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writersdrug · 5 months ago

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Mourning Dove

König x Reader

Chapter 1. A New Path

Masterlist

Summary: It's been nearly two months since you and Drew had fled the city for the thick, endless forest. You had escaped the infected, only to get stuck with a monster of a different kind - a selfish, abusive asshole named Drew. But you'd had enough - it was time for your plan.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, cursing, abusive behavior and speech, mentions of domestic violence, reader uses sex to her advantage but it's unwanted, so rape

“There’s a city on the other side of the mountain.”

Silence. Nothing returned your statement other than the crunch of leaves and stones under your feet.

“Is this big enough to be a mountain? Feels too small for a hill.”

An irritated sigh.

“Unless it’s smaller than I think…”

Nothing this time. He needs one more push.

“If we go and check it out, there might be some suppli-“

“For fuck’s sake!” Drew finally shouted, turning quickly on his heel and looming over you. You gripped the edges of the map you held, nearly tearing a hole through the thick paper.

“We are not going down there! How many times do I need to beat that into your head?!”

Your eye twitched at the reminder, your body immediately tensing in preparation. Your jaw was still sore from the last time you’d unintentionally worn his patience thin. This time, however, you wanted to poke the bear. You needed him riled up and irritated, particularly at you, for your plan to work.

Play dumb. “I- I just thought- you said we were almost out of water, and I-“

“That’s why I have the fucking water pills.” He snapped. His pupils were nearly drowned in the amber of his eyes with the weight of his anger. “And I showed you how to use the Lifestraw three fucking days ago. Didn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you- you did, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t sure if-“

“If we’d need clean water? When we’ve been following a stream for ages? And when have two fucking ways to purify the water? Hmm?!”

That was good enough. Not to mention, he seemed like he’d have no hesitation in taking a fist to your eye if you continued to babble on nonsense. You looked at the ground and mumbled an apology.

He sighed. “Don’t open your mouth unless it’s something important, got it?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck did I just say?”

You nearly apologized again, but you stopped yourself. Unsure if he wanted a response at all, so you just stared at the rocky ground beneath your worn shoes. Tears burned on your waterline – that was unintentional, just a reflex after weeks of consequence brought by his ire.

“Good.” He growled. He turned back away from you with an annoyed sigh. “Just- keep up. It’s not even noon.”

You looked up at the yellowed haze of cloud that completely blocked out the sun. It was a miracle he could tell what time it was; you thought he’d lost the ability when his watch had died, permanently stuck on three-o-six. Still, somehow, he was able to keep track of the hours, even though the sun hadn’t shown its face since the fog came around. That was weeks ago, unfortunately. But who was to say he wasn’t lying to you? You weren’t savvy enough to his liking, and he certainly hadn’t kept his distaste for your inexperience a secret. Either he was telling the truth, and it would be another long, agonizing day of journeying – or it was afternoon, and he was just trying to get under your skin.

Walking. That’s all the both of you had done since the first day, the day the virus had shown itself in the country. Drew took you deep into the woods, abandoning the car somewhere in the thicket of trees, once it had run out of gas; burying it under broken branches and smashing the windows with rocks. It could have been some kind of security measure, to make sure the car would be unusable should someone else stumble upon it, or it might have been him taking his anger out on the vehicle. But speculation was satisfying enough for you; better than getting a palm to your cheek for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time.

Then, he began walking, and you followed. A few days turned into a week, which then turned into several weeks. He never had a destination in mind, so it seemed. When you asked what the plan was, he’d answer with a simple “stay alive”. Something about staying on the move, and hopefully, you’d get lucky and stumble upon an abandoned shelter, with sustainable tools and foodstuffs. You’d held onto the ridiculous pipedream for a while, before the hunger became the new normal, and the idea of bathing became a luxury – a joke. You didn’t hope for anything nowadays, besides the wish that Drew would finally cut ties with you and go his separate ways.

Maybe he was right, that you couldn’t survive without him. You’d been the one holding the map since the get-go, yet you hadn’t paid much attention to it. The rivers and valleys and roads had all been branded into the backs of your eyelids, but it meant nothing to you in relation to where you were now. Drew had never asked you for directions; he had his compass and a small, folded map of what you could only assume to be the earth you treaded now. He certainly didn’t need you for help.

You imagined he made a split decision that day, deciding you would be worth the company, if not anything else. But as each day had passed, you felt nothing short of a leech on his back, and he never hesitated to make that known, either. You wondered what else he’d be doing, since half of his time was spent yelling at you or dragging you underneath him. Was the satisfaction of how much you let him push you around enough to drown out the annoyance of your presence? Did fucking you every night help him overlook his abhorrence to you? Or would it have been just a bit too cruel to let you end up like the others? He probably didn’t care about the latter. Besides, you were sure that whatever woodland creatures remained wouldn’t care if he cranked his frustrations out here and there.

“Hey.” Drew called over his shoulder, noticing your furrowed brow. He never liked it when you were thinking – at least, more than any normal, stupid girl should be. “Stop doing that.”

You glanced up at his back, then down at the forest floor. Your feet were sore and blistered, and you had to tread carefully, considering this was certainly your last pair of shoes. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know what I mean.” He snapped. His eyes darted between his map and his compass, seemingly paying you no mind. But he was always aware of what you were doing; he’d spent a little over a month alone with you in the woods. He knew the difference between your mindless dissociation and your contemplative thinking. It irked you to no end. Your thoughts should be yours, and yours alone. You didn’t like being easy to read, let alone by him.

Which is why you had to be careful. You wanted to bite back, tell him to leave you alone, get lost… hell, you’d been holding back the desire to sink your teeth into his flesh and rip. But then you’d be just like one of those things out there, and you needed everything you could gather to remind yourself that you are, in fact, still human and sane (for the most part). Plus, you needed the plan to work. Drew was quick to anger, a fuse with a minacious, short wick. Despite that this had given you the upper hand, he wasn’t stupid – he’d know if you were purposefully taking it too far. Turning the heat up underneath him too quickly could throw this entire scheme out the window. And you needed this to be perfect. It was your only chance.

So you bit your tongue, dipped your head, and followed after him. Not too closely, at least. You stayed out of reach of his fists should he decide to take his frustrations out on you.

When the sun was gracing the edge of the horizon, and the mountain was descending into a thick shadow, Drew had found a spot he deemed good enough to rest at. The turf was dry, void of any wet leaves or sludge, but it was still cold. The chill of the dirt soaked through your shoes, which were barely holding together – shame on you for deciding to wear flats on your date over a month ago, when the world had started to end – and straight into your feet. You didn’t want to sit down, instead opting to shift from one foot to the other to keep your blood flowing and your legs as warm as they could be.

The space he’d chosen was better than last night’s. A towering wall of rock stood tall, part of the mountain that was far too steep to climb. The ground was decently flat and clear; Drew mumbled that there’d be no fire tonight, since you had mentioned that there was a city nearby, and possibly some of the infected (distance never seemed to be an issue for their senses). He dragged both of your bags under a sturdy fir that guarded the edge of the rock wall, grabbing the tarp, rope, and his knife from his pack. The temporary home would keep your backs protected, facing the drop of the mountain, so you’d only have your fronts to worry about, if anything even dared to trek up the steep incline.

He never let you help him set up camp (if you could even call it that). He had never even let you try. He wanted you to sit there and busy yourself with whatever would keep you occupied, and would help you leave him alone. He didn’t like it when you stood and watched him, but you responded to his bitching by saying the ground was too cold to sit, and there was nothing for you to do. So you followed his next suggestion (more of a demand, but you liked to see the more positive aspect in things – it’s what kept you going through all of this), and went for a walk while he set up the thermal tarp for a basic shelter.

“Don’t leave my line of sight.” He called out. You said you wouldn’t.

Every evening, the constant fog that plagued the daytime would roll down the mountain and disappear for the night. The moon was still no clearer; the thick fir trees blocked any direct light from casting beams with their dense, unforgiving shade. Like a dream, a nightmare that you were never allowed to wake up from. A present state that you were never permitted to know the outcome of, whether you would survive all of this – or even, how long it would be before the virus took you too. In the daytime, when you should be able to see over the trees that descended down the hill, you were met with the smoggy, amber cloud of dew. At nighttime, what little sky that managed to poke through the blanket of pine needles would blend into the darkness of the forest.

The world was a snow globe, shaken up by the creator to make things interesting, and you were still waiting for the clouds of dust to settle before you could make sense of everything. This life must have been too boring for its audience, you supposed, and that’s why you were here.

There was still no explanation for what had happened – at least, not that either of you had heard. But it’s possible that no one knew. It’s more likely that the broadcasters had been infected at their desks before they could spread the information. There was no theory, no hypothesis. None worth wasting energy to relieve the itch in everyone’s brains. There was only the evidence: the wailing, screaming, and shrieking, coming from the west side. The panic that held you down like an anchor when you and everyone on that street had witnessed the bite; the creature’s teeth sinking into another’s throat with no sympathetic yield, the way you realized how stringy flesh really is when it’s being ripped apart.

They looked mostly human, but only in shape. Their flesh was dull, and their veins were a blackened crimson, running like poisoned roots under their skin. Broken bones nor open wounds could stop the gnashing of their teeth. The eyes were clouded with deep red, and the outlines of the iris were barely visible beneath it. It was a sharp reminder that they were people before they were infected with the virus, and an even more painful question: were they still there? Were they dead, or were they living hosts?

Eventually, Drew called you back to the camp, and you hastily returned before his anger could beat you there. You gave in and sat on the cold earth, using your knit cardigan as a buffer from the chill, while he sat under the tarp shelter.

Dinner was a protein bar split between the two of you, and it was eaten in silence. The chewy, peanut-butter-flavored granola did little to satisfy you, but it rounded the rough edge of hunger that had been pinching your stomach. The MRE’s were saved for days when more energy was exerted. You only had so many of those left, and it was unlikely that there would be any more lingering in an abandoned store, if Drew ever did choose to look for more supplies.

It was an unsettling thought: one day, he’d run out of food and ways to purify the river water. His tools would break, batteries would die, clothes would wear down… and the both of you might not be so lucky to happen upon an untouched store. You had just been lucky that Drew carries his rucksack in the back of his car – the fact that he had the car for as long as he did was a miracle. It managed to drag you across thousands of miles of Europe, before the fuel stations had run dry. All in all, he seemed very prepared for an insane situation such as a viral apocalypse, which should have been a red flag. But considering your current position, and how you could have ended up… infected, you weren’t opening that can of worms.

Still, it did beg the question, you thought as you chewed on the never-ending granola. Why did he bring you along?

Up until the day the world collapsed, he’d been nothing but caring and sweet. A little too eager to have you exclusively, you had thought, but who are you to underappreciate affection, wherever you can get it? A gentleman was hard to come by these days – even if Drew barely fit that mold. He was nice enough, paid for dinner the first date, took you to a movie for the second, and fucked you nice on the third. How could you complain about the minor things, when he was a good boyfriend in other aspects?

Things changed drastically when the virus had begun to spread. After witnessing a walking cadaver bite the jugular out of an innocent bystander, he had dragged you out of your shock-induced stupor and into the passenger seat of his car. He had barked orders at you, but you were too busy processing the blood and the half-dead, still-chewing corpses on the streets as you passed them. His words landed on deaf ears, so he smacked you, which then gave him your full attention. So much had happened that one day that you had brushed it off as a necessary action. He couldn’t take care of two people when one of them was in shock, you reasoned. Besides that, you eventually realized how fortunate you were to have escaped in one piece with him. For all you knew, the two of you were the only ones to make it out alive – or, rather, uninfected.

But the change in his behaviour was a permanent one, you soon found out. Every day, you were reminded how much of a burden you were, how he saved your life, how grateful you should be (because apparently asking what the plan was more than once when you didn’t receive an answer was very ungrateful of you), and what you would be if he hadn’t brought you with him: dead. Nearly everything you said to him earned you with spit in your face and a welt somewhere on your body. If you asked him a question, his reply always came to you in a raised voice. You figured that the loss of balance and routine in his own life had driven him to this – he needed something under his control, and unfortunately, you were the only living thing within a twenty-mile radius of him. You became that something. The bird in the cage.

“Y’know I never wanted this.”

You looked at him as you chewed the last bite of the protein bar. It wasn’t a new conversation, though it wouldn’t have surprised you if it was. His actions had been nothing short of hateful.

“I wouldn’t have brought you with me if I could help it.”

You could have. You wanted to say. You could have left me standing in the square. I would have died there and would never be your problem. But you have said this before, and all it did was land you with a bruise somewhere on the back of your head.

