#third time's the charm i guess SOBS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inquisitornocturn · 2 months ago

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◇─ 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖎 𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖒𝖆 𝖒𝖊 ─◇

⚜ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Abelard Werserian x Rogue Trader!reader

⚜ 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: we fuck old men in this house lol, comfort, fluff, so much fluff (by my standard), guess what consent can be sexy, smut, body worship, cunnilingus, PiV, creampie, even more fluff at the end

⚜ 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: So much has changed since you have taken the title of a Rogue Trader and the worries just don't seem to stop. Day after day something keeps happening. More casualties, more damages, more things to do before your dynasty falls apart at the seams. And one person who you hope can comprehend the pressure you're under, do not seem to understand that you could use just one moment of reprieve. Until you make him understand.

⚜ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 7,740 | on AO3

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: okay, full disclosure, i don't know how the first fic i'm posting for this fandom is Abelard and not Xavier or even Heinrix. he is in my top three for sure, but i fully expected myself posting something for the other two before Abelard and yet this is very much happening. i will reiterate my tags by saying - we fuck old men in this house and that's on that. on a side note - i have been also horribly enabled by @liocreates and @nananarc. Emperor sees that not only my flesh but also my mind is weak, so here we are, i am officially stepping into the fandom with probably the sweetest smut i have ever written. enjoy♡~

“Lord Captain.” Abelard’s voice punches through the cloud of your thoughts that seem almost physical in how much they fog your head.

No, not right now, you don’t want to hear whatever it is he wants to tell you.

Your trusted Seneschal, your most experienced advisor, your right hand man who became such within mere weeks of you taking the title of a Rogue Trader, however abruptly it have come to you. Too many things, too many loses, too many tasks need to be accomplished before your bloody inheritance of a voidship falls apart. Again.

Supplies, crew, the vessel needs repairs. If it can even last that long, until your spacecraft arrives at Footfall dock after you battled some xenos when defending one of the worlds that now belong to you, and even then – if she can survive the journey itself. And then there’s Kunrad and his betrayal that still are causing ripple-like effect over everything, and your aforementioned abrupt claim of a title, with mutinies simmering just at the surface line, tethering the edge of begrudging obedience and outright treason. All because Theodora was killed and you took up the mantle.

“Lord Captain.”

Abelard calls again and you clamp your palms to your ears, not wanting to hear it. You had your eyes closed since the moment first officer entered your study and found you behind your desk, piles of reports and several dataslates towering with their mountainous workloads. Two cups of recaf, neither of them warm or finished, balancing the edge of a desk and a servo skull that slowly but ceaselessly keeps printing a strip of parchment, the needle-like pen etching tiny black words in every possible centimeter of the white canvas.

Footsteps, and you lower your head, shaking your head slightly.

“Not now, Abelard. Please.” You say in a strained tone and footsteps stop, a second pass, then they resume. “Abelard, please.” Last word comes out nearly as a choked sob as you battle your exhaustion, your anxiety and your overwhelming desire to shut yourself in an airlock and have a servitor press the release button.

You can’t cope, not anymore. There hasn’t been a moment of peace ever since damned Voigtvir treason made your entire world turn upside down twice over.

“Lord Captain.” Third time’s the charm they say, but not tonight. Even though Abelard’s tone sounds softer, he’s no more successful in making you look at him than previous two times.

Having nothing else to say you just shake your head again in a silent plea for him to walk away and give you a moment, an evening, of reprieve from things constantly going wrong. This can’t be life of a Rogue Trader, can it? You heard of luxuries and parties, of admiration and battles, of claiming planets and bringing Emperor’s light upon the corners of the galaxy. This – is the farthest thing from stories that you have heard before Theodora got you brought to this ship.

More footsteps, this time to the side, and you hear glass clinking, liquid pouring, more glass sounds, then more footsteps and then – a hand on your shoulder than makes you flinch ever so slightly. Startled and with your heart beating much faster now, you rise your head and lower your hands, looking at Abelard who is standing by your side with a soft look in his eyes and a half-filled glass in his ring-adorned fingers.

“A drink might be in order, Lord Captain?” More of a question rather than him insisting you take the offering, but you do so gladly, your fingers brushing against Abelard’s when you take the glass, making you turn your eyes away.

What you wouldn’t do to have a warm embrace right now. It makes you ache in a way that you even miss your previous partner, who you dumped when he decided that joining Adeptus Mechanicus was his life calling. All of a sudden, just like that. And truth to be told, maybe it was he who dumped you and made up a lie so that you don’t feel as bad as you possibly could.

Still, in this moment, the loneliness of your life weights heavy on you. Too powerful for a casual chitchat, too respected to share a drink with, too blessed by the God-Emperor for a simple hug. Unless you order someone, but you find little comfort in seeking human contact in such way. Very little indeed, so that even this small touch with the man who you trust with your life is making you yearn for something more, a moment of peace that you know won’t happen.

“Thank you, Abelard.” Is all you murmur in response and the senior officer nods, making a step aside, but observing you keenly, watching you take a first tentative sip, then another, and a third that you swallow with a brief closing of your eyes.

“You seem exhausted, Lord Captain.” This time it’s a fact that is spoken out loud and you manage a crooked smile when you gaze up at the man.

“You think so?” You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice and Abelard’s eyebrows furrow slightly, then he scoffs and clears his throat.

“That’s quite obvious, Your Ladyship. Maybe you should get some rest.”

“Maybe I should, but…” You trail off and your gaze sweeps over the piles of reports, the same dataslates, two of which are silently blinking with unread messages like vile daemons winking at you in an attempt of foul seduction. You even make an effort to give a pointed look to the servoskull, still printing the strip of paper that has already accumulated a nice pile underneath it on the carpet.

“You have your officers, let us help you.” Abelard sounds positively serious and steps back to your side, reaching for the nearest winking eye of the dataslate, rings on his fingers glimmering in a soft light of illumination in the room, but your own hand darts out almost on reflex and grabs his wrist.

“It’s fine, I just need a moment to catch my breath and I can continue.” As you speak you feel Seneschal’s pulse under your fingers, thrumming in a slow, relaxed rhythm.

Abelard pauses, giving you a look of poorly disguised concern and he heaves a sigh.

“Generally, I would appreciate stubbornness in Lord Captain’s attitude, but you are going to run yourself haggard if you don’t allocate your duties, at least partially, to those serving you.” He doesn’t pull his hand away and in this moment you are grateful for it. Not only for the warmth of Abelard’s skin in your grip, but for another small contact with a human being.

Whether he already caught on that you yearn for it or not, is impossible to tell and you prefer if he didn’t know. You don’t want him to pity you even more, even if you might deserve it with how you are currently feeling.

“I will, just… not tonight. I will finish what I have to do and tomorrow I shall see what can be done.” Offering a small smile you finally let go of the Seneschal’s wrist and he remains quiet for a second, then sighs again and leans over the desk, flipping the blinking slates so that their screens stop flashing.

“You need a good night’s sleep, Your Ladyship, not more duties to keep you up until the late hours.” Undercurrent of softness in Abelard’s voice does not elude you and corners of your mouth twitch ever so slightly.

“Maybe not, but I worry that the vessel…” You can’t finish the sentence and you don’t need to, Abelard knows the situation after the space battle as well as you do. “I will sleep better when we manage to arrive at Footfall.”

“And we will.” Firmness in Abelard’s tone catches you by surprise and you look at him again only for your eyes to meet his. “Lord Captain, while I would be the first to tell that a healthy dose of paranoia is needed and even necessary for a Rogue Trader, I have to remind that you also need to think about your wellbeing. Millions of people depend on you and none of your subjects wish you to fall ill with worry or stress.”

“You sound worried yourself.” You manage another crooked smile but Abelard’s stern eye remains affixed on you with an unwavering look.

“I am. For you.”

The ancient chrono by your personal cogitator is the only one making sounds as you both look at each other and you finally give in, buckling under the intense gaze of a Seneschal’s grey eye. Your shoulders slump a little and you look at your glass, then sigh in capitulation.

“Very well. If you so wish for me to take a step back, then share a drink with me. I could use some company.”

Before Abelard has a chance to object or try to find a way to remain his usual stoic self, you stand, your massive chair slipping easily over the floor and forcing the Seneschal to step backwards from you.

“Lord Captain-“

“No lord captains, Abelard.” After a brief pause you add with defeat and resignation. “This is an order.”

There’s no mistaking the solemn tone in your voice as you issue your command and Abelard hesitates, but you do see him give you a curt nod with a corner of your eye while you walk around the desk to the right where a big, wooden couch is pushed against a wall, only a column separating it and the chrono.

When you approach the near ancient furniture piece, noticing that the padding has been replaced recently (most likely to remove Mort’s blood that was splattered on it on the night Theodora died), you sit, realizing that until now you haven’t done it. Couple weeks passed with so much happening that a simple act of sitting on a couch in your own study didn’t even occur to you. Not that you had any reason to do so until now.

Sounds of the decanter reach you when Abelard pours himself a drink and he makes an effort to look in your direction. It’s not hard to decipher his inquisitory glance and you nod, watching the Seneschal carry the crystal pitcher towards you and refill your glass.

“Thank you.”

Gratefully you look down at the pale amber liquid and take a sip while Abelard walks back to reinstate the decanter back to its rightful spot and then return to you, hesitating for a long moment until he finally sits down, with respectable and polite distance between you two. It makes your heart sink, but you try not to show it and just lift your glass to the first officer and smile.

“Don’t look so sour, it’s just one drink. Cheers.”

“I’m not displeased, Lord Captain, just worried for your wellbeing.” Abelard responds and watches you keenly when you drink at the same time he does. “You need to rest instead of staying up, drinking.”

“For a man your age, I hoped that you can understand a need for some company.” You raise an eyebrow at him and Abelard looks like he’s about to argue with you, but then lets out an exhausted sigh and finally offers you a small smile of his own.

“That I do, Lord Captain. Although I’m sure you could find better company for a casual conversation other than me.”

“And who you would suggest then?” Your smile widens and you watch with delight as Abelard’s composure wavers in light of you pushing back against his self-deprecating sentiment.

“Well, you can ask anyone aboard to share a drink with you.” He says with a degree of hesitation and your smile becomes bitter on your lips.

“You mean I can order them and they won’t be able to refuse.”

“Those willing to refuse a Rogue Trader would be, pardon my language, idiots, Lord Captain.”

“But I don’t want to order people to have a drink or a chat with me, Abelard. Even if I had… to order you.” A smile on your face fades as it was never there to begin with and you sigh, your shoulders slumping once again and you look at the glass in your hand, swirling the liquid briefly.

The weight of reality is just too much for you right now. You used to have friends before this, comrades, people who joked with you and didn’t need to be commanded with a threat of execution looming above them if they even thought of refusing you. Where’s that camaraderie that you miss so much right now? You don’t know if you will experience the joy of having friends and allies like you had in the past. You knew that with power and duty - loneliness comes as well, you just couldn’t guess how all-encompassing that loneliness can get and how quickly it will get to you.

Now you know.

You don’t notice how long the silence lasts, but a quiet shuffle finally draws your attention and before you even see it, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Abelard slid across the couch a little closer so that he reaches you and offers you one compassionate gesture that he comfortably allows himself.

First you look at his hand, marred with scars from countless battles while serving the Imperial Navy and then Lady Theodora, before you look at his face again, noticing expressed worry in his features.

“Lord Captain…” He begins, hesitating and picking his words carefully, then gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze while warmth of his palm begins to seep through your clothes already. “Feeling a tad… isolated as a Rogue Trader is not an uncommon sentiment.” Abelard’s voice is even, steady, like bedrock. “But you will find allies worth sharing your private moments with. You found yourself in this new life quite recently. It is difficult right now, it’s just the beginning, I understand, but don’t let it get to you, Lord Captain. In due time you will have a network of worthy allies and trusted friends.”

“Are you not one of them?” You can’t help but ask, and wonder if your eyes betray just how hopefully you voiced your inquiry.

Abelard does see, clear as day and he sighs, smiling to you.

“Of course I am, but I’m your officer, your Seneschal. In the end – I am just your loyal servant, Lord Captain, and you deserve people who are your equals.”

You blink few times in surprise and swallow dryly, bringing the glass to your lips to wet your throat.

“You don’t think we’re equals?”

At this Abelard part laughs, part scoffs as if with humorous disbelief.

“I am but a soldier, Lord Captain, and you are a head of the von Valancius dynasty. There’s oceans of difference in rank between you and me.” Then after a pause, he gives your shoulder another comforting squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean that I do not enjoy serving Her Ladyship, even if that means sharing a drink during a late night.” Softness in Abelard’s voice makes you look at him again and you take another sip from your glass while your eyes search his for the truth. Does he say this because he means it or out of duty that you haven’t seen waver even once since you came aboard this spacecraft?

