lapping hungrily as it swirls and spins. I moan lightly, my back arch as my hands all but fly to his head. I run my fingers into his hair, twisting it between them tightly.

He continued to assault my sex with his mouth, each flick more rapid than the last. Something began to burn in my belly, another unfamiliar feeling to put a name to. He was the first man to see me, to touch me, to fuck me and I was at his mercy. He slips a finger inside me, plunging deep and the tenderness he showed me initially was slowly melting away. He pushed his finger in quickly, curling it at the tip with ever inward motion. His tongue worked faster, stopping momentarily only to suck at my clit lightly. I was overwhelmed and the fire in my stomach grew with every flick and every thrust of his fingers.

When I felt like I couldn’t handle anymore, he added another finger and his pace quickened. His hands worked my roughly in rhythm with his mouth and my body was on fire underneath him. I moaned at every movement he made against me, my hips began to buck almost frantically against his face and my hands strained to hold him down. An explosion goes off within me, the fire burning in my stomach setting me ablaze. I cry out, my head thrown back as it burns deliciously, the heat searing me as the temperature fluctuates, washing over me entirely. My legs close around his head and, paired with the force of my hands, keep him trapped between them as I grind against him to ride it out.

My legs quiver around him before releasing slowly to allow him up. I wished desperately to be able to see his face, to see his lips shine with the gleam of my wetness painted across them but when I looked downward to him, all I could see was a dark splotch. I groaned at my vision before lying my head back on the stone underneath me. He removed himself from me and I heard more rustling before he returned, a small metallic click coming from somewhere. I turned my head towards it despite being unable to see, my curiosity leading my actions. I felt his hands return to my body, fingers curling around the straps of my bra. He pulled them down, threading my arms out of them, before he slid his hands around towards my back. I arched upwards to allow him the ability to unsnap it and I felt as it pulled away, exposing my breasts fully.

A cool breeze whipped, dancing across my bare skin and I felt the prickles washing over my skin and my nipples harden slightly at it. Before I could think too much about it, his hands were cupping my breasts, the warmth of his hands a welcomed feeling. He kneaded roughly and his fingers rolled my already pert nipples quickly before pinching them hard. He pulled them out, tugging them hard and I gasped loudly. Pain shot into my breasts before melting into a pleasurable sensation that sent a tingle between my legs. I felt myself growing warmer once again as he played with my nipples, stroking the fire once more.

He brought his mouth to my chest, sucking a nipple into his warm, wet mouth. He resumed his kneading with one hand and his tongue darted across my other nipple quickly. He suckled softly before bringing his teeth to graze it then ultimately capturing it between his teeth. He tugged it hard, sending a slash of pain outwards into my body. I cried out softly before the cry morphed into a low moan. He switches quickly, his mouth and hand trading places as he teases me roughly, his fingers digging into my supple breasts painfully. He grinds against my bare body, his clothed erection pressing against the warmth between my legs. I moan softly and roll my body to meet his.

He grabbed my nipple with his teeth one last night, pulling it with him as he retreated only to let it pop from his mouth painfully when he sat up.I can hear clothing rustle as he moves off the stone slab and from over top of me. There’s the sound of a belt ringing, the buckle dangling as it’s being removed. I hear another soft sound after, like clothes landing on the ground and then I feel his hands around my legs again. The warmth of his skin is the only indication I have of where he is in proximity to my body as the sky above us has now been blanketed in darkness. I can see no more shadows and no more outlines.

He uses his legs to spread mine wide enough to settle between and I bring them up, bending at the knees. He wraps his hands around the top of my thighs and pulls me down closer to him. I shiver as the heat of his body kisses the chill on my skin. He positions my legs on his shoulders and I feel him lean forward before I feel his erection against me. He slides himself between my folds, traveling down and up then down again before he pushes forward inside me.

I gasp and then moan lowly, the sensation indescribable. It was delicious and my body sighed in relief at finally receiving the fullness it craved. He doesn’t tease but instead drives into me forcefully, his fingers wrapping tightly around my thighs. His pace is slow at first but he increases before he’s eventually slamming into me hard and fast. Moans and whimpers pour out of me in a waterfall of sounds to be carried away on the breeze. The trees sway, their leaves rustling loudly as the wind twists and turns through them. I can smell water in the air, the last signal of the storm that was brewing in time with the pleasure crescending in my stomach.

Each thrust is rewarded with a moan of his own. The sounds fueling my own as well as the urge to coax more from him. I rock myself against him in time with his aggressive thrusts. He pushes forward and I rush to meet him, our bodies meeting it a satisfying mix of sounds. I run my hands up my stomach to grip my breasts and knead them, mirroring the way he kneaded them earlier. I pinch and roll my nipples but with less force to send more fuel to the embers simmering inside me. He runs his hands down my thighs, leaning forward. I feel the warmth of his arm across my chest and hear something scrape the stone before his arms retreats. His thrusts slow and I groan in disappointment.

I feel his palm run up my body but his other hand is closed around something as it ascends. He wraps his free hand around my neck, squeezing one time before he releases it. I feel something sharp press against my skin directly between my breasts. Fear erupts in me causing my heart to pound for a different reason now. His breathing is strained almost as if he was struggling to maintain control. The sharp feeling travels slowly up and down my chest before he drags it across my nipple and it disappears. I shivered at it, though I wasn’t sure if it was from arousal or anxiety.

He chuckles, a sound that should be light and music to my ears but his was low and laced with something dark. The feeling returns just about my left breast and, without any warning, he pushes it down hard enough to break skin as he begins dragging it slowly to the right. An unwanted, burning pain pierces through me and I cry out. I can feel the warmth of my blood gathering as it waits to make its escape from me. It was a light bleed, not enough to kill me but enough to begin dripping down my chest. Tears welled in my eyes instantly and my previous pleasure was replaced with outright fear.

I felt that sharpness again right below my sternum. He dug down into my skin as he sliced another line down between my breasts before stopping above my belly button. Tears fell rapidly, soaking the fabric across my eyes as well as dripping down my cheeks. I cried out again before sobs escaped my lips and a white hot pain seared through me. I tried to move out from under him but he shoved me back quickly, his hands weighing on my shoulder to hold me in place. He continued to thrust in and out of me despite my cries and pleas. His breathing was erratic and his touch was rough.

He removed one hand to trail his fingers through the blood pooling on my chest. I winced at the sting his touch brought despite how lightly his fingers played in the crimson lake. I didn’t understand what was happening or why he was doing what he was doing or how he was enjoying it. My chest was burning more and more as he ran his hand down it, coating his fingers with my blood before he lifted his hand. I could hear him hum softly before I heard a wet popping sound. I shivered at the image of him sucking my blood off his fingers, the thought sending more sobs through my body. His hand returned to begin spreading the fluid across my body.. He slid his wet hands over my breasts before bringing them up my neck to my face, leaning into me. His palm rested against my chin while he painfully pushed his fingers upwards against my cheek before clasping his hand around it and he growled softly.

He squeezed my face harshly, my face throbbing underneath his moistened hold. He begins to slam into me harder and faster, his movements more erratic. His warm breath ghosting in short spurts against my nose. He grips my face harder still, eliciting another cry from my lips. He moans at my sound as he quickly pulls himself out of me, crawling upwards to straddle my bleeding chest all while pinning my arms underneath him. He brings his throbbing erection to my chest, circling it against the cross shaped cut. His hand pumps himself almost violently before I hear him all but roar into the night sky. Warmth hits the center of my incision as he releases himself there. I lie frozen beneath him as my tears continue to ebb as the journey down my face.

After his orgasm resides, I feel his fingers back on my chest as they swirl to mix his seed and my blood together before they press against my lips. I clamp my mouth shut, denying him permission to place them inside. “Open your mouth.” he commands and I shake my head back and forth quickly, sobs banging violently inside my mouth, desperate to get out. “Open.Your.Mouth.” he spits through gritted teeth, “Or I’ll make you.” I refuse further and he grabs my chin, squeezing forcefully. I cry out involuntarily and when I open my mouth to do so, he shoves his covered fingers down the back of my throat. I gag harshly as more tears begin to flow freely from my eyes. “Clean them off like a good girl.” he barks and I obey this time in hopes that this was the end of everything. I flick my tongue around his digits and suck them desperately until he pulls them out of my mouth.

He hums his approval before he begins swirling his fingers around in my drying blood. His movements are jagged, strained even, as if he was still struggling to contain his desire. My heart faltered, the idea of being finished here ruined. “Pastor Park, why-...why are you doing this to me?” I ask tearfully. He continues to run his hands across my bloodied chest, occasionally squeezing my breasts roughly before he begins to speak. “I’ve had my faith tested many times over my life,” he whispers into the air around us. Thunder rumbles somewhere quietly in the distance. “Each time, I thought it was the ultimate test. Each time I thought I would reap my rewards for remaining the ever faithful servant. I have led many sheep back to the flock. I have cast aside worldly treasures. I stand behind the pulpit every Sunday morning and deliver his messages. I have done everything obediently only to be met with more tests.” A soft flash of light permeates my blindfold, lighting up the night sky.

“But this time,..” his voice drops to an almost maniacal level before he chuckles, danger in his tone. “Just as God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, he has commanded me to make the same decision. A small act to test my devotion to him and you, my star, are the only one worthy enough of this position. You are my final test and I will ascend into the thrones of heaven through you.” The knife clatters next to my head and I begin to struggle underneath him. I yell out for help, my voice lost in the sound of the impending storm. He chuckles again before leaning over me, his chest pressing on my face. I hear more metallic clanking before he pries one of my arms from under him. He brings it over my head and I feel something cool clamp around it before he repeats the process on the other side. My eyes widen in realization against the strip over them. I pull my hands in attempts to lower them only to be met with resistance and more metal jingling.

He lifts off me, running his blood caked hand down my legs and shackles before moving to do the same to the other. Terror fills every cell in my body as I struggle against my bindings. Sobs wrack my body as I continue to trash widely, pulling my restrainants taut. I hear him chuckle once more, the fight slowly leaving my body little by little. I slowly began to accept that I was going to die here and no one would know. All because I coveted a man of faith. The wind whips wildly around me as thunder dances closer.

Amidst the building squall, I hear extra footsteps. Hope bubbles in my chest and I begin to scream frantically. The sound gets closer and closer before reaching me. I beg for help, pleading desperately for my life before I hear his voice again. “Oh, my sweet, naive star.” His hand slides around my face from my chin up as he rounds the head of the table I’m chained to. He leans his face to my ear to whisper. “They’re not here to save you.”

The hope that sprouted in my chest immediately withers, dying in the caked blood crossed across my chest. I wail loudly only for my mouth to be filled with something hard. I choke at the intrusion but it doesn’t get removed. Instead it moves faster, in and out in a rhythmic fashion. In my attempts to control my gagging, I didn't hear more footsteps circle around to the bottom of the table, but I felt the warmth of hands next to my legs as someone climbed between them. An unfamiliar voice spoke, the words carried away in the ever growing gale. In one swift motion, I was filled again. Despite myself, my body responded to the assault on my senses. If I wasn’t on the edge of my own death, I would have enjoyed it more.

The betrayal hurt more than the laceration that was scabbing over on my chest. I saved myself like I had been taught and he took it from me and still wanted my life. Then he allowed others to sully me further before he sent me to the very God he was trying to prove himself to. Fresh tears ran down my cheeks, traveling the same path as the ones previously dried to it as they made their way to drip off my cheeks.

The cocks buried in my mouth and genitals quickened their already zealous pace inside me. Fingers caressed my pussy lightly before circling my clit quickly and despite everything, bits of pleasure sparked through me.

A moan slips from my throat, vibrating the cock slamming into my throat at an increasingly erratic pace. I hear a groan from above me as a hand comes to palm my chest aggressively, my nipples being pinched and pulled roughly. Between my legs, the strokes become harder as he pulls out almost completely before slamming back into me, rocking my body further up the rod ramming my throat. The air around me blends into a symphony of moans and groans before morphing into shaky breathing and telling groans. With one final pump into the back of my throat, the man above me growls loudly as he releases his sticky load against my throat in hard spurts. He rocks his hips against my face with each wave that washes over him, grunting softly with every forward motion, and I swallow the warm liquid as best I can before he pulls himself out of my mouth.

My body begins to rock faster as the one between my legs pounds into me at a sloppy pace. My breasts bounce almost painfully as I jolt up with each thrust. His fingers press almost hostilely against my clit as he presses himself forward to bury himself as far in me as he can. He moans instead of grunting or groaning as he fills me to the point of overflowing, holding himself inside me as I feel his cock twitch with every spurt.

He backs off me quickly, leaving me exposed and I can feel his remnants dripping down me slowly. Anxiety fuels me. I didn’t know where Seonghwa was. Would I die now? Was he somewhere waiting to catch me unexpectedly? I couldn't hear over the storm and I jumped slightly as I felt a cold splash against me as the rain began to come down in thick drops. I shiver violently at it, my body aching for warmth when I feel some. A hand caressing my legs softly followed by the sharp point of undoubtedly a knife.

Terror pounds in my heart, bracing myself for more pain but I’m not met with it. Instead I’m met with his body nestled between my legs once again, an erection pressed against me as he leans forward to place a possessive kiss to my lips. I don’t return the gesture but rather I leave my mouth motionless in a hardened line but it doesn't stop him. He chuckles at my defiance, bringing his hands around my throat tightly. I gasp as the air allowed to my lungs is decreased and I instinctively try to bring my hands up to stop him before they’re met with resistance.His grip tightens and his other hand snakes between us to line himself up with my entrance.

He slips into me easily, the path well lubricated from the previous patron and he moans softly. Despite everything, the sound was beautiful and it reignites the unsatisfied feeling I had been left with. His grip on my neck eases slightly but his hand remains firmly. His strokes are slow, vastly different from his previous time between my legs. The gentleness flowing from him at the moment washes over me, luring me under its spell and my body begins to react. Pleasure ripples through me. An excitement flutters in my chest as his hand squeezes my throat again before relaxing slightly. I begin to roll my hips up towards him eagerly as soft, sensual sounds ghost my lips with every stroke he makes.

Rain begins to beat down against me, it’s chilly bite as sharp as the blade that carved into my chest previously. I quiver at the combination of sensations assaulting my body as thunder claps loudly around us. His pace begins to quicken as if to match the intensity of the sky above as it pours its energy down on us. He squeezes my throat harder, all the breath in my lungs halting and I open my mouth to gasp but no sound comes out. I strain against my bindings again despite knowing they’re there. He accelerates his strokes, each one rising in aggression and every thrust rocks my body forward. He groans low, an almost guttural sound that cascades over his lips.

Lightning flashes overhead, the light a faint, misty flicker in my occluded vision. A warmth that had been building in my stomach coiled tightly and my body begged for its release. I could feel myself teetering on the edge and sensing this somehow, he began to drive into me faster. I wanted to moan loud and wildly, to voice the pleasure that I felt desperately but instead I was forced to remain silent, settling for them to die in my throat as they vibrated against his slender fingers. If he was going to sacrifice me, surely this was the time.

I could tell his control was slipping once again and I tried to help him over his own ledge the best I could before he snuffed the life from me. I bucked and rolled my hips in equal measure, my own release quivering inside as it waited for the right moment to spring free. He growled once more, his free hand reaching above me before returning to rest in a fist on my stomach. His pace never wavered as his voice strained to be heard against the raging storm. “Because I have not withheld myself from you, I ask that you bless me, O’ Lord,” he yells into the pitch black sky. “Bless me and make my descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky..” He rams into me harder and I groan, vibrating his fingers more.

“..and as the sand on the shores.” He moans under his breath, no doubt close to finding the high he was chasing. “Allow my descendants to take possession in the cities of their enemies…” He squeezes my neck more and I wait for something to snap at the pressure he’s put on it but rather than something in my neck snapping, the tension in my stomach snaps instead. His hand releases my neck and my body convulses as an explosion of pleasure and relief ripple through me. I see something glint through my blindfold but I’m too overcome with the tsunami that was devastating my body to care about it. “And through them all nations will be blessed!” he screams loudly as I see another glint before something plunges into my chest.

White hot pain sears through me and I scream loudly, the sound transforming into a sob as tears roll down my chest. He continues to pump against my body, twisting the knife in my chest slowly. I yell out again as I feel the heat of my blood pouring out around the foreign object buried in my heart. He jabs it deeper and I can feel my head growing dizzy. He moves it around, inviting more burning pain to the wound before he pulls back quickly, withdrawing the blade to allow the crimson river to gush out as it runs down my chest.

Breathing becomes harder and my senses begin to dull. I can barely feel as he slams into me one last time. I can barely hear the animalistic growl he throws forcefully into the downpour that was soaking my dying body. I can barely feel as his body convulses as his orgasms devastate his body, his cock spurting his milky white seed deep inside me. His maniacal laughter is all but a whisper in the background now as my breathing slows. I can’t feel anything anymore. I try to lift my arm but nothing happens. I think I hear him speak. I think I feel him climbing onto me again. I think he stabs me again but I can’t tell. All I can finally feel is a sense of peace before everything stops.

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maroonsmatt · 3 months ago

Text

"ARE YOU A VIRGIN?" - matthew sturniolo

matthew sturniolo x fem!reader smut, fluff (?)

contains: virginity loss, f1ngering, explicit content (new to this so lmk if theres anything i should've put that was included)

not proof read

the sound of the tv in matts room overrides my thinking. today i'm a weird mood. matt is watching the tv as i endlessly scroll on my phone.

i get a notification from imessage. its my best friend, "em <3" its her talking about her recent hookup. as much as i love her, i cannot keep track of the men she fucks. i haven't even lost my virginity yet and i am 19. i look over at matt, his eyes fixated on the tv.

"are you a virgin?" i blurt out.

shit. why did i ask that?

he looks over at me, still processing what i had said because of how focused he was on the tv. "wha- oh? uhm.. no. why?"

"i don't know i'm sorr-"

"are you?" he asks, his eyes locked onto mine, making me feel somewhat intimidated.

"oh. yeah, i am" i didn't admit that i wanted to have sex with him, but we were dating for about 3 months. all we had done was made out. i practically yearned for it at this point. if i wanted to lose it to anybody, i would want it to be matt for sure. he makes me feel comfortable. he would. i know it.

"really?" he asks, sounded curious.

"mhm" i say with an awkward smile.

"do you want... to lose it?" he says, now touching my hair.

i hesitate. "um.. yeah."

"to who?"

he wanted me to say him. he knew i would say him. "i don't know..." how am i supposed to say that i want my clothes on his floor straight to his face?

"hm... would you want to lose it to me?" he asks.

"well...yes." i laugh.

"ok then..." he adjusts his position, now his face and hair and chains are dangling above me. i'm looking up at him, laying down. he knows how badly i want him. "why don't we? do you want to?"

i nod my head a little. "how many times have you done this before?"

"twice. now stop asking questions." he puts his lips onto mine, still above me, his arms balancing around me as if he's doing a push up. we start making out for god knows how long. as we kiss, he pulls me on his lap, in a straddle type of position.

we both pull back and i stare at him. he teases at the bottom of my tank top. i pull it off, and it messes up my hair a little. its okay. maybe thats hot to him. i am now in my lacy pink bra. he stares a little. then he gives me a little nod to unclasp it and take it off. as i am reaching for the clasp, which is taking me extra long for some reason right now. as i pull at it, matt asks if i'm nervous.

"a little."

