#well this went in an entirely different direction than I planned

[666writingcafe]

Asmo's Object

The House of Lamentation (8)

MC: I am going to have to return to the human world soon, but before I go, I would like an object from each of you that I can take with me and use to summon you.

I know that I can't just give MC any object. No, it has to be the one item that I treasure above all else, which is a problem.

It didn't use to be. Once upon a time, the most important thing to me was, well, me. So, all I had to do was to give someone a picture of me they could use to summon me, and that would be that.

But I can't do that with MC, because I no longer see myself that way. Don't get me wrong; I still think I'm quite the catch. However, I no longer view myself as the center of my universe.

The simple truth is this: I now hold MC in higher regard than I ever did for myself. They are what I value the most these days, which still feels a bit weird, but also right. Of course I would do anything for them. Why wouldn't I?

I admit all of this to MC, who appears to take it in stride. They don't laugh, nor do they start plotting ways to take advantage of me. Instead, they simply suggest,

"You could take a few pictures of me."

Of course. How could I miss a solution that obvious?

What makes it even better is that I can actually give them a physical copy of a picture, since I still have a instant Doloroid camera in my possession.

Over the next few days, I take as many candid shots of MC as I possibly can. I could have staged a photoshoot for them, but I find that they are most beautiful when they're simply being themselves in all of their natural glory.

Once I feel like I have enough options to choose from, I sort through them, separating viable ones from poor quality ones. The one that I end up presenting to MC is arguably the most simple out of all of them, but it's quintessentially them. The photo shows them sitting cross-legged on their bed with a book in their hand and a soft smile on their face.

That same smile adorns their features as they reach out and hug me, picture still in hand.

"I'll miss you desperately once you're gone," I whisper. "Please don't forget about me."

"Don't worry, Asmo. I won't."

"Good. I love you so much, MC, more than words can even begin to describe."

[afniel]

I have no self control. Like, at all. I told myself to give me at least a week off and I would not hear shit about it.

To be fair the entire contents are currently "Words go here" but still. That's three. Solid start.

Can you blame me though, the Vegas-Indy flight is so boring and I can get so much done during it.

[coconutdays]

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 

you 

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess.  can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 

and other people think the same, he notes. 

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

[thatnewweeb]

Arranged | Todoroki Shoto

Summary | Endeavor and your father both always wanted to be higher in the hero rankings. In case you and Shoto do not achieve those goals, they decided you should enter a Quirk marriage to create an even better Quirk combination. However, you and Shoto didn't want to give into those demands. So how did you end up falling in love?

Content | Smut, fluffy, virginity loss, unprotected sex, aged up Shoto (third year, 18), discussion of marriage, alluded abuse of both Shoto and reader

Word Count | 2.4k+

A/N | I've had this idea for a while, this wasn't the original direction I had in mind, but this is how it went as I wrote. I'm trying to get better at writing smut! At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago

Your Quirk developed when you were 4 and a half years old. Since that day, your life changed, and not for the better. Since that day, you've been training. You've been training hard.

Almost the moment that your Quirk finally developed, your father had made an agreement with the number two hero. His boy had already developed his Quirk, and your father had been waiting for yours to finally appear.

Later that year, you met Endeavor's youngest son, the boy you were told you would later marry, provided everything followed the plan created by your fathers.

The next time you saw him, roughly six months later, he had gained a large facial scar on his left side, although you did not ask about it.

Throughout the next ten years, you saw the boy multiple times, training together on occasion. You had to learn how best to use your Quirks in cooperation with each other, as well as separately. That was somewhat difficult, considering Shoto's refusal to use his fire.

Despite also having a deep hatred of your father, you never refused to use his half of the Quirk you inherited.

Your Quirk is called Cryo-Phasing, giving you the ability to pass through objects, simultaneously freezing them. Your phasing Quirk works a little differently than Mirio's, being unable to pass through the floor.

Your father and Endeavor believed that combining your Quirks in a Quirk marriage could lead to a stronger version of the Ice Quirk, as well as possibly adding Phasing to the mix of Quirks, thus creating an even more powerful child.

It seemed like some things never changed.

At age 15, you were accepted in UA through recommendations, being placed into Class 1-A, the same class as Shoto.

At the beginning of the year, it was unusual for the two of you to speak much, to each other or really to anyone else. You would spend time together, sure, but that was almost purely because you somewhat knew each other already. The only real interactions you had were sitting together during lunch breaks, and training together during class.

You both excelled in academics, combat and Quirk use. Of course, you had both been training for this your entire lives, training with some of the top heroes in Japan, so that was to be expected.

It wasn't until Midoriya helped Shoto to start coming out of his shell that you two started to actually get to know each other. He started to sit with Midoriya and his friends, but he didn't want you to become lonely, so he invited you to join them. Although you were quiet and difficult to get to know, he did hold some level of affection for you already. He figured that you were in a similar position to him, and that you would be able to relate to him and his issues.