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” You admit and feel Abelard withdraw his hand. Again you capture his wrist and nearly let go immediately, but refuse your instinct of propriety take over, holding onto it like it’s a fragile lifeline keeping you from sinking into the waters of solace.

“I know what you meant, Lord Captain.” Abelard sighs, somehow not surprised that you are holding onto him again, but you should’ve suspected that a man of his long life and even greater experience would notice what’s amiss faster than you were willing to show. “But I don’t want you to look for camaraderie in your subjects, you will find men and women more worthy of your time than your servants.”

No, he doesn’t understand and a feeling akin to desperation grips you. You have to make him understand so you squeeze his wrist firmer and lean in his direction, making a point of holding eye contact even before you start speaking.

“You are my equal, Abelard. To me – you’re not just my servant. You’re my most trusted ally, you’re my Seneschal, you are… the only friend I have aboard this ship, or maybe in the entire galaxy.” Something begins to choke you as you finish and turning your eyes away you let go of his wrist, feeling that you just overstepped an invisible line. “Apologies.” You whisper and empty your glass, unable to look at Abelard in this moment.

You hear the man let out a heavy sigh and he too drinks some more, unsure of what to say. Seconds pass, then maybe a minute, with increasingly uncomfortable silence mounting while neither of you speak.

“I think I better return to those reports. And I promise to look into what tasks I can delegate to others tomorrow.” A smile, forced one, makes its way onto your face and you stand, but don’t get to fully finish your movement because Abelard’s grip prevents you from doing so, his fingers wrapping firmly around your own wrist this time.

You plop down onto the couch and look at him with mild worry and curiosity, even some reluctance because you don’t want to hear he might possibly want to say. Something about that you shouldn’t think of him as a friend, maybe that you shouldn’t be so trusting, but no, the Seneschal just looks slightly sad, like indeed he is pitying you.

“You may feel lonely, but you are not alone.” Abelard says quietly and that mysterious, but very overwhelming sensation of choking returns. You swallow once or twice, trying to push the ball of emotion beginning to strangle you. “I am honored to keep you company in your moments of need or those of celebration, but one day you will find your people, not those who have sworn to serve you or to protect you because of your elevated station, you will-“

You don’t want to listen to this anymore, sugary words and promises of things to come when you’re aching now. So you do something brave.

Brave and very very stupid.

Letting your empty glass drop onto the metal grate at your feet, but ignoring the sound of shattering crystal, you move forward and throw yourself against Abelard, wrapping your arms around him in a hug that leaves no room for you to disguise how much your entire body is shaking. You press your face to the cold steel plate of Seneschal’s armor and close your eyes so tightly, like you want to prevent them from ever opening again.

“Lord Captain!” Senior officer exclaims and stiffens in your embrace but when you don’t move you hear him sigh and place his glass somewhere to the side. “Lord Captain… This is very inappropriate.” He murmurs and yet after a moment of vacillation, when his duty versus his desire to comfort you battle, he at last slowly puts his arms around you as well.

You don’t respond, don’t want to and don’t need to. You just sit still, with your body against his and smell everything that is Abelard: a musk of his masculine perfume, faint scent of oil from his trusty chainsword, even fainter smell of his bathing products. He smells clean, strong and strangely reassuring. A scent of a hard working, loyal man in your retinue. It makes you feel safe and protected, even more compared to when the Seneschal stands by your side with his sword raised and a pistol aimed at anyone who wishes you harm.

“Do you feel any better, Lord Captain?” He asks after a long, wonderful moment passes and you breathe easier, smiling even if he cannot see it at the angle your head is pressed against his chest. It’s a genuine smile, relaxed one, the kind of smile you have near forgot how to smile with.

“Yes, thank you.” You whisper and Abelard lets out a relieved sigh, then strokes your back with one palm so caringly that you begin to crave for this hug to last forever.

But there’s more. You want more than this, you want to forget yourself or your new life even just for a moment longer, something that haven’t happened even once since that day when Kunrad’s betrayal shook the entire dynasty to its core. And you forget yourself.

You forget and you yearn.

When you lift your face to Abelard you see a comforting smile on his features, making his scarred face look even more handsome than usual. Before you can think better, before you can stop yourself, before you can even realize that what you’re doing is now truly stepping over any and all appropriate boundaries between a Rogue Trader and her Seneschal, you straighten your back and press your chest to Abelard’s, pushing him against the backrest of the couch. When his eyes widen in attempt to comprehend what are you doing, your face levels with his and your gaze betrays your intentions so clearly that the man has a hard time processing the sudden change.

“Lord Captain, what is…” Abelard trails off when you lean closely to him, so close that you sense his breath fawn over your skin and man’s arms around you flex for a moment as if unable to decide if to pull you off or draw you closer.

“Please, just this… one… thing…” You hear yourself speak in a whisper so quiet it’s barely voiced at all and you can’t stop yourself, your overwhelming need for more just takes complete control. With your hands steadying you with a grip on his sides, you lean to Abelard, closing whatever is left of the distance between you and him, and press your lips against his.

Even the chrono seems to stop counting seconds and you feel Abelard freeze in spot, his fingers twitching briefly while they are still on your back, then you pull away slightly and look at him from under your eyelashes. Has he always been so alluring? The cornerstone of your new life from the moment you stepped into your shiny, novel role. Why you haven’t seen Abelard for what a man he is until now?

But now that you have, you are unsure if you can stop yourself with just stealing a kiss, and how your Seneschal blushes, ever so slightly, how his eye is wide with disbelief at what you just did, how his lips, slightly glistening from being pressed to yours, quiver just before he speaks… yes, you want even more than just this and your body responds to your mind’s desire, lighting a flame within you that can only be quenched one way and one way only.

“Lord Captain, this is way out of the line of appropriate conduct! You absolutely cannot do this!” Abelard speaks and his voice does sound offended, yet his eyes glance to your lips and he doesn’t move to push you off.

“Do you not want me to do this?” You ask with a small smile, confident that he won’t refuse you, that you can break this man’s impeccable bearing and experience, just to see what kind of fire roars behind the closed gates of his perfect conduct.

“It’s now about one’s wishes, Lord Captain, and you very well know this. This is an utterly improper behavior for a Lady of your status and as my direct superior!” And yet he still doesn’t dare pushing you off, only glances down when you rise one hand, caressing downwards his breastplate, then find the buckle of the straps holding it together. Soft sound of metal as you undo the clasp fills the temporary silence and you bite your bottom lip briefly.

“Maybe I’d like to know your wishes, Abelard. Do they include more than just pure duty? I hope they do.” You whisper and lean closer, watching Seneschal’s face become a shade redder when your palm slides under the steel plate now that it has been loosened and stroke his chest through his coat.

“My… wishes?” For a second he’s caught up in your gaze which is clearly showing your desire and the man considers you for a moment longer while you feel his heart beating harder against his ribcage. His eyes sweep down your face, noticing your own soft blush and your parted lips, enchanting him like an invitation.

It’s been so long he felt this… wanted. This desired. This much needed, and Abelard tries to grapple with his self-control, reminding himself of duty, of honor, how utterly infelicitous it would be if he responded to your advances. And yet the stirrings in his loins and the beat of his heart makes him yearn in return. Maybe if he allowed himself just another little kiss. Maybe, he can stop before it gets completely out of hand. Clearly his Lord Captain is in need for consolation and the Seneschal is not sure if he has the heart to deny you.

“My wishes remain the same.” He finally speaks again, the fingers on your back twitch again ever so slightly and move as Abelard’s fingertips begin to trace your spine so slowly you wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t completely still. “I wish for your wellbeing, Lord Captain.” And yet, despite his words, there’s that undercurrent you have been hoping for – the one of poorly controlled desire.

A widower who might as well have forgotten how a woman’s touch feels like. Are you the first since his wife’s passing to show interest in a man like him? The answer doesn’t matter, because when you inhale, preparing to respond, to push his limits of self-control a little further, your command over the entire situation gets usurped in a way you have no wish to protest – Abelard kisses you after quickly craning his neck while his hand at the same time press against your back, pushing you against him.

Just a kiss, you both tell to yourselves, just a moment of weakness and desire for closeness. It doesn’t have to go further than that, lead to anything more than this, to break protocols of conduct or rank, and yet it grows… the passion.

You are lost in this reciprocated kiss, your lips parting and letting Abelard in to taste liquor on your tongue just as you can taste it on his and you press yourself against the officer even firmer, control slipping like sand through your fingers. Abelard is not immune either, because one hand moves from your spine to cradle the back of your head as he deepens the kiss even more, expertly making your own heart thunder in your chest with how much passion he’s pouring into this seemingly simple exchange. Your breath hitches and you gently push against the Seneschal’s chest, parting your lips in exchange for deep breaths that mingle with his own labored panting.

One last chance to stop before this gets completely out of control and you destroy it with your hand as if you’re wiping off a fog from a mirror by placing a palm on his crotch and feeling a needy hardness there, just as you wished for.

“Abelard…” You whisper, pouring all the unsaid words into the syllables of his name and the man responds by conquering your mouth with another deep kiss.

“My Lady…” He utters against your lips in turn and you hope with all hope that he doesn’t stop because you don’t know if you can return from this until you reach the very end.

There’s no risk of Abelard stopping now though, because when the kiss breaks again he stands, for a brief moments startling you that he indeed will walk off, maybe even without a word, just to preserve whatever dignity he imagines he needs to save on your behalf, but no, with a huff he kneels in front of you and places his palms on your thighs. With upturned face your Seneschal pauses as you try to catch your breath.

“Lord Captain… Forgive me.” He says in a quiet, almost reverent voice, but then slides his hands higher and begins to undo your coat. You watch him unfasten two buttons before you caress the side of his face, careful of the augmetic connections to his bionic eye.

“Don’t apologize. Unless you want to walk away.”

“No, I… I don’t. I just hope neither of us will regret it.” He mutters and you see a shadow of worry slip across his otherwise determined expression and you make him pause, lifting his face to you by the chin.

“I know I won’t.” You assure Abelard and he shows a small, but confident smirk to you.

“Then neither will I, Lord Captain.”

You lean lower and place a nearly innocuous kiss to his lips, wanting him to return to your side on the couch, but he has other ideas and Abelard lets the kiss break so that he can continue undoing your coat. Once that is done, your jacket follows and then, your shirt. You notice a slight tremble in the officer’s fingers as he works one button after another, but his face betrays eager anticipation rather than reluctance, so you don’t mention it, just watch Abelard’s expression as he finally parts the edges of fabric that hid you from him until this very moment.

A breath hitches in his throat and Abelard pauses, tracing fingertips over your stomach, higher, around your bra-clad breasts until he cups them fully with both palms.

“Holy Terra…” He whispers, making you smile with a satisfied and warm smile that he doesn’t see because Abelard is too focused on your body. Again, with just fingertips, he grazes the mounds of your breasts and hesitates, but only to make up his mind between diving in and peppering your skin with kisses or undoing your bra entirely.

He chooses the latter.

A brief glance to your face as if to assure himself that you still very much need him just as he needs you and Abelard moves his hands to the alleyway of your breasts where the clasp resides, hiding what little decorum you still have left. No words are spoken when he undoes the mechanism and carefully, like a worshiper handling a holy relic, he peels the thin layer of your bra. You hear him audibly inhale when your breasts, released from their lacy prison, rise with each of your breaths.

“By the Emperor’s grace…” Abelard whispers again, not able to help himself and without hesitation or a second of pause he leans in and presses his lips against your chest, to your collarbone, forcing you to lean backwards against the backrest of the couch and tip your head upwards.

You mutter his name like a quiet prayer and run your fingers through his short, grey hair, letting your eyelids close and his hands grip your waist like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he doesn’t hold onto you. Slowly, gently, his kisses a trail lower, back to the mounds of your breasts, giving attention to each equally all the while his trimmed beard leaves your skin tingling where it rubs against you. He whispers your name, so quietly it almost escapes your notice and you forget it completely when suddenly your right nipple is engulfed in the heat of Abelard’s mouth, accompanied by gentle sucking that increases when you respond with a soft mewl.

With fingers still clutching the Seneschal’s hair, you lower your chin to watch him lavish attention onto your breasts, not taking too long to move onto the second and elicit more soft moans out of you, especially after he tests your limits and pulls at the left one with his teeth before releasing it and making you squirm where you sit. A confident smile, one that you haven’t seen on your trusted advisor, appears on his face, in tandem with a look in his eye that tells you that all the titles and ranks are now forgotten until later notice.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers against your skin, leaving your saliva lathered nipples to cool in the room’s air while he leans down again, kissing between your breasts, and again traveling lower while with a firm grip he supports you just under your ribcage, pulling at your waist and making your back arch.