"thats okay. its normal. i'll talk you throught it" how is he so normal and calm?

i finally get the bra off and it falls onto his lap. he picks it up and throws it away. he traces his hands up to my boobs. "tell me if you want me to stop" he says. i give a little hum of acknowledgment.

he gropes my boobs for a few seconds, then takes off his shirt.

"you're beautiful." he says looking at your eyes. i giggle a little bit. how am i supposed to act? he looks down at my shorts. "do you wanna?"

"oh..! oh yeah." i get up and take them off after zoning out for a second. all i have on now is lacey panties. he motions for me to sit on the bed and i do as so. i sit up with my back against the headboard and my ass halfway on the pillow. he sits in front of me. he pulls my panties off a little bit.

"do you ever do this to yourself?"

"yes." i say, slightly embarrassed to admitting that i masturbate.

"ok. you're not super tight. thats good." he smiles up at me. "ok i'm going one finger. tell me if anything hurts." and suddenly his finger is in there. i am already wet. his long finger is exploring and i squirm a little. "okay?"

"okay."

"good. think you can handle a second?" i nod. "okay, get ready." seconds later, theres two fingers in my clit. i let out a shaky breath.

"fuck" i whisper out of pleasure.

"does it feel good?"

"very.." i let out a soft moan.

"okay this might be a stretch-"

"yes, put the third one in. please." i cut him off. soon enough theres three fingers. i let out a moan. i squirm and bite down on my lip. "shit, matt." i throw my head back.

"i know. is it good?"

"yes.." i say as i moan again. we continue for another 2 minutes and then he pulls out, his fingers wet and my pussy soaked. i wonder if it's normal for someone to be that... wet. i look down at him, realizing how far back my head is.

"you did great." he says. he licks his fingers, smiling. "so... i don't really know if you'd like to actually... fuck...?" he says in a low and growly voice.

"um..."

"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"n-no. i want to." he gives me an unsure look. "really."

"okay. i'll be super gentle. it's okay." he pulls my panties off my legs delicately, but throws it onto the floor. i am now completely bare. he gets up and goes into his drawer, pulling out a condom.

"oh that's fine, you don't need to."

he gives me strange look. "i am not getting you pregnant today."

"i'm on the pill." i laugh.

"oh. sorry," he puts it down. he pulls off his sweatpants, now only in his underwear. i can't tell if he's hard or has a giant dick. either way, it looks... big. "okay but listen. you seriously have to- have to be super quiet. my brothers are here."

"o-okay. i will." he nods and takes off his underwear and i guess i was right. he had a big dick. i accidentally put on a surprised face.

"you okay?"

"yeah but... are they normally that... b-big?"

"i think i am a little longer than usual." he chuckles. "you sure i'm not too big?" he says sarcastically.

"shut up." i joke. he crawls onto the bed. he flips me onto my back. "i think this way, it will feel easiest." i go into doggy position and he touches my entrance lightly. he slowly pushes it in.

"you okay" he asks, his dick barely in me. i mumble a small 'mhm'. he tries to push in more but he can't go in too much more. "okay, relax a little. it's ok." he pushes in a little more. i guess he can feel my nervousness because once again he talks to me. "hey, its okay. it'll feel good. i promise. don't be scared." i relax a little more. i trust him. he is able to push in a lot more. "good job angel." he rarely calls me nicknames. he finds them corny. he continues pushing and encouraging me until he is fully in. "that was great. now i'm gonna thrust very slowly. let me know if you need me to stop immediately."

he starts to pull out... and go back in. out... and in. i immediately let out a small closed-mouth moan. he goes a little faster. "i am going to continue going a little faster. tell me if i need to slow down"

he gradually starts thrusting a little quicker. i moan quietly again and again each time he pushes in. at one point he presses my stromach to feel how far in he is. "i'm pretty far in. is this okay" i moan out another 'mhm' for the 1000th time tonight. i start gripping the pillow. he goes faster and faster.

"i'm going pretty fast are you good??"

i let out a weak "yeah." i'm trying to be as quiet as i can but i think i am on the verge of an orgasm.

suddenly time felt like it slowed down and i felt a wave of pleasure, a rush. it felt amazing. i felt him fill me up as he slowed down. "fuuuck is that okay? i just cummed y/n." he says as he pulls out. i'm zoned out. that was unreal to me. except, i think i worried him by sitting down regularly. he worries and looks at my face and starts apologizing but i cut him off.

"that was fucking amazing." i smile. "i'm sweating."

"oh, thank god, you got me worried. you did great."

"thank you matt." i say. i couldn't have chosen a better person to lose it to. i look over to the side of the room.

my panties and bra lay together on the floor. my tank top and shorts on the other side of the room. for the first time ever.

tysm for reading! this is my first fanfic so pls leave suggestions and send requests :)

#maroonsmatt #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 4 months ago

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hi . what is blaseball. looking it up i cant find anything except that it Ended which is extremely unhelpful . but i'm intrigued by ur au

YAYAYYYYY YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY AUTISM TRAP CARD. whisp i also have an uncompleted beastlife one that i'll offer you here once i'm done explaining.

so! blaseball was (rest in violence) a live play video game that combined aspects of roleplay, fandom, and TTRPGS with text based video games, and it ran from July 2020-June 2023 (specifically starting on july 20th, hence my reblogging of all my au posts today). blaseball was a surrealist horror game based off of america's favorite past time, baseball! in order to play blaseball, you had to make an account on the website and choose one of 24 teams to be a fan of. you then watched as the seasons played out, with one full season taking one real life week.

each season was made up of 99 games plus a postseason of indeterminate length. games were played every hour on the hour, with the regular season playing out monday-friday. the post season had it's wild card rounds on friday afternoon, and then the rest of the post season played out on saturday. sunday had no games, with the entire day being reserved for the election results, which came out at 3 PM EST every sunday.

what is the election? well, this is where the fans come in! throughout the season, you could bet on games (as well as do some other stuff that's not wildly relevant) in order to get coins. you could use these coins to buy votes, and use these votes to change the game in the election. each election had a few things you could vote on (two in the first 11 seasons of the game, and 3 in the last 13. i will only be discussing the first two of them here, as the third isn't super relevant.) the first was decrees, of which there were usually 3-6, and they were new rules that would apply to the entire league. only 1 or 2 would pass every season, based on which got the majority of the league's votes. the second was blessings, which acted as boosts for your team and/or handicaps for your opposing teams. there were usually 10+ blessings available, and they would all (usually) be rewarded to the team that put the most votes into them.

elections are where the surrealist horror comes in. in the first election of blaseball, there was one decree titled "open the forbidden book". it had no description, and fans were repeatedly warned against voting for it. as you may expect, it got 60% of the vote immediately. upon it passing, we were punished for our hubris. the moab dessert became a hellmouth, the world began to fracture, and umpires began to be able to "go rogue" during games played under solar eclipses. when umps go rogue, they straight up kill players by setting them on fire. the best player in the league (at the time) was also instantly killed as further punishment for opening the book. so yeah, that sure is where the horror came in!

there's a lot more that happened after all that, but that's the basic primer. if you want more, i'd really recommend the blaseball roundup, which was a recap show made by the company that made the game, the game band. it covers seasons 1-22, so almost the entire game, and it was made by an in universe character (the anchor), so you get a good grasp on the vibes of the whole thing as well. there are 5 episodes, all under 20 minutes, so it's not too much of a commitment and it's a lot of fun.

a quick primer on how my aus work- each au (the life series, empires, and hermitcraft) are separate universes from each other, all running simultaneously alongside one another. they pretty much just follow the plot of actual blaseball, but with a focus on these new guys instead of that aforementioned plot. some of them do fill in for actual characters, but the majority of them do not, and the ones who do fill in for those actual characters just go through said character's story beats.

now, beast life au! i'm just gonna copy paste all my google doc into this under the cut, as a special treat.

SATURDAY LEAGUE

Dingo: Batter for the Hellmouth Sunbeams. Dingo becomes much more boar when the Hellmouth opens, having been a pretty normal human prior. Had an unhelpful modifier rerolled during the Expansion Era, giving them a Debt. Thus far the only victim has been Bree, but the Debt remains.

Modifications: Debt, Life of the Party

Kiki: Pitcher for the Yellowstone Magic. Has spearheaded many a resurrection, drawing the ire of a lot of the league to the Magic, as players with Debt keep ending up on the team because of him. Sonic and Kiki both picked up the Siphon modifier at the same time, but Kiki makes much less use of it. His only successful saves as a Seeker have been for Fishie. He also picks up the Traitor modifier during Expansion for. Reasons.

Modifications: Siphon, Seeker, Traitor

Sonic: Starts as a pitcher for the Boston Flowers. Very, very good at what she does, partially due to pure skill and partially due to Siphoning a lot of other players. They rocket up the Idol Board as a result of their skill. They spend at least some amount of time Shelled as a result, though she gets pecked out pretty frequently as well. He is taken by the Shelled One to play for the PODS and falls to the Charleston Shoe Thieves after Season 10, Day X, where she has stayed since. At some point in the Expansion Era, Sonic Shelled Null, hence Space’s one sided hatred of them.

Modifications: Siphon, Parasite, Honey Roasted

John: Batter for the Miami Dale.

Modifications: Redacted, Electric, Life of the Party

Fishie: Pitcher for the Baltimore Crabs. Fishie has a penchant for being swept Elsewhere, having had two particularly extensive stints that resulted in her returning with significant memory loss until the Scattered modification wore off. The first time lasted about a season, and the second one got close to it, but both of these stays were cut short by Kiki dragging her back. Unrelated to the above, but due to the carcinization, she has a crab arm.

Modifications: Scattered [sometimes], Life of the Party

Phia: Batter for the Houston Spies. Phia lies low most of the time, managing to avoid the ire and love alike of the fans, which is pretty much entirely to faer benefit. Phia is/was the member of the Spies that Broku is/was closest to post-alternation, as she didn’t know Oku well at all and didn’t have the cognitive dissonance after all that. Pregame ritual is making stew.

Modifications: 0 No (this is technically a Blood Type and not a Modifier, but whatever)

Null: Batter for the New York Millennials.

Modifications: Shelled (that one time), Redacted

Space: Batter for the Hawai’i Fridays.

Modifications: None

Joe: Batter for the LA Unlimited Tacos. Joe was one of the victims of the Wyatt Mason-ing, an event where the universe fragmented and the entire LA Tacos team was turned into the worst player on the team briefly. Don’t worry about it. Joe was one of the players who did not get their full name returned to them, with the last name “Flyaway” being replaced by “Mason”. After the fact, Joe had a relatively normal time as the Tacos deliberately put themselves through God’s silliest hell. Joe became a Receiver (hooked up to the Microphone, which is possessed by the previously mentioned Wyatt Mason, again, don’t worry about it) due to nebulous shenanigans mostly because I thought it’d be funny. Receivers have a lot of weirdness going on that I think suits Joe’s “guy from the real world who got put in here” vibe, just trust me.

Modifications: Receiver

Bree: Batter for the Breckenridge Jazz Hands. Oku and Bree were together before season 4, when Oku was affected by the Alternate Reality decree. Bree originally attempted to maintain a relationship with Broku, which did not work, and Bree took this very poorly. Bree made an attempt to get herself alternated as well, but players have no voting power, and Bree’s stats weren’t enough of a nightmare that it occurred to any Fans to Alternate her. At some point in the Expansion Era, Bree was killed by Dingo, and now makes frequent ghost appearances via Haunting Echidna.

Modifications: None

Oak: Batter for the Hades Tigers.

Modifications:

Oku: Batter for the Houston Spies. Oku and Bree were together until season 4, when Oku was affected by the Alternate Reality decree and Alternated, switching places with Broku. This obviously put significant strain on the relationship, and Broku has become far more involved with/close to the Spies in the wake. Broku also potentially got Redacted? Not sure about that yet.

Modifications: Alternate, Redacted[?]

Echidna: Batter for the Hades Tigers.

Modifications: Haunted

Gery: Batter for the Tokyo Lift.

Modifications:

Moch: Batter for the Seattle Garages.

Modifications:

Mei: Batter for the Mexico City Wild Wings.

Modifications: Redacted, Life of the Party

FRIDAY LEAGUE

Dingo: Pitcher for the Atlantis Georgias, originally a pitcher for the Dallas Steaks

Modifications: None

Kiki: Batter for the Boston Flowers

Modifications: None

Tom: Batter for the Hades Tigers

Modifications: Siphon, Supperyummy

Sonic: Pitcher for Hellmouth Sunbeams

Modifications: None

Eker: Batter for the Kansas City Breath Mints

Modifications: None

Phia: Batter for the Miami Dale

Modifications: None

Viz: Batter for the Houston Spies from their shadows, spent a season on the Canada Moist Talkers but went back

Modifications: None

Jack: Batter for the New York Millennials

Modifications: Haunted

Echidna: Batter for the San Diego Saltines who died in Pre-History and Haunted Jack for a while

Modifications: None

#space rambles #mcyt blaseball au #beastlife

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frayedblorbos · 9 months ago

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Abandoned Act 1 Chapter 1 Draft

Fog drifted between the trees, creeping along the mossy, earthen forest floor. The tendrils hugging tree trunks and brush like reaching arms. The Lost Woods were silent.

Silent except for the quiet whimpering of a babe, squirming in it’s bundle of blankets from where it was tucked safely away within the cavernous roots of a warped tree.

The Forest was old, very old. It had been around for a very long time, though was not the original Lost Woods, where the legendary Deku Tree resided. The mortals of this land had merely given the Forest that name due to the similarities it held to that fabled Woods. No, the Lost Woods, the *original* Lost Woods, were still located on an island out on the Great Sea. Although, Hero of the Winds had brought a Deku seed and a handful of forest spirits with him upon the relocation to these lands, and they now lived within the centre of the Forest.

The Forest had decided to take in these spirts. It had been so long since such sprites had resided within its branches. The Forest did have sprites of its own, but its children were old and without form - now mere wisps. It had been many years since then, and the Deku Tree’s sprites had settled in well with the Forest’s own. The Forest would protect what resided within itself.

Over the years, many a foolish mortal had wandered inside the Forest’s branches. Some, the Forest gently deposited back out; mostly children and the pure-hearted. Some, however, the Forest would swallow, and they would never see the light of day again.

The Forest would prevent harm to those it had decided to protect.

The great Evil was retuning to the realm. The Forest could sense as much. Within recent cycles of the Moon, the Forest had felt sickly. Evil was returning, indeed.

So when a young mortal woman, a child of the desert, had come fleeing into the Forest’s branches, babe in her arms, pursued by the puppets of evil - the Forest had done nothing. The Forest allowed the desert child to run through it’s fog, and watched. The woman cried and ran, trusting the babe to be safe within the roots of the Forest. And so the Forest had decided. It subtly guided the desert child to the River, which cradled her broken and bleeding body, carrying what was left of her gently downstream.

The Forest looked upon the whimpering bundle curiously. There were higher powers, higher beings, at work here.

The Forest curled a playful tendril of fog towards the baby, who quietened and stared at it with curious big eyes before trying to grab at it, mumbling slightly with excited and even wider eyes when it’s tiny hand went straight through the pearly substance.

The Forest would take in this blue-eyed babe.

It murmured to the sprites that resided within it’s heart, telling it’s children to guide the way to the mortal child.

The whisps popped into being, flickering like little blue flames. One appeared above the babe and bobbed playfully around it’s grasp as it giggled and stared in wonder. The whisp’s flickering blue was reflected in the child’s wide eyes.

The Forest urged the spirits to haste, for of the puppets of Evil that had chased the desert child some still wandered through the fog.

Two brave little wood sprites were the ones to join their ghostly companion on the venture, following the trail of whisps out of the Forest’s heart and towards the mortal child it had decided to safeguard. The whisps would pop out of existence and disappear completely, or perhaps reappear further up the trail, as the little group would follow.

“Kiki is wondering how Mister Wolf is solid,” a tiny Korok with a hand-shaped-leaf chittered.

“Deedee knows that Kiki is forgetful, but Deedee did not think that Kiki was silly,” a Korok with a heart-shaped-leaf chittered back.

Kiki let out a petulant huff, shaking a twig in their tiny grasp, but before the little Koroks could start bickering, the wolf grumbled, effectively shutting the sprites up.

The Forest harboured many spirits, ghosts among them. A pack of ghostly wolves lurked the forest - truly no harm to anyone; the Forest had welcomed the souls of the poor creatures into it’s fog as the pack was chased into the woods by farmers armed with torches and pitchforks. There were also the ghosts of long dead mortals, mostly innocents that could not pass on and the Forest had decided to safeguard until they faded away - some stayed as fuzzy echoes of who they once were while others took different forms.

Neither of the little Koroks knew whether Mister Wolf was a mortal ghost with wolven form, or the ghost of one of those poor creatures. They were okay with not knowing, albeit curious as to why this particular spirit was special.

*Mister Wolf* padded dutifully along, understanding the Forest’s intent to preserve the babe’s life. Following the trail of whisps was efficient, and the bundled baby was found in no time. While the Koroks immediately began to chitter away about how cute and strangely fleshy the mortal child was, Wolf snuffled the babe’s cheek, chuffing as the blue-eyed bundle squealed and giggled. Wolf continued to nose the child, sniffing, and playfully licking the baby, putting up with it’s grabby hands that manhandled it’s face and pulled at it’s ears.

“Kiki and Pip have the bag!” Kiki chimed, hopping back onto Wolf’s back, Pip helping pull the satchel in tow.

Wolf snorted in affirmation, making sure that the babe was properly bundled before using it’s maw to gently grab the blankets and carry the squirming bundle.

Mission nearly complete, the spirits began the short journey back to the heart of the Forest, following the whisps that guided them. Instead of popping out of existence, some of the whisps would decide to stay, drifting around the small party, and bobbing in and out of reach of the child’s tiny hands.

The babe no longer whimpered or cried and squirmed. Instead it giggled and babbled curiously and the whisps played with it and it swung happily in the wolf’s grip.

The Forest’s trees rustled happily. It had not been graced with such happy sounds from a mortal in many Moons.

The Forest’s heart was the safest place within itself, much like the Deku Tree’s domain. The trees grew healthier and taller, a small stream that had broken away from the River flowed through the clearing. The boy would be well taken care of, safe, within the Forest.

#anemoiaverse #ao3 fanfic #abandoned draft #an insight into the background #:3 #typos everywhere #whoopsies

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worldsneverfilled · 2 years ago

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Unspecified Entry, Welcome to the Blessings Tree

//I've left it vague as to who's visiting the Blessings Tree for a reason, but uh, this is kind of what I imagine it'd be like visiting the Tree for the first time. This is also not technically canon for the campaign, mostly head canon.

Stepping through the portal is like stepping outside on a crisp autumn morning. It's a breath of fresh air and freedom that one might feel after being locked away indoors or underground for weeks. It's invigorating, and soothing.

But, on the other side, your senses are accosted by a myriad of things.

You can smell cinnamon rolls, oxidizing metal, the world after rain, grazing fields—the good and bad that come with it—life and death.

The sounds that reach your ears are just barely there, as though they're not entirely physical. You strain to hear them and pick out individual noises, but they're whispering and teasing in the back of your mind. Rocks grinding together, rushing water, giggling and whispers, singing, instruments all playing different tunes, birdsong, and more. But overshadowing all of them is a sound reverberating through you, your heart synching with the heartbeat you hear playing out on wooden wind chimes. It eases your worries, and you feel a peace you haven't felt in ages flow through you.