You didn’t know if he wanted a response, but on the chance that you could make him angry, you gave one. You needed to. You needed him to be angry.

“I don’t… I didn’t exactly plan this.”

He laughed with disappointment. Apparently, you’d said the wrong thing.

You continued: “But thank you.” Thank you for dragging me into nowhere, for bringing me along with you just to call me useless.

“At least you know what charity is when you see it…” he mumbled, chewing on the last bite of his protein bar. “You know how far you’d’ve gotten on your own?”

You kept your venom tucked away into the corners of your mind. For the plan. “I think- I would have been alright, maybe…”

“You’d be one of them.” He spat, staring into your eyes with malice. He wanted to hurt you, to keep you scruffed with your nose rubbed into the dirt. “You can’t do shit for yourself out here, even when the world’s not on fire. You’re pathetic, y’know that?”

You waited to see if he’d let you off the hook, but he continued to glare at you. Slowly, you nodded your head.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“… I’m pathetic.” You said quietly. You might have been biting the bullet just to enact your plan, but the words dragged daggers on the inside of your cheeks as you spoke them.

He stared at you a few moments more. You wondered if he was satisfied with your admission, or if he could stand a bit more self-degrading statements from you. The hair on the back of your neck bristled under the intensity of his gaze, so you looked at the ground. A sign of submission, but hopefully one of the last ones you’d allow him.

He stood slowly, shucking his jacket off and dropping it behind him. Your gut grew uneasy as he stalked over to you; your eyes darted between his face, his expression somewhere between irate and smug, and back to the darkening woods behind him. The sun had fully descended behind the mountain now, and you were once again surrounded by the blanket of shadow. You felt a tremor building in the base of your spine as you could only assume what would happen next.

He reached his hand out and held your chin, surprisingly gently – though you still flinched. He dragged your head upwards until your eyes landed on his face. There was cruelty laced into his brown eyes, and his unkempt hair only added to the feral look about him. You knew that the lust was one of the reasons he had kept you all this time – why he brought you around in the first place, you couldn’t say. But, unfortunately for you, there hadn’t been much you could do to keep him at bay. It was better for you if you worked with him instead of against him; at least, that’s what he’d told you every single time, but you had come to believe it. Still, this would be the last time you’d have to endure it.

“Stupid girl…” he muttered, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “You don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”

Saying no would be too obvious – he’d know you were trying to win his approval for a reason, and you couldn’t risk anything tonight. So, you continued to look up at him, letting the tears weave into your lash line.

“Aren’t you lucky to have someone like me?” He continued, cupping his hand over the crown of your head.

You nodded as a single tear spilled down your cheek.

“I don’t like getting mad at you, I swear…” no matter the meaning of his words, they continued to drip from his tongue like slime. You wanted to choke just from the sound of them. “It just seems like you don’t trust me, after all this time…” he smeared the tear against your skin until the water chilled, making you shiver. “… after all I’ve done for you. You don’t think I know what I’m doin’?”

You could feel his fingers working themselves into your hair, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m sorry…” you said for the umpteenth time that day. “I just get worried, and- I know you tell me not to, but I can’t help it.”

“I know, I know…” he murmured, his fingers clenching into the roots of your hair, making you wince and grip his calf, a silent yet timid plea for him to be gentle. “You’re not used to this, I get that. But you gotta leave it in my hands, sweetheart.” He pulled your head back until you were looking up at the sky, making you groan painfully. “You promise me that? You promise you’re gonna let me do what I need to do?”

“M-mhmm-“

“Use your words.”

“I promise-“ you sputtered out.

“Good, good…” he said, releasing your hair. Your head dropped down and rested against his thigh. The plan. Remember the plan. You can use this.

“You don’t need to worry about what I’m doin’. Just tell me what you need and I’ll decide what to do, alright?” He said lowly.

“I- I want it…”

“What do you want?”

You gritted your teeth, then forced yourself to look up at him. “I want it… rough, tonight.”

You heard the growl rumble through his chest, and noticed the subsequent tightening of his pants right in front of your face. It filled you with a nauseating dread, but it would only be one more night, just one more, one more time, and then it’s over-

“All that gotcha worked up, didn’t it?” he chided, folding his arms over his chest as he smirked down at you. As if this wasn’t where he expected the night to go. “All that yelling and orderin’ you around gotcha riled up, darlin'? Looks like you’re starting to know what you’re good for. How you can help, since you’re always asking.”

You didn’t look up at him. It was bad enough trying to stomach yet another night of what you were trying so hard to escape. Now, for him to think that you were starting to crave it; you wanted to grab the nearest rock and bash him in the head with it. Or grab his legs and throw the both of you down the mountainside, to be done with it, once and for all. But, as easy and refreshing as that sounded, you needed this. You needed your freedom. Sacrifices had to be made to have such a thing, especially in this day and age.

You closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to his groin, feeling it stiffen and twitch from behind his pants. You tilted your head back to look up at him, wide-eyed and giving the neediest look you could. He had never been more unattractive to you than now, but the chance to escape had never been more desirable.

“Please…” you said, reaching your other hand up to palm at his abdomen. “I can be good, I can… I can make up for today. I promise.”

He sighed, as though he was surrendering some part of his responsibility and morals. You knew it was a front – the only reason he wasn’t forcing your face into the earth was because you weren’t fighting back this time. He reached a hand down and roughly tapped your cheek a few times. You winced, but held back the urge to jerk away from him. He then rubbed the reddening spot on your cheek.

“Alright then. Show me.”

Just one more time.

Next ->

Taglist: @nic-stars @teenagellamaangel @zhuyingsworld @crypticme @konigswifeyforlifey @zlunia @gremlinmodetweeker

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig #konig cod #konig fanfiction #konig call of duty #cod konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #konig mw2

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fanworks-library · 4 months ago

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eremetic

(takes place after the events of chapter 14 in The Therapist)

Hours later in the privacy of his cell, Bill Cipher was thinking.

When was the last time anyone had touched him deliberately? Even the sanctioned violence of the guards didn't affect that statistic; since he had woken up here... afterwards he had been mostly relegated to being prodded from a distance, corralled like a stray dog at the pound.

But you.

You

You had touched him, let him touch you; just the innocent contact of clothed skin had been a mercy he had given up on ever experiencing again, a balm like a glass of water in the desert. Even hours later the method you had utilized stuck with him, phantom sensations from half a day ago shivering down his arms.

Trust me, you told him, like you hadn't already pried open his waking mind and slithered in to make yourself at home. Just trust me. To him the moment had become encased in amber, frozen in time— your fingers lacing with his, pulling him along until he was within reach, before carefully (delicately, affectionately) put his hand on your chest, right above the sternum. The first thing he perceived was the heat (98.9°F, exactly) of your flesh, a soothing source of warmth that sent a flush through his extremities. Just feel there. You feel it? It wasn't until you said it that he became aware of the pulse, almost an afterthought. As you sat still watching him watch you, your life-force fluttered under his fingers. Each beat felt like it was a gift, a fond song of hello hello hello sang just for his benefit. The gesture left him transfixed, anchoring his grip for a better hold. It wasn't until you peered down at your chest in curiosity, the rush of your pulse still kissing his fingertips that he noticed the claws snagging you, keeping you in place.

Something akin to embarrassment flared up at that, at the blatant loss of control and he yanked his hand back.

“Claws but no heart,” you mused, blessedly letting the moment pass.

Even with your easy dismissal of the events Bill couldn't stop thinking about it, turning the implications over in his mind until they were as worn as river stones.

You'd offered him your heart.

Bold as anything you'd put his hand, drenched in blood as it was, over the very core of your being—wrapped in blood and darkness and trust— and let him decide if he wanted to tear it out or not, unflinching.

Hearts were a particular favorite for offerings among his followers; his previous favorites heart-rippers had been the Toltecs, legions of priests carving open chests on edifices made in his likeness.

...But that was before and this was now; his current favorite heart was ensconced in the chest of a goody two-shoes, but pledged to him nonetheless. He didn't even mind it was still beating!

If he was honest, he preferred it that way— the best gifts, in his opinion, were wrapped.

#the theraprist #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #guys help I'm stuck thinking about this angular idiot

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squiddy-god · 6 months ago

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"Antique hearts"

Zhongli x reader

Sweet, cute, and domestic fluff with the former geo archon turned charming man. More re-uploads. As usual no beta no prof

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

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Hesitance was etched along his defined features when you suggested a trip to mondstat, nothing too long, simply a day away from the familiar mountains of liyue. "Are you sure my dear? " He inquired, you nodded smile painted on your face, "it'll just be for a day I promise, there's a place I'd love to take you"

How could he say no when you gave him such a hopeful expression. He let out a deep sigh, amber eyes closing gently. It was no secret that zhongli was not a fan of mondstat taverns, the oddities that they often served- it simply wasn't his cup of tea. Thankfully you had no intention of taking him somewhere like the cat tail or angel's share, no no, you were planning to take him somewhere you were certain he'd love. "Alright, I suppose a day's visit to the city of wind wouldn't hurt" He agreed, still slightly sceptical.

Holding his gloved hand in yours you lead the tall man through the stone streets of mondstat. Although the geo Lord stuck out quite a bit in his liyue attire, people still smiled nonetheless. "Dear, where exactly are you taking me? " His inquisitive gaze was locked upon you, the rich hues of his eyes holding a silent plea that it wasn't a tavern. "Well we're almost there! You'll see soon"

You were indeed right, you soon came to a quaint cafe, a hole in the wall that was almost never packed.

He took in the sight, a charming sign hung up above and the small chalkboard with a drawn cake and teacup, it gave a calm atmosphere he rather appreciated in a city such as the bustling mondstat. "Wait until you see the inside" You chirped, interlocking your fingers and leading the way.

The interior was plastered with a warm yellow wallpaper, murals of cities and gardens painted on the walls. It was as if each wall was a new place, straight from a story book's pages. But truly what caught. His eyes were the antiques. The front room was adorned in cute white shelves stacked with anything from porcelain birds to beautiful oak jewelry boxes. Elegant carvings in the dark wood drew his eyes to inspect them, a shimmer of curiosity lighting his dazzling face.

You smiled seeing him so happy, the gentle smile he now dawned warmed your heart and you chuckled. The lady at the front desk created you with a warm smile before leading you to a table in the further back of the cafey. Zhongli admired the walls, beautiful flower bushes and charming window shutters tying together in a landscape unfamiliar yet beautiful.

"This place is quite charming, hmm, even the cloth on the table holds much character, perhaps this place holds interesting stories" He mused holding his chin. He was delighted to learn they had a vast selection of tea, some blends even from liyue harbor, how curious that such a small cafe had such selection.

His gloved thumb traced the smooth porcelain cup, swirls of gold lining the rim with pale yellow flowers painted on the smooth surface.

"This is a common shape for tea cups, the design is wider and lends itself to the maximization of surface area" He began, eyes shifting subtlety from the hot liquid to your eyes. You happily listened as he went on, gently placing the cup down on the matching saucer as you intertwined your fingers atop the table. His voice was soothing and calm, the slight rasp lending itself well to his deep vocals. "The reason for this is to focus on the texture and feel of the tea, specifically teas with rich and velvet textures. Hence it is often used to serve black teas such as Sichuan Imperial Gongfu" He finished, a warm smile on his face as he sipped his tea.

He always loved when you listened to him, he adored how appreciated you made him feel. That twinkle of attentiveness in your eyes as he spoke, yes, he'd make sure to return that love ten fold.

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#genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli genshin #genshin impact zhongli #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #zhongli

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pilot-boi · 1 year ago

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god now i’m just imagining Blake suddenly realizing and saying “you knew you had to drink the poison”

And Jaune just isn’t able to meet anyone’s eyes

The five sit around a campfire scrounged together from dead brush in an alcove protected from the desert wind. Their conversation is slow, comforting, filled with hushed reassurances and rueful laughter.

With the benefit of distance, of being free, talk eventually turns to Jaune’s missing years. Simple curiousity, simple questions.

He doesn’t answer everything, but every word he says seems to draw some invisible hurt from a wound left festering for too long.

It’s Blake that brings it up.

Of course she is. She was the one to realize they were in a fairytale, the one who reminded them all how to play along with the fantasy while keeping their sanity. Their resident bookworm.

Of course she’s the one who realizes that their friend knew going in that he was probably going to die before the end of “the story.”

“Jaune?” Blake’s voice is quiet, but calm as a pool of water. “You knew, didn’t you?” Weiss can see how her amber eyes narrow, the agitated flick of her ears, but none of her distress is betrayed in her voice.