You don’t know what to say or even if you need to say anything at all, but you chew on your bottom lip in anticipation while Abelard takes his time to unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants. A glance up and your eyes meet, a shared desire reflected in them, then you finally let go of his hair to prop yourself and lift your hips for him to peel your pants down your legs. Just for a moment he halts, then drags your panties together with your trousers. Buckles of boots get less time spent on them and then you’re naked in front of him, with a heat pulsing between your pressed legs.

Still on his knees, Abelard gently takes an ankle of your right leg and leans down pressing a chaste kiss on top of it, then begins trailing more of them upwards, to your knee, then over your thigh, all while his hands slide upwards the sides of your legs, following his rise. After a moment his hands slip to your knees and Seneschal rises his eyes to you, pure lust reflecting in them so much it makes you swallow, your own desire flaring up to match his.

“Don’t be shy, Lord Captain, let me see.” Gruffness in Abelard’s voice yields you even wetter than you were up until this point and you feel him pull your knees apart, to which you submit and grip the edge of the couch, seeing your arousal shamelessly smeared on your inner thighs.

Abelard inhales at the sight and you watch him involuntarily swallow, just like you did a second ago, and then he leans in, pressing his tongue to your drenched folds. You let out a moan as you inhale with sudden new sensation instantaneously clouding your mind and again grip his hair, then cup the back of his head when Abelard wantonly laps at your core, tip of his tongue slipping easily between each fold until it teases your entrance at which you mewl again.

“Abelard, Emperor…” You huff as he slides his tongue as deep into you as he can, as if wanting to taste your very essence, everything that makes up your desire for him, but he doesn’t linger, first brushing his upper lip over your swollen clit until his tongue follows, moving in circles and making you gasp with each breath you take.

Your fingers in his hair tremble as you watch your Seneschal lap at you like a man starved and you shudder each time he presses his tongue flat against the bundle of nerves that shoots a jolt through your spine with increasing euphoria. You mutter his name again, calling for him with a siren song he cannot resist. Abelard very much would like to see you come apart like this, to feel your thighs tremble against his ears and clamp over them as you shake with your climax, but he knows that he can make you feel so much more if he doesn’t rush. So he lifts his head, licking his lips clean after tasting the sweetest ambrosia you could have offered to him, and finally rises from his knees, gripping your hips with firm grasp and maneuvering you onto the couch and onto your back.

You reach up, wanting to remove at least some of his clothing that the officer is still wearing, but with one knee between your parted legs, to prevent you from closing them and hiding the most inviting view, Abelard begins to swiftly undress. Practiced movements of his fingers unfasten the clasps of his breastplate, placing it by the couch before he undoes his coat and shirt underneath. Your eyes roam his chest, still toned from battle and active lifestyle that he lives even under your command, and your fingers trace the top of it, slipping down over the grey chest hair that you so desire to be held against.

Abelard can see the passion and desire in your face, but he doesn’t need any more proof that you want him and only him, he got that confirmed when he felt your twitches and heard your moans just earlier while on his knees.

“Wider.” He softly says despite his tone having a layer of coarseness from his own need, and you spread your legs further apart for him while Abelard swiftly, in curt movements, undoes his belt, then his pants, finally showing you as much of himself as he is seeing of you.

You inhale sharply when you see Seneschal’s desire for you on full display and your eyes travel the length of his cock, from the root that is surrounded by neatly trimmed hair, then along the shaft, to the tip that is already weeping for you. You. You are having this effect on a man who you’ve come to know having steel-like resolve and composure.

While you swallow at the sight of Abelard’s hardness swinging gently but with heaviness, he slides a knee under your left thigh, keeping one foot down on the floor and his hands caress your breasts, ghosting over them at first, as if he’s too afraid to touch you again, but then his gaze washes over you like a scorching wave, seeing moistness seep out of you and downwards, last bits of restraint that he might has still been clinging to evaporate like a morning mist.

He grasps your breasts, massaging them while your fingers slide down to his abdomen and lower, then you take the slightly twitching length into your hands, giving it couple slow strokes that makes you moan softly. You want to feel him inside you and you can barely stop yourself from begging. Thankfully, Abelard does not have a mind to prolong this more than he already has. After playfully pinching your nipples and making you cry out, he grips the base of his cock, waiting just a moment longer for you to release it before aligning it with your entrance and beginning to slide in.

“Throne preserve me…” He says with a grunt and a sigh of utter satisfaction at the sensation of your wet heat surrounding his length, accommodating him with ease because of how aroused you are.

Abelard alternates between watching himself claim you and your face, to make sure that you’re comfortable, but you are much more than comfortable. You yourself are watching his cock push inside of you and you sigh with a moan when at last he buries himself fully inside. Your left hand clings to his thigh that is under your leg and you grab the armrest of the couch just above your head as well.

“You’re so beautiful, Lord Captain.” Abelard grunts, trying not to immediately begin plowing into you, starting it slow. One stroke, then two, prolonging the sensation of each and making both of you mark them with moans. “So… beautiful…” He says again and presses a palm to your right thigh, pushing it even further apart, then he places a palm on your stomach and his thumb presses against your clit, making you arch your back ever so slightly.

You watch his face, watch his eyes roam over you as he begins slowly picking up the pace, all while moving the pad of his thumb in circles and making you moan louder and harder, making you quiver already. Your fingers clutch his thigh and the armrest stronger and the ancient wood creaks under the weight motion of you indulging in each other.

“Deeper…” You huff, knowing that he can give you more of himself and Abelard eagerly complies, moving his palm from your stomach to grip the underside of your knee that was draped over his thigh just a moment ago, lifting it near to your chest while he leans in, and with one swift stroke, enters so deep that you cry out with pleasure.

“I knew you were needy.” Abelard whispers with a smile and you smile too, your flushed face and misty eyes etching themselves into his very heart.

“And you’re willing to oblige.” You whisper back and he chuckles, leaning onto his elbow and entangling his fingers into your hair when he cradles the top of it.

“That’s because you make it impossible not to.” Abelard huffs and kisses you deeply, beginning to move again, slower until you adjust to the new angle and depth, and then harder, his desire making him chase for his bliss. He doesn’t know how long exactly it has been since he felt this way, but the sensation is so overwhelming he cannot stop himself. “God-Emperor…”

He moves faster and stronger, with the new angle he keeps your leg firmly in place and his grip becomes almost bruising as he groans and sighs with every thrust that he delivers, making you moan and grasp onto him in return. Sheen of sweat on your brow, his beard tickling your neck as he kisses it and hard, deep pumps that Abelard grants you every time he rolls his hips against yours make beautifully licentious sounds each time his skin slaps against yours, accompanied by your body squelching around his soaked length. It’s like a melody to you both. This feels good, too good.

“Abelard, I’m-“ You start but cry out when he once again sheathes himself into you to the hilt and you sense him smile into the crook of your neck before the Seneschal rises his head and gives you a short kiss onto your bottom lip.

“Let me see you come undone, Lord Captain. Grant me this privilege.” He huffs and you suddenly realize that he’s tethering the edge of a climax himself, holding back only for you.

“Will you grant me the same sight?” You somehow manage to whisper a complete sentence and another kiss presses against a corner of your mouth.

“Of course.” He smiles and this time kisses you deeply, but briefly. His desire to see you fall apart under him trumping over his desire to keep tasting you.

Few more erratic yet precise strokes, few more thrusts that have you crying out with increasing pleasure and then – utter bliss. Your back arches, your nails dig into Abelard’s side and into the wood of the couch and you shiver, your body spasms with a wave after wave of pleasure that eradicates every worry, every doubt, every shadow from your mind. All while you don’t even realize how you keep crying out Abelard’s name as if you’re calling for the Emperor himself.

It’s everything to the Seneschal and he can’t endure this any longer, his restraint falling away completely and with a moan, while keeping his eyes on you, as you cup the side of his face after releasing your grip from the armrest, he spills himself in stuttering spurts that make his body tense and his thrusts falter in their rhythm until he stops completely, pressing his sweaty forehead against similarly slick yours.

Seconds or minutes pass while you both try to catch your breaths and remain still, yet Abelard’s muscles begin to shake from strain and he presses one gentle kiss to your parted lips, before he sits up and carefully pulls out of you, making you whimper both from small burst of pleasure and the absence that you weren’t quite ready to feel. He strokes your high with a tired, but content smile and eyes you entirely.

“I see my Lord Captain has been thoroughly sated, or am I mistaken?” He asks and his voice is hoarse, but you find yourself wanting to hear it like this forever.

“Temporarily.” You smile to him as well and Abelard’s face gain near comical expression of surprise until he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I may be too old for this.” He laughs softly and you sit up, gently cupping the underside of his jaw and leaning closer.

“Not too old for me.” You let your words hang in the air as you both smile to each other and then you kiss him, rejoiced when Abelard pulls you into his lap and your chest presses against his, skin to skin.

Your protector, your Seneschal, your advisor and now your lover.

Perhaps the ally you truly needed has been by your side all along and you wouldn’t dare complain about it.

Not even a little bit.

#rogue trader #abelard werserian #abelard werserian x reader #rogue trader crpg #abelard werserian x female reader #reader insert #x reader #female reader #my 40k fics #warhammer 40k #abelard fic

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recurring-polynya · 10 months ago

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Izakaya Kamenoya

I am re-watching the Captain Amagai arc, which I love because it has just a shit-ton of Seireitei slice-of-life worldbuilding. Early in the arc, Kira goes to the bar with Renji and Iba to sob about how his new Third Seat is better than him, and it made me wonder-- do the lieutenants always go to the same bar, or does the anime just make up a new one every time? Episode 172 had a nice shot of the exterior:

I immediately went to Episode 355 (the second New Year's episode), because I'm always thinking about Rukia shotgunning that beer while Renji gazes on lovingly, and it certainly *looks* like same place, but again, maybe that's just a very standard-looking izakaya.

I decided that trying to translate the kanji might help. They're more visible in the first image. The ones on the paper lantern, 酒処 were easy, because they just say izakaya (literally, "alcohol" and "place"). That just supported the idea that this was just some generic bar. For the kanji on the wooden lantern, which appeared to be the same as the ones on the sign above the door, I managed to puzzle out the bottommost one, 屋, which means "shop" or "restaurant." Hmm.

At this point, I was feeling a little stumped, so I went looking for other screen shots.

Other bar scenes I could remember took place in: Episode 179 (Ukitake and Kyouraku try to angle Amagai into a threesome). This had a clearer shot of the sign, and it's definitely the same as the lantern.

Ep 305 (Kira and Hisagi go for drinks after work and run into Unohana having "Ladies' Night" with Soi Fon, the Kotetsu sisters, and Yachiru ????)

And finally, Episode 265 (the end of the Sword Beasts arc, Ladies' Night again, I guess, this time with zanpakutou)

and bingo, they actually translated it for me, this time!!

In, the only one that didn't turn out to take place at Izakaya Kamenoya was from Ep. 303, the first New Year's episode. The SWA holds their holiday luncheon here (the sign says 茶屋, or "tea house") .

It is also not the place where Rukia and Renji announce their engagement in WDKALY, that place is called Safflower, and it's fancier and it's specifically mentioned that it's way classier than everyone's usual digs.

That's neither here nor there, let's get back to Izakaya Kamenoya!

Later on, like when I was 90% of the way through writing this post, I realized there was an earlier shot of the sign in episode 172 that was also translated (which I thought I remembered and then assumed I had hallucinated when I couldn't find it, but it was from a separate trip to bar with Kibune and Kira's shitty subordinates). Conveniently, it's also probably the most readable out of all of them. EDIT: I didn't notice when I pasted this in here, but they translate it as Kamegameya here, which seems like a mistake? B3 suggests they might have read the second character as a repetition (with the k turning into a g, which I don't know all the details of, but I assume it's that thing that happens in Japanese when a word is in the interior of another word and it gets a harder consonant, the same way the s in "sakura" in Senbonzakura becomes a z). Google also tells me that the name of Yugi's grandfather's game shop in Yu-Gi-Oh is called Kame Game, so I wonder if the subtitler here was just working on muscle memory 😂. I'm sticking with Kamenoya, although Turtle Turtle Bar has its own charm)

The three characters in the upper left are 居酒屋, which is just a different way to spell izakaya.

"Kame" was easy to translate, it's the leftmost large character on the sign, 亀. It means "turtle", but the second meaning is "heavy drinker," so I'm guessing this might be a bit of a pun. Unfortunately, googling didn't turn up any further detail on this.

I puzzled a little over the middle character, until I realized that it might be 之, which is an older version of の. Oh, says me, who only speaks the Japanese I picked up from anime, it's Kame no ya, the way all the inns in Kakuriyo end in "ya." It just means "House of the Turtle", or "Turtle's Pub."

Turtle's Pub. Can we just take a moment to reflect on the fact that the lieutenants (and sometimes captains) like to hang out at someplace called Turtle's? I am so charmed by this. I have not been so excited since the time I realized that Renji was wearing the koi hoodie in the Bount Arc OP.