Around you, motes of light that are tiny and just barely there flit around or float aimlessly. They trail behind passers-by, some merely floating in that person's wake, while a passing child has little green wisps playing around in the flowers in their hair. The whisps are a variety of colors, and some have taken more familiar shapes while others have remained formless.

At your side, you hear dissonant whispers, and when you peer down, there are wisps of purple light dancing across and streaking around the head of your axe. The scents of a damp forest floor and sulfur reach you; the forest is like an earthy rot but not wholly unpleasant.

The room you've stepped into is massive, cavernous. It would be confused for a cave if not for the material that makes up the walls, ceiling, and floors and how well-lit it is from the stained-glass windows to your left. Pillars of wood, here and there, act as support; there are low points that arch over you, while other spots seem to reach high above and disappear into the darkness and out of sight. The walls are misshapen and lumpy in places, uneven, and while the pillars look smooth to the touch, the walls are covered with protective bark. It's not from the wear and tear of time or touch nor the tools of a carver that have finely smoothed them; they were grown that way.

Knots in the wood protrude randomly from the surface, where the wood was left alone to grow as it wished in those places. The floor has faint lines, too many to count, squashed together. They would look straight, but after closer inspection, you can just barely see a slight curve to them, marking the passage of time for this remarkable tree.

The floor has rugs that lead a winding path forward, made of materials dyed in otherworldly, vibrant colors you've never seen before. Intricate, weaving patterns make up each rug, the look of colorful vines with leaves or flowers attached to them. Stepping on one comes with the feeling of an uneven texture of a forest floor, the pile of the carpets not high enough to trip someone but enough to feel the vines and leaves beneath your feet.

Ahead of you, you spot two archways that flank this enormous hall, one smaller than the other. Through the larger of the two—with people entering and exiting with arms empty and then not—you hear the sounds of people calling out to one another, amicably chatting as they barter, and the sounds of goods being moved here and there. It's the sound of a marketplace, though it's a small one. The sound may be echoing, making it appear as though it's larger and more crowded than it is.

Through the smaller one—though it's difficult to see much from this angle—there's a sliver of emerald. Peering through the oddly-shaped windows to your left reveals that the sea of green is a forest, and peaking out over the tops of the trees is a view of the Giants' Shoulders—the mountains that surround this vale.

Curving around the wall beside and above you is a staircase, grown from the walls and leading up to the third floor, the third bough of the tree. The courtroom, meeting halls, and living quarters of the Nyhmorarch are there. All but the Nyhmorarch's home are open to the public, and you see one or two people ascend the stairs, possibly to attend court.

At the far end of the hall there appears to be another staircase leading to the ground floor of the tree where the school, archives, and temple are located, also open to the public. There's a second portal to the right of it, and just like the one behind you, it's flanked by two guards in metal armor of silver and green. Their brown-black capes and shields have an image of the Blessings Tree in the center, designed to look like it's in four seasons.

The guards beside you are two Eladrin, one aligned with the Spring court and one with Winter. The ones guarding the portal that leads elsewhere in the Feywild are a bit harder to see, but one appears to be tiny and floating—perhaps a fairy—while the other has a second set of arms and…antennae? Whatever they are, they're insectoid in nature and unfamiliar to you.

Your guide bounces forward a few paces and turns with a flourish to face you, arms spread wide and smile cheerful and welcoming when they exclaim, "Welcome to Knashthra! And welcome to the Blessings Tree."

Photo from here.

#writing #campaign: writings #mine #knashthra #knashthra aes #country: knashthra #hey look im actually writing something original today lol

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years ago

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Drabble No. 1

Summary: “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice carefully low. And you could see how hard he was trying to contain his anger.

Pairing: Dave York x fem. Reader

Wordcount: just under 1k

Warnings: physical abuse, descriptions of injuries, unrequited love, implied death

He was too quick. Way too fucking silent. You did not hear him or even the door opening. You jumped as you felt his fingers under your chin. You kept your eyes focused on the floor, his shoes, his shiny black shoes. Why was he wearing shoes in the middle of the night?

“Sweetheart…” his voice reached your ear. You closed your eyes as he slowly tilted your chin up. You heard him breathe in slowly, his fingers under your chin moving your head to the side so he could look at you, access the whole damage. You couldn’t stop the single tear running down your cheek, his thumb carefully wiping it away.

You opened your eyes, looking into his. The deep brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago, without ever acting on those feelings because you were friends. Nothing more. At least until that one night where you were both too drunk. But then you met your now husband, and you… just couldn’t get away from him.

Because you were too damn weak.

And up until this day you had managed to keep what really happened to you once you went home, back to the man you had vowed to spend your life with under wraps. Not that Dave would have ever been around to see it.

But you couldn’t cover this up.

Your eye was so swollen you almost couldn’t open it and in your fear of what else could happen if you stayed, you had gone to the only place, person, you ever really felt safe.

Which was… Insane.

You hadn’t seen the man since you finished college. Since he met Carol who had… her own opinion about her husband having a female best friend. Her jealousy was what slowly but steadily made Dave push you away.

But it’s been twelve years and a phone call to his father left you with his new address and the news that he was in the middle of a nasty divorce.

16 hours later you knocked on his door, leaving you here, now.

Dave was older, you both were. It was the middle of the night. You had driven to him for 12 hours straight and you were exhausted but for the first time in years you felt… you felt safe.

You looked at him, his face so close as his eyes flew over yours. He sucked his bottom lip in, tilting his head to the side, working his jaw before his eyes found yours. And there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, something dark. Dangerous.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice carefully low. And you could see how hard he was trying to contain his anger. But even if his whole body was on edge, his other hand clenched into a fist by his side, the hand that was touching you was the softest anyone had touched you in years.

His thumb brushed over your chin as he looked into your eyes.

“Dave…”

“Sweetheart… I need to know. Who?” he took a step closer and you automatically took a step back, years of abuse teaching you to run. To escape. His hand dropped from your face and you closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I…. I shouldn’t have come here. I….”

“You’re safe,” he said and you looked at him with tears in your eyes. He held his hands up, as if he was talking to a scared animal.

“You’re safe. Here. With me. I promise. I would never let anything happen to you,” he continued and you took deep breaths, allowing yourself to close your eyes, because you were safe. You knew that. Deep down. The man who did this to you was far away. He could not hurt you.

You opened your eyes and took a step back towards him, slowly, your head tilting so you could look at him.

“Who did this to you sweetheart?” he asked again, his jaw flexing.

“Marc. It was…. It was Marc,” you whispered and he nodded, before he slowly brought his hands up to your face, brushing your tears away carefully. He kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered close.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, before he bent down to take the overnight bag you had packed in a hurry as you escaped from your hands.

“I’m… I’m sorry for showing up like that. I… I… called your dad and I… didn’t, I didn’t know where to go…” you were shaking as you talked.

“Is it okay if I hug you?” he asked quietly and you sucked your bottom lip in before you nodded.

Slowly his arms wrapped around you and you let your head fall against his chest, inhaling his scent deeply, as you crossed your arms behind his back. You felt one of his hands rubbing slowly, soothingly over your back.

He was warm, so warm.

“Come on. You must be exhausted. I’ll get the guest room ready for you,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head before he slowly led you inside.

He made you a tea, apologising that he didn’t have your favourite but promising to buy it the next day, and some toast to eat and showed you to the guest room after so you could take a shower and then go to sleep, him just in the next room if you needed anything.

And while you were in the shower Dave made a call.

A call that would make sure the man who did this to you would spend the little remaining time of his life in pain.

He would love nothing more than to be the one killing that son of a bitch for what he did to you. But his team would take care of this one for him.

And Dave? Dave would be there for you.

The way he always had wanted to.

#drabble #my fic #dave york #Dave York x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #prompt

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years ago

Text

Handcuffed together 11: Expectations

A/N:

A few days later than origanlly planned, but here is the next chapter ;)

Word count: 2.065

Two weeks.

You were in the house with Thor for two weeks and still haven’t heard anything of the team. In those two weeks you had played every board game that was in the house with Thor. Watched a bunch of series and movies. Even got drunk one evening. If you thought that combat training with Thor was hard, combat training with Thor while having a major hang over was much worse.

Slowly losing your mind, you were getting on Thor’s nerves on purpose. Hoping he would let you out of the house, but he couldn’t be convinced. You tried to sneak out a few times, but he had caught you. Apparently growing up with a trickster brother, you learn a thing or two. With plenty of time to think about the whole situation you decided that you were mad at Loki, very mad. You knew he had arranged this, thinking it was the right thing. But he didn’t talk to you about it, he didn’t give you any choice or voice in this, that made you angry. You didn’t want a relationship where he would just make his own plans, without consulting you. Or that he would think it is okay to do whatever he wants.

Thor tried to defend Loki’s action, but even he had to admit that he understood your point of view. After that the two of you decided not to talk about it, trying to make the best of the whole situation. Halfway through the third week Thor got a call from Tony. The security system should keep out Thanos’ minions, tough not Thanos himself. There was half a plan, so the two of you could return back to the tower. Finally, you walked with Thor outside. Inhaling the fresh and warm air, you saw the jet with Natasha approaching. Looking around you asked Thor ‘So, where are we exactly?’

‘Some country called Italy’ he answered.

Your jaw dropped ‘I’ve been in Italy this WHOLE TIME. And weren’t able to see a thing?’ you yelled.

‘So, excited to see that boyfriend of yours. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he missed you terribly’ Natasha beamed.

On the flight back to Stark Tower

The flight home was long. Thor didn’t come with you and Natasha. He had some things to sort out on Asgard, regarding the Tesseract. Leaving you alone with Natasha. You sat down in the co-pilot seat, and watched Natasha fly for a while.

‘I- I don’t know’ you answered.

‘How come?’ she asked.

‘Seriously? Avoiding me, knocking me out and shipping me to Italy, without even talking to me comes to mind’ you angrily reacted.

‘Not the most tactical approach, but effective. I mean, it’s Loki. What did you expect? A heart to heart?’ she said.

‘Wow, thanks for your understanding’ you sarcastically reacted.

‘Come on, it took him literally attacking you to finally tell us everything that he went through and is still going through. And still he is extremely vague about it’ she answered. ‘The only reason he agreed to stay was if we got you out of there. Thor and I had to stop him thrice from leaving that night. I was exhausted’

‘He tried to leave?’ you didn’t think he actually was serious when he said that maybe he tried.

‘Almost succeeded, I might add’ she said.

The rest of the flight the two of you rode in silence.

‘Don’t tell me he left’ you said to Steve.

At Stark Tower

Entering Stark tower, you were greeted by the whole team, expect Loki. He was nowhere to be seen.

‘No, he didn’t. He just rarely leaves his room since it happened’ Steve said.

‘(Y/N), I think maybe we should talk’ Tony said to your surprise. He has been keeping a distance from you since you and Loki started to get involved with each other.

‘Not now’ Steve sighed to Tony.

You raised an eyebrow but nobody gave you an explanation. Not wanting to waist anymore time you left it at that, and went straight to Loki’s room. You knocked on the door.

‘Door is open’ you heard him say.

Entering his room, he emerged from his bathroom. He was shirtless and his hair was still wet. Resisting the urge to run into his arms, you closed the door and stood still in the room. When you looked at him many emotions surged through you. You had missed him, but you still felt betrayed and angry.

‘How could you?’ you asked, holding back your tears and anger.

Loki looked sad, maybe a bit guilty. ‘I had to’ he answered.

In your anger you made an energy ball and flung it at Loki. He dodged the ball by ducking down, making it disappear in the bathroom. You heard a loud crash and saw several bottle flying and breaking through. Now it was Loki’s turn to look angry and betrayed.

‘Darling, calm down. Let’s talk’ he said.

He took a step in your direction. The fact that he told you to calm down had the opposite effect. Shooting another ball, he redirected it towards the wall where his closet was. Clothes were falling out and the closet was damaged. Loki kept walking towards you, redirecting the balls you threw at him. His desk was split in half, the cushions on his bed were hit making feather fly across the room and the table was slightly burning. Loki got closer and closer, making you step backwards with your back against the door. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head. Grabbing your chin harshly you hissed in pain.

‘You want to fight? Let’s fight’ he said angrily.

He released your chin and pulled you from the door. He pushed you towards the middle of the room. You attacked him by hand, but he blocked you easily. Punching you in your ribs, making you groan and bend over. Even tough it hurt slightly, you knew he was holding back. You tried to punch him in the face, but he dodged you making you spin around. Grabbing your hips from behind he holds you close to his back.

‘Pathetic’ he whispered in your ear.

Spinning around again you started to walk towards him, while trying to hit him. You tried to throw your punched as fast as you could, but he was faster. He blocked every attack you threw at him, but didn’t attack back. When he was almost with his back against the wall he sweeped your leg, making you fall on your back.

‘Improvement. Yes. Enough? No’ he said. You saw the mischievous look on his face, he was certainly enjoying your rage.

You made an unexpected move and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell down with a groan, wiping the smug smile from his face. You pinned yourself above him, your knees pinning the arms against his body. Grabbing his chin like he did earlier you growled ‘You can’t just decide and act like you do, without including me!’

Loki didn’t look fazed, he looked calm. A bit too calm for your liking.

‘I can when it is about your safety’ you heard him say from behind you. Two hands grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up. The Loki under you faded away and you started to struggle against the arms around you. He threw you on the bed, making feathers once again fill the room.

‘It’s been a while, but I’ll get you purring again kitten’ he suggestively said. Crashing his lips down on your before you could protest. He broke the kiss and started to trail his kisses down your neck, marking you like he did the first time. You cried out but he ignored you. You were still struggling against his grip and the weight of his body on yours.

‘Stop. You can’t just send me away and expect me to go back to you whenever you like’ you said angrily.

Loki stopped what he was doing and looked into your eyes with an intense gaze. ‘And you can’t expect me to be with you if my presence endangered the woman I love’ he growled. With a hand wave the both of you were naked. Your wrists were tied together above your head to the headboard of the bed. There was a large ball in your mouth, preventing you from speaking. The ball was connected with chains to clams on your nipples, forcing you to look down at Loki. When you tried to move your head you pulled on your nipples, making you moan and Loki smirk. He positioned himself between your legs and worked your clit with his tongue. Slowly circling it with the tip and licking it with the flat of his tongue. He maintained eye contact with you the whole time. Even tough you wanted to, you couldn’t look away.

Right before you orgasm hit you, he stopped. Groaning around the ball he just laughed. A paint brush appeared in his hand. With one hand he opened your folds, exposing your throbbing clit to him. With the other he started to stroke it with the brush. The feeling kept you on edge, but it was nowhere firm enough to topple you over. Your nipples started to hurt, so you had no other option than to watch Loki play with your body. In an attempt to come you bucked your hips to create more friction, but Loki made the brush disappear.

‘What is it, kitten?’ he taunted.

He made the ball in your mouth disappear, but kept the clams on. ‘Now?’ he said.

Totally out of breath you gasped for air a few times. ‘Please, fuck me’ you begged him.

‘Good girl’ he praised.

He entered you with his cock in on smooth motion. He started to thrust into you in a fast pace, hitting the exact right spot. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He started to leave open mouth kisses on your neck and mouth. One hand slowly trailed downwards and played with your sensitive clit. You came hard, clenching your walls around his cock. Loki groaned loudly and you felt his cock twitch and spill his seed in you. He thrusted sloppily a few times and collapsed on top of you.

He was heavy, but it made you feel secure. The restraints disappear and you wrapped your hands around his back. Loki popped up on his elbows but stayed on top of you.

‘I missed you terribly’ he whispered against your lips while kissing you.

‘I missed you too’ you said back.

‘I didn’t want to send you away, but I had no other choice. Darling, if I ever think I’m a danger to you.. I’m going to send you away. And I know you will hate me for it. But I’d rather have that than kill you’ he started to trail his tongue up and down your neck, biting you slightly to make you squirm. You felt his cock starting to erect again.

‘And if you can’t handle that, I suggest you leave now’ he whispered in your ear. You felt two fingers enter you and his thumb started to toy with your clit again. You tried to get away from the overstimulation, but Loki’s weight prevented you to. After a long-time having sex and cuddling with each other, even Loki was finally tired. You were completely exhausted. Still, he pulled you out of bed and sent you to your own room. After the mandatory shower there was a beautiful green dress on the bed. You put it on and found a note under the dress.

- See you at the roof – L

When you got out of the elevator you saw Loki. He was standing in a suit near beautiful set table with candles and roses. There was a bottle of wine in the cooler. It was dark and the lights of the buildings were beautiful to see. Loki smiled brightly when he saw you. Walking towards him he pulled a chair for you. When you set down you felt his lips against your ear. ‘I am not going to apologise, but will make it up to you for spending two weeks with my idiot brother’ he said while kissing your ear lobe. When he set down it was Steve who served you your first course. He winked at you ‘Just friends, hmm?’ he said.

Permanent tag list: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theaudacitytowrite

Series tag list: @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98 @thehornytitties @oh-my-gerd @morganmofresh @saiyanstars @rahne85 @charistory @not-your-bitch @kamrynnnnn

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jobean12-blog · 4 years ago

Text

A Searing Embrace

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 794

Summary: You and the team are on a mission. Bucky loves to watch his girl kick ass...and I mean LOVES hehe

Author’s Note: Thank you for this fun request anon! I apologize for the long wait! Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy this! I love making Bucky a sub for a few minutes before he gets to have fun...I mean let’s be honest, either way it’s a win! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: It’s sweet and fun and then smut, oral (male rec), cursing, use of powers to get Bucky off, light sub/dom moments (18+ only please)

As you float above the action you try to keep your mind focused on your fight but it’s hard when Bucky is below you with 25 aliens rushing at him. For a split second it looks like it might be too much, and you quickly use your powers to send a bolt of energy through the swarm, effectively turning most of them into goo. Bucky whoops and you can’t help but smile, winking his way when he yells, “damn! That’s my girl!”

The moment your feet hit the ground you start running straight into Bucky’s arms. He picks you up and spins in a circle, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Kick ass baby girl. I love watching you do your thing.” You answer him with a kiss, tugging hard on his hair while the adrenaline still courses through your body. Pulling away to catch your breath you slowly slide down his body, smirking when you feel the bulge in his tactical pants, “you really do enjoy it, huh?”

He’s about to give you a sassy retort when Steve strides up next to you, “save the fun for later kids, time to go.” You playfully roll your eyes and take Bucky’s hand, but not before sending a small whisp of your energy between his legs. He nearly trips over his own feet and you can’t help your giggle, earning a stern look from Steve.

Bucky’s cheeks are pink when you take your seats in the jet, your hand resting gently on his thigh as you brush the hair away from his ear and whisper, “I can’t wait to get off this thing.” His metal arm squeezes your waist before he sneaks his fingers up your back and starts playing with the zipper of your suit. You stay quiet and still, calling on your power to send soft touches down his neck and chest.

The cool metal at your neck tightens and you watch Bucky’s jaw clench. “You ok Buck?” Steve’s eyebrows raise in concern and you quickly look at Bucky, acting worried. “You know what Steve, I think we’re gonna go sit in the back and rest where it’s quiet. We’re both pretty shot.” Without waiting for an answer, you take Bucky by the arm and lead him away from everyone.

When you reach the back of the ship Bucky spins you around and crashes you to his chest, “having fun doll face?” You dance your fingers down his chest and palm him through the thick material of his pants, “I am, but I’m ready for more.” Without more than a thought you easily undo the buckles of this gear and get his pants unzipped and halfway down his thighs.