Which is just as well, because Jaune doesn’t meet any of their eyes, he just watches the fire. The white locks in his hair are stark against the rest, and not for the first time Weiss wonders if they’re a result of age or stress or something worse.

“Not right away,” he replies. And is that better or worse? That it took a little while for him to realize that he’d die before the story’s end, and he still kept to the script? “Before we reached the Red King.”

“Were you… Did you…” Weiss isn’t sure what she wants to ask, or if she even wants an answer. Were you scared? Did you know when it would happen? Were you ready? Did you want it to happen?

“I had to follow the story,” he says eventually, his voice breaking with emotion. Aged beyond his years, and yet still as young as any of them. “I had… It was my role. I couldn’t- I had to-”

“The Rusted Knight drank the poison in her stead,” Ruby says hollowly. “Would you have done it for me?” Jaune’s head shoots up, fast as a bullet, his face a mask as hard as the metal of his helmet.

Blue eyes aged beyond the years of the face they rest in meet silver eyes haunted by death and rebirth. The tension in the air is taut as a bow string, as the two leaders seem to communicate something only they understand.

A chunk of ice the size of her fallen home drops into Weiss’s stomach. The poison. The tea.

If Jaune had been there in time, would he have even hesitated to drink the tea for Ruby? Finally fulfilling his fairytale role? Finally doing something “right?”

Weiss is quite sure that would’ve only ended with BOTH leaders on the verge of ascension, instead of one. Because if Ruby had lost another friend, Weiss is certain that it would’ve pushed her over an edge she would never have returned from.

The desert wind fills the silence.

Jaune’s gaze falls back to the fire. ��After the Herbalist, I was desperate to get the story back on track. I would’ve done anything to fix what I broke.”

“Even die?” Yang’s voice is steady as stone, but her hand is shaking in Blake’s grasp.

There are tears dripping down his face. He never processed this, Weiss realizes. He never processed anything, stuck as he was as the only thing changing in a world where everything stayed the same.

“I just wanted to do something right.” His voice sounds like he dropped it on the floor, it shattered, and he kept using it anyway. Cracky in that way it used to in Beacon. Too old and too young.

“I was the Rusted Knight, a paragon of virtue and glory, but I was messing it all up.” As he speaks, his voice gets more frantic, more hitched with tears. “We were at the end, there was no more story left. There was only one thing I could do to make sure they got their happy ending. And- And I-”

“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” Ruby interrupts, her voice choking with tears. I hate that it happened, that she poisoned you, but I’m glad you didn’t have to.” And again, it’s his fellow leader’s voice that draws Jaune out of himself.

But this time he looks like Jaune, all wide eyes and soft edges, not the metal of the Rusted Knight he was protecting himself with before. And Ruby looks like Ruby, older and wiser but with a spark of hope in her teary eyes that Weiss didn’t realize has been missing until they all almost lost it forever.

Ruby stands and walks around the fire, her boots making furrows in the sand, and pulls him into a hug. Jaune blinks, half afraid, half confused.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Weiss barely hears Ruby murmur this over the crackle of the flames, and whether she’s talking about Penny or Alyx or Pyrrha or Atlas or any number of things that both leaders have blamed themselves for over the years, Weiss doesn’t know.

But what she does know is that when Jaune chokes out a sob and buries his face in Ruby’s hair, and Ruby drops to her knees clings to her best friend like he’s the only thing anchoring her to Remnant, something slots back into place in the universe. Something that fractured almost beyond repair on the shore of a razed village of paper stars.

Jaune’s hair is streaked with white, Ruby’s whole body is shaking with sobs, and Jaune is whispering apologies that Ruby is meeting with her own. But they’re both still here. It feels like healing, or the very start of it.

And maybe Jaune would have drunk the poison for Alyx, but he didn’t get to. And maybe Jaune would have drink the tea for Ruby, but he didn’t get to. The world was full of what-ifs, gods the Ever After probably used as them as damn building blocks.

But what matters is that he didn’t, and that he would never have to.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #mine #asks #my writing #ethans express #healing rust au

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months ago

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Until I see you again

Eris x mermaid OC

Based on this prompt by @ghostedgrim

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: swear words; imagining beheading; blood and bruises

For the Day 1: bonds/bargains of @erisweekofficial

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Eris was exhausted. He had enough of this place, he had enough of his fucking father and his stupid decisions that led to nothing good. Oh, how desperately he waited for the day he could get rid of that old asshole and take over this court. He already had a whole badass list of things he would do.

His eyes roamed over the room and all the faces gathered here. Dead. All of this lordlings who were trying to shove their heads up Beron's ass, would be dead. That was the very first task on his list. Imagining their heads rolling down on the floor, was the only thing that was helping him survive today's counsel.

He had to play his part flawlessly and wait patiently for the right moment to make his dreams come true, but right now, he wasn't able to take it anymore. When the meeting with lords and his father that caused the blood boiled in his veins, was finally over, he stood up and with long strides marched out from the room before someone could stop him. He wasn't able to keep his bored, ruthless mask, it was slowly slipping from his grip. The fire hummed in his veins, asking for permission to burn, to kill, to destroy. He desperately needed time to cool down, to clear his mind before he would do something stupid and expose himself.

Without giving it much thoughts, he headed for the gardens. Maybe the fresh air would do him good. The Mother granted him his wish and he didn't meet a single soul on his way through hallways, nor when he finally got out of that rotten place. Brisk air filled his lungs and part of his burden instantly disappeared. Feeling a bit lighter and completely lost in thoughts, his legs carried him to unmaintained part of the garden and up the hidden path to the forest on the hill behind the Forest House.

It was beautiful sunny day and birds merrily chirped in the crowns of trees. The forest shone with the bright colours of autumn, gentle breeze played with the remaining smell of storm from the other day. Eris took a deep breath and closed his amber eyes. He didn't need sight, he knew this place so well as the back of his hand. His legs sped up until he was running, pushing through the low bushes. He slowed down only when the ruins of the ancient sanctuary dedicated to one of the forgotten gods came into view.

Half immersed in the undergrowth lay the remains of massive pillars and walls, the grey limbs of broken marble statues that used to be white, stuck out among the ivy leaves like canines of gigantic monster. The nature was slowly swallowing what didn't belong there.

Eris always had a very strange feeling in this place bordering on fear. He felt here history that breathed as if it was a living thing, and magic older than his kind soaked in these stones, buzzing under his feet. It was dangerous and repulsing, yet pulling him closer, inviting him to stay. Only here he could be himself and didn't need to hide anything. As a little boy he used to come up here to cry after beating. This was his kingdom, his safe place.

Before he could give in to the lure, the sounds of happy barking reached him, pulling him out of the trance. It took only a single heartbeat and he was surrounded by his smokehounds. The beasts were excitedly jumping around him, trying to lick his face.

"Good boys," Eris relaxed and finally smiled, petting as many heads as he could. From the inner pocket of his jacket he took out the dog crackers that he carried around just in case. These furry beasts always scared his dark thoughts away and cheered him up. With them, it was as if all the worries suddenly disappeared in a puff of steam.

He took out a bow and quiver with arrows from the one of remaining alcoves in the wall. From the moment their master touched those things, the hounds didn't need any command, they instantly knew. Wagging their tails, they fell silent and sniffed in the air. As one they rushed deeper into the forest, closely followed by Eris. His amber eyes turned into two hot coals with excitement from the hunt, playful smirk twisted corners of his mouth.

This was what he needed the most now. The feeling of freedom, the wind playing with strands of his long red hair and a prey to shoot down and later bake on dancing flames. He rushed through the forest, zigzagging between the trees, following his hounds. Their brilliant noses never failed them. Even now they certainly found him some interesting prey. They knew his preferences and loved the challenge as much as he did.

They ran maybe for an hour when a sound of rushing water filled the air. Eris knew this part of the forest as well as the stream ahead. He often hunted around here.

The stream was actually quite small and harmless river, the only source of water for all kinds of creatures inhabiting this place. However, when it started to rain, it turned into a wild torrent that took and killed everything that stood in its way.

The hounds led him for a while down the stream, completely silent, their eyes on something he couldn't see yet. Gradually they slowed down until they stopped, growling lowly. There it was, his prey.

Eris hid behind the nearest trunk and listened. It took him a while to pick up on small whimpers and groans, coming from behind dense bush in the bend of the stream. Something was hiding in there.

He sneaked closer, securing one of the arrows in his grip. He quietly drew the bowstring to its maximum, ready to fire. He peeked out from his current hideaway, looking for the motion. There, among the yellow and orange leaves, a deep blue scaly tail glistened in the faint rays of sunlight penetrating through the treetops above him.

Eris frowned. What the fuck? He'd never encountered so big, strangely coloured snake nor heard about something like that. The tail was as thick as his own waist. What creature could be possibly so big. His gaze followed the trail of glittering scales to the place where the tail started to taper, disappearing in the water. Suddenly an enormous fish fin emerged from the water and splashing all around fell back.

Eris inhaled sharply. His gaze wandered to the other side where scales turned into a skin, a soft looking pale skin with slightly bluish undertone that had never been kissed by sunlight. Small bruises and wounds covered the torso of the young female with long sea-green hair. She lay face down, exhausted in the grass, her chest heaving heavily. She whimpered as she struggled to push up on her delicate arms, pulling herself on the bank. As soon as her fin left the water, she collapsed down and turned on her back, exposing naked chest with two lovely peaks.

Eris could swear that he already felt them in his palms, firm and squishy, hardening as he worked on them. He shook his head to get rid of that picture, to clear his mind once again.

He watched her with bated breath, drinking in the delicate beauty spread on ground before him. The big eyes of the colour of ocean searched the forest around her, but she didn't notice him. Her breath slowly calmed down, full lips lightly quivered. She had to be really scared, being so far away from her home in unknown territory. As far as he knew, mermaids didn't live in Autumn Court, only in ocean and mainly in Summer Court. She was indeed too far. How did she get here?

A small cuts on her tiny neck, the gills, closed up, turning into faint scars. In horror he watched as her tail began to melt before his eyes. He'd never encountered a real mermaid and any of the stories didn't mention that they could come out of the water. The panic gripped his insides at the thought of her turning into a sea foam and perishing just like that. He couldn't just stand here and keep watching, he had to help her.

Putting bow down, Eris stepped out from behind the tree trunk, heading to her. He abruptly halted when his gaze landed on two long pale legs. She wasn't dying, only changing. He'd never seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. His jaw tightened as his gaze roamed over her perfect naked body, slightly glistening as if dusted with glitter, his cock painfully twitching in the pants. He wanted her right there, right now. He hardly controlled his actions. A primal growl sounded in his chest, startling her.

Little mermaid's body fully turned to him, her face a mask of terror. The moment their gazes locked, he froze on spot, the urgent violent need faded into a faint feeling that made his heart fluttering with warmth he never felt till this day. She gasped and struggled to stand up, wailing in the pain. That snapped him out of his stupor. He blinked once, then twice. Wolfish grin slowly spread on his face.

"Let's see who I found wandering in my forest," he tilted his head to the side. The female took a step back, whimpering in more pain. Eris noticed a bloodstain on the place where she stood before. He swallowed hard, the desire to tease her and play with her was all gone instantly. "Are you seriously hurt?"

She didn't answer, only stared at him with those marvellous eyes.

He raised his hands, trying to not to scare her more. "I won't hurt you. Let's start again. I'm Eris Vanserra, a heir to the Autumn Court. Who are you?"

"I'm Mare," she finally spoke. Her voice was trembling, but it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. It was so melodic as the sweetest song in this world and carried the sound of the waves in it, smell of salt immediately hit his nose. The sound was luring him to come closer, his fingers tickled with need to touch her skin. It was so hard to resist it, but he was a stubborn male. Nothing could break him so easily.

"Very well," he said seemingly unaffected, giving her a smile he hoped was kind and reassuring. "How did you get to the forest, Mare? The ocean is quite far from here."

She looked around, searching for the words. It seemed that even speaking was painful for her. "I wanted to see the mainland and got caught in the storm. I think that something hit my head and when I woke up I was here, in this puddle of sweet water." She pointed her tiny finger to the stream with disgust.

Eris snorted, hiding it with his palm.

"I have to return to the ocean," she urged. "I don't have much time."

The urgency in her voice caused the smile to freeze on his face. "What happens if you don't?"

"I'll die," she said simply without an ounce of fear.

A shiver ran down Eris's spine. For some reason he couldn't allow that, but he didn't want to let her go. Not yet. Something in her presence made him feel at peace and so free as he'd never felt before. He narrowed his amber eyes on her, thinking.

"If I help you to get back, what will you give me in return?"