It's possible that it was just named by a guy who has "kame" as part of his name or who likes turtles, or as I said, maybe it's a pun, but there are two other possibilities I thought of:

In line with this post on the naming scheme for the Seireitei Gates, perhaps it's in the north part of the city, and named after Genbu the Black Tortoise-Snake

When I am making up business names in my fanfic, I often like to associate them with the squads they are near-- dragons for stuff near Squad 10, fish for 13, firebirds for things that are more city-wide. It's partially trying to tap into squad solidarity, and partially so people have a clue where your place is located in this stupid maze city. I love the idea of some former captain with a turtle-themed zanpakutou, whose is fondly remembered because someone happened to name a good bar after them.

I looked up that extremely questionable Blood War era Seireitei map, wondering if maybe Squad 3 was near the north gate:

It turns out it is not (assuming the unlabeled squads just go in order), but you know what is? Squad 10. So if Kamenoya is named after the North Gate, I assume everyone drinks there because it's close to Matsumoto.

(thank you very much to @kaicko for checking my work)

#izakaya kamenoya #posts you bring to your autism assessment #this is probably going to be a part one of three i have a *lot* of interior shots i want to talk about #thank you for coming on this translation journey with me i'm kind of an idiot but i had fun #for the record i did try throwing these in google lens and it said ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so i had to do it myself #this is especially funny to me b/c my local state university has a turtle mascot so we literally *do* have a lot of bars named after turtle #turtle bar turtle bar TURTLE BAR #if anyone has any additional sightings please feel let me know!#do you think byakuya has ever been to izakaya kamenoya? i feel like he got dragged there occasionally as a lt and he hates it deeply #anyone know how to campaign for a new bleach wiki article? asking for a friend

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pombadapaz · 2 years ago

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quando dilara passa sob as estrelas, há quem poderia jurar que pomba sussurra seu nome, mas talvez seja apenas o mar deslizando na areia, contando seus segredos. se ouvir com atenção, se escuta que ela é cativante e, sem julgamentos, um tanto destrambelhada. no continente, juram que se parece com aslihan malbora, você sabe do que estão falando?

A pele feminina arrepiou-se sob o toque da brisa marítima, esta provocando-lhe um calafrio que desceu por sua espinha e inquietou o sono aparentemente tranquilo da tarka. A areia penetrou as madeixas escuras ante seu movimentar, um gemido baixo deixando seus lábios em sinal de desconforto. Ainda embalada em um estado entre o sono e o despertar, Dilara questionou-se quanto a possibilidade de ter deixado a janela aberta novamente - em sua mente, era a única resposta possível para o frio repentino. Imagine, então, sua surpresa quando o lento entreabrir dos olhos denunciou que não poderia estar mais distante do calor de sua cama. “Oh.” O espanto pareceu roubar-lhe as palavras a medida que as íris avelãs percorriam a praia a sua frente. E aquela seria apenas o primeiro de uma sucessão de episódios de sonambulismo, responsáveis por colocá-la nas situações mais adversas.

O estilhaçar do vidro ressoou pelo ambiente aconchegante da cafeteria, desta vez despertando menos olhares curiosos do que nos últimos quatro incidentes. “Desculpa, desculpa, desculpa. Agora é sério, nunca mais vai se repetir. E eu vou pagar tudo, eu prometo!” Àquela altura, suas palavras mais se assemelhavam a uma ladainha, entoada quase que diariamente. Era apenas o terceiro dia de Dilara como garçonete em um pequeno estabelecimento em Magdalene e sua presença já havia se tornado um prejuízo para a senhorinha que lhe dera a oportunidade. Em sua defesa, era possível notar um aumento no fluxo de clientes, todos ansiosos para o próximo desastre causado pela tarka recém chegada, no entanto, a dificuldade de repor os utensílios quebrados fora suficiente para que, no final do dia, a morena fosse dispensada mais uma vez. Terceiro trabalho em três semanas, aquele deveria ser um novo recorde. I guess not always the third time’s a charm.

tarka — chegada em saint abbon de fleury: há menos de um mês idade: não determinada ocupação: passeadora de cães (há exatos 2 dias) moradia: alenia.

#quem quiser plots é só avisar!!

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wishing-well-writing · 3 years ago

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“Maybe my name could also be known,”

Written by: 🍡

Fandom: Genshin Impact (SAGAU, Imposter au)

Character(s): The Imposter, others mentioned

Warnings: sagau typical violence, imposter au typical violence, manipulation, cult behaviors, toxic friendships/relationships

Summary: “Don’t I deserve to be loved as well?” Spoke the snake, beguiling venom lacing it’s divine words. Or, the imposter au from the eyes of the imposter.

A/N: heads up, transitions from third person pov to second person after the first few paragraphs, hopefully it isn’t too jarring (also please ask me about my imposter thoughts I have so many-)

That I helped return good to the people,

And restored greatness to Rome.

-/-/-

It was like second nature to them. The ability to lie and pull the strings into their favor. To take, and take, from their closest “friend”. Their friend’s appearance, their own friend group, their crushes, until they had everything. And their friend had nothing compared to them. After all, they deserved it. Their love, their adoration, everything.

You were friends, once. Once you had shown them a little game called Genshin Impact. You two began playing together, talking about the ups and downs of each character used. Though, over time, they couldn’t help but become resentful over how “lucky” you were. You had the five stars they could never get, the constellations they could never have, it almost seemed like the game itself loved them. And the serpent couldn’t help but to become envious of it all.

So when they awoke in Teyvat, before you arrived, they saw it as the greatest of all chances, to take it all, before you were even aware of it. And when they made their way to Mondstadt, to request a meeting with the Knight, they saw a statue in your likeness. Their likeness. A grin spread across their face, as an idea began to form.

(Butus! Brutus! Brutus! Brutus!)

When they, you, met with the Knights of Favonius. You spun a story about how you were running away, from a monster who had stolen your face, and everything you had cared about. Tears gathered in your eyes as you “recounted” how you blacked out and woke up under a tree, and seeing a city in the distance you had believed that they would be able to help. As you sobbed, you could see a interface with a stat called <Charm> out the corner of your vision.

You didn’t pay attention to it, yet, more preoccupied with your sob story. Crying about how scared you were, that what was following you would come into here as well, hurting your “creations”. Though you were only taking a wild guess, the way that the knights around you were muttering now, you had hit something gold. So you continued your charade, <Charm> going down as Jean wrapped her arms around you, whispering sweet nothings of how ‘she and the rest of the Knights would protect you, Your Grace,’ and that ‘when the imposter comes, we will hunt it down.’

The rest of the Knights leapt into action, declaring their own proclamations of protection and devotion. Sans a certain Calvary Captain, a Chief Alchemist, a Spark Knight, or even the Honorary Knight. Not that it really mattered you thought, giddy, once it gets out to Venti and then the rest of the Archons, you would be protected and the seed would’ve been planted. Besides, they weren’t really your favorites so, no skin off your back and all.

What’s a few starter characters and a few extra to a self proclaimed god?

(Butus! Brutus! Brutus! Brutus!

Butus! Brutus! Brutus! Brutus!)

It only took a couple of hours for Venti to find you, stuttering out honorifics and praises to you with awestruck expression. It was so easy to gain his trust and to bring him under your gold. A few words of how excited you would’ve been to visit Mondstadt had it not been for your “predicament” and how amazing it all was, was enough for him to start nearly crying and promising to write ballads in your name. You had to school your expression so you didn’t scoff at him, how naive and how gullible the Anemo Archon was, you thought.

Venti was babbling about ‘how much he wanted to show you the best shops and the best places in Mondstadt before visiting the old lizard!’ Pulling you along, passing by shops and other characters. Barbara, Diluc, even some NPCs you barely remembered stared at you in awe. Fully believing in your “divinity”. In response you smiled softly, all sweetness and spice, and waved to the crowds. Falling into yet another role you were so, so familiar with.

Sightseeing really wasn’t much, you had already seen most of Mondstadt through the game anyways. So you gently prodded at Venti to let you visit Liyue or Inazuma. A word about how ‘so scared you were of this monster’ and just how ‘worried you were if it ended up in Liyue first and if it tricked those poor poor citizens’. Your lip wobbling and your eyes going shiny with barely contained (crocodile) tears was enough to have Venti agreeing with you, with only just a bit of a pout. After all, it would be such a shame if Liyue’s freedom was taken away because of this monster bastardizing the Great Creator’s appearance. Internally you were celebrating another victory, another way to expand your influence.

With Venti’s winds, you two were able to reach Liyue in record time, as well as request a meeting with the Liyue Qixing and the Geo Archon. You had wanted to meet with Zhongli first, he was the strongest of all Adepti and Archons, so he would’ve been a great asset to gain. Gently tugging Venti in the direction of a certain funeral parlor, giving him a smile as you approached it.

Zhongli was just as easy to fool as Venti, even with that <Charm> interface. All you had to do was to tell him, sweet as honey, that you were just so proud of him, and how he had proven himself to you. The same hollow praises you knew by the back of your hand, and yet the dragon still melts in your presence. The same dopey expression that the bard had made before as he proclaimed to protect you now and forever, to be your spear and unyielding support. Zhongli was practically preening when you accepted him, ignoring the way Venti was rather huffy in the background.

The meeting with the Liyue Qixing went roughly about the same as the meeting with the Knights of Favonius. You recounted your story about how you arrived in Teyvat, and of the “monster” they should all be wary and on guard for, because some part of you was sure that They’d be following you here. You didn’t know why, but it made you uneasy. You didn’t want to lose your newest... playthings, so quickly. Yet, the Qixing promised to have the Millileth on guard for any instances of It, as well as any support they can offer.

So you secured a route to Inazuma, with a promise that you would sightsee in Liyue once this was taken care of. And with Venti and Zhongli in tow, you make your way over, the winds expediting your progress. Once you arrived in Ritou, it was almost a shock to see the Raiden Shogun, no, Ei herself to meet you. Apparently news had traveled over to the islands of your arrival, and your troubles through the use of Venti’s winds.

As she kneels before you, you reach over to gently cup her face. A silent gesture of affection. It was so easy, you didn’t even need to say or do much, for her to melt into your touch, like that of a lovesick puppy. Looking up to you, with what could be described as astonishment, and all you do is give her a soft, sweet smile. The commission guards posted in Ritou whispered around you, in awe of this happening.

You grin wryly, coldly even, as you began to plan how you’d take advantage of all of this.

(Brutus! Brutus! Brutus! Brutus!)

The next few days went by smoothly, as one by one, each of the seven nations fell under your spell and declared their unconditional loyalty and allegiance to you. Well, Snezhnaya’s declaration was a touch more ambiguous, but that was to be expected. Not that you particularly cared, as long as they supported you, it didn’t matter.

During the week or so, you had begun to experiment with what this <Charm> interface could do. The appearance of it reminded you of those webnovels you used to read with Them, where the MC landed in a world with a world-breaking system. And well, yours was also just as world-breaking, in a roundabout way of course. There was no options, nor anything to interact with, but what ever you said to a person, they would take it as the truth. With it, you were able to turn some acolytes into practically fanatics or zealots.

You had enjoyed delicacies, the best each region could offer, luxurious clothes and housing. It was practically heaven. Whatever you wished to do, wherever you wished to go, you could. Provided one of your acolytes came with you, as protection of course. You could watch the sunset from the Grand Narukami Shrine, pick Cecilia’s at Starsnatch Cliff, explore the ruins of Liyue.

You could do anything.

Of course, things would take a turn when one day, while on a outing with Diluc, Venti, and a handful of knights.

They appeared.

(My name is Brutus and my name means heavy,

So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy!)

You watched as they warily made their way into Mondstadt, feeling a satisfaction that came with their clear discomfort from the citizen’s malice directed at them. So just as when they were in the view of your entourage, and when they began to attempt to ask for help. You throw yourself at Diluc, burying your face in his coat as you cried, “That’s it! That’s the beast that stole my face!” Shaking and sobbing as you pointed at them, hiding your grin in Diluc’s coat as the full force of your entourage’s rage and malice is directed at them.

Flashing a malicious grin at them, you savor the look of betrayal and hurt from them, before the population of Mondstadt descended down on them. Labeling them a ‘imposter’ and calling for their death for the crime of ‘impersonating and hurting the Divine One.’ Of your group, only Diluc and Jean stayed behind to guard and protect you. Venti, Lisa, and Amber has gone after them, so it’s unlikely that they’ll escape unharmed.

Good.

As Diluc and Jean comforted you, you felt vindicated, no matter where they went, they would not find peace nor help. This was your world now, and these were your acolytes. Yours to break and use as you please. And even if you're found out to be the real imposter in the future, well, you'll just have to cause as much destruction and chaos as possible then.

(My whole life you were a teacher and friend to me,

Please know my actions are not motivated only by envy.)