“Fuck,” he says, his tone husky and deep, “anyone could walk in here you know.” You look between his legs and lick your lips, “I don’t really care.” Your mouth silences any further thoughts of his as you let a tendril of power drift down and over his cock, swirling it around in a motion similar to one your tongue would make.

Bucky’s teeth press into your plush bottom lip and he growls into your mouth, “fucking hell doll.” You continue rubbing over his hard length, working him from the base to tip, “I really wanna put my mouth on you, Bucky”. His hands start to circle around your waist to pull you closer, but you stop them with your powers, pinning his arms to the wall.

“You don’t play fair,” he whines, testing the strength of your mind restraints and moaning when he realizes it’s no use. Your lips leave a warm trail down his neck and chest, stopping just above the v of his hips, “you can play later. It’s my turn now.” Your mouth closes over the head of his cock just as you tweak his nipples with a whisp of energy and his hips rock into your face.

“I’m so close baby.” You can taste his precum on your tongue and you start to suck with renewed vigor, letting your energy wash over his body in feather light touches anywhere and everywhere. The wall behind his metal hand begins to warp under his strength and his cock throbs in your mouth. With one long and languid stroke of your tongue you send a jolt of energy right through him and he fills your mouth with his hot cum.

Standing up, you release his arms and lean in close, running your tongue over your lips to lick off every last drop. “You’re delicious.” It takes him a moment to find his voice, the heavy rise and fall of his sweat slicked chest finally easing when he pins you with a hungry glare. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you when we get home.”

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @chucklebucky @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @harrysthiccthighss @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @loricameback @lorilane33 @lookiamtrying @lokilvrr @littleredstarfish @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #sub!buck x reader #buck smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky drabble #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #smut #bucky

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shanastoryteller · 4 years ago

Note

Trick or treat!! I’d love some Zuko/Yue/Sokka or something untamed related!!

Wei Wuxian has been dead for over a month when Lan Xichen hears music coming from the Jingshi.

Wangji is still too ill to move, the thin scabs across his back sometimes breaking and bleeding anew if he breathes too deeply. The playing is too tentative and uncertain to be his even if he could force himself to sit up straight for long enough to play the chords. It’s Healing, the music rough and uncertain but unmistakable, and he feels a rush of affection for whichever disciple has risked being thrown from their sect to sneak into his brother’s room as he sleeps to try to help him.

For a moment he considers turning around, pretending he never heard anything, but doesn’t. He is willing to overlook this. Uncle and the clan elders won’t be. Wangji is in seclusion and he has to heal on his own, under his own spiritual power, which he will. He’ll live and he’ll heal.

The thirty three lashes hadn’t killed him. He’ll live. He’ll heal. But he has to do it on his own.

He pushes open the door and freezes.

His brother’s guqin is playing itself. The strings are plucked slowly and carefully, but no one is there except his brother who lays unconscious on his stomach. He breathes in through his teeth, too quickly and too loudly, and the playing cuts off with a discordant twang.

The door closes on his face, nearly slamming except softening at the last second. He rushes to yank the door open again, but it doesn’t budge. Healing starts up again, and he bangs on the door, trying to rip it open with brute strength when talismans prove useless. There is something in there with injured baby brother. He tries a window next, which won’t move, won’t be shattered, but at least now he can see.

He should call for help, call for Uncle and the other disciples, but as he reaches for the talisman he sees something that makes him pause.

Rippling across the strings of the guqin are whisps of red spiritual energy.

Lan Xichen passes the night standing at the window, watching. Healing is played again and again, for hours, until the sky turns grey with morning, until it’s nearly but not quite five. The song is stronger and smoother at the end of the night than at the beginning.

When the song doesn’t start up again, he pushes the window. It opens easily. The door is the same, opening with no resistance.

He sits next to his brother, watching as his eyes slowly slide open. “Wangji,” he greets quietly, “how are you?”

Wangji looks at him. It doesn’t feel like he’s seeing him.

Lan Xichen leans forward and carefully lifts the sheet off of his brother’s back. His brother is a strong cultivator, one of the strongest of their generation, of course. Anything less and thirty three lashes would have killed him. But the thick scabs covering his skin are so much more than he’d had even when Lan Xichen saw him a week ago. There’s not even any blood on the sheet.

“You’re healing well,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.

Wangji’s face doesn’t so much as twitch.

He doesn’t know, then.

Lan Xichen can’t decide if Wei Wuxian’s ghost is acting out of kindness or cruelty by hiding itself from Wangji.

#untamed #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #fuck i love this so much #should i write this???#i really like it

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officerjennie · 3 years ago

Text

You'll Never Be Too Much

CW: ED adjacent thoughts, weight gain thought of negatively (by Eskel), spiraling thoughts, weight gain spoken of positively (by Jaskier), tummy kisses, scar kisses, stretch mark kisses, brief mentions of witchers not eating well on the path, soft!Eskel, hurt/comfort. Starts out rough but ends up Soft. WC: 7.6k+ Rating: T Prompt: Tickling Summary: Eskel injured himself at the start of the winter and ended up resting throughout it, and when it's time to meet up with Jaskier in the spring he fears he will be unattractive to him. But Jaskier is determined to do his best to show Eskel just how beautiful he is when he's soft and healthy.

Dedicated to @all-hail-the-witcher who kept yelling at me to stop hurting Eskel. And a special thanks to @lindianaj0nes for betaing for me <3

It was a mistake coming here.

Eskel rode Scorpion through the small town streets, apprehension tensing through his body until he was just one knot of it, his eyes unable to look further than the stones straight ahead of where his horse took him, unable to look up and see the faces around him.

Sometime the fall before, when the trees were all but bare and the scent of rotting leaves was thick in the air, Jaskier had shooed him home. It had made his heart ache though he knew Jaskier’s decision had not been one made of emotion - no matter how difficult that might be to believe. Jaskier, following logic instead of his heart or cock, but the regret and the worry and the love had been so clear on his face that not even Eskel could deny it.

Jaskier was many things, but an outright liar was not one of them. And there was so much proof to his love that, after almost seven years, Eskel was finally comfortable and confident enough to relax into it.

But that had been before the winter, and dread sat rotten in his gut as he rode slowly towards their agreed upon meeting place.

It was a nothing town in the middle of a nothing country, named but nothing to that name. They’d chosen it because of its location more than anything else. Nestled nicely an equidistance between both Kaer Morhen and Oxenfurt, in an area that wasn’t too keen on driving away witchers, not really known for much monster nuisance or trouble. It was a bit dull and boring for the both of them but when it came to spring meetings dull and boring was nice, a pleasant if brief respite from the world they’d be flinging themselves into shortly.

Jaskier would be there at the inn, waiting for him. As he always was. Singing the crowd into a joyous lot, using a rickety table as his stage, his bright colors splashed against the dull and dark of the rest of the world - and Eskel would be joining him soon, slipping into a booth in the corner to see how long it took for Jaskier to notice he’d shown up, because if the way his bard’s face lit up upon noticing him couldn’t convince him of his love then nothing else ever could.

But this year, this spring, he feared the lust might not follow.

Eskel shifted, feeling his shirt too tight against his skin, and when he looked up at last the inn was far too close. But he’d come this far, and he’d made the mistake of skipping one of their meetings before. Not entirely on purpose, but it hadn’t stopped Jaskier from hunting him down and giving him several pieces of his mind. For several months.

And the songs that followed felt like they’d never end.

The inn had a dingy stable built right next to it, one with only a few stalls and one single, rather sleepy stable boy who always had hay sticking out from his dirty blonde hair. Eskel slipped him a few extra coins after settling Scorpion in, nodding as the boy settled back onto his bucket, coins shoved into his pockets before he rested back against the wood and pulled the hat back over his eyes.

He could already hear his singing. One of Geralt’s songs, a grand tale that was more hyperbole than anything else - anyone who knew Geralt would know Jaskier was embellishing but no one in the inn had probably laid eyes on him before. Or, if they had, they only knew the gruff exterior and the character that Jaskier spun with his words.

It was enough to distract him momentarily from his worries. He entered the inn and slipped easily past the crowd, not drawing more than a pair or two of eyes his way, the barkeep sliding him a tankard without even bothering to demand payment up front. Eskel’s face was a memorable one, and he was good for his coin; there were some benefits to returning every spring and fall.

Jaskier had not changed much since he last saw him, Eskel noted as he slid into a booth (not the same one as the last time, never the same one. That would have ruined their game). His hair was a bit longer, curls a bit wilder from the length, looking as if he’d recently run his hands through them a few too many times. Doublet open, chemise white and almost see-through and far too visible to be decent, black curls begging for fingers to run through them. He was wearing red and Eskel colored at the sight, eyes slipping away as Jaskier drew the crowd into a roar of laughter at his raunchy lyrics.

Not a single bit of Jaskier’s performance was ever unplanned, and his clothes were part of his every day performance. There was a reason he wore red.

Eskel managed to get through a few tankards of ale as he waited, eventually going back to watching him play, letting himself let go enough to be drawn into the music. It was a bit too loud, a bit too much for his liking, but for Jaskier he could put up with it. The crowd, the noise, the scraping of wooden chairs against the floor and the slamming of cups down on the tables. All of it could be tuned down if he tried hard enough, focused hard enough on something else, and that something else was how expertly Jaskier’s long fingers worked the strings on his lute, how he poured every emotion into every lyric and word, and how he could see those cornflower eyes scan the crowd every once in a while looking for a matching splash of red.

When Jaskier finally spotted him, it was enough to make Eskel’s heart flutter. His words did not stumble, his fingers did not stutter, but his eyes found him and blew wide. From across the room Eskel watched as his pupils grew, drinking in the sight of him, eyes flickering as if to sear the memory of him into his mind. His lips drew upwards in a smile he couldn’t hold back nor could he ever fake - Jaskier’s grin, his true and joyous grin, was lopsided and silly, not thought through and perfected like the rest of his performance and Eskel adored it all the more for it. Treasured each moment it was sent his way as he did just then, forgetting his worries as he heard the lilt of excitement weave into his bard’s music.

Jaskier didn’t even attempt to make it through another song, bowing out quickly and hopping off of his table even quicker, the crowd nearly forgotten as his grin spread and his feet brought him straight to his waiting witcher.

“And here I thought you’d forgotten me,” he teased, though the hurt that once edged into those words was long gone. Didn’t stop Eskel from thinking he was a little shit for bringing it up still, after all of those years, but Eskel had grown up around little shits and knew how to deal with them. Mostly.

“Hard to forget someone like you.” Eskel winked just to hear Jaskier laugh, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest - and the movement reminded him of why he’d sat with his back to the wall, table in-between him and Jaskier’s makeshift stage, the worries and fears coming crashing down on him as he made to tug his shirt back into place.

Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, not yet. Too busy shaking his head fondly and chattering away, holding onto his lute strap with one hand while the other gestured and flourished through the air, spinning his fingers as he spun the tale of his journey there. Eskel caught a good bit of it, whisps of familiar words as Jaskier joined him at the table, his bard pressing a leg against Eskel’s as he went on about how one fork in the road had nearly been his downfall when his turn had been blocked.

“It was luck and Melitele’s blessing alone that got me here,” he concluded, dramatically heaving a sigh as he fluttered his eyelashes, looking up through them in the way that usually had Eskel’s insides melting. “We must truly be meant to be, dearheart, if not even the most formidable of foes can keep us apart.”

“A fallen tree and a couple of bandits aren’t that dangerous,” he pointed out, keeping at least one hand in his lap and hoping the position was normal. How was it that he usually sat? Did he usually have his hands on the table? Arms across his chest? Nothing like trying to act inconspicuous to make one realize they knew so little about their own behavior, and Eskel felt disdain at not knowing how to act like himself.

“You feeling alright, love?”

Eskel could have cursed himself, doubly so because he didn’t know what had given him away. But Jaskier’s lips had turned down, his eyes searching his face for any hint of something, one of his hands reaching out to hold Eskel’s where it had been resting on the table.

“I’m fine,” he lied, the words heavy on his tongue. Heavy like the fears that had turned into stones in his gut, heavy like every step had been on the way here. Heavy like him. “Just a bit tired. Traveling down a perilous mountain is a bit more exhausting than some formidable trees.”

The teasing worked at least. Distracted Jaskier enough for his nose to scrunch up cutely, for the frown to disappear from his face. But it was only a delay of the inevitable as Jaskier leaned towards him, bringing his hand up to brush his lips against the back of his knuckles, the tender touch followed by a few soft kisses to his fingers.

“I’ve already got us a room. Upstairs, window overlooking the stable, just like you like. Always best to leave the crowd wanting so why don’t we retire early tonight?”

“It’s not anywhere near night,” Eskel said, the correction in place of the irrational words he wished to say. ‘Let’s stay down here’, he wanted to suggest. ‘We can eat and drink and stay here, on opposite sides of the table. We can stay here all night and all through tomorrow and don’t look at me, I don’t want to see your face fall in disappointment’.

His hand tugged at the end of his shirt, trying to hide the soft skin that refused to stay contained. But Jaskier intertwined their fingers so sweetly, his voice like honey, lips so soft where they ran across his own rough skin.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, voice full of all the nights they’d spent far, far away from each other. “So what if it’s not night; maybe I’d rather spend the day in your arms than around all these drunken fools.”

“You’re sappier than a maple,” Eskel accused, his cheeks dusted pink, but they both knew Eskel didn’t hold it against him - just as they both knew Jaskier would get what he wanted.

It meant standing up, however, and Eskel was not looking forward to that. But he let himself get tugged up, making sure to not let Jaskier feel the weight of him, pushing himself up instead of reveling in the strength in those deceptively slender looking arms. Jaskier laced their fingers together the moment they were both standing and Eskel counted his blessings as Jaskier led the way, eyes elsewhere and ahead of them, his bard quiet for once as he led them past the bar and up the stairs, halfway down the hall on the left, their door not even locked much to Eskel’s chagrin.

“Not worried your bags will be pilfered through?”

“I was in a hurry,” Jaskier pouted, dropping Eskel’s hand and making a show of locking the door behind them, tossing the key onto a table that looked a little out of place with no chairs to be seen. “Now, on the bed, mister. I’ve walked a long road and sang my throat raw countless nights to reach you, and I’m not wasting another moment outside of those arms!”

Eskel hesitated. He hated that he did, with his back to Jaskier as he heard him gently placing his lute on the same table he’d carelessly tossed the keys onto - and it occurred to him that Jaskier had probably requested it specifically for that purpose, using his exceptional charm to get his way as usual, and the coin toss had landed on success rather than backfiring in his face as it sometimes was wont to do.

He shifted his weight, feeling the pull of the muscles he’d fucked up in his leg at the start of the winter. Not even the start of it; on his journey up the mountain, too cocky for his own good, not taking care with his steps and leading to a nearly fatal fall that had left him limping and dragging himself the rest of the way home.

If he’d been human - if he’d still been human - it would have been a permanent injury. As it was his own stubbornness had made it worse over the winter, and it was one he could still feel a few months later. One that had cost him.

He should be grateful he’d survived, and he was grateful of it, but as he stared at the bed he was supposed to climb in he wondered if it really would’ve been all that bad to skip their meeting until fall. Skip the few months they’d get together now, the nights he could spend in Jaskier’s arms, for a chance to work past the rough winter and resemble more of himself before Jaskier caught sight of him again.

It wouldn’t do to stand there in the middle of the room any longer. He started towards the bed a bit too quickly, almost forgetting to take off his armor and boots as he went, the rest of his pack having been left to Scorpion to defend with his viscous bite and deadly kicking aim.

Eskel was under the covers before Jaskier was even ready to turn towards the bed, his bard ever slow with getting ready for even the simplest of things despite how he rushed and shooed others on. The doublet had been folded neatly and moved around until he deemed a place suitable enough to stash it away, his boots aligned neatly near the door while Eskel’s had been kicked off towards the wall. Jaskier scratched his hair as he sighed, his shoulders sagging, the performance melting away and leaving a disaster of a man that Eskel could not love more if he tried.

The sheets sussed together as Jaskier crawled into them as if he’d never felt a more comfortable bed, not stopping until his nose was nuzzling into Eskel’s chest, legs tangling themselves in Eskel’s as his hands, to Eskel’s growing horror, quickly found their way under the back of his shirt to circle around him and tug him close. But not as close as they used to be able to be, not with his stomach in the way, pushing Jaskier away as Jaskier’s cold fingers leeched the heat from him.

Jaskier hummed, and Eskel counted the seconds as they rolled over into a minute. Two. Three. He knew it would come eventually. The questions, the ‘why’s, the ‘what happened to you’ and the disappointed pursing of those pretty pink lips. He managed to wrap his arms loosely around Jaskier as he waited for it all to come. There was no doubt in his mind that Jaskier would love him no matter what - he’d proven that point time and time again - but love wasn’t the only thing that held them together, that kept them company at night, and it wasn’t something he’d struggled to find throughout his long life.

After all, his family loved him. Vesemir had raised him and they’d become closer after the sacking of the keep, feeling like family rather than what they’d been before. His brothers as well, no matter that they got under each other’s skin like no one else could. Eskel knew love, knew it well, it was no stranger to him - but Jaskier had brought so much along with it that Eskel couldn’t- he just couldn’t.

How many times had Jaskier run his hands all over him, over even his scars, over every part of him that he hid from the world in shame and Jaskier had called him beautiful. Every place Jaskier’s fingers had traveled so had his lips, brushing against him as if Eskel was a precious thing and not some mutated imitation of a human. And Eskel had gotten used to it, that tenderness, the way his heart would flutter and feel so full at every honeyed word of praise that would drip from Jaskier’s lips.

What must he think of him now? The strong arms that Jaskier had purred about the first time he’d pressed a palm into Eskel’s erection through his pants, the strength that used to have Jaskier fawning over him - it was covered, now, hidden under a thick layer of fat from all the nothing he’d done all winter.

“If you think much harder the neighbors will hear your thoughts.”

Eskel blinked out of the darkening spots of his mind. When he tilted his head down just enough to look at Jaskier he found his love frowning up at him, a bit of his lip worrying between his teeth, brow furrowed but only just.

Guilt tinged at the edge of the self-loathing that had been building a nice home in his chest, because that was a look he’d only ever seen once on Jaskier. It was concern, nervousness, and the way he so carefully held himself back instead of pushing all of the emotions to the forefront meant he was feeling something he wanted to hide.

Jaskier didn’t hide himself. Not unless he thought he wasn’t good enough, and that self-doubt was only reserved for those closest to his heart. And Eskel had made him doubt himself somehow, some way, and he had no right putting those feelings on him.

“I’m fine, Jask.” Those weren’t the words he meant. ‘It’s fine. Everything’s fine, everything’s alright’, he meant, and he soothed a hand in circles on Jaskier’s back, bringing him as close as his protruding stomach would allow.

“You’re not.” He could tell by the worrying of his bottom lip that those weren’t Jaskier’s words either, but Eskel wasn’t sure what doubts had wriggled their way into his mind and nor did he know the why’s.

Words weren’t his strong suit, and personal communication wasn’t Jaskier’s. But seven years they’d been together and Eskel wasn’t going to let his own shortcomings get in the way.

“Something the matter, songbird?”

Jaskier snorted lightly, but he nuzzled into his chest. A good sign.

“You’re the one who’s so tense. Stiff as a board, which is entirely unlike you. Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

‘What happened to you?’ Eskel swallowed against the thick lump in his throat, leaning his cheek against the top of Jaskier’s head and willing himself to relax.