She tilted her head to the side, calculating. Her gaze darted nervously to the setting sun. Then she smiled sweetly. "What would you like to get for your help?"

Eris knew exactly what he wanted. "I want to see you again."

She blinked in shock. "You what?"

"You heard me. I want to meet with you again."

Her big eyes roamed over him, finally properly taking him in. She blushed and her expression softened. "Fine. So will you help me?"

Eris took down his jacket and stepping to her, he wrapped it around her delicate form, trying to not to look at all the tempting parts of her body that caused the fire in his vein roared with need. She was so small that she hardly reached to his chest, his jacket looking like a dress on her.

When she was finally fully covered, he picked her up, tugging her to his chest. She blushed even more fiercely, her heart beating so fast and strongly that he not only heard it but also felt it. He couldn't suppress the gentle expression that softened his features as he looked down on her.

"Fine," he hummed and winnowed them to the coast.

The salty wind ruffled their hair and Mare twitched in his arms, desperate to get back to the water.

"Not so fast," he murmured, tightening his grip on her. He carried her all the way to the line of water, but didn't stop there. He continued until he stood up to his waist in the water.

"Don't forget your promise, Mare."

"I won't," she looked up at him. "Thank you, Eris." With that she reached up and pulled closer to his face. She pressed her cold lips against his, drawing a moan from him. She taste even better than he was imagining.

So slowly he lowered with her to the waves, feeling exactly the moment her legs changed back into the tail. She sank into the waters and he gladly followed her, their lips still dancing, drinking each other. When his lungs started to burn with pain, she pushed him away, and he emerged to the surface, gulping the fresh air. He looked behind him and gasped in surprise. He was at least a kilometer from the shore now. Glittering deep blue tail rose from the waters and fell back down, splashing it into his face. He laughed out as hand caressed his chest.

"I won't forget," ocean around him sang and he knew she was gone. Yet he waited for another ten minutes, hoping to see a glimpse of her hair or tail and only then he swam back to the shore. There he stretched out on the white sand, letting the last rays of sun to dry his clothes. New tattoo on his inner thigh prickled his skin as he listened to the song that was carried on the waves about the red-hair prince with fire in eyes and little mermaid that fell in love on first sight.

#eris x oc #eris fanfic #eris fic #eris x mermaid #eris vanserra #eris acotar #high lord of autumn #autumn court #high lord eris #pro eris vanserra #erisweek2024

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mya-valentine · 3 months ago

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Patchwork of Love

Synopsis: Every day, Baizhu’s sweet but clumsy girlfriend returns to the Bubu Pharmacy with fresh bruises and scrapes from her relentless desire to help others. Though her heart is as big as her mishaps, Baizhu dutifully patches her up, offering gentle scoldings and warm care. Baizhu can’t help but fall deeper in love—bruises and all.

Baizhu’s day at Bubu Pharmacy was winding down, and as the sun dipped low over Liyue Harbor, casting an amber glow over the bustling streets, he could feel the familiar tug of concern in his chest. It was about time she showed up.

He had come to expect it. Just as the stars rose in the sky, his girlfriend—sweet, clumsy, and full of life—would stumble through the pharmacy doors with her latest set of injuries, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. Her kind heart meant she could never walk past anyone in need, but her boundless energy and reckless compassion often landed her in precarious situations.

Sure enough, the familiar jingle of the bell over the door rang out, and in she walked, her steps a little uneven but her smile as bright as ever. Baizhu’s eyes softened as they fell upon her. She was cradling her arm gingerly, a fresh bruise forming on her elbow, and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She looked like she had gone through quite the adventure.

“Another busy day?” he asked, his voice laced with both fondness and exasperation as she plopped herself onto the examination bench. He could already see a few bandages peeking out from under her sleeve—undoubtedly from her previous mishaps earlier in the week.

She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “I couldn’t just ignore the old lady struggling with her cart in the market! And then... well, there was a cat stuck in a tree. After I helped her, I—uh—might have slipped on a loose stone. But don’t worry! I’m fine!”

Baizhu sighed and moved to gather his medical supplies, Changsheng coiling lazily on his shoulders, her head tilting in mild amusement. “You really are something,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no real edge to his words. She was fine—more or less—and he supposed he should be used to this by now. Still, his heart ached a little every time he saw her hurt.

As he approached, she held out her arm without complaint, used to the routine. He started dabbing a gentle antiseptic on her scrapes, his touch light and careful. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips, and for all her reckless behavior, she had such a delicate presence. He always marveled at the contrast—how someone so kind and gentle could also be so clumsy and accident-prone.

“You’ve got to be more careful,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up with more than just bruises.”

She winced at the sting of the antiseptic but smiled up at him, eyes warm with affection. “I know, I know. But I can’t help it! When I see someone in need, it’s like… I have to help. Besides, it’s nothing you can’t fix, right?”

Baizhu shook his head, though he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not the point. Just because I can patch you up doesn’t mean you should go looking for trouble.”

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears, and leaned back a little, watching him work with those soft, trusting eyes of hers. “I don’t look for trouble, Baizhu. Trouble just seems to find me.”

That was an understatement, and he couldn’t argue with it. From what he had gathered, half of Liyue knew her by now—she had helped so many people, from the fishermen at the docks to the merchants in the market, even the Millelith soldiers stationed around the harbor. Her kindness was boundless, and so was her ability to find herself in precarious situations.

Once he was done bandaging her latest scrape, Baizhu carefully examined the bruise forming on her elbow. “It’s just a bruise this time, but if you keep falling like this, it could be worse. Please, at least try to be more aware of your surroundings.”

She gave him a mock salute, grinning. “Yes, doctor!”

He sighed again but couldn’t hold back the smile that broke through. “Alright, let’s get you home.”

They walked side by side, the quiet evening settling around them as the streets of Liyue began to wind down from the day’s activity. The breeze was gentle, carrying with it the scent of the sea. Baizhu slipped his hands into his sleeves as they walked, his gaze drifting over to her every now and then. She was chattering happily, recounting her day and all the people she had helped.

“And then, after the cat, I went to the market to help Mrs. Chen with her cart. She was so grateful, Baizhu! But, um… while I was helping her, I tripped over one of the vegetables someone had dropped and went flying right into a stack of crates! You should have seen it—it was like something out of a comedy show.”

He shook his head, half in disbelief and half in amusement. “You really are unbelievable.”

“I know, I know. But think of all the people I helped today!” She beamed up at him, her joy infectious. “Isn’t it worth a few bumps and bruises if I can make someone’s day a little brighter?”

Baizhu’s chest tightened at her words. She was so pure-hearted, so selfless, and he admired her more than he could ever put into words. But that didn’t stop him from worrying. She was his world, and seeing her hurt—even in small ways—always left him uneasy. Still, he couldn’t bear to stifle that light in her. It was who she was, and it was part of what made him love her so deeply.

As they reached her door, she turned to him, her eyes softening. “Thank you, Baizhu. For always taking care of me.”

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone has to.”

She laughed again, the sound bright against the quiet night, and before he could react, she stood on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll try to be more careful. Promise.”

Baizhu’s expression softened, and he gently took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Good. I’d appreciate that.”

They stood there for a moment, the warmth of the evening wrapping around them like a blanket. It was a quiet, simple moment, but to Baizhu, it was everything. She was everything. And as much as her clumsiness and boundless energy sometimes exasperated him, he wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Alright, go get some rest,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes full of warmth. “Goodnight, Baizhu.”

As he watched her disappear inside, Baizhu couldn’t help the small smile that lingered on his lips. Tomorrow, he knew, would be much the same—she would find someone to help, get herself hurt, and end up in his care once again. But in truth, he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything in the world.

Masterlist

#baizhu #baizhu x reader #genshin impact baizhu #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin baizhu

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

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Insatiable Gravity (Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

You tried to shove your way through their body blockade, annoyance seeping into your words. “What is this nonsense all about? No one’s sleeping on the floor, don’t be daft.” Seeing that their embarrassed stumblings were getting them nowhere, the Slytherin’s hung their heads and stepped aside so you could get through. Seeing the full extent of the room now, you were able to understand their trepidation. “Oh…” There was only one bed. *** When it rains, it pours, and when you and your two Slytherin boys get trapped in a downpour far away from the castle, your only hope at salvation is the little inn down the road. The problem, though? They only have one room available for the night, and the room only has one bed.

Word Count: 8k

Is this a shamelessly self indulgent piece where i let my mind go absolutely feral and write every conceived notion i had about the boys' physical appearance into existence? yes. yes it is. Enjoy.

Rain poured from the sky in thick sheets of water, coating every inch of the small muggle town the trio of students ventured to earlier in the day. The three of you found yourselves stuck under a shop awning, huddled away from the freezing cold droplets, scowls decorating each of your faces like the world had slighted you. The night cast an eerily blue opaqueness on the buildings, the only bits of color spawning from the illuminated windows of the cottages lining the streets. It had been Sebastian’s idea to travel to the muggle village in search for some possible remedies for his sister's curse; he had read something about herbal medicine in one of the many tombs littering the Hogwarts library. In your long search for a cure the sun had quickly set across the horizon, casting a slight glimmer of stars across the sky and bringing forth an onslaught of ink black cumulonimbus clouds and a diamond toned shower. The students knew that they would be stuck there until they were able to apparate away in the morning— it was forbidden to use magic where it could be possibly spotted by one of the muggles milling about.

You cast your eyes to the boys next to you, taking in their forms against the pounding rain. Sebastian’s hair was slicked back for once, the tresses sopping wet like a sponge and curling slightly at the ends. He had pushed it back once you got out of the downpour, leaving his eyes to be on full display, shining even brighter under the low lamplight. His clothing fared just as well— cloak hanging off his shoulders like a heavily weighted blanket and his white button down near translucent under his green corduroy suit jacket. You felt color creep up your neck and onto your cheeks at the sight of his broad chest peaking through the slits of cloth. It was no secret that the brunette was attractive, many of the girls in your year had made that fact explicitly clear. There was an air about him that drew people in, a moth to a flame in his own way. He was the charismatic, mischievous type that somehow would become your fathers best friend. You can’t help the soft look that takes over your features; a small smile tweaks at the corners of your lips as you admired him in all his glory. His hand was resting on his head, his palm pressed against his hair and pushing back the curls so he could see through the inclement weather. As if feeling your gaze, he turns in your direction and the pools of amber that melt in his irises meet yours for a moment. Caught in the act, you quickly looked away and stared hotly at the stone floor below, your cheeks flowing a startling scarlet out of embarrassment. He snorted at your obvious admiration, turning away to look outwards into the storm once again with a toothy grin pulling at his mouth, his cheeks coloring his own shade of a light rosy hue.

Risking a glance yet again, you look up through your eyelashes at the second boy, drinking in the form of a disheveled Ominis Gaunt. The normally prim and proper Slytherin looked quite similar to a drowned rat as of late, but much to your chagrin it somehow still suited him. His normally quiffed hair fell across his forehead, significantly longer than you had imagined, and cascaded into his eyes like a blond waterfall. The orange lights that lined the streets glowed in his eyes like brilliant little fires, blazing against his cornflower shaded irises and catching the streaks of lavender lightning that zigzagged in them. Even in the cloudburst that threw itself against the pavement, he still had an air of regality about him— the type of boy your parents hoped you’d marry one day. He oozed old money, from the intricate chained decals that clipped his cloak together to his silver snake cufflinks. The boy may not believe it— he was terribly modest— but he caught the female gaze just as much as the brunette he kept as close company. Your gaze locked on his taut shoulders, trailing from their curvature towards where his collarbones jutted out under his skin and created a lovely shelf atop his chest. The starry birthmarks that lined his body shone through his perfectly pressed shirt, also merely nothing more than a thin sheet thanks to the precipitation, and created a smooth trail down his fair skin from neck to wrist. You were stuck for a particularly long time on his biceps, the muscles that you very rarely saw straining against the satin fabric in a show of wry strength. He had shucked off his robe not long after the rain began, complaining of its weight, leaving him in just his button down and paisley embroidered forest green vest. You gulped deep in your throat, mouth suddenly very dry as you stared for longer than was deemed socially acceptable. The blond did not meet your gaze, unlike his counterpart, but you knew he could feel the heat of your ogling. Looking down once again, you could see a small smile turn the corners of his mouth and tips of his ears blush a soft rosacea out of the corner of your eye.

You cleared your throat, casting your gaze back to the stout building across from you. The little inn’s windows were frosted over from the cold, the thick water droplets that raced down its panes leaving thin trails of clarity and light. Braziers lined the walls inside, glittering in the autumn night and flinging a radiant apricot-toned light along the puddles lining the streets. You shivered under your layers of drenched clothing, heavy vibrations wracking through your body and drawing the attention of the two boys flanking you once again.