Weeks later after the appearance of Them, you began to reside in a new temple made in your honor. An extravagant and beautiful temple, by the most skilled of craftsmen. You were living in bliss again. It was likely that They were dead or at the very least, living in agony. Those who felt the urge to help them would be dissuaded by the nations wide decree that, if anyone was caught helping the "imposer", it was punishable by death. So all in all, you were very happy with your work, your <Charm> helping along the way to solidify your standing and to... push your acolytes to become your most extreme of supporters.

Though you an announcement today, an incentive of sorts to... motivate your acolytes to find Them. Raising your hand, the commotion quieted down, a couple of known playable characters were missing but between your numbers and the possible allies They could’ve gained, its still a rather large power gap. Anyways, once the commotion stopped, you opened your mouth and spoke, “We all know that this imposter should be put to death for its crimes when it is found,” you grin sharply as you continued, “however, the first one of you to bring me back their head, will perhaps gain the chance to become my consort.”

Leaning back in your throne, you grin, as the commotion and planning began again. It was all so amusing, and a part of you wished that this could continue forever. As you leaned against your arm and called for Zhongli, Venti, and Ei to share a glass of wine with you. A toast you say, to a brighter future, and to the death of the imposter. At those words, the entire room cheers.

The False God has taken the throne, only through divine retribution can it be reclaimed.

-/-/-

I too have a destiny,

This death will be art!

The people will speak of this day from near and afar,

This event will be history,

And I'll be great too,

I don't want what you have,

I wanna be you!

Now playing: Brutus by The Buttress

#genshin impact #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #sagau.villain #cw toxic relationship #cw cult mention #cw manipulation #preordained fate #dark roast #🍡’s fics #🍡#🍡: not fully happy with this but I’m satisfied with it ig

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kodzukyan · 3 years ago

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better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

#baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokrev x reader #baji fluff #baji angst #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #i... i just really miss baji :(#come home you stinky head </3 #i'm sorry if he's ooc :(( in my head he's just really dorky and soft w his s/o HAHA #rissa told me to make it angst so i made it angst 👍#sometimes i write things

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tetsuwhore · 4 years ago

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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 | 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

Description: the boys dating a kinky S/o who everyone else thinks is innocent

Warning: explicit smut - dirty talk, risky sex, bondage, one use of the word ‘daddy’

Length: 1.2k words

Kuroo is so amused by the entire thing. you had managed to charm the whole student body into believing that you were the goddamn descendent of virgin mary

little did they know that he had Nekoma’s angel in his bed, moaning his name as he pounds into you and praises you for being his pretty little slut

it’s like his dirty little secret to relish in

don’t worry, Kuroo doesn’t kiss and tell. he knows you’d rather keep this aspect of yourself private, and he respects your wishes. even his teammates will be none the wiser to what goes on in your bedroom

still, he’s such a little shit. he’ll paint your skin with hickies and bruises, cleverly placing them so that they’re just barely out of visible regions that your clothing doesn’t usually cover

then at school, while no one else is looking, he’ll send a pointed gaze at your thighs or chest and flash you smug smile. he’s the only one who knows about the splotches of red and purple beneath the fabric of your uniform, and he gets such a kick out of that knowledge

“oh, what a pity nobody else gets to see my artwork”

“Tetsurou, i will hit you”

“honestly, i’m pretty into that, and so are you”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“T-Tetsu, someone is- fuck! Someone is going to h-hear us,” you hiss.

Tilting his head up, Kuroo looks back at you from his position between your thighs. He’s wearing a lazy smirk, but your eyes remain fixated on the slickness coating his cheeks and skin.

Ignoring your complaint, he goes back to work. Gripping your thighs tighter into the sides of his head, Kuroo pushes himself forward, tongue pressed up against your heated core. It’s dizzying - the way he’s lapping the wet little muscle up and down, swiping your clit over and over in repeated motions.

The feeling is absolutely delicious, and for a moment, you forget that you’re currently pushed up against the wall of the gym storage closet. For a moment, you allow your sharp whimpers to sound through the room, ignoring your rational mind telling you that you could get caught at any minute.

For a moment, you’re so, so tempted to simply toss out all inhibitions and let him have his way.

Mustering up your very last ounce of restraint, you start, “I-I’m serious! What if s-someone, uh, finds us and-”

“Why don’t we let them? Let ‘em know how pretty you sound when you’re moaning my name like a little whore,” he taunts, “Who would’ve guessed Nekoma’s little angel could make such lewd noises, hmm?”

You can only whine in response, a bright crimson flaring across your face as he continues.

“So, want to stop then? Want me to leave you here all high and dry?” he asks, the smug expression still on his face. Kuroo already knows your answer. He already knows you’re only growing slicker at the thought of potentially getting caught.

And he already knows that you’d let him do whatever he wanted so long as he granted you that sweet high.

He flashes you a wicked grin when you silently shake your head, hands already weakly grasping for his dark locks in an effort to pull him back against your core.

“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and let daddy make you cum on his tongue.”

Kageyama did not see this coming. when he first got into a relationship with you, he expected you to be just as inexperienced as he was

even in his third year, his demeanour is still simply too intense for him to appear as approachable to girls. therefore, the first time he has sex will likely be with you

now Kageyama isn’t necessarily vanilla - he just lacks experience

the first couple of times, you - being the more experienced one - will have to guide him, showing him how you like being touched, as well as helping him explore what feels good for him

Kageyama’s nature makes him someone who prefers remaining in a position of control - and once you get him comfortable enough, you can coax him into bringing that side of himself to the bedroom too

he’ll be slightly relieved that you’re so unsuspecting when it comes to your... wilder side. Kageyama is a rather private person, so he’s more than happy to have whatever happens in his bedroom remain in his bedroom

though, it does make for some interesting conversation when he’s in the changing room before practice and the others catch a glimpse of the angry, red lines adorning the pale skin of his back

and, of course, no one suspects you of anything. instead, they tease Kageyama, calling him a neanderthal for going so rough on you

“Jesus Christ, you’re an animal, Kageyama.”

“(Y/n), that poor girl.”

and all he can do is flush red and grit his teeth, silently bearing all the teasing while trying not to picture your pretty voice sobbing for him to go “harder, rougher, deeper”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kageyama had been in a shitty mood since he got back, slamming the door shut before finding you and practically dragging you to the bedroom. It had been another day spent dealing with Tsukishima’s and Hinata’s infuriating comments, this time concerning the purple hickies splotched across the expanse of his neck.

You weren’t even entirely sure how you had managed to pull it off - getting Kageyama to let his guard down while he was so riled up. But you had done it, positioning him to rest his back against the headboard of the bed and restraining him before he could stop you. The soft, silk cloth was light enough that he didn’t even notice when you silently looped it around his wrists in a tight knot.

The way his blue eyes darken - harsh and stormy as he locks them on yours in a hard glare - is enough to tell you that he was going to absolutely destroy you for this later. It’s nothing short of terrifying. And yet, the thought sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“Untie me. Now.”

Chuckling at the succinctness of his speech, your voice is mockingly saccharine as you coo, “Aw, but my Tobio looks so pretty like this. Completely and utterly helpless.” You tighten your grip on his broad shoulders as you position your dripping cunt directly above his hardened length, sinking down ever so slightly before pulling away. Again.

He despises this. There’s nothing he hates more than being in a position where he wasn’t in control. He knows you know this. And he knows you’re getting such a kick out of watching him grow more and more frustrated as you dangle the promise of pleasure in his face, only to yank it away every time he comes close to tasting it.

Slyly, you taunt, “Is this getting you all hot and bothered? Don’t worry, baby, if you ask nicely enough, maybe-”

You’re interrupted by the sharp sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room.

You aren’t even granted a second to react before you’re flipped on to your back. Kageyama wastes no time, immediately pounding into your heat at a dizzying pace that has you keening for him.

“You seem to have forgotten your place. Guess I’ll just have to fuck it into you so you don’t repeat that mistake again.”

#kuroo x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu smut #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kageyama tobio x reader

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years ago

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Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other.

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth.

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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kewpiemeayo · 3 years ago

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Hi hi hi~ Your Mark Grayson pregnancy imagine!! Could you do write Mark Grayson marriage headcanons or imagine?

Hi hi Mousy! Took me a while to realize wedding and marriage were not the same things, but I briefly mentioned a couple wedding/newlywed points.

CW: gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff

Getting to the point of marriage with Mark, took erm... it took a while. Though the man, himself, was absolutely elated to even daydream the smallest plan for the future with you, he was also always second-guessing himself.

At some point, Mark fell into an easy confidence about both himself and your shared relationship. There were plenty of goofy and loving moments, both of you were still able to maintain some sense of individuality where time away from each other wasn't a much needed vacation or a chore, but it was rather seamless.

The first time he tried to propose, he got too sweaty and nervous—you mistook it for a fever. The second time, he got called away to help with an emergency, though his sigh as he took off in his familiar blue, black and yellow spandex was more of relief than annoyance. Third time's the charm right? Totally, except Will, who had been entrusted with the camera, accidentally tripped on the root of the tree he was hiding behind and the entire, surprise was kind of ruined—you caught on rather quickly, though you still let Mark have his moment.

Your wedding was small. Those of your family you invited, his own family and some friends and teammates all filled the seats at your wedding venue. Your now mother-in-law was in tears, almost sending you into your own little giddy sob, but Mark couldn't let that happen. His usual doting behaviour took over, and he did his best to cheer you up and keep you smiling and laughing all through the night. He also had you calling his name a lot after the reception too...

Now marriage with Mark wasn't too far off from your relationship with him before. As expensive as things for weddings could get, Mark was happy before and he would be happy now. Kissing your wedding band or calling you his [wife/husband] now was just the icing on the cake.

If you two hadn't been living together prior to your marriage, you most certainly were going to now. That meant, finding a proper place to call home and buying furniture.

"Mark, we don't need a random turtle decor piece in our house."

"But it would look good on the coffee table!"

"What coffee table Mark? We still haven't gotten to the living room furniture section yet and we've been in this store for an hour!"

Mark grew to love cooking and little domestic moments with you. He did his best to make dinner at least two to three times a week, especially if work was getting busy for you. His dedicated mornings to training now incorporated time to either cook breakfast before you wake up or to make sure you had some sort of lunch to take with you to work.

Feeling more athletic? Cool, he is totally open to you training with him in the mornings, at least ground training.

Other domestic moments included but were not limited to folding fresh laundry with you in the afternoon and chatting away about frivolous matters. A morning rinse or a shower before bed with you was always nice too. Oh, and you almost always had to kill the bugs, whether you liked it or not, because when it came to critters, it was every person for themselves, and unfortunately, Mark had the upper hand of flying states/countries away at the sight of one.

"I'm InVinCiBLe, I sAvE pEoPLe WhEn I cAn aND I fiGht bAD GuYs tWiCe My siZe, aLien Or HumAn, aHoHo."

"You think you're so funny, huh? You screamed too!"

"YOU LEFT ME IN THE BASEMENT AND SONIC BOOMED OUT OF THE BACKYARD TO PARIS!"

"I brought you back some éclairs though..."

"I could have died, Mark."

"BUT YOU DIDN'T AND NOW YOU'RE [WIFE/HUSBAND] OF THE YEAR! I love you, please accept these delicious pastries as my sincerest apologies. Please?"

The two of you would fall into a little routine of finding one day out of the week where schedules allowed, for a movie night, or a spa day. The two of you often travel too (thanks to his abilities) so you can always get the freshest meals catered to your cravings or a new sight to see when things get dry back wherever the two of you decided to settle.

At least once or twice a month, Will, his teammates and your friends would get together for game nights or a potluck. It was almost always endearingly chaotic between the two of you if you played on separate teams. Mark wanted you to win, but he was also super competitive. You as well, especially when you started to throw out bets like the loser has to mow the lawn next or dish duty for the next week.

Mark was absolutely in love with you, no less than before marriage. If anything, just a tad bit more, and he couldn't wait to see what other chaotic moments he would get with you next.

Also, Mark breaks more things than you can count. First, it was a plate, then the week after it was some collectable drinking glass from a thrift store that neither of you really cared for. But then, things you actually cared for/didn't know were possible to break so early on started to well, break.

"Mark, honey. Why is our blender missing a blade?"

"Um well, you see—wow would you look at the time. I have to go meet Cecil for something."

Or that time...

"Babe, where did our shower curtain and the rod go?"

"Look, funny story, you're gonna get a real laugh out of this one..."

But the best one yet:

"MARKUS SEBASTIAN GRAYSON, YOU BETTER GET ME OUT OF THIS HOLE RIGHT NOW, OR SO HELP ME GO-"

"Oh shit, sorry, I meant to tell you about that."

"You meant to tell me there was a hole in our staircase? I sure hope you would! Why is there a hole in our staircase and why did you put a god damn black towel over it??? It blends in with the stairs!"