“Not currently,” he admitted. His injury might still bug him but it wasn’t a pressing issue, didn’t even get in the way of him sparring or fighting anymore - not like it had all winter, after his damned brothers had noticed it, much to Eskel’s frustration. He’d tried to hide it and carry on like normal, but one misstep had caused his leg to give out under him, exasperating the injury and making his brothers and Vesemir infuriatingly stubborn over him resting and not doing a single task that might upset it further.

It had meant no sparring. No training of any sort. Just laying or sitting around or only doing the simplest of tasks while he got fat off of Vesemir’s home cooking, the muscles in his arms and legs softening from lack of use, and soon the definition that had been built on the path was nowhere to be seen. Eskel had never been more self-conscious about his body which was saying something given every waking moment someone found some way to remind him of what he looked like.

People were afraid of him. Of what he was, of what he could do. They saw his scars and the scent of fear always lingered, like they knew in the back of their mind they weren’t safe no matter how careful he was to make his presence known and not sneak up on anyone, how he kept his hands visible at all times, how he moved slowly and deliberately so they knew he meant them no harm.

He’d lived with all of that for so long, but none of it prepared him for this. For knowing he could have stopped this, could have kept himself in shape.

So, no, he was not hurt. His leg only cramped every now and then, the injury more or less healed, but Eskel was not fine and he wouldn’t be until-

The spiral was stopped with a kiss. Nothing lingering, nothing passionate, just a peck to his lips that brought him right back from wherever his mind had been trying to drag him to. And he was met with the softest expression he’d ever seen Jaskier wear, with fingers caressing his cheek, the sound of his love’s heartbeat a little faster than it should have been.

“Where were you going, dearheart?” His words were soft with emotion, the self-doubt nowhere to be seen anymore. A small blessing within whatever curse Eskel was winding around them, ruining their long awaited meeting with. “Don’t hide whatever it is from me. If you can, if you want, you know I’ll listen.”

Eskel wanted to laugh at that, because how could he hide it when not even his shirt could cover up his shame. But he didn’t. Instead he curled up tighter around his songbird, tucking Jaskier up under his chin once more so he didn’t have to see the concern on his face anymore.

Talk about it... would that do them any good? Would facing it head on, ripping off the bandaid, be any better than waiting for Jaskier to eventually say something? Maybe it would be. Maybe it would be worse. But Eskel was tired from the road, tired of second and third guessing whether he should have showed up at all, and when he was tired the small, small parts of him that dared to reach out for comfort had more sway in his thoughts and actions.

“It won’t take long to get rid of it.” Eskel murmured the words into his lover’s hair, as if hiding them could hide his shame. “Just a month or so at most. Then I’ll be back to normal.” He’d be better then. He could do it by then. Just...a month, maybe two, he could ask Jaskier for that much.

“Normal?” Jaskier tried to peek his head back up but Eskel held him too tightly, not wanting to face him, so Jaskier gave up with a sigh pressed into his collarbone alongside a few soft kisses. “So something is wrong then - I can’t help you if you don’t speak clearly, dearheart. What are you getting rid of? Are you ill- should we be seeking out a witch? A healer? Oh please don’t tell me I have to see Yen already, that is not how I want to start out my year.”

Bringing up that old rivalry was enough to draw a chuckle out of him, no matter how short lived the humor was - and no matter that Yennefer and Jaskier apparently got along just fine. Half of the time, anyway. Eskel did not envy Geralt any of that nonsense, though it had seemed to calm down significantly once Jaskier had switched his witcher hyperfocus onto Eskel.

The old rivalry aside... Eskel shifted around, a little uncomfortable that Jaskier was going to make him draw such blunt attention to his issue. That he was making him say it flat out instead of letting him talk around it. Bluntness was usually how Eskel dealt with his issues anyway, most of them at the very least, but when they were so personal he preferred to not and just...not bother anyone with them in the first place.

Bothering Jaskier with it was unavoidable, given that he hadn’t stayed away. That was something he was going to have to live with until he fixed it. The right diet might help him do that faster, a stricter training regime, he could do it, would do it.

But if Jaskier wanted blunt, wanted him to throw it out open and ugly between them, Eskel didn’t have the energy to keep talking in circles around him.

“I got fat.” As if to mock him, with his next deep breath he felt his stomach press against Jaskier, putting more distance between them as it pushed him away. And when Jaskier made some sort of gargled noise in his throat Eskel had to shut his eyes tight against it.

This was it. This was when Jaskier would tell him how he’d noticed the instant he’d seen Eskel from across the bar. How he’d seen his shirt straining to contain the lot of him back, how it had made him hesitant to touch him - maybe that’s why he’d rushed them off to the room, Eskel thought suddenly. Jaskier hadn’t wanted to be seen with him, hadn’t wanted to be embarrassed by him, and this was when he’d hear what he’d been dreading all along.

Jaskier would still love him, Eskel did not doubt that. But how could he still be attracted to him like this? How could he still trace his scars with calloused yet gentle fingers, murmur words of praise against a body that had hardly deserved it before and certainly didn’t now. It had been a stretch of anyone’s imagination to call Eskel beautiful but he’d wanted to believe it, but not even Jaskier, his beloved songbird who’d seen good in the darkest of places, seen the good in those who wanted nothing more than to shy away and hide from the world - not even he could look at him now and see-

“And?”

His thoughts stopped again, and Eskel had to circle back to that word. Circle back and puzzle on it, puzzle on the question, because he wasn’t sure why the question was posed in the first place. There was no ‘and’, it was...just that. It was what it was, and wasn’t...wasn’t that bad enough?

Jaskier didn’t wait for his answer. Or perhaps the minute Eskel took trying to catch up with what the question might mean was too long and he continued without one anyway. “What’s so wrong with gaining weight? We do it every winter. Lucky enough to, even, I’ve seen too many starving people begging for food during the worst of them.”

That… Eskel tucked Jaskier up closer before he had a chance to try to escape his lax arms, ignoring his grumbling when he did. It was true that they both tended to gain a few pounds over the winters. No matter if Jaskier went off to see his family (a very rare occurrence) or spent the time teaching at his old academy, he always came back with a nice layer of plush to him that Eskel loved to knead and feel. Hips softer, stomach making for a wonderful pillow, his thighs becoming squishable in a way that made Eskel want to bury himself between them.

And Eskel himself usually left home with a more rounded shape, but that was…

“That’s different.” It was nothing like this year, nothing like how he looked like now. No matter that he didn’t feel all that different, that perhaps it wasn’t that much more weight than the previous years, this time it was so much more.

Some thought reminded him that didn’t quite track, but the thought didn’t stick, tossed away because this time was different.

“How is it any different? Eskel just- your neck and chest are gorgeous, love, but can I please look at your face while I’m talking to you?”

Eskel relented, reluctantly letting up his hold so Jaskier could move back far enough to meet his eyes. At least he didn’t look as disgusted as he thought he might, his nose scrunched up in a way he’d always found rather cute, his lips pursed and promising him a tongue lashing if he wasn’t careful.

But his words weren’t harsh accusations when he continued, and his hands had yet to leave Eskel’s body. One came back up to stroke a thumb over his cheek as Jaskier spoke softly to him, his words filled with the wrong kind of wonder.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s different? Tell me.”

There had only ever been two people who could make him squirm under their gaze like that, and it was one of the main reasons Vesemir had had much better luck with him than any of the other wolf teachers. It was difficult to not listen, to bite back his tongue and not talk when leveled with that exact look and maybe it was a little concerning that Jaskier and Vesemir both shared that power over him.

Eskel sighed. Refused to look up at Jaskier, fixing his gaze somewhere in the dark curls that peeked up over his loose chemise. Fidgeted and tried not to fidget and only ended up fidgeting more.

“I didn’t,” he started, then stalled, not sure how to put all of his shortcomings to words. But he had to at least try, lest that look turn to the worse disappointed one. “I could have done better. Didn’t do anything all winter, really, just…”

As he went along, it didn’t get any easier, though Jaskier’s fingers had started to rub a soothing pattern into his back. The ones resting on his cheek held him softly even over his scars, never flinching away, never twitching in annoyance. Jaskier just held him and waited patiently, as if he had all the time in the world for Eskel to chew out what was wrong and different.

“On the way up the mountain, I fucked up my leg. Couldn’t train. Couldn’t help.” It all tasted as bitter then as it had during the winter. Forcing his brothers to pick up his slack, not being anything but a burden on the lot of them. Even when he tried he’d only made things worse, pissing Lambert off and making Geralt grouse at him like he was some baby witcher who’d never even gone out on the path before. All he’d been able to do was laze around and grow fat, muscles flabby and losing their strength, he should have been better and he could get better- would get better, for all of them.

Jaskier brushed his lips lightly against his jaw, and Eskel couldn’t help but look at him then. The way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, the way sunlight lit up his features and made his skin glow. Gods but his songbird was beautiful; how could he possibly deserve him, now especially?

Those lips brushed all the way up to his own, pausing every so often to leave soft kisses in their wake, until Jaskier was kissing him. It was one Eskel slowly melted into, pressing back, soft and slow and lingering until his hand was tangling in soft brown curls as he gently nipped the lip Jaskier had been worrying between his teeth.

“Dearheart,” Jaskier murmured between their kisses, his cornflower blue eyes gentle as they met Eskel’s, “I’m not sure I understand. Can you help me try?”

Eskel would be willing to do anything if Jaskier requested it in that voice. All he could do was nod and continue to brush their lips together, breathing him in, letting their noses brush together as well just to feel the soft contact between them.

“Thank you, love.” And he meant it, Eskel could hear it in his tone, could feel it in the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Now, please, can we try this again? You’ll have to talk to me like I’m the single most oblivious person in the world just to make sure I follow every step of the way. Alright?”

Eskel did. He started with his fall, how it had fucked up his leg so badly that Scorpion was the only reason he was still alive. Continued on to how he tried to hide the injury - and did not miss the pinched look that promised him they’d be revisiting that little fact at a later date, but Jaskier, somewhat out of character, managed to bite his tongue and save the lecture for later - and how it had ended up making it worse. How he’d been refused to contribute in any fashion after that, burdening his family and growing fat off their food anyway, his injury preventing him from keeping up with himself until he got worse and worse from it.

At some point, the hand that had been soothing circles into his back moved, slowly coming forward until it rested on his stomach. Eskel tensed when it did, though he fought past the urge to bite off his words and stop speaking. But eventually it wasn’t up to him anyway, Jaskier gently cutting him off with another kiss, and then another, and another until Eskel was melting though he hadn’t even realized how tense he’d become.

“Okay. Alright. Now, I’m going to repeat what I believe you’re trying to say, but love,” Jaskier kissed him again a few times, then reached up to kiss his nose, and Eskel wasn’t sure why he was being so extra tender with him today. “I need you to know I don’t believe these things, and that I’m not teasing or judging you for them. Alright?”

Eskel managed to nod but his words were gone. All he wanted to do was sleep, perhaps roll over so his stomach wasn’t pressing into Jaskier - it was probably uncomfortable though Jaskier hadn’t tried to pull away from him quite yet.

“You think you’re fat, and you think that’s a bad thing.” Eskel tried to nod at that as well but Jaskier shook his head, kissing his nose again as his hand began to gently caress the front of Eskel’s stomach. “You think that you...that you were a burden on your family, and that- this is the part that I’m struggling with, Esk, I’m having to make some assumptions here but- you think you’re not...worthy? If you’re not thinner and more visibly muscular, is that it?”

Jaskier’s face was pinched up when he said that. It wasn’t an expression Eskel had an easy time reading. His own lips pursed, but that sounded about right. He wasn’t good like this and was only holding them all back.

But Jaskier shook his head, such concern written in the wrinkle of his brow that Eskel could only frown at his own thoughts. “Esk. Eskel, dearest, dearheart. Why would you ever think that?”

His words were gentle but they were breathed in a rough whisper, Jaskier’s fingers finding their way underneath the shirt that could barely hold back Eskel’s stomach. But instead of pinching or grabbing the fat they found they just gently soothed over his skin, rubbing circles there as they’d done so many times before. As if he wasn’t different now, as if it was normal.

“I’m not…” He struggled to find the words, licking his lips, not for the first time wishing he was better at talking about this, talking about himself. Sure, he would never be as bad as Geralt, but Eskel struggled and floundered so much when the attention was on him that he could never begrudge Geralt’s stunted emotions. “Jask, I’m just not… I’m not attractive like this.”

Jaskier gasped, and Eskel’s eyes snapped back up to his face to find so many emotions flickering across it that he couldn’t keep track of them all. “Eskel you- you take that back this instant! You are the single most handsome man I’ve come across on this whole continent and that’s saying something.”

Even with Jaskier being so earnest with his words, Eskel would never believe him about that. Though his heart wanted to believe that Jaskier believed it, or at least believed him to be attractive, handsome, beautiful, precious, all of the things Jaskier had pressed against his skin and whispered in his ear over the years they’d been together.

That hand continued to caress his stomach as if it wasn’t pushing them apart, the calloused fingers pushing through the hairs there. Rubbing, lightly brushing the back of his fingers against him, gently painting patterns onto his skin as if there was a picture there that only Jaskier could see. Eskel had wanted to move away from the touch, had wanted to flinch at it, hide his shame, shy away, but under the gentle affection he found himself relaxing. It soothed the ache in his chest until he couldn’t listen to his own thoughts anymore, focused in on what Jaskier was telling him.

“Esk, there’s nothing wrong with this.” His touch became just the slightest bit firmer, massaging his stomach as he brushed their noses together, his other hand still on Eskel’s cheek. “This is good, this is healthy, it’s not something bad or wrong.” Jaskier kissed the protest that was forming right off of Eskel’s lips, not letting his mind catch up and throw out how Jaskier was very wrong about that. “Eskel I would much much rather see you like this - healthy, soft, thick and sexy - versus when the path gets rough and you’ve not had anything to eat for a week.”

“Sexy?”

“We’ll get back to that.” Pink suddenly splattered Jaskier’s cheeks and his eyes flickered down to Eskel’s stomach, though Eskel made no move to hide it from view. “Look, just, this is good. I need you to hear that, know that. The soft protects your muscles, something I know you already know, but it’s a good thing. Dehydration, starvation, those are terrifying and very much not what I want my beloved witcher to deal with during the winter.

“Speaking of, what is so wrong with getting some rest for your injured leg, which you could barely stand on let alone walk and fight and train on.”

Ah. There it was. Eskel had the decency to at least blush when he shot Jaskier a grin, though it earned the tip of his nose a nip - the whole while Jaskier’s hand never once pausing where it was slowly massaging and caressing his stomach.

“Bloody witchers, the lot of you are ridiculous.”

“You love me,” Eskel teased, half just to hear him admit it.

And Jaskier did, without a single moment’s hesitation, without any regret to be heard in his voice, “I do, dearest. I do. Every single inch of you.” Eskel’s heart picked up as Jaskier kissed down his jawline, peppering kisses down his neck, stopping at his collarbone as his hand slipped from his cheek to follow him. The hand at his stomach was still tracing idle patterns, not caring if his skin was scarred or not, as if every single inch of skin there deserved the attention - no matter how much there was.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered again, right over his heart, and Eskel’s breath caught in his throat.

Jaskier kissed down, down, down all the way to his stomach. Kissing his shirt on the way as if it wasn’t there, as if it was Eskel’s bare skin he was adoring with affection. And when he reached his stomach Eskel tried for a moment to suck it in, to make it appear smaller, but Jaskier was having none of it. He wrinkled his nose and scowled up at Eskel with a firm, “be nice to it, I love it,” and Eskel didn’t have it in himself to argue then.

Though Eskel was much stronger than Jaskier, he moved easily when Jaskier pushed him onto his back. His beloved songbird made himself cozy between his thighs as he gently caressed his stomach and sides, his nose brushing just above his naval before his lips joined in. And Eskel had to blink the tears away because Jaskier continued on. Peppered him with kiss after kiss, tracing the stretch marks that stood against his tanned skin, showing him over and over without poetic songs or honeyed words that he was loved. That this part of him was loved.

Kisses on his soft skin wherever Jaskier could reach. Gentle fingers caressing and tracing patterns. Eskel almost squirmed over it all, just the side of too much, but he wanted it. Wanted to feel loved, wanted to be loved, to deserve all of this. Though he didn’t believe he did, he wanted desperately, reaching out a hand to grasp one of Jaskier’s and hold onto him tightly.

“Jask.” It sounded like a request, though he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. Jaskier continued on kissing him, stopping to press his lips against a rather nasty burn scar on his side, kissing all the way up and pushing his shirt out of the way as he went. He made sure to love every scar he passed along the way, knowing each by heart though he knew so few of the stories - Eskel kept most of his past to himself, much to Jaskier’s usual chagrin, but today was not a day for pressed questions.

Eventually, Jaskier worked the shirt off entirely, throwing it off to the side and kissing Eskel’s lips once firmly before going back to his chest. He laid mostly against him, showering his softened chest with love and affection..

Careful with his grip, Eskel held him tight. Blinked away some of the more stubborn tears as Jaskier kissed soft words onto him, murmurs that etched their way onto his heart, and Eskel knew without a doubt that he would never forget this day no matter how long he might live.

But there were some doubts wriggling around in his head that he couldn’t quite shake. Instead of letting them fester, instead of letting them spiral out of control, Eskel held onto Jaskier tight, and with a small voice he reached out to him.

“Is it too much?”

Jaskier pressed a kiss right over his heart, blue eyes fluttering as he looked up at him, a look of sheer adoration that was just for him clear on that pretty face. “Is what too much, love?”

It took all that he was not to fidget or look away. “Me. My stomach. My- well, just me.”

“No, love.” Another kiss over his quickening heartbeat. “You’re perfect, you’d never be too much.”

“It didn’t fit anymore.”

“What didn’t?” Yet another, before Jaskier laid his ear against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns into his side.

“My shirt.” Eskel turned his head to see it laying crumpled on the ground.

“We’ll buy a new one.” The fingers lightened their touch on his skin, and Eskel had to bite his lip as they traveled across his ribs.

“I don’t have the coin to waste on new clothes.”

“I do.”

The fingers at his side continued on running over his ribs, and finally Eskel couldn’t keep back the fidgeting, his mouth quirking into an unintentional grin at the ticklish feeling. All of which did not go unnoticed as he jostled Jaskier with his jerking. His songbird first looked up at him with momentary confusion before he understood what had happened, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips as his stalled fingers started to tap against Eskel’s skin.

“I’m sorry, love, but is there something wrong?”

Eskel rolled his eyes but snickered when Jaskier poked just the right spot between two of his ribs, unable to help himself. And Jaskier, having discovered after all this time that Eskel was ticklish, of course descended upon him, assaulting both of his sides until Eskel’s laughter was booming in the air around them.

He could have shoved him off. Could have tossed him off the bed or held his hands above his head. But instead Eskel allowed it until a different emotion prickled at the corners of his eyes, and then he flipped them, laying on Jaskier and nosing into the crook of his neck and just. Just laid there, the ends of laughter still keeping him light, his beloved songbird doing a horrible impression of pouting while snuggling him close and kissing his hair.

“I love you.” The words caught on a lump in his throat but Eskel meant them so much, closing his eyes and burrowing himself into his songbird. And Eskel believed Jaskier when he said “I love you too,” believed him with his whole heart.

One afternoon could not erase the thoughts that had clouded Eskel’s mind, but it was a good afternoon, and Eskel could not find a single regret over coming to Jaskier that spring. He could never regret not hiding from him, not hiding his softer stomach and softer thighs, because in that moment he knew that Jaskier found him beautiful and beloved all the same with or without them.