You hesitantly spoke, teeth chattering and voice barely carrying itself into their ears because of the pounding rain. “We should turn in for the night— get out of the rain before we freeze solid. The inn looks like it still has some vacancies.”

Sebastian made an unsure noise in the back of his throat, mouth stretching into a thin line. “I would prefer we just go back to the castle. It can’t be that far away, we made it by foot earlier.”

Ominis spoke up from your other side, eyebrows knitted together in annoyance and tone scathing. “Are you the blind one, now? It’s pouring, you dolt. We wouldn’t be able to make it back if we tried, even in the daylight. Not to mention none of us know how to apparate yet, so we’d likely be stuck on bedrest for the next week sick as dogs.” He sighed heavily, milky blue eyes closing as he let his head fall backwards towards the roof. “I think the inn would be our best bet. Let’s just hope they’ll rent to us.”

The brunette huffed to himself, arms crossing over his chest as he was out voted. The three of you steeled yourself to go back into the downpour, pulling your cloaks tightly around your bodies and hoods over your heads to try and avoid getting more wet. On the count of three, you all sprinted across the large courtyard separating your shelter from the inn. Ominis grabbed tightly onto your sleeve, letting you pull him along since he couldn’t use his location charm. The rain felt like tiny sharp stings against your cheeks; your cloak was unsuccessful keeping out the wet and the chill.

Sebastian made it to the entrance first, throwing open the door with a loud bang and ushering the both of you indoors. The sudden temperature change once you crossed the threshold sent a shiver down your spine. A large ornate fireplace was tucked against the wall, swirling radiating heat throughout the whole bottom floor of the building and kissing your damp cheeks with a pleasant warmth. You were sure the three of you looked like a right sight— strange clothes hanging from your bones like you were draped in countless, very wet blankets, and dripping onto the wood floor below you. You tried to fix your appearance slightly, pushing your hair out of your eyes and attempting to straighten your top and skirt. The cloth stuck to your skin, making the task near impossible, and eventually you relented in your quest for proper etiquette. You pulled your cloak tighter against your body, shielding your surely see-through shirt from the ravenous eyes of the male hotel patrons. As if sensing your unease, Sebastian leveled his gaze into a glare and took a minute step in front of you, Ominis doing the same but to your rear. Shuffling like a conjoined unit, the three of you approached the front desk with a hope of sanctuary.

The man in front of you was older, probably about the same age as Professor Weasley, and looked inviting enough to speak to. He smiled hesitantly at your trio, his eyes wracking up and down your sopping wet forms and taking everything you had to offer in. He spoke confidently, but with a question obviously lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“How can I help you three?”

Ominis took the lead, subtly shifting into his more prim and proper nature. “We would like to rent two rooms, please. We are traveling through and got caught in the rain; it would be unwise to continue on foot at this time.”

The innkeep leveled a suspicious stare at the boy, letting his eyes roam from his milky, unseeing eyes to where his shoulder brushed against yours, then across your own form, sticking for a moment where your other shoulder touched Sebastian’s, and then finally up to the brunette’s stoic face. You certainly were an odd bunch.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “How old are you lot?”

Ominis straightened his shoulders, standing to his full height and twisting his face into one of the most serious expressions you had ever seen cross his visage. “Old enough to rent a room for one night, I would think. Now, are you going to let my wife, her brother, and I rest after a very long day, or shall we turn our business elsewhere?”

You fought the blush that threatened to creep up your neck. His wife? Oh Merlin, you were in trouble. Of all the lies to tell, why that one? Of all ways to try and make you seem older…

To your left, Sebastian’s face contorted more into a scowl.

The blond reached into his cloak and pulled out a small satchel, tossing it onto the countertop before the hotel owner. It jingled as it fell— copper money clinking together in a rich little symphony.

“I assure you, our coin is good.”

The man looked shocked, eyes now flickering between the tall boy and the bag of riches. You could see the cogs turning in his mind as he thought about the best course of action— he tended to speak more with his eyes, you noted to yourself. The thought of money seemed to outweigh his qualms about renting to three very obvious teenagers as he reached forwards and grabbed the tiny bag.

“Only got one room available. Take it or leave it.”

The two boys stiffened at your sides, their minds filling with similar images of the three of you huddled close together for warmth. You could tell Ominis was about to object, and as hesitant as you also were you knew that there wasn’t another inn for miles. You quickly jumped into the conversation, to hell with what was normally deemed proper.

“We’ll take it, right boys?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t really care if they didn’t agree with sharing a room with you. The sweet song of a warm bath called to you like a siren, and you wanted nothing more than to dive deep under the water and let it envelop you.

Grumbling under their breath, they both nodded their heads. You reached your hand out, taking the key from the kind man and followed in his footsteps as he led you to the room.

After thanking the kind man again, you could barely make it two steps into the cabin before running into the strong backs of Sebastian and Ominis. They both stood stone-still in the entryway, eyes locked on something in front of them like a doe under the watchful eye of a hunter. Your eyes could only just peek over their shoulders, and upon placing your hands on their forearms as you stood on the tips of your toes, you could feel the heated blush creeping up under their clothes. Your eyebrows crested together in confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You could only describe the atmosphere around you as awkward as both boys cleared their throats and began stuttering out various forms of explanations and decisions about…sleeping arrangements?

“I-it’s nothing! Don’t worry about it, w-we can figure something out—”

“We can sleep on the floor, i-if that would make everyone more comfortable. It’s only proper that the lady g-get the bed—”

Merlin, you’d never heard them so shaken before.

You tried to shove your way through their body blockade, annoyance seeping into your words. “What is this nonsense all about? No one’s sleeping on the floor, don’t be daft.”

Seeing that their embarrassed stumblings were getting them nowhere, the Slytherin’s hung their heads and stepped aside so you could get through. Seeing the full extent of the room now, you were able to understand their trepidation.

“Oh…”

There was only one bed.

Ominis spoke up from your side, his hand rubbing at the back of his very red neck. “As I said, we can sleep on the floor if that would make you more comfortable…” His sentence trailed off at the end, nervous about your possible reactions.

Sebastian nodded his head to your left before catching your eye, causing him to turn his face away and admire the painting on the wall like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. You caught sight of the intense rouge on his cheeks before he was able to hide it, though.

You sighed to yourself, closing your eyes tightly and fighting off the blush that threatened to color you from the top of your chest to the tips of your ears. You willed away the unseemly images that swam in your mind at the thought of the three of you tangled together on the very small bed. It was barely enough room for two people, let alone three— you’d be pressed as close as possible for the whole night, warm bodies linked together like an intricate knot. Heat pooled in your stomach at the thought of being in the middle of both boys, one pressed against your backside and the other against your front like a tantalizing sandwich.

You cleared your throat, your mouth suddenly incredibly dry as you schooled your expression into one of neutrality, praying that they couldn’t read your ulterior motives on your face. “I-I’m fine with sharing if you both are. We’re friends— friends can share a bed for a night.”

You didn’t think it was possible for Ominis to get any more red; any darker and he would resemble a fresh tomato.

Sebastian heaved a shaky sigh, like he was trying to expel all of the uncouth thoughts and sheer nerves from his system, and cleared his throat again, already turning towards the en-suite bathroom down the tightly packed hallway.

“I’ll follow your lead. Now, I would like to take a bath and get out of these wet clothes if that’s alright with you.”

Your reply bounced harmlessly against his retreating form. “O-Okay!”

Mere moments later, the sound of running water reached your ears.

The remaining two of the trio stood there in a statue-like pause, stewing in their own personal wet dream for a moment with an uneasy, awful silence. You’d given up trying to shut your mind up by this point, instead trying to adopt a laissez faire attitude about the whole thing and ignoring the ache between your legs that screamed to be taken care of. Merlin, you had never been this worked up before, even in the comfort and privacy of your own room. One measly setback and you’d transformed into a prepubescent school boy!

Ominis was the first to break himself out of his stupor, shuffling around on his feet and dropping his jaw open and closed like a dying fish as he searched for the right words to say. He breathed deeply through his nose, steadying himself before gesturing with his hand towards the rest of the room.

“After you.” Always the gentleman, that one.

You nodded, whispering a quiet thanks before stepping out of the cramped entryway. The room was scarce, just a single full bed and a rug adorning the wood floor. Some paintings were hung on the wall to make it seem more homely, but the effect honestly just made it seem even smaller. You sat on the mattress, testing the feel under you and the softness of the sheets. They were slightly rough against your hands, but nothing that would deter you from sleep for the night. The bed barely gave way to your weight— the thing had to be made of stone with how hard it was. Maybe the floor would actually be better, you mused to yourself.

The blond cleared his throat for the upteenth time that night, drawing your attention towards where he leaned against the opposite wall. There really wasn’t much room in the space, if you stretched your foot a little bit further you could touch his. He looked away again, feeling your eyes on his skin— the attention from you felt like a million tiny hot pokers.

“You should get out of those clothes.” Color flooded his face again once he realized what he said. “I-I mean because your clothes are wet! You could catch a cold— oh Merlin, I am so sorry, that came out entirely wrong—”

His sentence pittered out at the sound of your giggle. The blond let his shoulders relax slightly, grateful you weren’t offended by his blunder. You stood, beginning to peel layers of your clothes from your body and letting them fall to the floor with a wet plop. Sitting back on the bed, now sans your cloak, blazer, vest, tie, and tights, you smiled mischievously in the boy’s direction, lightly teasing him.

“My, Ominis, if you wanted my clothes off all you had to do was ask nicely.”

The blond laughed heartily, pushing off the wall and striding the small distance towards the bed, sitting down next to you and crossing one of his legs under him. He fell easily back into the playful banter you’d adopted since your first unfortunate meeting outside the Undercroft.

“You’d like that, you vixen.”

This time, his teasing had a different effect than normal— the intimacy of the situation not lost on your subconscious in the slightest. The air around you felt fraught with tension; he was suddenly much closer to you than what was normally deemed appropriate. He seemed to sense this as well, and his body tensed under your watchful gaze. You had jokingly flirted before, both with him and with Sebastian, but this was incredibly different. It felt different. Your hands were nearly touching on the bed, your knees brushing against each other from the angle of your bodies. Ever so slightly, you slid your hand along the bedspread, grazing your pinky against his, listening to his breathing hitch at the shock of your cold skin against his. Not a single breath could be heard in the space, all the blood rushing to your head and your pupils dilating at the barely concealed look of what you could only describe as want in Ominis’ eyes.

Gods, did he want this as much as you did? Need you as much as you needed him?

His hand inched the rest of the way, sliding over the top of your fingers and gripping them between his much longer ones. Your breaths mingled in the space between you, the warmth brushing across your freezing cheeks and curling around your pounding heart— the organ could rocket out of your chest at any moment, and you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care; you just didn’t want him to move away. On the contrary, the opposite happened— Ominis began to move closer. His breathing stuttered in his chest, a soft shaky sigh falling from his open mouth when he felt you do the same.

He licked his lips, eyes half lidded in desire. “We shouldn’t… Sebastian is in the bathroom.”

You shifted closer, resting your other hand on his knee. Your voice was nothing more than a breath in the wind. “Of course…it wouldn’t be right of us.”

Your faces inched closer and closer together, noses nearly brushing at this point. The pulsing in your ears muted everything else in the room, not alerting you to the sound of water draining out of the bathtub. What was startlingly loud, though, was the creak of the bathroom door slowly swinging open and Sebastian stepping into the room. The both of you jumped apart like the idea of your skin touching burned you. You quickly stood from the bed, ignoring the very confused brunette who was standing there in only his undershirt and boxers, and nearly sprinted to the washroom, mumbling that you would be taking your turn in the hot water now.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you threw your face into your hands, groaning as quietly as possible. Why did you do that? You’ve been in love with those two idiots for a year at least, and now you choose to do something about it? Good lord, why now, why you, why them? You wanted to kiss Ominis in that moment more than anything else in the world, it was like his lips were calling to you in the sweetest voice you had ever heard before— curse Sebastian and his terrible timing! You wanted to throw something at him— a chair, yourself, you weren’t picky.