Oh and that turtle decor he wanted? He ended up buying it the next time he went to the store (without you), and at that point, you couldn't say no or tell him to return it because it did look good on your coffee table, albeit a little quirky. Mark also has and will continue his habit of picking up souvenirs from his trips, even if it's a fossilized rock from outer space or sand in a bottle from an island on Earth you have yet to visit.

>> Masterlist

#mea.markgrayson #invincible #invincible comics #invincible animated series #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #mark grayson invincible #mark grayson blurb #mark grayson one shot #mea.request #mea.mail

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startanewdream · 3 years ago

Text

Prompt 4: Jily in the rain for @jilytoberfest

(AO3)

They are 11 and the autumn rain catches them unaware on the way back from the greenhouse. They run as fast as their short legs can carry them, but by the time they reach the Entrance Hall, they are both drenched, a pool forming beneath their feet. They looked at each other, taking the sight of the other (his hair is falling languidly over his eyes, her usually impeccable uniform is all messy) and then a laugh escapes one's lips (Lily thinks it was his happy laugh first, James thinks it was her sparkle one) and the other joins, the sound reverberating in the hall.

They are 14 and they are returning from a Quidditch match that ended with Gryffindor losing the Snitch but still winning because of all his goals. James is in the arms of the crowd, laughing, rejoicing in his victory, oblivious to the rain that fell during the game and still falls heavily. He cries, louder than the rain, and then he sees her, walking with her friends, the red and gold paint in her cheeks melting under the rain, as oblivious to the rain as everyone else. Lily is smiling also and when their eyes meet, she winks at him, mouthing something that might be "good game", before she turns away. His heart skips a beat, and the feeling of winning is replaced by a sudden longing.

They are 16 and James messed up hugely. The last week of classes finds Lily miserable (Mudblood) and James ashamed of himself (you're just as bad as he is), worlds apart from each other. She doesn't care about it, though, or for anything at this moment; Lily stands still watching the lake at night--away from where everything happened--even when the first drops of the rain ripple through the lake and later when the heavy rain falls. It's good; the rain mingles well with her tears, hides from prying eyes. The sound of footsteps over the wet ground alerts her to someone. She turns, but it's not a person; a beautiful stag approaches her almost timidly. It's an impressive beast, but rather than be afraid, she lifts her arm, waiting until the stag is close enough to touch his head, the wet fur. The stag looks at her with more comprehension than it should be reasonable in a beast and Lily hugs him, sobbing, letting him warm her against the coldness of the rain.

They are 17 and helping a group of Third Years to reach back safely the castle during a storm that interrupted a class of Care of Magical Creatures, casting Drying Spells and Warming Spells when it hits her that this is the only kind of spells she sees him doing these days. To help others. And when he joins her back at the castle, trying to dry his glasses in his even wetter clothes, she smiles and offers him her help, having stayed warm and dry because James volunteered to venture outside. She approaches him, using the sleeve of her robe to dry his glasses, before giving him back; they are so close she can see each drop of water in his face as if he is sparkling. James smiles at her in thanks, putting back his glasses--his eyes are hazel, this beautiful combination of green and brown--and her breath catches. Before she can do anything, he runs his hand through his hair, splashing water everywhere, a mischievous grin on his face and Lily has to laugh too, trying to pretend her heart isn't racing in her chest.

They are 18 and it rains heavily on the day of their first date, but neither wants to give up. It's actually a good thing. They have to remain close together under an umbrella, the shops are empty due to most students giving up and they get a table in the Three Broomsticks without any problem. And later, when the wind takes away their umbrella, when they run across the grounds trying to catch it (Sirius is very fond of this umbrella), they turn to each other, their amusement fading away to be replaced by curiosity and longing; their lips meet under a curtain of water and this kiss is as wet as it can be, but they don't mind (Sirius complains that they could have cast an Accio and still snog, which is fair).

They are 20 and it rains on their wedding day but someone says that is a lucky sign and no one dares to question it.

They are 21 and Godric's Hollow feels more and more like a prison than their house. James spends as many hours outside as he can, feeling the sun on his face, the breeze of the wind, and he doesn't move when the first raindrops start to fall. Lily opens the backdoor, Harry in her arms, and calls him; James can't move. He watches as she leaves Harry in his baby carriage (their son loves to sleep under the sound of the rain) and walks towards him, the rain drenching her clothes in seconds, mud messing her legs. Lily doesn't mind; she joins him, lifting her head to accept the rain and James thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than this image of his wife under the rain. "I love you," he whispers, and she turns to kiss him. "As I love you."

They are 25 and the rain starts when they are outside attending to their small garden. Lily casts an Impervious to keep him dry and turn to Harry, but there is already a faint silver light around him; she guesses James already charmed him, so she just keeps explaining the herbs they are planting, Harry watching with attention. A distant sound makes her turn around. James and Sirius are running from the street, bringing bags from the grocery store; they could have cast a spell as well, but Lily thinks they are having too much fun. Then she blinks, turning to her son; if she didn't cast the spell and neither did James… "Your son just did his first magic," she tells James when he reaches her, and he hugs her, beaming.

They are 50 and the rain has just started. They watch from the porch, calling their grandkids to enter the house, hearing their laughs as they splash water at each other, enjoying the summer rain.

#jilytober #jily lives

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2jaeh · 4 years ago

Text

THREE DAYS I LEE TAEYONG

When your over controlling boyfriend invites you and his best friend to a three day resort did he not see trouble approaching? especially when said best friend has been trying to get in bed with you since the moment he met you.

Genre: mature theme, slight smut

warnings: cheating, suggestive masterbation, slight public scenes, cursing.

words: 3k

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“Are you sure it's okay for me to tag along ?” Taeyong spoke into the phone as he threw a dress shirt into his already overflowing suitcase. “Okay cool, well I`ll see you guys at the resort then.” Taeyong sighed as he cut the call and took a good look at himself in the mirror. He wondered if he was too overdressed, or not dressed enough. He bit down on his lip and looked at the caller ID, his best friend Inseong holding on to the person Taeyong desired most, Inseong`s girlfriend.

He had no idea when this “crush” began, if you could call it that at this point. Inseong and Taeyong had been casual university friends for a while but it was after graduation, when they both got hired by the same corporate office did they really establish a close friendship.

Taeyong and Inseong did most things together, whether it be catching up at music events or a sunday afternoon golf trip. But if he were being honest, the real reason he loved hanging out with Inseong was because he knew he’d bring her around, the girl who had stolen his heart without having the slightest clue.

DAY 1 : FRI

“Taeyong is afraid he is going to third wheel” Inseong chuckled as he concentrated on the open road in front of him, casually looking over at you scoffing down a bag of jelly tots.

“Youre working though” you stuck your tongue out at him, “Im gonna be just as alone as he is.”

“I guess you are” Inseong let out a sigh, “I don't understand why the dude cant get a date though he’s pretty good looking right?”

“Uhm yeah he's attractive.” Attractive was an understatement. You will never forget the day Inseong introduced you to Taeyong, It was around the time you two just started dating about two years ago, and you had never seen someone that good looking up close before. It wasn't the fact that you didn’t find your boyfriend attractive, you loved Inseong and he was a good looking guy but Taeyong, he was different.

Taeyong barely spoke to you but he was always polite and had a warm aura unlike the rest of Inseongs friends. He was the one you got along with most and because of that Inseong had a habit of inviting him on many of your trips, much like the one you're venturing on now.

You stuffed the empty snack packets into a trash bag as Inseong pulled into a very fancy resort one you weren't quite familiar with. Inseong was actually on a work trip that involved meeting with potential clients and partners, this did not include Taeyongs sector but their boss allowed him to bring you two along as a treat. Inseong’s firm absolutely adored him, which made sense because he was practically married to his job.

“I'm going to get the room keys” Inseong placed a peck on your cheek and you watched him jog off to the front desk while you meandered around the foyer of the hotel.

“y/n” you heard a chirpy voice call from behind you. Turning you were met with those bold black orbs and that ever so charming smile.

“Taeyong” you grinned back pulling him into a tight hug that drowned you in his rich scented perfume.

Taeyong wasn't sure if you noticed his fingers linger on the small of your back. He would always leave you small signs but you’d never notice. His bright eyes dulled for a second when your attention turned back to Inseong who returned with the room keys.

“Oh you're here great! y/n and I are staying in the room next to yours, do you mind taking her up ?” Inseong said, handing Taeyong both sets of keys.

“What? You’re not coming up to see the room ?” you asked, a little hurt that he was already ditching you on this trip.

“Sorry honey they want to do a meet and greet and tour of the resort, i'll be up as soon as it's over” Inseong gently stroked your head and you watched him walk off with one of the resort employees.

“I guess it's just you and me then” Taeyong smiled although regretting his words when he saw the fake smile grace your face and made your way over to the elevators. Taeyong was all too familiar with this scene. Inseong being busy, he excludes you from the rest of his corporate friends and eventually calls on him to babysit you. He wondered if you resented him solely because of Inseong’s habits. He tried his best to always make you feel comfortable even if it put him in the most uncomfortable position both mentally...and physically.

“Well I'm going to take a nap so I'll see you around I guess” you pressed your lips together and took the room key from him.

“Are you not gonna eat anything ? We could go down for Lun-”

“I'm good Taeyong, I'll see you later okay ?” Taeyong watched as you disappeared into the room and it felt like he had been punched in his stomach.

DAY 2 : SAT

Taeyong lay in bed utterly exhausted after barely getting a wink of sleep courtesy of the screaming match that happened last night. Although muffled, Taeyong already knew it was about Inseong coming back at around 3am. ‘What meeting would go on until that time especially on the first day’ Taeyong thought as he rubbed his bare chest and stared up at the ceiling. Inseong loved his job and he loved socializing with people who shared that interest. To him coming home at that time absolutely plastered was normal, because it was part of his work lifestyle.

Taeyong groaned and turned onto his stomach, burying his head into the pillow as he heard your sobs replaying in his head from the fight. He was tired of sitting around not doing anything when he knew for a fact he could treat you way better. At moments like this he didn't give two shits about Inseong, especially after he got the new promotion and made a new friend group of pretentious assholes. Taeyong wanted to be with you by your own choice, he wanted to hang out with you without Inseongs name attached to the reason you two were together.

Just as he was lost in his thoughts Taeyong’s ears perked at the sound of Inseong leaving the room and the sound of the shower running.

“No fuck not now please not now” Taeyong groaned as he felt shudder overcome his body and his underwear became slightly restricted. His mind raced with thoughts of you. It all came to him so quickly he barely noticed that his hand was already down his sweatpants as he buried his face further into his pillow. He wished he was with you. The things he would do to you were unspeakable. He wouldn't give a shit if Inseong walked through those doors finding him on top of girlfriend, he didn't care.

You finished drying yourself off and put on a cute yellow sundress that hugged your curves, showing off the two piece bikini that Inseong told you not to wear around the resort especially when he wasn't with you. This was payback for the way he treated you last night. Not only did he ditch you in a foreign room for an entire evening, he also returned drunk out of his mind and blamed you as usual for not taking care of him. You wanted to at least enjoy whatever you could from this trip and if it meant looking hot and hanging out with Taeyong, then so be it.

You made your way next door and rang the doorbell patiently waiting for your assigned babysitter. Taeyong swung open the door, dressed in only in a pair of black harem pants and a towel on his neck that he used to dry his hair. You took in the site of his bare chest, drinking in his pretty figure that matched his gorgeous face.

“I'm sorry I was gonna go down for breakfast I was wondering….i’ll just wait outside” you stuttered and you heard Taeyong giggle

“Come inside y/n.”

You walked inside his room and it was surprisingly neat in comparison to yours. You felt kinda embarrassed at the state of your room even though most of it were Inseongs doing anyway.

Taeyong continued drying his hair as he watched you scan his room, his eyes already on your figure in that goddamn sundress. His only thoughts were ripping it off until he noticed you were staring right back at him.

“Your hair is sticking up a bit at the back, here let me help you”

Taeyong watched as you approached his figure and reached up to neaten his hair. He really admired his will power to keep his hands off your body as you inched closer and closer to him.

“Thanks” he smiled sweetly masking his dark intent and threw on a loose hawaiian shirt gesturing towards the door, “shall we?”

The two of you had a decent day lounging around the pool area and took a stroll on the beach before heading back for lunch. You never expected to bump into Inseong and his colleagues during lunch and the way Inseong looked at your outfit, you knew you’d never hear the end of it. He practically ignored you the entire time while he and his friends chatted away, even going as far as introducing Taeyong to a few of them but not you.

Just before you and Taeyong made your way to the elevators to retreat back to the rooms, Inseong jogged over and tugged on your wrist.

“I know we had it out last night but was all of this really necessary ?” Inseong gritted his teeth as he looked over your skimpy outfit.