The rest could come later. The rest of his mental healing, but for now this was enough of a start, and Eskel reveled in the tender love Jaskier showered him in.

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#jaskel #eskier #eskel x jaskier #jaskier x eskel #eskel/jaskier #jaskier/eskel #the witcher #fanfiction #mywriting #my summer bingo #someone please explain to me how i got this #-gestures vaguely at whole story-#out of TICKLING

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hpdabbles · 3 years ago

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Do you think Regulus will ever realise that Harry's "crush" is actually harry missing his godfather? Anyway, can you write Harry's continued 'Destroy the horcruxes' mission as well as the order's reaction to a death-eater helping them? Maybe in dumbledor's POV or even one of the mauraders.

Regulus found the book of songs by accident while searching for clues on where his husband had disappeared to.

Songs filled with longing for Sirius Black and the life they could have had after the war. It broke him to pieces.

He's man enough to admit he has fallen for his husband, he can't really claim when it happened just, that at some point during the months he come to know Harry, he woke in the dead of night reaching for a man with green eyes and a madding smile, chasing the whisps of his dream Starlight, I'm right here for you.

He is madly in love with Harry, who was equally infuriating, mysterious, and soothing. A man who made him face the worst parts of himself and yet, acted like Regulus was not less for them, instead, his imperfections made him perfect.

A man who disappeared in the middle of a war and no matter how much this book of songs broke him he needed to find Harry.

It had been four days since he lost saw him, after a nasty raid that showed Regulus really shouldn't be on the front lines compared to Harry who was a straight beast on the battlefield.

Regulus took down two Death Eaters on his own, struggling the whole time, while Harry not only protected the Thomas family but took out seven at the same time. Even if the raid turned into a trap midway, they managed to get out with everyone in the Thomas household safe, and Harry only bleeding from four different wounds.

Compared to many other victims of attacks this was a miracle.

They were lucky that Harry had saved Mr.Thomas once before when he refused to join the Death Eaters. Harry hadn't known the man's name at the time, just saving him because he could, and handing him a charmed coin just in the case, thus giving him the means to send out a distress call when the Death Eaters attempted a second attack, this time finding the man sleeping next to his pregnant muggle wife.

You would think Harry would be happy to have prevented a tragic death but it was upon learning Mr. Thomas's name that his face paled. When they came back to the tent, Harry had been sullen, running his hands over themselves, looking like he had killed his own mother.

Regulus repeated questioning him about it, even while dressing Harry's wounds with the very advanced healing magic he learned while being support for Death Eaters until Harry had blurted. "Dean's younger siblings. He loved them. He loved his step-dad. I...I killed his family."

He refused to speak more on it. Regulus had no idea who Dean was, none of the Death eaters were killed, only restrained and those were the only people he could have killed.

But Harry remained resigned about the deaths of Dean's younger siblings and step-father and what Regulus do if not honor them? He set up a memorial altar in the middle of the tent's living area as per pureblood tradition in mourning and Harry had looked at him with such gratitude it set his heart aflame.

Harry had left the tent sometime during the night while he was sleeping, something his husband had a nasty habit of doing even months after their marriage.

He knew, on some level, that Harry was doing important things for the war. He wasn't quite sure what they were, other than searching for the remaining Horcruxes since Voldemort had not hidden them in a place Harry knew.

It irked him that Harry left him behind, fretting like a child instead of his equal. But Harry always came back, if not hours then at least within a day.

Something has happened to him.

He puts the book back, knowing that his broken heart has no place in war. It is not the only one weeping. Regulus knows that others have lost people to the war on both sides, and unless he sees it with his own eyes, he refuses to believe Harry is one of the dead.

Searching his room has yielded no clues, nor anything else in the tent. He had tried to see if anyone had any information two days ago to the same results. It could be that no one had been paying attention to the man but his husband is still too much of a high-profile figure for everyone to have overlooked him.

Regulus is stumped and with no other idea what to do, he puts on his cloak and swallows his pride. He needs help, which means he can only ask one particular group for said help.

He makes his way to the wizarding world, keeping his face hidden under a heavy cloak. Around him many people, rush by in hurry, eyes darting around just as weary as Regulus. There is silence in the streets, no one would dare linger in public for too long now that the war has taken a turn for the worst in the favor of Death Eaters, so no one pays mind when Regulus scurries to the apartment complex that houses the less than liked members of their society.

This place housed vampires, werewolves, and the poor who couldn't afford anywhere else. He only cares about one poor man in the place, a certain werewolf that Harry was sure was a Fire Hatchling.

Regulus only knows about it because Harry had created a string board in the middle of their kitchen to track the movement of the Order of Phoenix. Once, the shorter man had sat him down and aggressively explained who was who and how they were moving.

Since the Order of Phoniex is a resistance group that was far more elusive than the Death Eaters, Regulus wasn't very sure Harry got them right but he looked half-crazed, his hair sticking all over the place in stress as he traced string after string explaining how this evidence and that evidence proved the identity of Fire Hatchlings

Harry had loved when Regulus coined the name "Fire Hatchlings" for those in the order as most of them were young and well, the phoenix is fire, crossing out "Order members" with an evil laugh.

Regulus had found him unexplainably adorable.

Shaking away the memories, he pushes forward, only hesitating for a moment once he got to room thirty-three, have of the large three had fallen off. Next to the door, is a ward anchor, hidden to look like a pot of a flower. He only noticed it, since it was one of the larger areas with strings that surrounded it, proof this is a home to a fire hatchling after all.

Of course, his mad husband was right about this. Hopefully, he would be willing to help him find the man so he could hear Harry gloat about it.

Regulus knocks.

The moment the door opens three things happen at once.

First, months of training daily with Harry gives him the proper reflexes to drop to the ground as a hex shoots right where his head was a second ago.

Second, He throws his own spell in the same second, his Patronus of a tiger leaps up, knocking Remus Lupin off his feet, pinning the werewolf down with a sneer.

Third, Harry tied to a chair with James Potter and Frank Longbottom pointing their wands at him shouts in glee. "I told you he would find me!"

Regulus only has a second to blow him a kiss and wink-he will regret the action later, embarrassed by his forward behavior- before Longbottom and Potter are on him. He will not lie and claim he thinks he is ready for them, but Harry was the best darn defense teacher anyone can ask for.

That man taught him how to cast a Patronus with nothing more than a good memory. Regulus had gained some muscle by running away from Harry's powerful spells too.

He knew more spells than most wizards did but never had the confidence to cast, which according to Harry, his magic sense and failed each time. Now, Regulus has a full arsenal of spells from all over the world, from across time as his obsession with haunting the library has caused.

His love has successfully whipped him into shape simply for pushing him to try and training him in his sort comings. He is happy to find he is able to keep the two Aurors on their toes as Harry cheers him on.

Harry's face is covered in wounds, his wearing the same clothes he had when he snuck out and there are traces of bile on his lap and floor around him.

He was captured by the Fire Hatchlings and was in the middle of being interrogated. Of course, he was.

"Give me my husband!" Regulus sneers happy his tiger is keeping the werewolf busy. He thinks he would not be able to beat all three.

"Stand down!" Longbottom shouts back throwing up a shield to hide behind as Regulus three rapid-fire hex hit against it.

"My hero!" Harry crows, seconds before he flings himself, chair and all, at Potter his magic whirling around in wandless magic to leave him off the ground. He flies across the room crashing into a shook Potter's back knocking the man down. "My knight in shining armor!"

He then continues to use his own bounded body as a batting ram against the confused wizard, screeching the whole time.

It's such a strange sight that all other wizards stop to watch, horrified to see such a muggle way to use magic, beating a pureblood, until the chair breaks over Potter's head.

the way the wood shatters has Longbottom turning slightly ready to run to Potter's aid. That's all the opening Regulus needs to hit with the strongest sleeping charm he knows, watching the man drop, already snoring.

"James!" Lupin horrified scream has Harry struggling out of the remaining bounds to pick the man up. He presses his hands on Potter's neck, checking for a pulse.

Regulus winces when Lupin swings an arm out, knocking off the tiger with werewolf strength, it causes a slight ache in his chest to see the silver glowing animal slam against the wall. "Get away from him!"

Lupin is not prepared for Harry to pick up Potter's wand and start firing spells at him, much faster than any of them. He tries to put up a fight he really does, but it is obvious that Lupin is outclassed.

Regulus sneaks closer until he can press his wand against the back of Lupin's head and casts the same sleeping charm.

In the silence that follows, Regulus can only look up in time to see a flash of relief as Harry gently puts Potter on the ground.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes Starlight, you came just in time." Harry smiles. He looks exhausted now that the battle has ended. "I finished"

"Finished?"

"The Hoxruces. They're gone."

Regulus blinks only for Harry to pass out too with a laugh, the sound of joy fading out as he hit the ground.

#Hpdabbles #Harry Potter #How to break the timeline #Part 5 #Harry is the evidence meme #Regulus snopping #The Fire Hatchlings out here causing trouble #Harry has to face changes can hurt his friends even when he saves them.

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halfway-happyyy · 4 years ago

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I've been losing my mind working at a mall on a stand type of thing all by myself and was wondering if you could write a nice piece of Alex coming over to help me spend the time after I text him something like "Please come save me, this is so boring." which leads to him flirting with me and maybe taking me to his place for some good time. 😏 All help to spend my shift entertained is so very welcomed. 😂 Also, love your writing to bits and you're my favourite writer in a long time. ❤

hello friend! thanks for requesting! changed this up a little bit, hope ya don’t mind. it is under a cut because it’s a little long and spicy. tw: oral sex

“I have something to tell you,”

Disappointment dripped from his tone even over the crackle of the telephone wire and she knew immediately what he was about to tell her.

“I won’t be home for Christmas this year, kid.”

She let the silence take shape around them, took a hearty sip of her wine while she counted the seconds in between and then simply said, “Okay, Alex.”

“I tried to figure out a way to get away from set for a few days and it’s just… it’s not in the cards this year. I’m sorry, my love.”

She had never once faulted him for this. How could she? Acting- working, was something that came as naturally to him as breathing and so it was something that she accepted when they decided to give this thing a proper go. She just wasn’t always happy about it. “Don’t apologize, Alex. I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’m sure there will be mountains of leftovers for you, so we can have our own dinner when you get here.”

An audible sigh of relief on the other end. “Have I told you yet today?”

Her face broke into a wide grin and she shook her head. “Nope.”

“I love you endlessly, kid.”

God, just hearing those five words never got old.

“I love you too, Alex.”

Old man Winter had taken her city by storm, and a healthy heaping of fresh snow covered nearly every surface in sight. As the coffee machine in the corner of the café spluttered to life- the familiar first sounds of a day on the verge of starting, she watched the world outside her small window rouse from its stillness. It never really went to sleep, but there were moments that the noise dwindled to a low hum and she found something satisfying in watching it resume its natural cacophony. Her eyes fell shut as she inhaled the tantalizing aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the croissants baking in the oven and she turned the corner to the back room to marvel at her baker Cait, as she rolled out the second batch of bread dough for the day. An apprentice baker at the tender age of twenty-two, and already inexplicably talented, she had been a total godsend to her team, and she smiled at the thought of it.

“Good morning, Cait. Coffee’s ready when you are.”

Her baker glanced up from her ministrations, traces of flour dusted her forehead and the side of her cheek and she beamed happily. “Sounds good boss. I’m just about finished with this run.”

Nodding her head, she ducked out of the back room, returning to the front so that she could finish putting the last tray of fresh butter tarts into the front showcase. Dusting her hands on her apron, she surveyed the café one last time before heading to the front window to flip around the closed sign. She stood for a moment to watch fat snowflakes fall in droves from the steel-grey sky and wondered how busy the shop could possibly be with weather like that. The timer on the oven sounded the end of the croissants baking time, and she walked the short distance to the rational where she pulled on a pair of mitts and took them out, placing them on the silver rack next to her. Tossing the mitts on top of the rack, she took the liberty of making Cait’s coffee the way that she knew she liked it and brought it into the back room for her.

“Think it’s going to be busy today?” Cait asked, with a sigh.

She glanced up at the calendar above their heads and frowned. Sunday before Christmas. “Hard to tell. But I hope so,” She had been about to say something else, but the familiar tinkle of bells above the front door rang out signaling the arrival of a customer. Taking a healthy sip of the delicious amber liquid, she excused herself to attend to their first patron of the day. Rounding the corner into the café, her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of Alexander’s figure in the doorway; head down and brushing flakes of snow from the sleeves of his navy pea coat. When he was finished, he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. “Hi, kid.”

She untied the apron around her stomach and threw it onto the hook next to her, closing the gap between them in seconds. Reaching up on tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “You’re here,” She murmured, breathlessly.

He rubbed reassuring circles into her back and nodded his head. “Surprise.”

They stayed embraced for a long while, each reveling in the feeling of being home in one another’s arms.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, eventually.

“Yes, coffee please. It was an early morning.”

She reached up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and excused herself to make his coffee. “Anything else?” She called out.

He cocked his head to the side; a simpering look tugged the edges of his lips upward and she could not ignore the mischievous glint in his blue eyes, or the way that it caused goosebumps to bloom over her arms. “Yes, actually. I was wondering if you’d like to come home with me.”

Her eyes widened and she elicited a breathless laugh. “Come home with you? Right now?”

Alexander nodded his head finitely. “Yes, right this very minute.”

She had been about to protest, but Cait cleared her throat from behind her and stepped forward, her voice low. “Henry just pulled in out back. Go enjoy yourself.”

“What about the shop? What if it gets busy?”

Cait resisted the urge to roll her hazel eyes, and instead shrugged her shoulders. “We can handle it. Go on.”

Alexander lifted his coffee in cheers and tossed a wink her way. “Thanks, Cait.”

Their walk home had been silent save for the muted crunch of snow beneath their boots. There had been a lot of things that she wanted to ask him, a lot that she wanted to say to him, but she found she was content just to have him beside her, to have the warmth of his hand envelop her own. They had managed to make it home before the snow started getting really bad, and she was beyond grateful to have the rest of the day with him. Discarding their winter attire in the front hall closet, he led her by hand to their bedroom at the end of the hall where he entered and took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve missed you kid,” He mused. She closed the gap between them to stand between his parted thighs and cradled his head in her hands. His arms encircled her waist, and he pressed a series of gentle kisses to her clothed chest.

“I’ve missed you too, Alex.”

He pulled away to gaze up at her, his glassy blue orbs alight with a fire she had come to recognize well. She could lose herself for hours in those eyes if she wanted to; flecks of gold in whirlpools of azure, they were her favourite physical feature of his.

Alexander pushed a stray whisp of hair behind her ear, sighing contedly. “What is that breathtaking mind of yours thinking of, hm?” He murmured.

She traced a featherlight fingertip from his temple down to the chiseled line of his jaw. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

Alexander brought her hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it, tenderly. “Undress for me?”

She stepped back against the wall to do as she was asked, toying with the hem of her t shirt as she did so. She lifted it up past her abdomen, over her neck, and dropped it to the hardwood floor beneath her. Unzipping her jeans, she shimmied out of the constricting denim and watched it pool around her feet. She noticed the erection growing steadily in the crotch of her lover’s own jeans and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth at the mere thought of it. Reaching around her back for the clasp on her bra, she undid that too and let the flimsy fabric fall to the ground, gathering with the rest of the discarded clothing. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled the panties from her legs and kicked them to the side, now entirely naked before him. Alexander cleared his throat and rose from the bed, only to drop to his knees, fully clothed, before her. His arms circled her hips as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her lower belly. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he got them slick with his spit, and teased them at her wet entrance. Quivering with unbridled anticipation above him, the weight of what was about to happen, was not at all lost on her as he pressed fiery kisses to the tops of her thighs and hipbones. Wordlessly, he had her lift her leg over his shoulder as he bent forward to lick a long, wet stripe up her slit. Stopping at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, he pressed warm, wet circles into it and was rewarded with a long, low groan from the base of her throat.

“Just like that, Alex…” She gasped.

He nodded against her. “I’ve got you, kid.”

Pressing a kiss to her clit, he repeated the kitten-lick up her core, earning him another loud, breathy moan. Pulling away from her, he blew a steady stream of cool air over her heated center, grinning at how her body sang for him. “You’re not going to last long, baby girl.”

She tilted her back against the wall, fingers finding purchase in the locks of hair that had grown tenfold since she had last laid eyes on him. She began to massage his head methodically, which caused him to groan longingly against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of white-hot pleasure straight to the center of her clit. Licking long, firm stripes up her core with the flat of his tongue he eventually began to fuck her with it, causing her to tremble violently above him.

“Don’t stop…” Her voice wavered warningly, as she ground herself against his face. Alexander listened to her words and to the exact way in which her body responded to his care and kept up the rhythm in which he was eating her out. Her orgasm began to build like a fire in the pit of her belly, the familiar coil of nerves wound unbearably tight and ready to unravel at a moment’s notice. “Oh, god…” Alexander gripped her hips in his hands, his fingernails leaving miniscule crescent-shaped indentations in the soft skin there. He alternated between fucking her with his tongue, and suckling at her clit, grazing his teeth along the sensitive bundle of nerves as he did so. She arched her back against his mouth, reveling in the extra sensation of his stubbled jaw against the velvety skin of her inner thighs. “Oh god, Alex- He groaned and nodded against her tight, wet core, coaxing the looming release from her. She stilled against his face, arching her back high against the wall as her orgasm ripped through her like a blaze out of control. She shivered against him as he continued to lap up every ounce of honey she had to offer him and when she had recovered for the most part, he placed open-mouthed kisses to her clit and rose off his knees, to tower above her. His eyes- though still the same hue of blue they were before he had gifted her with her orgasm, were now nearly black, his pupils dilated and blown over with lust. “I want you to come for me now,” She murmured, voice entirely wrecked for the time being. She peeled Alexander’s shirt from his body, throwing it next to the pile of her own discarded clothing. Unzipping his jeans, she pulled the useless material from his toned legs and tossed them off to the side. Glancing up, she noticed the head of his erect cock straining hard against the fabric of his sky-blue boxer briefs, had begun to leak pre-come, leaving a small, wet circle in the thin fabric. Her mouth watered hungrily at the memory of how it tasted, as she hooked two fingertips into the waistband of his underwear and smirked up at him. She teased the boxers down his thighs, his hard cock springing free from the all-consuming material. She watched a bead of pre-come glisten at the head- the urge to lap it up was almost unbearable.

“Go on, baby…” Alexander murmured. She took him into her hands, grasping him firmly, and licked a long stripe up from the base of his cock to the head, reveling in salty brininess of the fluid gathered at the head of his cock. She couldn’t resist taking more of him into her mouth, and she did until she felt him at the base of her throat. He groaned loudly and pushed a little farther in, causing tears to spring up in the depths of her eyes. “Fuck,” He groaned loudly. “Always taking this cock so fucking well, baby girl… every inch I have to give you,” He pulled out of the hot wetness of her mouth and jutted his chin out toward the bed. “On the bed, babe…” She passed the back of her hand over her mouth and rose from her feet to do as she was told. Falling back against the down pillows breathlessly, she watched with a hooded gaze as Alexander clambered onto the bed before her. He crawled up over her body so that he was straddling her chest and took his cock into his hand. “I know how much you love watching me touch myself.” He began to move a tight fist up and down the length of himself, tossing his head back each time he passed over a particularly sensitive spot. “Fuck,” He breathed out.