The thought of the other boy sent your heart into even more of a tissy, thinking back to how scantily clad he was when you ran like a bat out of hell past him. Merlin, his shoulders, his arms, his thighs. Don’t even get you started on that slutty little waist of his. You were burning inside with arousal at the mere thought of him leaning over you, his tanned, heavenly freckled arms caging your head in on either side.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You quickly shed the rest of your clothes from your body, taking the time to fold your underwear and slip dress for later and placing them on the sink— everything else you kicked away into a pile next to Sebastian’s things. There was something so…domestic about your clothes mingled together on the floor. Stepping into the scalding hot water sent a lovely shock through your system, heating your freezing skin back to a normal temperature. The moan that left your throat was damn near sinful. You soaked in the water for a good while, letting the stress of the evening shed from you like the droplets of rain smacking against the windowpane. It was complete bliss, being alone with nothing but your thoughts and the sweet smell of the lavender soap that the inn provided. Your thoughts began to wonder again, thinking about what Ominis’ lips would have felt like against yours. They looked so incredibly soft, and you wondered if they would feel like kissing little tiny clouds— if they would be just as pillowy pressed against the rest of your skin. You closed your eyes and let your mind drift, allowing yourself the smallest bit of indulgence in your insatiable appetite. The picture behind your eyes shifted to Sebastian, how the rain ran down his neck, dripping down his pulse and pooling in the tiny dips of his collarbones under the translucent fabric of his collar. You wondered what the water would taste like on his skin. Would it be salty, like sweat? Mild, like rain normally was? Sweet, like the promise of more to come? You bit your lip against the small whine that threatened to leave your mouth, quickly pulling your hand away from where it began to bury in your naked core. No! You couldn’t do that right now, they were just outside the door!

With the last little bit of self control you had left, you stood from your watery paradise and dried off with the towel hanging on the rack closest to you. You just had to get through this night, then you could go back to the castle and have as much solo fun as you wanted.

The universe must have truly wanted you to die of embarrassment, because as soon as you left the sanctuary of the bathroom you ran into the scrumptiously sturdy chest of Ominis, causing him to grab you roughly by the hips so you didn’t go tumbling and press his entire body flush with yours. His heavy panting breaths were perfectly level with your ear at that angle, filling your mind once again with the tantalizing thoughts that you fought so hard to keep at bay. Your spine dug harshly into the door jam as you fell back from the velocity of the crash, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of his fingers tightening against the silk of your shift and the look of intrigued confusion turning down his face at the unfamiliar feeling fabric. Merlin, his face was so close again. His hands glided up your waist, feeling each and every one of your curves like a ship captain charting out the stars, ever so lightly grazing the sides of your breasts before finding purchase on your bare shoulders. Only when his fingers dug deliciously into your skin and you gasped against him did he realize exactly how scantily clad you were. The blond made a noise very similar to a strangled kneazle and lept back, nearly crashing into the other side of the room. If eyes could speak, his would be screaming. Only now with him at arms distance did you notice the absolutely breathtaking pink that took over his entire face and neck, making his beauty marks stand out against his skin like brushstrokes by the finest painter in all the land. You shamelessly trailed your eyes down his chest again, watching it rise and fall from the sheer desperation of his lungs fighting to get air to his brain. Speaking of brains, your eyes made one last jump down to his trousers, finding the fabric pulled taut against his hips and silhouetting a quite lovely shape against his thigh— something you vaguely remember feeling against your own thigh moments ago. You swallowed the moan that threatened to tumble from your throat, your thighs clenching together slightly. You’d drop to your knees and pray at the church of him at that very second if you weren’t so damned shy.

Ominis scrambled upright fully, dancing from foot to foot out of embarrassment before tripping into the bathroom, only turning slightly in the doorway to throw an apology in your direction. “Oh my— I just— I’m terribly sorry— I’m just going to— oh, Merlin—”

The door closed with a slam, the lock twisting with a resounding click soon after.

A dark-colored chuckle from your left drew your attention, twisting your neck towards the waiting Slytherin now man-spreading on the bed, a pillow pressed just so across his lap. The devilish smirk stretched further across Sebastian’s face at the barely concealed arousal that grew in your eyes. Your pupils flickered from his face down to the feather-down cushion, imagining the treasure that you could find underneath the layers of cotton and tuff.

Somehow you were able to gulp against the Sahara Desert levels of dry that your mouth was at the current moment.

The brunette patted the bed next to him invitingly, shifting slightly over out of courtesy as you stumbled over, your legs feeling like gelatin from a mix of the lust and exhaustion that mingled in your veins. His eyes never left yours as you sat, feeling him drink in the sight of you in nothing but your underclothes, dangerously dehydrated.

“How was your bath?” He asked, a smugness you were very familiar with teasing knowingly in his voice.

You giggled nervously, smoothing your hands down your thighs to wipe the sweat from your palms. “It was nice— very comfortable.”

Sebastian chuckled again, his face leaning in closer to you like he was whispering a secret. “It certainly sounded like it.”

It felt like your heart was beating at a mile a minute. Where did this confidence come from all of a sudden? What happened while you were in the bathroom?

You thought back to the tent in Ominis’ trousers, casting your gaze back down to the pillow adorning Sebastian’s lap.

There was absolutely no way. Surely not?

Sebastian answered that question for you when he rested his hand on your thigh, smoothing his fingers up and under the silk fabric slightly and rubbing his thumb against your sweltering skin. “I can say with complete honesty that we also enjoyed your bath.”

You’d drowned in the bathtub, that had to be the answer for this fever dream— that was the only answer to this sudden shift in personality by your ravenous brunette friend. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive, lick you down to the bone and suck the marrow from inside like a perfectly cooked t-bone steak. You could tell he still had some restraint about him from the way that he fisted the bed sheets he was leaning his other arm on, keeping his body upright and stopping him from all but throwing you onto the mattress and devouring you like his favorite meal. Heat continued to pool more and more in your core, your abdomen tightening against the pleasure pulsing in your lower stomach.

“S-Sebastian—”

He plowed through your sentence, his niceties and manners giving way to the carnal desire throbbing under his skin. “That being said, I’m sure we could have even more fun out here, couldn’t we?”

His hot breath fanned across your face like a delectable fire, turning your insides to mush and threatening to do the same with your rational thought. You placed your hand against the center of his very toned chest— Merlin— and pushed him away slightly, inhaling air into your shivering lungs like it was your job.

“Sebastian, Ominis is right there. We can’t—”

He scoffed, dragging the hand on your thigh the rest of the way under your slip and wrapping it around your waist, pulling you closer to him harshly, causing you to lose your balance and press as close as possible to him. He leaned his face upwards, something unfamiliar but dangerous glittering in his irises as he whispered in your ear— his sinful smile pinning against the edge of your jaw.

“I assure you, he liked it too, lovely. I don’t think he’d be opposed to some…” He bit lightly at your earlobe, a soft moan breathing from your lips at his intrusion. “…auditory stimulation.”

Fuck it. Restraint never did you any favors, anyway.

He leaned his head downwards towards where your neck met your shoulder, nosing at the soft skin there before letting his teeth run gently against your pulse point. You moaned in earnest this time, not caring one bit if the blond behind the door mere feet away could hear you.

Good, you thought. Let him hear.

A loud crash came from the bathroom, startling Sebastian enough that he thrust his head upwards, catching on your chin painfully. You hissed, cradling the bruised bone in your hands as he quickly apologized, turning his full attention to the closed door just beyond. Ominis threw the door open, not even flinching when the door handle violently slammed against the wall, creating a dent in the drywall.

The blond stood there in all his glory, his chest heaving even harder now and a color closer to a ripe dragonfruit covering every inch of his skin. He had obviously just gotten out of the bath; his hair hung low in his face and dripped water steadily on the shoulder of his white undershirt. He too had taken everything off except his underclothes, his boxers hugging his hips in an absolutely scandalous way that made you want to rip them off then and there and get to the appetizing muscle tenting the fabric— Gods, he can never wear clothes around you ever again. Fighting your eyes to stop ogling the poor man, you cast your gaze to the floor just behind his feet, seeing a long bar of metal still rolling slightly against the tile and the towel that was once wrapped around it. On the wall where there was once a towel rack was now barren, just two holes decorating the space where it once lived. With one final eye flick, you look at Ominis’ hand closest to the scene of the crime, noticing that his fingers were a bright red from all the blood returning to the flesh. The puzzle pieces connected together in your brain after a few sluggish, very horny seconds.

Oh. Oh my. Ominis heard everything that just happened. Not only did he hear it, he liked it so much he accidentally ripped the towel rack off the wall with his desperation to open the door and hear it without the door muffling your sounds.

Sebastian must have come to the same conclusion as you, because his grin doubled in size with each passing second as he undressed the flustered blond with his eyes. “Ominis, what’s wrong—”

The once regal Slytherin crossed the room faster than you had ever seen him move before, quickly feeling his way up the brunette’s arm before grasping at his neck, pulling him closer and crashing their mouths together in a show of more teeth than lips. Sebastian responded eagerly, groaning low in his chest and threading his fingers in the wet tresses of his friend, pulling the blond closer against him in an awkward angle. You stared wide-eyed at the sight before you, watching your two best friends devour each other in a clash of lips and tongue, listening to the unseemly sounds that flowed in the air around them. You couldn’t help the feeble whimper that escaped your parted lips, drawing the attention of the esurient heir of Slytherin. Sebastian whined as Ominis pulled away from the embrace, only to choke on the sound at the sight of the blond surging forwards towards you with just as much ferocity as before and capturing your lips into an equally bruising kiss. His tongue dove into your open mouth, taking your invitation to explore with grandeur and mingling the soft muscle with yours. You fisted at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer and shifting backwards on the bed, pulling him downwards with you until he was laying on top of you. One of your hands reached up and buried itself in the thick blond locks of the one absolutely inhaling the sweet taste of your lips like the boy before did, your other falling to his waist and pushing underneath the hem of his shirt, running your palm across the hot skin of his stomach. All inhibition and propriety was thrown out the window just as fast as the downpour fell from the sky outside.

A third hand joined the fray— Sebastian’s resuming his original journey up the side of your underclothes and reaching your stomach, pushing the fabric up your supple thighs until it pooled at your waist, leaving your white cotton panties on show for all the world to see. He groaned in pain at the sight of the obvious wet patch right in the center, diving his face towards your open and inviting neck and biting at the skin there. You keened into Ominis’ mouth, arching your back off the bed and pressing the puddle of molten lava that resided between your legs against the blond’s hard length. He moaned heavenly against your lips, kissing his way down your cheek and jaw until he too latched his teeth onto your neck like his Slytherin counterpart. You were in absolute bliss, your brain shutting off and losing itself in the sweet pleasure that coursed through your entire body. This alone was going to kill you, and you would happily die in this battle of tongue and teeth.

May Odin take you into his waiting arms as you enter through the gates of Valhalla— this was certainly a war worthy for the land of kings and queens.

Everything was a rush of emotion, all feelings that had been buried deep down in your souls surging to the surface in one grand swoop. Laying there, a tangle of limbs and underclothes and sugar-scented breaths felt like it was exactly where you belonged in the world. With one head on each side of your neck, you could easily reach up and pull them by the hair closer into your orbit— you the sun and them the lowly planets revolving around your devastatingly bright euphoria.

You’d be perfectly content letting them worship you like this for the rest of time, but Ominis was always a bit more greedy than Sebastian when it came to the desires of the senses. The blond slowly made his way down to your chest, only stopping to pull your clothes from your body before diving right back into your soft, pillowy hereafter. He found your breasts quickly, letting his skilled hands first squeeze the flesh before tweaking your nipples, making them stand to a perfect peak before latching his mouth to the button and sucking. Your back lifted off the bed more, pathetic whines and mewls tumbling from your throat every so often, only to be broken up by whimpers of your companions' names. Sebastian smiled wickedly against your pulse, continuing to bite and nibble at the skin there as the hand not busy wrapped around your throat reached down and pawed at your other, very neglected mound of flesh. He wanted to only hear those sounds from then on out— wanted to hear even more of them.

Ominis pulled off of your peak with an absolutely raunchy pop, pressing one of his arms against your hips when he felt you grind against his throbbing length as your lovers pleased you. He nipped lightly at the skin in between your mountains, nosing gently at your sternum and whispering against your ribs.

“None of that yet. Let us take care of you, darling.”

Your heart stopped for a full five seconds— goodbye cruel world. Cause of death: horny boy with a penchant for people-pleasing.

You sighed shakily, your words stuttered and soaking in flustered arousal. “O-Okay…”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest and shaking against you. “Good. You sound so beautiful like this. What I would give to see you spread out below us— my hands can only just suffice my craving.”

A particularly loud sob falls from your lips at the feeling of Sebastian tweaking your nipple with just the right amount of pressure. “Am I dreaming?”

It was Sebastian’s turn to laugh, his breath warming the skin of your collarbone. “I really hope not, because then all three of us would be dreaming the same thing. We don’t need Professor Onai to see that in our crystal ball, do we?”