“I thought it was cute, not everything I do is to ruin your perfect life Inseong” you rolled your eyes and pressed the button to signal the elevator.

Inseong let out an exasperated sigh and released your wrist before massaging his temple.

“Just dont pull this kinda shit at the dinner tomorrow please, the chairman is going to be there.”

You and Taeyong watched as Inseong stomped away and Taeyong noticed that for once instead of beating yourself up about Inseongs reaction you seemed somewhat proud to piss him off to that extent.

“I'm sorry you're always in the middle of all of this Taeyong” you apologized as the two of you stepped onto your floor and made your way to the rooms.

“It's okay y/n it's not your fault, and besides I think you look ridiculously hot in that dress” he replied and licked his lips as you felt your face heat up with his bold words. “Also,” he continued as he scanned his room key

“I think you should own it, wear something sexy tomorrow, not for Inseong but for yourself and maybe a little for me.”

DAY 3 : SUN

You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out the classy black velvety dress you had saved for a night out. The dress was intended for a Valentines date with Inseong but that never happened because he had a more important meeting to attend.

As you made final touches to your outfit you wondered if subconsciously you did also dress up for Taeyong. God the way he looked at you when he told you to wear something sexy, you hadn't felt flustered yet intrigued like that in a long time.

You put on the final touches to your make up and made your way down to the banquet room. You already felt a bit awkward as you noticed a few people stare at you and whisper until you saw Taeyong. You barely noticed Inseong sit directly in front of him, all you could see was Taeyongs dark eyes taking every bit of you in.

Inseong’s eyes though we're different. He looked annoyed but still got up to help you into your seat which was weirdly next to Taeyong instead of him. But then it dawned on you when you noticed that the name card next to him was the chairman.

Typical. That was all he cared about in the end.

Taeyong’s eyes were still on you as you took your seat, unbothered if Inseong even noticed at this point, he was in awe. Did you dress up because he told you to ? Did you dress up for yourself and maybe, just maybe for him ?

“You look gorgeous y/n” he whispered, his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. You brushed your hair behind your ear and nodded a thank you, trying to keep your focus elsewhere. Although Taeyong was conversing with the people at the table something made you feel as if you still had his full attention.

You almost jumped when you felt his cold fingers trace circles on your knee, his focus was still in his conversation but yours was solely on his movements. Taeyong lightly squeezed your thigh to test the waters, a smirk he indefinitely couldn't hide graced his face and he allowed his hand to move higher.

You gulped as he began to move, completely entranced by his touch as you felt him trace more circles on your upper thigh until his hand settled in your lap. Taeyong moved his chair closer to you and the table in order to obstruct the view of a passerby or any suspicious eyes at the table.

“You work with Inseong right?” a man said to Taeyong as he laced his fingers with yours under the table.

All of it was so incredibly promiscuous but it gave you an adrenaline rush and Taeyong knew you were completely on board when you squeezed his hand back and bit down on your lip.

Taeyong grabbed your hand and placed it in his own lap, allowing you to feel exactly what you were doing to him at this moment. You sucked in a breath as you palmed him and he gave your thigh another squeeze, this time much harder, rougher than before.

Eventually into the night you decided to excuse yourself and Inseong preferred it anyway. You couldn't believe how oblivious he was to the closeness of you and Taeyong that it only angered you even more of how he would really choose these fake people over his girlfriend for the night.

As you made your way to the elevator you didn't even realise Taeyong had already followed you there, putting on his usual laid back demeanor. The two of you stepped into the elevator and it was silent. You wondered why he was so quiet especially after pulling that stunt during dinner. Completely confused you grabbed your room key but before you could scan it Taeyong blocked your path, scanning his room key and pulled you inside his room not giving you any time to process this.

He was all over you, his lips his hands his body, you felt almost every part of him as he pressed you against the wall. He used his knee to separate your legs as he planted open mouthed kisses on your neck, practically growling into your ear when he heard a moan escape your lips.

“I-I didn't do anything in case someone from dinner saw us” he explained as he found the hook of your dress but stopped to look in your eyes, “are you okay with this?”

You answered him by practically ripping open his white dress shirt and ran your hands down his body. Taeyong smirked and moved you to the bed, ridding himself of his shoes and trousers before attacking your neck once more.

“I'm sorry if this all moves too fast I literally can't help myself” he growled once more as you got undressed and the sight of you in your scantily clad underwear made him lightheaded.

“Well its best we hurry the fuck up before that asshole comes back” you sighed as you pulled him on top of you.

“Fuck I dont want to hear about him, youre mine right now” Taeyong groaned and skillfully unclipped your bra and rid you of your lace panties. You bit down on your lip as you watched him pull down his boxers and free his member, licking your lips unconsciously.

“Don't worry baby you can suck it next time” he teased and without warning pushed himself into you with one brisk movement. The room filled with both of your moans as Taeyong’s hips slammed into yours, while one hand laced his fingers with yours while the other was wrapped around your throat.

“Oh my God Taeyong” you cried completely in ecstasy thanks to the way Taeyong handled you. He was animalistic yet not hurting you in any way. His eyes burned holes into yours as he moved his hips faster and faster until you came undone and he followed straight after.

Taeyong quickly cleaned you up and kissed you softly, his touches were much lighter as he held your face in his hands moving his lips gracefully against yours.

“I'm going to end things with him Taeyong I can't take it anymore” you rested your head on his chest as he stroked your hair.

“I know baby just do whats best for you, and just know I actually do like you like really fucking like you” he replied and he felt you smile.

“You fell for me in three days ?” you giggled against his chest.

“No baby i've liked you since the day I met you, these three days were for you to finally come to your senses.”

#taeyong smut #nct taeyong #taeyong scenario #taeyong drabble #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct127 smut #nct127 scenarios #kpop smut #lee taeyong #superM #nct 2020 #nct reactions

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

Subtext, by Calvin Klein

happy birthday @stinastar!!! I know it’s not the prompt you wanted, but I’ll write that too. :) Thank you so much for being awesome and so so sweet!

Legally Blonde au - modern - fluffy pre-getting together

depending on the comments I get on this, I might post a second part

tw: Geralt’s tragic backstory (foster care mention)

---

Geralt approached Jaskier slowly and kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. “What’s up-” he noticed the bunny ears poking up from Jaskier’s fluffy brown hair and added “-doc?”

The young law student looked up at Geralt through teary black lashes and let out another soft sniffle, his lips wobbling unattractively. Geralt hurried to drape his zip-up hoodie over Jaskier’s bare shoulders and take a seat on the wooden bench beside him.

The worried teacher’s assistant rubbed his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms through the material, trying to warm him up a little better. “Why are you dressed as a Playboy bunny, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night in this terrible New England weather?”

“I made a terrible mistake in coming here.”

“What?”

Geralt had never heard Jaskier sound so utterly defeated. Usually the student was bright and bubbly, congenial to a fault even when he made mistakes or answered incorrectly during class discussions. The charming brunette seemed to pull bucket after bucket from a nearly endless well of positivity; until now, apparently.

As he sat beside Geralt on the worn wooden bench, wearing the tight pink leotard and little wrist cuffs, practically glowing in the yellow-tinged lamplight, he seemed too ethereal to be real. Even as he shivered and sniffled, Jaskier looked too gorgeous to be human. Seeing him in such a distressed state was a little unnerving, like bumping into an old teacher outside of school or accidentally seeing your neighbors kissing through a window. It felt wrong.

“I followed the love of my life to this stupid fucking university and now he’s going to marry some fancy, well-bred blonde woman like his parents wanted and I’m going to flunk out of these classes with nothing to show for my time here and my parents are going to-”

“Hey,” Geralt interrupted, taking one hand from his pocket to place on Jaskier’s trembling knee. “It’s going to be okay. Breathe, Jaskier.”

“Right. Breathing. Yeah.”

“Are you… okay?”

Jaskier looked at him again and Geralt flinched away from the obvious hurt in his watery blue eyes. Of course he’s not okay, he’s sobbing alone on a cold bench in the middle of Halloween night.

“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I’m not good with words but- Wait... are you saying you came to school because of a man?”

“Y-Yeah. You could put it that way, I guess.”

Geralt yanked his hand away from the younger man’s knee and scooted backwards, away from the man he’d just been admiring. “Oh my god, that has to be the absolute stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You came all the way to Oxenfurt University’s prestigious and award-winning Law School to hunt down a husband?!”

Jaskier looks taken aback. Startled and bewildered and sad, like a much smaller child rather than an adult man with a degree and a half. “Are you mad at me!?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Geralt laughed humorlessly. He shook his head, swiping one hand over his face on his way to tuck in a stray strand of white hair. “I worked two jobs to get myself through college. I was doing full-time classes and pulling sixty hour weeks at the bar and the grocery store; I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since I graduated high school. I certainly don’t know the meaning of the word vacation anymore... and you came here to follow some- some guy that you liked?”

“We’d been together for three years before he suddenly dropped me to pursue a degree in fucking bitter looking women, to be completely fair. And I managed to get a good enough LSAT score to qualify for admittance, so it’s not like I’m totally incompetent.”

“No,” Geralt nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess that’s true.”

“No guessing involved,” Jaskier spat, tired and angry and flustered. “It is the truth, plain and simple. I deserve to be here and I will be successful.”

“Hmm.”

“Well why are you here, then, Mr. Grouchy T.A.?”

“I grew up in foster care and let me tell you, from experience, that the system is shit. If I had been forced to remain a foster child for any longer than I was, I probably would have become a match-happy little delinquent like my youngest brother, Lambert. Luckily my third foster parent, Vesemir, adopted me legally and made me his son. He already had one adopted son, my older brother, Eskel, and after me there was Lambert.”

Jaskier took a moment to contemplate Geralt’s story, pulling the sweatshirt closer around his shoulders and burrowing down into the neckline in a way that sent butterflies swirling through Geralt’s stomach rather unexpectedly. Then the younger man smiled at him, pearly teeth glinting in the light of the streetlamp. “That’s… that’s a little sad and a little sweet. It makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“The sadness and the sweetness,” Jaskier repeated, grinning a little more shyly than before. Geralt wasn’t sure, since it was so dark and he was so skeptical, but it almost looked like Jaskier was blushing. “Like you. Sweet, kind, caring, but a little melancholy. Anyway, I should be getting back to my dorm. I need to study.”

“I want my sweatshirt back,” Geralt said, standing and offering Jaskier a hand up. He wobbled to his feet, still wearing a pair of dangerously high black stilettos. Geralt knew this outfit would haunt his dreams for the next few weeks and cursed Hugh Heffner’s lingering spirit.

“If you’re lucky,” Jaskier replied, and click-click-clicked his way into the darkness.

Geralt honestly wasn’t sure he’d mind if Jaskier decided to keep it… maybe someday he’d wear it to class. And didn’t the thought of that send something odd and new and terrifying swirling in Geralt’s gut.

---

“Where are we going, exactly?” Geralt asked, eyeing the giddy brunette before him. Jaskier batted his long eyelashes at the grumpy T.A. and gave his sweetest pout.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Well then don’t stop now!”

The excitable young law student laced his fingers with Geralt’s and pulled him through the large glass doors and into the mall. When at last his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the shopping center he asked: “What is this place?”

Jaskier grinned, taking a deep, dramatic breath. “A department store.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and took his own deep breath, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What is that smell?”

“Love,” Jaskier replied.

“What!?”

“Love,” the student repeated, pointing at a sign with his free hand. It was large and pink and read LOVE, BY CHANEL in black block-letters. “There’s Love in the air.”

“Terrible joke, really,” Geralt teased. “But really, Jaskier, why are we here? You have plenty of clothes for court; I know because I’ve been in your closet and seen them firsthand.”

“We’re not here for me,” Jaskier elbowed his mentor and study partner gently in the side. Their hands were still interlaced in a way that made Geralt’s heart thunder dangerously against his ribs; love really was in the air, it seemed. Jaskier continued breezily, unaware of the older man’s roiling internal conflict. “I’m taking you shopping so that you have the proper outfit to wear when accepting Stregobor’s partnership offer.”

They had reached the men’s business section and the brunette released Geralt’s hand in order to dig through the racks of clothing. He was elbow deep in Calvin Klein and Kenneth Cole, hunting for jackets in Geralt’s size. “Jaskier, I can’t afford this kind of-”

“Hush,” Jaskier replied, waving his hand dismissively in his direction, letting it go limp at the wrist. “It’s a gift. No! Not a gift, a repayment.”

“I didn’t give you anything…”

Jaskier looked up from the selection of suits he’d been inspecting and shot Geralt a dangerous glare. “You most certainly did give me something, Geralt Roger Eric du-Haute Bellegarde! You looked past my bubbliness and my pink blazer and my previous degree and treated me like a person. You supported me and encouraged me without asking for anything in return so this is what I’m giving you.”

Geralt took a step towards him and sneezed. “What is that smell?”