She watched a bead of pre-come roll down the underside of his shaft, and swallowed hard. “I want another taste,”

Alexander swiped a fingertip beneath his head to collect some of the moisture there and held it out for her to lick off, which she did happily. Sucking his fingertip into her mouth, he let her keep it there while he worked his fist harder down the length of his cock. “Jesus,” He gasped under his breath. “I’m close, baby…”

“Come for me, Alex… make a mess.”

Her pleas seemed to spur his orgasm on, and he dropped his head back as a low, desperate groan ripped from the base of his throat. His fist stilled against his sensitive head as he tumbled over the edge in violent waves, coating her breasts in his warm, opaque fluid. “Fuck,” He sighed after a few moments of trying to regulate his breathing. He lifted himself from her and off the bed, disappearing into their on-suite bathroom in search of a towel to clean her off. Approaching her, he wiped the towel gently over her chest and cleaned her off as best as he could. Sidling down into bed beside her, he gathered her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“Thanks for surprising me and rescuing me from work today, Alex.” She yawned, softly.

He kissed her tenderly. “Any damn day, kid. Merry Christmas.”

🤶🎄🎅🎁

#ho ho ho #happy holidays friends #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alex sstuff #writing #tw: oral sex

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kingexpl0sionmurder · 5 years ago

Text

R U Mine? - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki / F!reader Rating: 16+ Warnings: Profanity, recreational drug use Words: 3,504 AN: Hi this is the first BNHA fic I’ve ever written and published on the internet so uh...hi there. This is part of a collab put together by the wonderful @heroheads ❤️❤️❤️ Masterlist for the collab is HERE.

Buy me a KoFi?

-----

Sometimes it astounded you how dumb Denki Kaminari could be.

He wasn’t a complete moron. At least, not all the time. Sometimes he could be really smart and insightful. He was competent when it came to using his quirk when it counted. He’d even surprised you in English class occasionally when he answered a question correctly about what you were reading.

This time, though, it was not one of his shining moments.

You were lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it) enough to share a wall with the electric hero in the UA dorms. He was usually decent enough to be quiet. Sometimes you could hear music through the wall, but it was never loud enough to complain about. He didn’t slam his door like Bakugou or stand creepily outside your room like Mineta. He was a decent neighbor and it wasn’t so bad that you’d ended up next to him.

However, he did have one habit that made you roll your eyes, and on that boring Saturday night at one in the morning, you were unsurprised to catch a whiff of something pungent wafting underneath your closed bedroom door.

You didn’t care that Denki smoked weed. You did too, occasionally. The issue was that the dumbass liked to take bong rips in the middle of his dorm room without shoving a towel under the door or opening a window. He was just asking to get caught and chucked right out of the hero program at this rate.

You sighed, closing the book you’d been reading and standing from your bed. If he wasn’t going to try and prevent himself from getting caught, you had to take matters into your own hands. He was your friend, and that on top of the fact that you were harboring less than platonic feelings for him, made it feel like you had to help him. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to warn him, and you knew he probably didn’t even realize that he was stinking up the entire floor. Again.

Your slippers were quiet on the linoleum flooring as you stepped into the hallway, the smell of marijuana growing stronger as you walked next door. You knocked twice, stepping back and waiting as you heard Denki mutter quietly, knowing he was working on clearing up what he was doing in case you were a teacher, or even worse, Iida.

“If you don’t think Aizawa knows what weed smells like, Denks, then you’re stupider than I thought.” You said loud enough for him to hear you, holding back a giggle when you heard him curse to himself.

The door cracked open a moment later, bloodshot yellow eyes peering at you through the opening. “What’s the password?”

“Listen to me, derp face,” you said fondly, ignoring his request. “You need a towel under the door or a spoof if you’re going to keep insisting on hotboxing your room.” You waved your arm in front of your face as remnants of smoke poured into the hallway.

“A what? And that’s not the password.” He frowned, squinting at you.

“It’s takoyaki.” You finally conceded, rolling your eyes when he opened the door wider and grinned.

“Correct. You may enter.”

“God, I could blindfold you with a piece of dental floss right now, you fucking stoner.” You stayed put, folding your arms over your chest. “Do you really not know what a spoof is?”

“No?” Your yellow-haired friend blinked at you stupidly, and you sighed.

“Do me a favor, just don’t smoke anything for a few and open the balcony doors or something. Give me 10 minutes, I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, turning and walking towards the elevators, and pressing the button.

“What are you doing?” He whispered loudly at you from down the hallway.

“Saving your life,” You said cryptically as the elevator doors slid open. You stepped inside, disappearing from his view and shaking your head.

You walked out of the elevator and into the common area, rolling your eyes at the sight before you.

Bakugou, Kirishima, and Sero were all fast asleep on one couch. Sero had his head tilted back, soft snores coming from his parted mouth. Beside him, Kirishima was snuggled against Bakugou’s chest, the blond’s head leaning against his with his arm wrapped snugly around his waist. Mina and Kyoka were on the other couch, both fast asleep as well. The TV was on, the tail end of a movie you recognized still playing, your friends succumbing to sleep before they could finish watching.

You padded by them quietly, moving towards the kitchen. You headed straight for the counter, plucking the roll of paper towels off it’s holder and then turning to find the kitchen scissors. There was a lot more paper left on the roll than you’d been hoping, but you shrugged, using the scissors to cut the cardboard roll out of the middle. You knew there would be questions later, but you decided you didn’t care, and would probably just act like you had no idea what happened.

Cardboard roll in hand, you made one more trip to the laundry room, grabbing a handful of dryer sheets and shoving them in the pocket of your sweatpants, before heading to the elevator again. You had half a mind to wake your friends, but decided the less people upstairs in their rooms meant the less people to complain about Denki and his foul smelling habit.

One last stop in your room had you searching for a hair elastic, and then you were back at Denki’s door, knocking again. You sniffed the air, noticing the smell had dissipated slightly. It didn’t take long for him to answer, his eyes still half lidded as he smiled at you.

“Welcome back, Sparky.” He giggled. “Miss me?”

“So much. Every moment I was gone felt like an eternity, Denks.” You deadpanned, pushing past him and smacking him over the head with the cardboard roll as you walked by.

“I knew you were into me. Sero owes me a thousand yen.” He chuckled, rubbing at his head idly and closing the door behind you.

You didn’t correct him, walking further into the room and surveying the area. Walking over to the balcony doors, you pulled them shut and pulled the dark zebra print curtains closed. “Don’t you have any music you can play?”

“Trying to set the mood? I can vibe with that.” He shuffled over to his Bluetooth speaker and hit the button, pulling out his phone.

“If you put on Bob Marley I’m leaving.” You threatened.

“No Marley? Too stereotypical, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow as you sat on his bed, pulling the dryer sheets from your pocket. “What’s that for?”

“Shush, let me work. Put on some Arctic Monkeys or something and get over here.” You instructed.

“Bossy.” He grumbled, but he had an easy smile as he clicked around on his screen, the beginning notes of R U Mine? playing from the speaker.

When he was settled beside you, you got to work. “Listen, I’m going to show you how to make this once, and you can keep it. Just make sure you switch out the dryer sheets occasionally to keep it fresh.”

“Okay, but what is it?” He asked, confused, picking up one of the sheets and rubbing it between his fingers.

“It’s called a spoof.” You explained, settling more comfortably. “Alright, so you take a cardboard roll like this one,” You held it up to show him. “Then you fold the dryer sheet over like this to cover the hole on one end.” You demonstrated, holding the edges around the tube. You used your teeth to pull the elastic off your wrist and over your hand, using it to secure the dryer sheet onto the tube. “Got it so far?”

Denki just nodded.

“Okay, then you take the rest of the sheets and shove them into the other side.” You flipped the tube, taking the remaining sheets and separating them before shoving them into the tube as far as they would go. “Where’s your bong?”

Denki hopped up, pulling the bong from its hiding place on the far side of his dresser. He brought it over to you, reaching into his pocket to hand you a lighter.

You dropped the tube beside you, shifting on the bed until your back was leaning against the wall, your legs stretched out in front of you. You put your mouth on the end of the glass, one hand hovering near the bowl as you flicked the lighter and lit the bud that was nestled inside it. The embers flared as you breathed in, water bubbling quietly as the tube filled with smoke. When you were ready, you lifted the bowl from the glass to clear it, the smoke traveling up the glass tube and into your lungs.

Denki watched with rapt attention as you sat back, holding the smoke in your lungs for a moment. You dropped the lighter and moved your hand to find the cardboard tube you’d constructed. Keeping eye contact with him, you moved the open end of the cardboard to your lips and blew the smoke into it.

The smoke came out the other side, smelling a little less like weed, and a lot more like fresh laundry.

“Holy shit.” Denki breathed, eyes wide. “That’s…”

“Now you try.” You held out the bong to him and he took it, shifting to sit close beside you, his arm brushing against yours, and his legs straightened out in front of him as well. You searched for the lighter on his blanket and gave it to him, sitting back to watch.

His attention moved to what he was doing, repeating the same steps. You tried not to watch as he breathed in, his chest moving as his lungs expanded and he cleared the glass. You held out to spoof and he took it, putting it to his lips and blowing the smoke through it, white tendrils whisping out the other side and filling the room with the smell of clean spring.

The room was quiet except for the music as you both watched the smoke dissipate. He turned to look over at you again, his smile contagious.

“I have two things to say.” He started, swallowing thickly. “First of all, you’re a genius. Like seriously? Holy fuck. Where did you learn that?”

You shrugged. “I’ve picked up some tricks I guess.”

“Damn.” He licked his lips, offering the bong back to you. “Second of all, I don’t know why, but watching you hit that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I should not be turned on as much as I am right now.”

You blushed. “Denki, really? Don’t-“ You took it from him, poking at the ash in the bowl idly, wanting to look anywhere but at him.

“I thought we were a great team in class already, but this just adds a whole other level on top of that.” He giggled. “What would I do without you?”

He was right, you were a great team. Your quirks perfectly complemented each other. Denki could conjure electricity and wield it, although sloppily. He wasn’t able to direct it well without his point and shoot, and had issues with overloading himself if he went too hard.

You could wield electricity too, but you couldn’t create it. You needed a source, which was why your costume came with a taser. You didn’t need it with Denki around, however. He could zap you and give you what you needed, and then you could direct it wherever you pleased. When he charged up beside you, you could take the excess energy from him and keep him from making himself stupid. The two of you were a force to be reckoned with in class, and you always talked about the possibility of working together once you graduated.

“You’d probably be kicked out of here.” You joked, taking the lighter from his outstretched hand. “If Aizawa catches you, you’re toast.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking. Could you smell it in your room?” He sighed, letting his head hit the wall behind him.

“Yeah, dude. It was pretty bad. You’re lucky half the class is downstairs and passed out on the couch.” You took another hit, reaching out blindly for the spoof when you had the smoke in your lungs. You blushed when your hand grazed against his in your search, nearly choking. You managed to get it to your lips before you coughed it out, letting your head thump back against the wall.

“Bakugou and Kiri cuddling again?” He asked, taking the bong back when you held it out towards him.

You snorted. “Of course.” It was no secret in your group of friends that those two were in love with each other. The betting pool was getting competitive, all of you waiting for the moment that Katsuki got his head out of his ass and finally made the sturdy hero his boyfriend.

Denki took a hit, using the spoof again, before leaning down and pushing his finger into the bowl. “It’s cashed. You want more?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m okay.”

He hummed, shuffling off the bed to hide the bong again, opening a drawer and shoving the spoof inside.

You didn’t want to smoke and run, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome either, so you began shuffling off the bed as well.

“You leaving?” He asked, pouting when he turned around.

You blushed. “I mean, I can stay if you want. I wasn’t doing anything important anyway. I just kind of barged in here to begin with so-”

“Dude, no! I always want you to hang.” He said shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We don’t get to hang out enough, just the two of us. We’ve always got the Bakusquad around.”

He was right, so you just nodded, biting your lip. You were feeling floaty, so it made the anxiety of hanging out with Denki without your other friends fade to the background.

“Great!” He grinned, walking over and pulling the curtain back, opening the balcony door to filter air out the room. He clicked on the lamp on his desk across from the bed, and then shuffled over to hit the switch on the wall, turning off the main light, casting the room into near darkness. You watched as he moved back towards you and crawled onto the bed beside you and squirmed until his head was resting on his pillow. “Come up here.”

You turned, laying down beside him on your back, the music still playing in the background. Your eyes caught the plastic glow in the dark stars he had stuck to the ceiling above the bed. “Speaking of the Bakusquad, what were you saying about Sero owing you a a thousand yen?”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Well...I kind of told him that I thought you might have a thing for me.”

You turned to look at him, feeling your face heat up. He looked embarrassed, his gaze locked on the fake green stars. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t serious. I never thought you’d ever think about me that way, which is kind of how the conversation started anyway.” He turned to meet your eyes finally, shrugging.

You hummed. “Would that be a bad thing though?” You wondered out loud.

“Would it be a bad thing if you had a crush on me?” His eyes widened slightly. “No, I think it would be a good thing.”

“Oh.” You were both quiet, staring at each other.

“Wait, do you?” He turned a little so he was facing you fully. “Be honest.”

You turned on your side as well. “Well, I mean…” You were suddenly nervous. He said it would be a good thing though, and you wanted to know exactly what he meant by that. You sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

He blinked a few times, like his brain was trying to catch up to the conversation. “You like me?”

“Denki, you are making this so awkward right now. Yes, I do. Happy?” You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. His lack of positive reaction was not helping.

“Shit.” He whispered. You studied his facial expression, watching as his tongue slipped out of his mouth to wet his lips.

“If I just ruined everything just tell me and I’ll go back to my room and never come out again.” You mumbled, fully prepared to slip backwards off the mattress and hide forever.

He didn’t reply, his hand moving to your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. You shivered involuntarily at the contact. “You didn’t ruin anything. I think it just makes this easier.”

“Wha-” You started to ask, fully confused. You were cut off when Denki leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your mouth parting with a small gasp. Your hands fisted into the front of his t-shirt and pulled him closer on their own volition, your body reacting without a second thought.

He hummed, his fingers threading into your hair as he shuffled closer, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He pulled back slowly to breathe, his nose brushing against yours, his breath warm and mixing with yours. “This okay?”

“Mmm.” Your head felt fuzzy, but you felt incredible. This was a moment you’d thought of since your first year at UA. Denki had been one of your first friends at school, you’d been hanging onto your crush on him ever since, settling for spending time with him as friends, too afraid to do anything about it. You were used to the constant teasing from your squad about the two of you, and Mina’s nagging about when you were going to man up and make a move. It was hard to focus on any of that when he was here in front of you, laying on his bed, his hand moving down to grasp your hip and pull you impossibly close, your bottom lip between his teeth.

When he pulled away again, his golden eyes were bright, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your thoughts moving slowly. You kind of regretted smoking as much as you did, afraid you were imagining this moment. “I didn’t even know you wanted to do that.”

He groaned. “I know. I’m the worst. I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way and then I just…”

“So what you’re saying is you like me too?” You asked, realizing it was probably a stupid question, but wanting to make sure you were on the same page.

“Yeah, like, a lot.” He snorted. “We are bad at this.”

“So bad.” You sighed. “I’m just really baked and kind of worried I’m dreaming.”

“Not a dream. Unless we’re having the same dream, which would be kind of freaky.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “That would be a fucked up quirk huh? Like, if you could make people have the same dreams and then they wake up and realize it was all a lie?”

“This is the most Denki thing ever.” You giggled. He looked confused so you continued. “I just mean that you got me here, in your room, on your bed, fully ready to make out until we fall asleep, and you’re going on a tangent thinking about weird dream quirks.”

He nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Get used to it, I’m not always the smartest.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not complaining. Get over here, discount Pikachu.” You pulled him by his shirt and kissed him again, smiling against his lips when he grunted in surprise. You let your hands travel to his back, nails raking lightly against his shirt, legs tangled together. He shivered and gripped your hips tighter. You felt a jolt of electricity from his fingers surge through you.

He pulled back with a chuckle. “Guess we’re lucky you can absorb my electricity, huh?” You hummed, smirking at him. “You better be careful. If you charge me up too much there’s no telling what I’ll do to you.”

“Oh my god that’s so hot.” He groaned, kissing you again. “Seriously, fuck.”

“Maybe I should go back to my room,” you said in between presses of his lips against yours. “Don’t want to start something we can’t finish anyway.”

“What? No, don’t go.” He pouted. “You can’t leave me by myself for too long, you’ve seen what happens!” His fingers moved a piece of your hair from your face, his expression twisting into a suggestive grin. “Plus, who says we won’t finish?”

You huffed, rolling away from him. “That’s right, when left alone you smoke out your room like a dumbass. How could I forget.”

“But that won’t happen anymore, ‘cause I’ve got you to make sure I don’t fuck up.” He grinned, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah, you do.”

#denki kaminari #kaminari denki #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader

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yugyummygot7reactions · 4 years ago

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Into the Night - 6

Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Finale tomorrow!!!! 8pm!!!

Pairing: Youngjae x You

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1819

Warnings: Solo Play

And just like that he was gone. As you drifted to sleep, you thought you felt someone still watching you, but you didn’t think Jinyoung would have stayed around for a round two.

You looked around and saw no one there, but what you didn’t know is that when the clock struck midnight there would be someone standing in the corner, ready for his own fun with you.