You rolled your eyes with a huff. “You know what I me— oh fuck!”

In your blissful haze, you didn’t feel Ominis kiss his way down your body and situate himself between your thighs until he licked a long stripe along the dripping crotch of your panties. The brunette teasing you groaned again in agony at the sight of the other Slytherin’s thoroughly mussed up blond quiff poking out from between your inner thighs.

With a renewed vigor, Sebastian helped the blond pull your panties down your legs, latching back onto your neck like a leech once the offending fabric was far away from where his hands could roam. Ominis kneeled on the bed, face level with your sweltering center and breathing in the sweet, musky scent of your pleasure. Merlin, you were a goddess— your beguiling center the most saccharine ambrosia to him. He was sure if he ate you how he wished he too would become a god. You reached your hand down, fisting his hair between your trembling fingers and tugging lightly at the root, whining for him to move, to do something. You needed him on a biblical level. After centuries of waiting, Ominis repeated his movement from before, diving into your oceanic sea and lapping at your waves like Poseidon himself.

You’d never known pleasure like this before— never known indulgence like this before. He flicked his tongue against the painfully hard knot at the top of your center, pushing your clit lightly with just enough pressure before taking it into his mouth and suckling lightly. Stars burst behind your eyes, filling your world with supernovas dyed the color of your partners’ eyes.

Desperate to make them both feel good too, you reached your free hand towards Sebastian, wrapping your fist around his throbbing member that hung so nicely near your face and pulling it out of the strangling fabric of his boxers. He whined at the cool air against his scorching skin. One of your legs was thrown over Ominis’ shoulder, allowing the boy to get a better grip of you as he wolfed you down like a man starved and allowing you the ability to press his hips closer to the bed, grinding his manhood against the knitted blankets. His resulting moan, more of a growl if you had to be specific, sent vibrations right to the knot that was building in your lower stomach, tightening it closer to its inevitable snap. Sebastian’s eyes never left the scene before him as he sat up to his knees, wrapping his hand around yours and showing you how he liked to be touched as you bathed in the throes of rapture. Soon moans came from the both of you as you picked up on the rhythm, your voices harmonizing like a melodic hymn at the pews of gluttonous lust and stalling the gears turning in the brain of the blond between your legs. He began to shamelessly rut against the mattress below his hips, letting your leg press him down closer and providing an otherworldly amount of pressure against his still clothed cock. The friction pushed the band of his underwear down more and more with each thrust until his member was finally free. His bare skin against the vaguely soft blankets the inn provided felt astronomically better than before.

At the sound of Ominis’ self pleasuring, the cries of the people he loved so shamefully before in just the comfort of his mind becoming so much for him to handle that he couldn’t wait one more moment to feel something against his agonizingly hard cock, you pull Sebastian closer by his member, hoping he got the message you were trying to convey without words. He luckily did, a hungry look taking over his expression as he got off the bed, pulling your body closer to the edge so your mouth was exactly level with him. He groaned when he felt your soft lips close around the pulsating pink tip of his shaft, your tongue flicking against the prominent vein that stretched from the top to the bottom. Ominis moaned again against your clit, hearing what was going on above him and grinding his member against the bed with more vigor than before, causing you to rock your hips harshly against his face and pull more of Sebastian into your throat. The brunette couldn’t hold back his inhibitions anymore; with a firm grip he wrapped his hand around your neck for a second time that night, using the leverage provided to fuck into your mouth slowly.

No words needed to be said by anyone involved, each of you taken over by pure, wanton frenzy. Being used by Sebastian was a religious experience in itself, and you just a devout follower eager to please— Ominis your angel from above, pouring devotion into his every move, rewarding you for a job well done.

Your muted hums quickly became louder against Sebastian’s cock when Ominis pressed a digit into your weeping hole, stretching you just right and curling against the spot that made you believe heaven was real. The combination of your throat vibrating against him and your tongue flicking just under the ridge of his head was all it took to do him in indefinitely, his hips stuttering in your velvet mouth and the hand not wrapped around your throat tugging at your hair, trying to pull you off of him. You held on tighter, your free hand gripping his thigh and keeping him right where he was.

Absolutely not.

Sebastian’s eyes rolled back into his head when you closed your lips tighter and sucked, sending profanities to pour from his mouth like a broken faucet.

“Oh fuck— Yes, Merlin, just like that— Shit, I’m gonna cum. Take it all for me— good girl—”

You caught every drop of his salty release as it slid down your throat, letting your legs squeeze tighter against Ominis’ skull at the sweeter-than-candy whine that released from the brunette above you.

With one partner spent, you were determined to meet him soon in his little death and take the other Slytherin with you. With the last bit of your strength, you grinded against Ominis’ face, chasing the orgasm that crested just under the surface of your skin. The blond did the same with a muffled growl, pulling you tighter against his frantic mouth and letting you suffocate him in your enticing embrace as he rutted his hips against the mattress to near completion. With one more strong suck on your clit, timed perfectly with a curl of his finger inside of you, you tumbled over the edge of your metaphorical cliff. Sebastian thought through his orgasmic haze that nearly everyone in the inn must have heard your screaming finish. Ominis followed you soon after, his release staining the sheets below him as your thighs tightened impossibly more against his ears as your climax ripped through your system.

The three of you crumpled together onto the bed, tangled in a messy knot of limbs and desperately needing a second bath as you fought off exhaustion just enough to climb under the covers. Once the blanket covered all of your naked forms, you dozed off into a pleasant slumber, one arm slung over the waist of the brunette cradled in your shoulder and the other hand resting on the crossed forearms of the blond hugged against your back. Conversation could happen tomorrow; for now, the night was growing old and you needed all of your energy for the trek home tomorrow.

As you were drifting off into dreamland, you thought to yourself that the soft sound of the rain against the shuttered windows of the inn was the most peaceful sound you had ever heard.

I think I let the religious trauma go a little too wild with this one, whoops.

***

like what you read? here's more!

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empthy1 · 10 days ago

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mourning friends

once morning friends, now mourning friends. two broken hearts they seek to mend. one knew before what was set in stone, but left their twin to break, all alone. —kiera.

tw: emetophobia.

shitty poetry aside: brief best friend sequel ft. patrick zweig. came to me from one of diya's posts, so i guess this is full circle. pattashi. pre-art, post-injury, post-coco. apologies, awkward patrick, tired tashi. disappointed that patrick of all people broke me out of my slump. written in about an hour, apologies for any mistakes. ~950 words.

Patrick was pathetic. At least he was self-aware enough to realize that.

(Suck it, dad, he huffs silently.)

He's sat in his fine-ass hotel room, high from the girl who just left barely even waning and fluids still sticky-stuck to his thighs. But no. He doesn't think of the girl, the total bombshell he'd snagged (curls, brown, deep brown—) at his own victory party (didn't even go into the third set, thank you very much—) no. His eyes are glued to the screen of his shitty, cracked flip-phone, staring at the renamed contact and thinking about calling his ex. He's not even drunk.

DO NOT CALL, MORON. EVEN IF YOU'RE DRUNK. (ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE DRUNK.)

...so maybe he went a little overboard. But there had been multiple incidents leading up to the change. One involving one-too many beers and an eager girl. It didn't even matter that it went to voicemail, he'd still sent it (the sound of the girl smacking him and all.) He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been blocked already, but he had, somehow, snagged some news through the grapevine. If it was true, than... just shit. Everything's shit.

The rings echo in the room, a crush-like curl in his gut—if a horrific amalgamation of it. Calling your ex isn't easy. Especially one you've been tormenting. But he does it anyway, punching the green button with a shaky thumb. He flops back onto the—ew—still gross sheets and tugs the phone up to his ear.

"...Pat. What are you calling about now." Comes an overly-hoarse voice. It's almost unrecognizable—but it's her. He's sure of it. She sounds terrible, but he's not narcissistic enough to assume it's all because of him. He's probably a far twenty on her list at this point.

"I... someone said something about Coco. I wanted to hear it from you."

His words make her inhale shakily, the sound crackily through the phone. Or maybe that's just how her voice was, he can't tell anymore. All he knows is she sounds two seconds from hyperventilating.

He doesn't say a thing. She would have hung up if she did. Any and all attempts before, when he was more than just a heartbreak, were rebuffed as well. I'm not a crybaby, Patrick. Just leave it. She'd huff and puff, as if she wasn't shaking like an autumn leaf with eyes so glossy he could see his own reflection. But he'd left it. And left it. And left it again. Though, in hindsight, it seems even being silent wouldn't stop her from lashing him.

"...she's gone. Cancer. All in her bones and lungs and... everywhere else. Should've fuckin' known, pushed for more when she broke her pelvis—"

Tashi's sobbed rant fades as he recalls, unwillingly, that day. Could he have done something?

He remembered the day she'd told him that—that Coco had jumped from the cat tree, as usual, and fractured her hip. She was an older cat, sure, but she wasn't geriatric. Unusual, but, they couldn't see anything wrong with her. Patrick had actually gone with Tashi on that vet visit. He'd held the unnaturally tired kitty in his hands—must be the sedative—and pet under a weakly purring chin.

And then Coco had opened her sleepy eyes and he almost cried there and then. The look was a familiar one, even if the amber color and the slitted pupils weren't the same. His uncle had the same one.

His uncle who'd died months ago, malignant, speedy cancer wrecking his body. That tired, exhausted look—he'd seen it. Knew it, almost like a second skin.

He had plenty of older relatives. Old age and dementia claimed grandparents and great aunts and far cousins, leaving nothing more than a whisp of memory—if they got that.

But cancer's a different look. A frightful one, but only if you know where to look.

Clearly this vet, fresh as a summer sprig of curling fiddlefern, didn't yet know it. Didn't even think to test.

He didn't know why he stayed silent that day. Why he didn't demand the test, put it on his card and stay there hours, days, racking up bills he didn't care about and eating vending machine candy for sustenance. He can see it clearly, now, so far in the future—he would have done it for that little bugger.

But he didn't.

No going back now. Not when she's... gone. Just as he thought she'd be.

"Tash..." If he couldn't save her now, she'd at least deserve to know. What possessed him to confess he didn't know. He could have schmoozed through the grief, charming and curling close, cooing a sympathetic do you want to talk about it? In person, I mean?

The thought almost makes him throw up. Bile fills his mouth unexpectedly, causing him to sputter.

"What? What, Pat, is so important?"

"...I knew she was dying that day we took her to the vet. For her pelvis."

There's... nothing. Just silence on the other end of the phone. And then a frustrating dial tone, the sound too-loud and obtrusive, his phone too close to his ear. He wrenches it away, flips it closed, and sighs. Both at the conversation's unsatisfactory end and the sticky coating him, now going frigid, the slick long-cold.

...Fuck. He's got to shower.

Game tomarrow! His coach's excited message rings, lighting his screen bright. He can almost hear the lilting, German-tinged exclamation, all down to the mispronunciation coming through in text.

It makes him want to sink into the shower tile. He slumps against the white, cold things, water rushing over his front. He lets his head tip up and dreams of drowning himself in the warm stream.

#kiera's fics ₊˚⊹ ࿔#patrick zweig #tashi duncan #patashi #challengers

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shrillvoices · 2 months ago

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Mudd poetry inspired by my best mutual @doctorwyvern <3 (Inspiration; 1 2 3 )

Spoilers for Mudd's arc (and some awful first time poetry lmao)

He looks real,

He feels real,

He talks just as I remember-

How could this be fake?

How could I simply be imagining things?

Is my mind truly that cruel?

How could this part of my life,

This piece of my world,

This precious person,

Simply be a lie?

What is there to gain?

My wilting soul twists,

My troubled thoughts race.

My own mind turned against me-

A roaring animal

Towering over me

Taunting me with dull eyes,

And pretend feelings.

Claws digging into my soul,

Plucking my heartstrings out of my chest,

As if they were delicate flower petals.

Questions line my tattered thoughts

Guarded walls,

choking me with crumbling stone and chalk clouded air.

Am I real?

How do I know who to trust anymore?

Maybe this is all just one big game,

A prank played on me?

There's a chance,

It's fake,

Just as there's

A chance

It's real.

My hands,

My ears,

My nose,

My eyes,

They all feel real,

Feel like me.

Theres a chance, i think,

An anxious beast in my brain

Telling me that my body is fake.

That I'll wake up

And never have existed.

Is this how he feels?

Stuck between the nothingness of imagination

And an endless worry?

Would moving on be too cruel?

Give up his name and forsake his memory?

Should I wipe his tangerine fur

And bright amber eyes

From my mind?

My memory?

Should I truly forget?

Let go?

Would he be hurt,

If he was here?

Watching me lay

Staring at the ceiling,

Real and alive?