An attendant appeared as if from thin air, a little glass bottle clutched in her hand. “It’s Subtext, by Calvin Klein!”

“It’s not really my thing,” Geralt frowned, closing the distance between himeslf and Jaskier as he made his apologies, “But thank you, regardless.”

“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything!”

Geralt stepped close enough to feel the heat of Jaskier’s body, still not brave enough to initiate touch. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Jaskier grinned again.

Geralt considered the feelings that were stirring in his heart, driving through his veins, branching out through his mind so that all he could focus on was Jaskier...

It might be a problem, he thought, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. But it can be dealt with another time.

#legally blonde #legally blonde au #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #happy birthday stina #pre slash #legally blonde the musical #geraskier fluff #preslash #pre getting tgoether #getting together #bouncey's endless au collection

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narrators-journal · 4 years ago

Text

Step one

Hoo boy, this one is potentially dark as fuck, so remember that this is entirely fantasy. Do not think this is healthy or copy anything here.

Cw: heavy heavy nsfw. Drugging, b+e, somnophilia, Illumi gets possessive lowkey

previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi used the month or so you were closed off and mourning to try and dig up as much intimate info on you as he could, from childhood fears to how many times you've had sex. With this knowledge added to his collection, the last thing he needed to do was set up a cover story, than introduce himself. If this fails, she can be killed, or trained He told himself as he read through your social media on his laptop, ignoring a nagging sense of dread he hadn't felt since his first solo kill as a child.

The cover story was easy enough, murdering the people across the street from your home was boringly simple, setting them up to die of heart attacks and a break in, waiting out the investigation, nothing new to the assassin. By the time things had cleared up there, you were beginning to cheer up anyway, which was good, it'd be easier for Illumi to court you if you weren't verging into suicidal territory. Finally, the day came when he moved into the home, much to the teary refusal of his mother. "I'm not leaving permanently," Illumi assured her the day he moved out, taking only a duffel bag of clothing with him, the issue was that his mother was holding him in a hug and refusing to let go. "You were so excited for me to be courting a woman, you can't sob and cling to me when I need to move out to properly 'woo' her." His voice was level and uninterested, as always, though on the inside he did feel a bit of reluctance at leaving, which was why he guessed he didn't use a lot of force to remove his mother's iron grip. "I know, but why can't you go about the process from home?" she blubbered, Illumi's father standing a bit behind her sighing at her antics, "To build up proper propinquity I need to be near her a lot, I cannot do that from here while also doing my work. Besides, it is relatively frowned upon for a 24 year old to still be living with their parents, so I need to have my own place for...the later portion." Sadly, even logic didn't calm Kikyo down, so Silva was forced to pry her from Illumi and simply wished the long haired assassin well as the man left. To atone for the sin of leaving the Zoldyck estate, Illumi was required to call his mother at least once a day, but other than that, he was free to live across the street from you when he wasn't working. This set up proved to be very useful, as it allowed him to linger on the street without suspicion, watch you from his windows, and it gave him more opportunities to run into you 'organically', despite having your meager outing schedule memorized already, and more. The day he moved in properly, Illumi was helping a trio of butlers move furniture in, trying to seem as normal as possible since he could see you sitting on your porch, getting some fresh air while also watching your new neighbor curiously. It's good to see her out at least, vitamin D is necessary for good health. he thought as he moved the last bit of strategically aged furniture into the home, letting the butlers return home after that. If he was to blend in, he'd have to slum it for a while after all. Though, he could put up with that as long as you stayed as friendly as you were the first night he was there. It was pretty late, the dark hours cooling the relatively warm air of the late spring day when he heard a knock at the door, but when he opened, there you were, your (h/l), (h/c) hair pulled away from your face, in a (f/c) jacket and some of your nicer casual clothes, "Hello! I'm sorry if you were asleep or anything, but I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" you chirped, your kind smile making something weird happen to his heart, but he hid that, not wanting to scare you by saying he was having a heart attack, "Ah, hello miss. No, I was just trying to cook some dinner, not to worry." he assured, watching you relax a bit before tilting his head, "I'm sorry if this is curt, but have we met?" he asked, your (e/c) eyes shining with confusion for a moment before realization washed that away, "Oh! you're the man I bumped into at that party!" he mimicked your stunned reaction, chatting a bit before you heard angry sizzling from his kitchen, the sound earning a concerned look from you. "Um?? Should you step outside?" you suggested, and when he looked in your eyes again, he saw that undeserved concern in those captivating orbs. That weird feeling returned in response, but Illumi repressed it once again, "No, I believe that's just my food," he said nonchalantly, watching your expression change to panic, it was so intriguing to see how expressive you were compared to his family, "Maybe you should go check on it??" you urged gently, the panicked look in your eyes compelling the empathy-less assassin to do as you said, so he nodded simply and returned to the pot of boiling water that was leaking with angry bubbles splashing water onto the burner. He simply turned the stove off and returned to you once the water had settled again. You were still there, nervously peeking in to try and check on him he assumed. "Why didn't you come in?" He asked, making you jump, "I-I wasn't invited, it's rude to just walk in." you pointed out, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that fact briefly. Though he verbally just sighed in defeat, running a hand through his long, silky hair. "Actually, would it be uncouth of me to maybe ask if you would help me with something?" He asked, and when you shook your head he reluctantly continued, "You see, my family is rather well off, so I've...never learned to cook. Would you maybe teach me how to make the food?" He asked, and he liked to think it was the power of his natural charm that made you agree, not the pitiful mask of helplessness he put on. Either way though, you were now inside of his new home. Could this be considered a date? Illumi mused as he followed your instructions to bring the water to a boil again and put the store-bought noodles into the rolling liquid, People cook together as a date, so this should count as a date. He decided after a moment of watching you prepare food, following your orders until the two of you had managed to make a rather respectable looking dinner. He cemented this occassion's 'date' status by handing you a plate, "It's fair that since you helped make it, you eat some of it with me." he pointed out when you went to refuse his offering. After that, the two of you sat in his living room in silence, neither making the first move to speak. For Illumi, the silence was comfortable, it gave him time to judge the weird thing that had happened with his insides. He wasn't dead, and the warm, fluttery sensation was fading, so it didn't seem to be fatal. I should get the family doctor to check me over. he decided as he ate, finally glancing over at you while you sat on the opposite end of the couch. Judging by the tension in your limbs and how you radiated discomfort, you were about to bolt like a scared rabbit. That's not good...

"so." He hummed, hoping to ease your anxiety with some conversation, plus it'd give him a chance to dig into you, "why were you at that party?" There was a stretch of silence, your mood falling again for a moment, but than you seemed to put on a fake smile for him, how sweet. "I'm a bit shy, so my friend decided to try and hook me up with a man she worked with." you explained, shrugging it off, "He ended up ditching me for some friends when we got there, so I didn't ask for a second date." Well of course your date went badly, you're supposed to be with me, not some stranger. a dark part of him thought, than stopped. What brought that up? I haven't even decided if she's really worth 'dating'. He reminded himself, but that possessive thought still lingered a bit more than he would've liked. However, that issue was for later, right now he wanted to see just how much information he could get you to willingly tell him. "So, are you looking for a partner?" he asked, and he just caught a bit of a flustered epression on your (s/c) face at his question. He was beginning to enjoy seeing such an expression. "R-right now? Um..not actively, b-but I'm not against a relationship." you said, not looking at him as you spoke, your body language screaming how flustered you were. After that, the two of you simply chatted, Illumi enjoying when you fully relaxed and opened up a bit more, but what felt like only a short time later, you were thanking him for the food and leaving for your own home. The tall man was polite back, but for the third time that night, his torso felt odd inside. He wanted to ask you to stay, maybe offer you a drink and slip a sedative into it, that way you'd stay the night, but no, he refrained from stopping you. If you drug her, she'll wake up tomorrow and be terrified of you. Maybe even call the cops. He told himself as he shut his door behind you. However, the thoughts were already there, making him groan. What is going on with me?! I'm losing control of myself so easily now. he thought, rubbing his face as if that would wipe away the bubbling waves of dark lust that were once again flooding his mind with images of you naked beneath him, calling out his name, mixing with the urge to control that he usually kept a close eye on. This is absolutely pathetic. She's not even that attractive! He chided himself, glaring down at the growing bulge in his pants as if it were to blame for his urges. Which, to a point was true, but either way it still twitched, demanding to be tended to. However, he refused to masturbate again. His sperm was precious, and while he could produce quite enough to impregnate a woman despite such a shameful act, he didn't like wasting his DNA. So, for a bit, he tried to cook up ways to relieve himself, unable to shake the lustful thoughts of you. Could he wait until tomorrow and lure you over again? No, that'd leave a horrid impression of him in your mind. Maybe he could sneak some aphrodisiacs into your food and than offer to help? No, that'd take too long, and he didn't know how long he could control his lust. Around eleven or so, Illumi finally came up with a satisfactory method. So, he turned his lights off and slipped out into the cool night to slither across the street and into your dark home. It was late enough that he knew you were asleep, so he was free to make his way in and towards your bedroom, What he wasn't expecting though, was to find you sleeping on your couch, your blanket fallen to the floor, revealing your pajamas to him. The sight only seemed to throw gasoline on the fire of neglected needs within him. "now this is simply inappropriate," he breathed, shaking his head at your baggy t-shirt and (random color) panties, "(y/n), you should know better. Such outfits should be saved for your husband." He kept his voice low, making sure not to wake you as he chided you and his lightless eyes zeroed in on the bit of panty he could see with the way your shirt was ridden up ever so slightly. teasingly. He sighed, this would make his plan easier anyway. So, he just pulled out a needle of sedative and carefully moved you so that he could get access to your neck without waking you, sticking the needle in and injecting you with the fast acting drug. Within a few moments you were certain to stir for nothing less than a natural disaster, so he was free to do whatever he wished. The assassin's body burned with lust, his cock throbbing within his pants while he moved your thighs apart, revealing more of your panties. You weren't much to look at, he'd seen prettier women, but the feeling of your perfectly malleable thigh in his hand, seeing you so complacent and welcoming for him while his hormones were so out of control, you could've passed as a goddess in that moment. He wasted no time in removing your underwear, leaving your shirt and bra on so it'd be less work afterwards, revealing your most intimate parts to him with no arguments. It gave him such a rush to see you so obediently laying on your back, your legs apart and welcoming. your vulnerability was like a form of foreplay for him, but when he ran a slender finger up your slit and realized just how dry you were, it ruined his fantasy. Though, not enough to deter him. Instead of stopping, Illumi simply pushed your shirt up with your bra, using one hand to massage your breast while he kissed down your sternum and up the soft mound of flesh. His free hand slipped between the two of you, rubbing slow circles around your clit until breathy whines and moans slipped from your lips. Carefully, he teased your nipple between his fingers, simultaneously moving up to your throat until he found the spot that made you gasp and whine in your sleep again. The only downside was despite how badly he wanted to mark you, he couldn't. He had to wait until he securely had you, until then he couldn't leave any visual evidence of his actions. So, he nibbled and kissed the spot, but didn't bite too roughly and claim you. He simply teased you, rubbing your clit, massaging your breasts or hip, and pressing hungry kisses to your unresponsive lips until he could dip his fingers down into your warmth and pull them back coated with a healthy amount of slick. With you properly aroused, he eagerly freed his throbbing dick from his pants, giving himself a few pumps before running the head up and down your slit, making you hum at the stimulation. God, how he relished how your face twitched and you groaned at the feeling of him grabbing one of your legs with one of his hands before pushing into you. God the tight warmth alone could've made him cum, but he once again held himself back. He'd gone this far, he wasn't about to squander the opportunity to indulge himself by not savoring it. No, He simply grabbed your hips once fully inside and began moving, pretty soon slapping his hips into yours roughly. He might regret being so aggressive later, when it undoubtedly left you sore, or at the very least left bruises and scratches, but right now he just enjoyed the way your pussy squeezed around him and your breasts bounced with each rough thrust into your womb. He let out a few soft noises after a bit when the waves of pleasure began fogging over his mind again. The combination of your breathy moans, your warmth squeezing around him, begging to be filled, and the possessive urge to claim you continuously driving him forward, encouraging him to go until the blinding waves of pleasure erupted and he stilled himself so that every drop of cum was safely inside of your womb. It took him longer than usual to regain his composure afterwards, but when he did he swiftly pulled out, pulling his pants up and slipping your panties back onto you before too much of his essence escaped. He grimaced at the marks of his nails on your (s/c) flesh, though hopefully they would fade before you noticed. Right now though, his main priority was to get out of your home, and leave as little evidence as possible, save for his cum. He refused to feel sorry for filling his obviously needy wife with perfectly good semen. That's right. his wife. The phrase seemed to fit perfectly.

#Illumi x reader #yandere illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #yandere #part 6 #fanfiction #quotev #not sfw

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