As midnight passed, a young man appeared in the room next to the bed, inches from your sleeping face. “I hope you don’t sleep as long as last time,” he said as he tried to brush your hair from your eyes, his hand instead gliding through your skin, “I only have one day a year to be seen and heard safely and I don’t want to waste it alone. Why do ghosts have to only have Devil’s Night to wander? Wouldn’t it make more sense for a demon to have that restriction?” The voice woke you up. It was smooth and gave you goosebumps. You slowly looked around and saw the faint image of a young man next to your bed. A transparent man. “You’re awake!” he loudly exclaimed, shocking you off of the opposite side of the bed. “Sorry,” he immediately apologized before floating towards you. “Who-“ You started, “I’m Youngjae,” He smiled and held out his hand. You reached out to shake it and your hand went right through his. “Well…I was Youngjae when I was living. Now I’m just your other world boy next door.” You stared dumbfounded. “You’re one of the monsters?” You asked as you approached him, looking at all of his features as closely as you could. “Monster? Sure, I guess. I’m not from here if that’s what you mean…well…this world…now…I used to be from this world. This was actually my old house before I died.” “How did you…” You didn’t know how to politely ask the question. “Die?” he laughed at your concern for his feelings, “Jaebeom.” He shrugged like that was normal. “Did you meet him yet? He’s actually quite cool. We crossed the threshold to this realm together during the portal opening.” “He killed you and you’re friends with him?” You looked at him confused as you adjusted the sheets that were acting as your only cover from the attractive man in front of you. “I mean…killing me was an accident and sort of my fault…so yea!” “How is him killing you your fault?” You were so confused. “He turned me into a vampire, with my permission, but then I freaked out when I had to drink blood from a living person to make the whole eternal life thing stick. I felt too guilty hurting someone else. So I just didn’t do it…and I died…” He looked so nonchalant, like he was telling you what he had for dinner last night. “You asked for eternal life in the living realm and ended up cutting your life short in the process?” “Yup,” He smiled, “I still have eternal life, but I can’t touch anyone. It’s annoying.” He pouted. “I did it to myself though. I didn’t think the whole vampire thing through before telling Jaebeom I wanted it.” You were astounded at his childishness. “So you can’t even touch other ghosts?” You put your hand through his chest. “Nope, but I do have a fun trick that lets me touch people for a while.” Before you knew it, the whisp of a man flew towards you at alarming speed. The next thing you knew, you had a voice in your head and no control of your body. “Cool, right?” He asked as he held your hands up in front of you. “Possession is fun in the right person. You smell like lemons. Jinyoung smells like amber, Jaebeom smells like old spice.” You laughed at his comments, but this was freaky. You had zero control. “Very funny, now get out. We can hang, but I want control of my body back.” “Mmmmmm…not quite yet.” He said with a hint of mischief, “I can only do this once a year and I think some fun is in order.” He made you tap your lips while he thought. “Jinyoung got to have some special fun with you, and now I want to too.” Within seconds the sheets were on the floor and you were back in bed. Your actions were not your own, but you could still feel all the movements and sensations from what Youngjae was doing to you. Your heart was pounding, breath racing, legs quaking. You were tingling all over, and a pleasant shiver going down your spine as Youngjae roamed your hands across your body. You realized you feel something else too; a dampness between your legs that was not there before. “I’ve never possessed a woman before,” Youngjae notified you, “Apparently me getting a ghostly boner gives you the female equivalent. Your hands dip down to your core and rub your slick for a moment before Youngjae brings your fingers up to your mouth. “Let’s both have a taste.” He hummed in delight as he tasted you. “I wish I could be down there tasting this with my own tongue.” He breathlessly said as his hands began to roam your body again. You blushed deep and your face goes hot as the thought of Youngjae not only controlling you, but feeling, seeing, and tasting what you were crossed your mind. You were being pleasured by a ghost. It was the young brunette with the beauty mark by his eye, the one who seemed the most innocent of all the monsters thus far. Your arousal was stronger this time than it had been with the others and you cannot just simply ignore and will it away. After a moment of trying to find a way to get Youngjae out of you, you decided to just cave in and let him help you pleasure yourself. Your hands were gliding over your body, enjoying the pleasant tingle it provides. Youngjae brings your hands up to your breasts and plays with your nipples, which have become hard and raised with the arousal from the both of you. He rubs and pinches them, the sensations traveling straight to your core. You can hear Youngjae shudder with pleasure. He keeps one hand there as he brings the other one down between your legs. Youngjae rubs a finger up and down your seam, collecting moisture, before rubbing the small bud of flesh and sensitive nerves that has become slightly engorged with your arousal. Youngjae gasps at the feeling, as it has been quite some time since he pleasured himself or anyone else. He rubs slow and steady circles with your finger while your other hand still pinches and rubs your nipple, slowly building your collective pleasure. Youngjae releases your nipple and brings your hand down to join the other one, only with this hand, he presses one of your long and slender fingers inside. Youngjae bites your lips at the slightly foreign action. He gives you a moment to adjust, bending your finger and thrusting lightly before he slides another finger inside, rubbing you a bit faster. He scissors your fingers open for a few minutes then adds a third. Despite the events of this week, you are tight, clamping down on your own fingers instinctively, but continues to rub your sensitive spot more firmly. Youngjae was coaxing you to relax. Speaking sweet nothings in your mind and trying to get you to imagine that it’s two of his fingers inside of you. It doesn’t take long before your muscles relax and Youngjae begins thrusting your fingers in and out of you slowly, enjoying the slide and pleasant feeling it provides. He twists your fingers and feels a slightly rough and bumpy patch at the front of your walls. He massages there gently and moans at the wonderful pleasure it causes you both.

You and he realize that your hand outside has stopped and he resumes pleasuring you there while also doing so from within. It doesn’t take long before you feel your climax approaching. Youngjae lifts your hips up as your legs tense, your back arching and your breath hitching as your minds go completely blank, your climax crashing down as wave upon wave of pleasure washes over the both of you. Your body quakes as your muscles clench and pulse around your fingers, which are still buried deep inside. "Oh Youngjae!" You regain control for a split second to call out on pure instinct, riding out your orgasm until your muscles relax again and you collapse back onto the mattress. Youngjae slowly pulls his fingers from your core. You were a bit oversensitive and twitching after experiencing your own pleasure as both yours and his. You both lie there for a few moments until your breathing and heart rate return to a more normal pace. As you both regain your senses and normal thought processes, you realize what you just let Youngjae do and flush red and hot color running across your chest and face, up to the tips of your ears. When Youngjae feels your body is able to stand without your legs giving out from under the both of you, he gets you up and goes to the bathroom to rinse off your fingers and wipe you clean. He even started a bath for you and made sure you were safely in the water relaxing before he pulled himself out of you and hovered near the tub. You instinctively go to cover up, but realize he has done so much more than just seen you naked and you settling for crossing your arms and legs for a little protection. Youngjae’s hair was still perfect, clothes nicely unwrinkled, skin pale as ever, the only change was that you could see his chest heaving. “That was wonderful,” he said as he floated over and settled himself into the tub so you were both sitting facing each other. “Thank you.” He smiled as he looked deep into your eyes. “To repay you for this wonderful time, other than providing you with a full day with me, totally PG rated mind you…well…mostly…” he laughed, “I’m going to help you catch the other monsters.” “I appreciate it, but you can’t grab them and the possession could be dangerous and you can’t possess all of them at once. I just don’t see how you can help.” “Mark Tuan,” He said with a smile. “Who?” You asked, confused. “Mark Tuan,” He said like this man was the most famous human on earth. “There is always a price to pay for his help, but if you need to catch all of them by tomorrow night without any hiccups or brushes with death, you go to Mark.” “How do I find him?” You asked, eager to get this over with. “You find out after a day of Netflix and chill with me.” He smiled, “No exceptions.” You nod in agreement and sigh. If he didn’t only get one day a year to communicate with other people, you would have told him to fuck off. “Who is he?” You ask, curious about how Youngjae might know of someone in the land of the living. “The seventh monster…and your only hope.”

#got7 #got7 smut #choi youngjae #kpop #kpop smut #youngjae #youngjae smut #into the night #yugyummygot7reactions

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danadeservesadrink · 4 years ago

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Wine and Whiskey

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 1: Mulder’s POV

Scully arrives at his apartment with a bottle of wine on a Friday night and Mulder can't refuse. There's something so tempting about drinking wine from the bottle.

We’re just going to pretend that I didn’t wait almost a year to publish the second chapter for this fic. Reposting the first chapter here because I gave her a good fix-up. Tagging @today-in-fic

He had never been more mesmerized in his life than by Dana Scully drinking wine from the bottle.

She had shown up at his apartment holding it, bashfully admitting that she didn’t want to drink alone on a Friday night, practically entrapping him with a bat of her eyelashes. Of course he let her in.

It was rare that she let her guard down like this, but you wouldn’t catch him complaining. He ushered her in with a hand on her lower back and she made herself comfortable on his couch, flipping through the channels until she landed on a rerun of some history documentary. Her energy was palpable, nervous and confident and radiating. She gazed up at him with something just short of confidence and requested a corkscrew. Who was he to deny her.

Dana Scully sat on his couch in her maroon sweater and blue jeans on a Friday night at 9:06 pm and uncorked a bottle of white wine and he had never been more in love. Correction, he was more in love with her at 9:07 when she took a swig straight from the bottle. She drank and then let out a deep sigh, filled with all of the troubles of a not-so-9-to-5 FBI agent. He sat down opposite of her on the couch, matching her cross-legged position, and stared at her, mesmerized. She must have noticed, as she flushed and chuckled to herself, likely at the genuine absurdity of the situation.

“I’ve had a very long day,” she whispered defensively. He didn’t mind. She deserved to unwind. She passed him the bottle with a raised eyebrow and he almost denied.Thinking about how her lips and his would be touching the same lip of a bottle made him feel like a school boy analyzing the physics of cooties. He almost offered to go get them glasses, but she pushed the bottle towards him with an insistent smirk and he realized he was being ridiculous. He accepted, although still subtly trying to turn the bottle in a feeble attempt to avoid drinking from the same location she had, and he drank.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater. The wine was sweet, its flavor lingering on his lips.

“Bill’s an ass” She said, rolling her eyes. She reached out a hand for the bottle back, and he passed it over. She brought the bottle to her lips again with no rotations, clearly unconcerned with the dynamics of indirect kissing.

“Yea he is. What’d he do this time”. His previous attempt to forget how perfect she looked as she drank was a failure. Because Dana Scully was on his couch drinking wine from the bottle. He doesn't think any sane person could ever forget that.

“Called me up today to tell me how disappointed he was with me. How I’m a failure to our family and how I’m putting myself in danger for absolutely no reason” She laughed at this, and so did he, reveling in the ridiculousness of their day jobs. He shifted closer on the couch and she must have felt his concern because she clarified. “He heard about the case”.

Of course. Scully took down a murderer, a serial killer at that, with her own two hands, fighting through a warehouse of traps to get to him, to catch the bad guy. She shot him with his own gun but not before he sliced a nasty gash into her side with a pocket knife. All while he’d been knocked out on the cold cement in a pile of his own vomit. She followed his profile, found the warehouse, and took the bastard down and he was so god damn proud of her. Bill didn’t see it but he sure as hell could.

“Bill’s an idiot” He said so sincerely it made her look up from staring into the wine.

“Yea. Yea he is” She whispered. She took another drink, and he was moving closer to her on the already small couch, like a moth to the light.

She’s so pretty. The way the TV fluorescence bounced off of her cheek, the way her hair was tied up but the short pieces in the front whisped around her face in perfect little curls. It took all of his strength not to reach over and brush one away from her eye when she tilted her head back to take another drink from the bottle. Her neck was perfect porcelain, he dreamed of running his lips over the smooth skin she exposed. When she finishes, he forces himself to look at the TV screen instead of the little drop of white wine remaining on her lip.

She looks down at the bottle, then up at him through her lashes. She was coy, vulnerable, he knew this step, whatever it was, was big. Scully had shown up to his apartment before, but it was usually due to work. Showing up with wine and personal feeling was teetering on the edge of something more than partnership. His eyes flick down to the bottle and she offers it to him. Their fingertips brush and he shudders. He sees her watching him drink.

They are rudely interrupted by the shrill ringtone of her cell phone.

She pulls it out of her pocket with a sigh, and he smirks.

“Hi Mom.” He hears the muted voice of Maggie Scully on the other end of the phone. She’s probably calling to apologize for her son’s behavior, and he’s pissed that she’s forced into that position.

“Well he was acting like a bastard!” Scully exclaimed, frustrated, and Mulder couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Scully shot him a glare, and he quickly pressed his lips together in silent surrender. She seems to be listening intently, so he shakes the wine bottle in her direction, forcing her to wave him off with an eye roll. As she mumbles “mmhmm” and “uh huh” he becomes bolder, eventually leaning over and trying to press the wine bottle to her lips. She pushed him back with a smirk, but reached for the bottle and took a drink before her next answer. It was his turn to smirk.

“I’m over at Mulder’s place” He grinned at her and tried to scoot in closer to hear Maggie’s response. She pushed him back again, this time with a softer smile.

“Work stuff” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. The irony of her statement was not lost, and he tried to repress the laugh that bubbled up within him. He caught her blushing.

“I’ll let him know. Bye Mom” She quickly hung up the phone and proceeded to drink a good 6 swigs before handing the bottle back to him, shameless. He hadn’t realized it was almost empty.

The concept of Dana Scully, the Catholic raised and pant-suit wearing professional, drinking wine at a man’s apartment at night while on the phone with her equally proper mother made him chuckle. He wonders if this is the first time she’s done this.

“What did your mom want to tell me?” he asked with a grin. She blushed again. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or if the wine was getting to her. Maybe both.

“She just wanted to say hi” she glanced at the bottle in his hands, avoiding his eyes. He let the little white lie slip past them as a gift to a friend. “You gonna finish that?”

He shook his head. He was worried that any more and he would start acting in ways that would make Maggie Scully very disappointed.

Scully pouted at his response, but leaned even closer to him, grabbed the bottle, and downed the rest of it, tilting her head all the way back to allow the last drops to trickle from the bottom of the bottle into her throat. Something about her throat made him want to mark it with his teeth. Jesus, the effect she had on him was insane.

She finished, and returned to gazing in his eyes with an impish smirk. He must have still been staring because she burst into a fit of giggles. Despite all the Irish blood in her, Scully was still a small woman who had just drank nearly a full bottle of wine.

“Scully are you drunk?” He teased. She burst into another fit of giggles as she shook her head, still smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He loved the sound of her laugh. He never wanted it to stop. He would personally fight every demon in this world so that she never had to stop smiling at him like she was right now.

She felt loose, unrestrained, and so did he. They were so comfortable with each other in the strangest of ways, and this wine laden journey was just another layer. Intimacy for them often came in small touches and promises of protection, least of all through physical affection. But tonight, all bets were off, as Dana Scully, goddess in blue jeans, used his shoulder to push herself off his couch and waltzed into his kitchen, swaying her hips like the little vixen she was.

“Where you going?” He called after her, but the only reply was the sound of a cabinet being opened and the melodious giggle he had come to adore.

She was reaching for the top shelf when he walked in the kitchen behind her. Her prize was obvious. Striding up behind her he placed one hand on her hip and reached with the other for the half full bottle of whiskey her outstretched fingers were wiggling towards.

He almost dropped it when he felt her step back into him. He flexed the hand still fixed to her hip as he felt a shiver run through him. As quickly as she came, however, she was gone, instead turning around to grab at the bottle he was holding. He reacted quicker, sober reflexes triumphing over hers, pulling it back and raising an eyebrow in response to her pouty lips. Drunk Scully was a dangerous creature, a tempting siren who could bend any man to her will. All he wanted was to please her.

“And why should I give you some of my emergency whiskey?”, he teased.

“Because I’ve had a terrible day, and now I’m out of wine”. She had to know what she was doing to him. Looking him straight in the eye, pushing her lip out even further. He rolled his eyes, laughing again under his breath.

“What’s the magic word”

And oh Dana you know how to make a man give you anything. There is no magic word, only Scully tilting her head back, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth, tongue stuck out and waiting. The vision was enthralling.

She peeked an eye open when she heard him toss the cap on the counter, but closed it again with a giggle when she realized he had caught her. He shook his head, exhaling softly. With reverence, he gave her what she wished.

The whiskey hit her tongue with a burn of ice and fire, and he watched as it slid down into her mouth, filling her up until he stopped pouring, and she swallowed. He had never wished to be a liquid before. She coughed before smiling up at him, eyes sparkling even though the closest light was now the television.

“Your turn” She smirked and took the bottle from his hands.

“I don’t think you can reach” he countered, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled down.

He would never deny her.

He got down on his knees on his kitchen floor, and it was only right that Scully should be the altar he prayed to. Still smirking, he first closed his eyes as she had, then stuck out his tongue to await the drink of his goddess. She poured sloppily, the hand of a distracted woman, and he had to swallow before she was finished, causing her to spill some on his lips and chin.

He opened his eyes to see her giggle, mumble an apology, and lean over him. He barely registered what was happening before he felt her tongue, that perfect tongue, lap up a stray drop off of his cheek. He gasped, sharply. She pulled back, only a few inches, still leaning over him. He gazed up into her eyes and saw his arousal mirrored in them.

“It’s your emergency whiskey, I didn’t want to waste it.” She smirked her perfect lips as she whispered. Her breath smelled like sweet wine and sharp whiskey. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes as he felt her finger raise his chin to the heavens. She licked again, this one on his jawline, and he moaned. He felt her laughter in puffs of air on his cheek.

“Scully…” he whispers, a halfhearted attempt to salvage a professional partnership he knew had been tossed out of the window the second she walked in tonight.

She ran a finger over his lips to silence him and he thought he might black out.

All he wants is her. His body shakes with the thought.

She brings both hands to cup his cheeks, whiskey bottle long forgotten, and presses her lips to his.

The feeling is that of resurrection. It’s an electric shock coursing through his body, lighting every nerve he has on fire, his thoughts only attuned to her, her, her. He remembers he has hands, and uses them to pull her closer, cupping the back of her neck with ferocity. She opens her mouth and he tastes her tongue. The taste of salvation and moscato.

He breaks the kiss only to rise up to his full height before he descends upon her, grabbing her gently by the waist, still mindful of her injury, but equally desperate. She tangles a hand into his hair and pulls him into her. He could get lost in her mouth, following the flow of the whiskey before him, lips then tongue, fire and ice. She moaned into his mouth and he tightened his grip on her. His mouth traced the path his eyes had followed earlier. Off the curve of her lips, down to her jawline, where he licked and sucked and did everything in his power to remember the taste of her skin. She whimpered when he reached her pulse point, taking the fist in his hair and desperately pressing him against it. He nipped at her flesh, and then kissed it better.

“Fuck” she drew out, shaking, and it made him wild. He sucked harder, knowing full well the dark purple bruise it was going to leave. Both of them couldn’t give a shit. When he finished, he kissed his way up to her ear.

“Mine” he growled, and she shuddered in his arms. He carefully tugged on her earlobe with his teeth as he felt her nod against him.

“Yours” she whispered back. It was all the permission he needed.

He carefully traced his fingers up her sides, dragging the fabric of her top along with it. Her chest was heaving, their breaths mixing together in a cocktail of arousal and alcohol. He felt the bandage covering the wound from the warehouse and a pang of guilt passed over him. She sees it in his eyes and uses her own hands to push his higher, past the evidence of their last foul memory. He reached up to the bottom of her breasts and with a shock realized that her sweater had been hiding a secret.

“Were you planning…” he dotted her collarbone with marks from his lips, sucking softly along each delicate curve “... on telling me…” another kiss “...that you weren't wearing a bra?” kiss , kiss , kiss .

“I was more hoping that … ah shit...you would find out for yourself”

He had to be dreaming. Any minute he would wake up in his bed horny and alone like every Saturday. But then she kissed him again and he figured that if this was a dream he hoped he was fucking comatose because he never wanted to wake up. He traced his hands over the underside of her breasts again and felt her body shake at his caress. Quickly he pushed the sweater up and over her head, careful to not disturb her bandage, her arms raising to help. And then she was topless in his kitchen on a Friday night and he was going to study her like she was a sculptor and she was his Venus. He would memorize every curve of her perfect body with his hands over and over and over.

“Well?”

He had been staring. How could you not when Dana fucking Scully was blushing and breathless in your arms. But there would be time for starting later. He turned his mind to devouring her.

He palmed her breast and kneaded, watching in awe as her head fell backward and a sigh escaped her lips. He asked for permission through a silent question tossed up at her and she nodded a desperate nod. His lips continued their trail downward, licking and sucking on the hills and valleys of her chest until he came to her nipple, where he paused to circle it with his tongue. At the same time he flicked her right nipple he took the left one into her mouth. Her head shot forward, the hand in his hair pulled him forward into her, and she let out the most guttural moan of “ Mulder ”. His name had never sounded more perfect than when it came out of her mouth. He spent some time there, licking and sucking, pulling with his teeth then soothing with his tongue, just trying to get her to make different sounds. Curses flew from her mouth with ease and he was reminded of the rebellious streak in her. The deviant Dana Scully that cursed and drank and fucked. He loved this side of her. He’s drunk off of her and whiskey and wine and he can only think that he needed more. His brain is buzzing and he’s sure he didn’t have that much wine but maybe it's just the smell of her skin that's so intoxicating.

“Mulder I need you”

He looked up to meet her eyes and saw her staring back at him, breathless and hungry.

“Now.”

#thanks for dealing with my writers block on this one #also I can't write smut so I just don't #msr #msr fanfiction #txf fanfic #the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #sam writes

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