#Nervous to post this actually #im shaking rn #feedback is appreciated #wanted actually #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #stinkydragonpod #not art #kinda?#mudd #mudd bramblecrack #mudd tftsd #clay bramblecrack #clay tftsd #poetry #shrillfics

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wifeofsnowbaird · 1 year ago

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You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now

I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/rest on Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, thg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

The list of dead tributes caught Sejanus’ eye. Of course, he had sat down in front of his television to see if the Baird sisters were there but it wouldn't hurt to look once more.

His amber eyes analyzed the rough paper stuck to the fountain, Tributes from 1, 2, and 6, were dead. [Name] Lily was the Tribute who survived from District 9, Sejanus was sure that when Coriolanus had heard that a Tribute from 9 had died he’d probably gotten a heart attack.

But if anything this is what that fucking deranged manic, Dr.Gaul, wanted.

Quickly killing multiple Tributes and letting one escape was her MO.

When Sejanus had gotten home, he proceeded to grab meatloaf sandwiches from his Ma that she’d made to give to Coryo before heading out again to visit the Hospital for the Capital people injured during the Arena Bombing. Ma asked why he was heading out again.

“Oh you know, Ma. I’m going to the Hospital to visit Coriolanus.”

She rolled her eyes before extending her arm to wave him away. “ You’re growing up to be just like your Pa, but don’t forget Coriolanus’ book bag, didn’t you grab it once you heard he was injured?”

Sejanus widened his eyes. He’d completely forgotten about the book bag! “ Ah, thanks Ma!” He waved before jogging down the stone steps.

It was dark when Coriolanus finally was awoken after Sejanus’ visit. He had assumed it was a nurse but the ravaged face of Clemensia Dovecote. Once she screamed, the nurses picked her up to lock her in her room.

But it cursed his mind, and he could never forget her screams of anger and anguish until he died by an angry, cold, person he made in his image. Because he wouldn’t die without knowing that his wrath and revenge could be continued.

A week later, Coriolanus had walked up to you and said those exact words, searching for your distant comfort in place of his cousin or Grandma’am.

You gently hugged him as he slowly buried his head into your neck, thinking of what he’d meant.

‘ Oh, Katniss Everdeen, maybe you became President Snow while fighting against him…’

Hi! sorry for the short post today!

-wifeofsnowbaird

[if you wanna know who made the banners I tagged her on this series' masterlist and my pinned post and reblogged one of her posts!]

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ireadwithmyears · 2 months ago

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A Happy Medium (Part 1): Not Enough

Pairing: Tech/fem reader

next part

Word count: 1.9 k (I know, I didn’t think I was capable of writing something this short either)😂

Tags/warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), smut, referenced oral sex (F receiving), discussion of and working through clitoral hypersensitivity, thigh riding

Summary: When your body betrays you in the heat of a moment that is supposed to be enjoyable, you are frustrated. But Tech, being Tech, finds a way to adapt.

Authors note: If you know me, you know that I love Tech. I love him so much and he is wonderful. But if you know me, then you also know that I am very picky when it comes to his characterization, and when it comes to writing him, this has become quite the tricky spot for me, as I’m not totally confident in my abilities to do so authentically. I also, in a completely different vein, wanted to explore a topic that isn’t discussed nearly enough, in my humble opinion. And that is the trials and tribulations of having a female body that doesn’t always make intimacy with others easy due to its own, shall we say, special quirks? So I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone. Because the only way to get better at doing something that makes you uncomfortable, unfortunately, is to keep doing it, and, simply because I thought he would be an excellent partner to work with when it comes to exploring this particular topic, here we are, and I hope you enjoy it. This is to be a three-part miniseries, and it is by no means romantic, perfect candlelit smut handed to you on a tray. It’s explorative, it can be awkward at times and it’s real, and my hope is that some people will be able to resonate with that.

“You may proceed.”

The unfazed, almost nonchalant way in which he says it makes your cheeks heat with a blush. You duck your head attempting to hide it, not wanting to catch the attention of the amber orbs behind his goggles, because this is embarrassing.

It doesn’t matter that he had tried to reassure you of otherwise, even going to the length of pulling up factually backed-up statistics and numbers to demonstrate that this was, in fact, not just a you-problem and that, all in all, it was a quite common and perfectly normal barrier to encounter.

If it was so common, you had thought to yourself with a twist of bitterness that you couldn’t entirely conceal, then why did no one talk about it?

Why did no one tell you that oral sex, which seemed to be coveted as this wonderful, otherworldly experience, instead felt...kind of awful?

Okay, maybe that was overkill. But in all honesty, the first drag of Tech’s tongue across your clit had felt like fire, your entire body going rigid and your breath catching in your throat. You thought you had just been surprised, and decided that maybe if you just stuck it out a bit longer, the sensation would melt into something enjoyable.

But it didn’t.

You had remained frozen, stuck in the limbo between fight or flight as the all-encompassing, almost to the point of being painful, sensations continued to build. And then his lips, gentle and curious, had enclosed around the small nub, and before you knew it, you were flinching away, crying out that it was too much and that you couldn’t as you frantically tried to close your legs.

That had begun much more tentative trial and error experimenting, with Tech peppering you with a series of bluntly forward and to the point questions that had made you blush so hard as you answered that you were sorely tempted to hide your face against the pillows.

He had determined, after you had haltingly explained how, when you were getting yourself off, you usually found it easier to move against something, that a change of position and technique was in order.

“You have come to the reasonable conclusion that, due to your sensitivities, it is much more effective for you to be able to maintain and control how much pressure, and how broad and or focussed the stimulation you receive is,” he had stated, fingers lightly tapping against his knee in thought.

You had nodded, because yes? Maybe you hadn’t thought about it so deeply, and only really saw your solution as a means to an end rather than a well-thought out and perfectly logical solution, but yeah—what he had described was such an on-the-nose reflection of your experience that it was easy for you to go along with whatever his line of thought was leading to.

His line of thought, however, had taken you by more than slight surprise and had found you with his expectant gaze looking down at you while your legs straddled one of his broad thighs. You were rendered completely incapable of doing anything but perching there, frozen and unsure, despite knowing in the back of your head what you were expected to do next.

“Tech,” you mutter, your cheeks still heated and unable to tear your eyes away from how your legs rest on either side of his thigh, “I can’t.”

His fingers are light beneath your chin but insistent as he tilts it upward, quirking an eyebrow as he looks down at you. You swear the way his thigh muscles tense and flex slightly beneath you is deliberate. “I think you can,” he counters, and there’s both a slight edge of challenge and a gentler underlying encouragement laced within his tone.

Here you are, perched in his lap and completely bare. Meanwhile, he’s still wearing his blacks, and the heated, slightly rough material dragging against your folds as he presses it up against you has you shivering, your head tilting back.

“Show me,” he tells you, his voice a low command against your ear as he slowly rocks his thigh against you, the material of his blacks catching so deliciously against your clit that you think you might whimper softly. “Show me how you make yourself come.”

“B-but I can’t when you’re just watching me like this,” you say, your voice strained. Despite your protest, you’re tentatively beginning to move your hips, slow and exploring as you try to find what feels good.

“Oh, I can assure you that I will be doing more than simply watching,” Tech murmurs, and before you know it, his face is buried against your neck, the feeling of his breaths causing you to shudder, and his lips, warm as they trace a path upward towards the shell of your ear, where he languidly drags his tongue, make you let out a rather undignified whine.

“Did you know,” he muses conversationally, his voice barely above a whisper, “that the ears are one of the most sensitive erogenous zones on the body?”

“I-is right now really the time for infodumping?” you ask, hands reaching out to grip onto his shoulders, attempting to steady yourself as your hips continue to move, the strong, taut muscles of his thigh firm and heated as they press against your core.

“Mm,” he hums low, a soft exhalation of breath before his lips suddenly close around your earlobe, lightly tugging it as he runs it between his teeth, the result of which seeming to send a jolt of heat straight between your legs, your thighs squeezing around his legs and the careful rhythm you had been building with the slow circles of your hips stuttering in response. “I believe that information to be pertinent, as yours particularly seem to elicit a favorable response to stimulation.”

You don’t have to look at him to see the shit-eating smirk that’s pulling at the corners of his lips. Not that—with the heated, firm expanse of his thigh dragging against your folds and surrounding your clit with a warm, pleasantly building pleasure—you could really bring yourself to care at this point.

“There are others,” he continues, seemingly unfazed by your quickening breaths or the tight grip you have on his shoulders as you rock your hips with growing speed against his thigh. “I believe it was right here...”

His lips return to a particularly tender spot on the side of your neck, tongue fluttering over the rapidly beating pulse point beneath, listening to the stammered whimper you let out in response.

“Mm,” he hums against your skin, teeth lightly grazing over the spot. “That’s the one.”

You can’t help the soft moan that falls from your lips, your hips continuing to squirm as you now desperately attempt to chase the high that is taking its sweet time sneaking up on you.

“I quite enjoy how responsive you are to this particular area, but I wonder...”

Tech’s gaze is shameless as he drags his eyes along your form, observing with pleasure your head tilted back with your cheeks flushed, your eyes fluttered shut. They linger on your chest, his lips parting.

“The nipples can also be an extremely erogenous zone for some,” he murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts move as you continue to circle your hips. “What I find that I am particularly enjoying about having you in this position is how they are at the perfect height for me to look at as you pleasure yourself.”

He reaches up, his hand warm and large as it lightly cups one of your breasts, thumb slow and teasing as it drags along the underside, coaxing your nipple to harden. He experimentally rolls the pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger, and at the stuttered gasp of pleasure he gets in response, he gives it a gentle tweak, softly pulling until you moan.

He leans forward, cupping the other in his hand and blowing out a cool breath against your skin. He leaves a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses that surround the swell of your breast, tongue lightly swirling over your areola before, with a gentle suck, he takes your hardening nipple into his mouth, combining slow, coaxing drags of his tongue and quick, light flicks against it until he feels it fully stand at attention, letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

“I do not wish to neglect other erogenous areas,” Tech continues, and you have to wonder if he knows how thoroughly he’s made a mess of you, your mind engulfed by a thick, pleasure-filled haze that only grows thicker with every touch, every increasingly desperate rock of your hips against him.

“The lower back, notably, is quite the vulnerable area when it comes to being touched,” he whispers, fingernails lightly dragging down your spine. “But I have no intention of neglecting this.”

His hand descends further, lightly caressing over the curve of your ass, before squeezing more firmly, roughly kneading it until you moan, your thighs clenching around his.

“T-Tech,” you whimper, arching and growing more frantic in your movements. “I need, I need more.”

He hums, adjusting to press his thigh more roughly against your pussy, lightly rocking it so that it drags with more pressure against your clit. You whine, your head tipping back, and Tech smirks, taking the opportunity to lean forward and trail his lips towards your ear.

“I can feel how wet you are against me,” he murmurs low against your ear, and you blush, suddenly very aware of the wet trail that clings to the material of his blacks. “Does this feel good?” he asks, his hand back to toying with one of your nipples.

“Yes,” you whine, your cheeks flushed and your head thrown back. “Fuck, yes it does.”

“Then why don’t you show me how good it feels and come?” he asks, voice rough against your ear.

You whimper, his words being the final nudge that pushes you over the edge, your hips feverish as they roll against his thigh.

Your own thighs have locked around his. You’re only able to focus on the white hot, searing pleasure that throbs through your pussy in long, lingering pulses, until you’re left gasping and clinging to Tech for dear life, tipped forward and slumped against him.

In the silence that follows, you breathe, listening to Tech’s own soft breaths, feeling his gaze, heavy and wanting, fixated on you as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Well,” Tech comments, his voice quiet as his arms settle around you lightly. “I believe that was effective.”

“It was,” you agree, nodding your head, hesitating before continuing. “But I don’t want that to be the only way you can get me off.”

It was nice, there’s no denying that. Far more pleasurable than grinding against your hand or rubbing yourself against a pillow. But it’s still a lot of work for your hips, and perhaps you’re being a little bit greedy for thinking so, but you still want more.

“Of course not,” he murmurs in agreement, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I believe I can learn from my prior missteps and adapt to your sensitivities when delivering oral stimulation, if you would be agreeable to trying it again.”

You hum, nodding your head and looking up at him, a mix of trust and curiosity in your eyes as you study his features.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.”

Thank you to @moosgraphics for these amazing bad batch themed dividers. And thank you all for reading. If you enjoyed, please consider dropping a reblog. It would be so appreciated.🙏

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech #tech bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars #fanfiction #clone trooper tech #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars smut #Ireadwithmyears fics

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