During that time, Midoriya and his friends continued to help Shoto come out of his shell and open up to people, and also helped you to begin opening up too.

In particular, you and Shoto opened up to each other a lot.

Once UA implemented the dorm system, you and Shoto spent a lot of time together outside of school hours. It seemed to everyone that you were always together, whether that was in the common areas or one of your bedrooms.

Everyone was convinced that you both had crushes on each other, both being asked many times why you were not dating. Both of you claimed you were only friends.

Neither of you truly knew what it was you felt for each other, both being somewhat emotionally stunted from your upbringings, but you both knew it was something different from what you felt for your other friends. You both wanted to deny these feelings. After all, neither of you wanted to give in to what your fathers wanted for you.

During your second year, you kissed for the first time. Everyone had thrown a birthday party for Shoto, and as everything was winding down and coming to an end, he had snuck away with you and took you to the balcony in his room, claiming he wanted some fresh air.

Once outside, he turned to you and informed you of a conversation he had with his father a few days prior. He had spoken to your father about breaking the marriage arrangement. Your father had been against it, but Endeavor insisted that Shoto is now free to make his own choices. Part of his atonement for his previous actions.

Your father was continuing to try convince Endeavor to change his mind, which is why you hadn't been informed.

He explained that he was still hesitant to give into what his father wanted, even if he had been let free from being basically forced to do them now.

You understood his feelings, of course you did, you'd been struggling with the same thoughts about this as him.

"Well, for now, while we figure everything out, how about we just try this?" you ask him, taking both his hands and stepping closer, leaning up.

He realised what you were doing and leaned down a little, your lips pressing together for the first time. When you went to pull away, his hands let go of yours, moving quickly to wrap around you, keeping you close to him, not letting you move away, or break the kiss.

You don't try fight him on it, arms moving to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his.

Once you finally do break the kiss, he moves one hand up to rest gently on the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder, allowing him to keep you close.

Just a moment later, you were interrupted by a small squeak from inside the bedroom. Shouto apparently hadn't locked the door, and someone had realised the birthday boy was no longer present at his own party, so a few friends had come looking for him. The squeak came from Uraraka, who quickly ran out of the room, being closely trailed by a slightly red Midoriya.

The two of you looked at each other and smiled softly. "I suppose we may have to answer some questions."

He nodded in response to your statement, leaving to re-join the party.

Ashido and Hagakure of course asked if you were dating now, which you both denied. For now, it was simply a kiss.

"Are you going to Endeavor's agency once school is over?" You ask, laying with your bed hanging off the bed, looking at your best friend.

He gives a small nod. "I believe it will be the best place for me to start off." He says before talking a small, sharp breath. "Can we talk about something?"

You raise your eyebrows a little and sit up, patting the bed next to you, where he takes a seat. "Of course, what is it?"

"We're almost finished with UA, and I thought it may be time to finally discuss our relationship, before we leave school."

You take a small breath in this time, feeling a little nervous about what he is about to say. Your crush on the boy had never disappeared, but you never brought up your relationship again, not wanting him to feel pressured into making a choice he wasn't ready to make.

His hands find their way to grip yours gently, keeping eye contact with you. "I would like to go into this new part of our lives together. I am still a little hesitant for us to do what our father want from us, but it's what I want too, and I hope it is what you also want."

You bite your lip, letting go of his hands and throwing your arms around him. "Shoto, I would love that. I have wanted that for years."

He nods silently, one arm wrapping around your back, the other digging into his pocket. A moment later, he pulls a small, cute box out, pulling away from you a little so he can look you in the eyes as he hands the box to you.

"I've had this since I was 15. My father insisted I should give it to you, but I never did. I want you to have it," he says.

Inside is a small ring, with a delicate diamond, dainty and tasteful rather than being large and distracting. You bring your eyes back up to look at his, surprised.

"That ring is simply proof of my love for you. We should take things at my own pace. I'll buy you a ring myself one day. That will be when I really propose."

You smile, once again throwing your arms around him, this time putting your weight behind it to catch him off guard and knock him over.

Before he has a chance to say anything, you plant your lips firmly on his, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek, the other resting on his chest, legs holding you up as his hands immediately find your waist, giving into the kiss without any hesitation.

His fingers grip you tightly, breathing already beginning to get a little heavier. Although he has no experience, it seems as though he knows what to do, at least a little, moving his leg to press between your own.

One hand stays on your waist, the other moving to wrap around your back, holding you close to him and allowing him to press him leg up more, bouncing it softly.

His movements cause a soft moan to escape your lips, muffled by his own.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers breathlessly before connecting his lips to yours once again, seemingly wanting to have all contact he possibly can with you.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip, probing into your mouth, wanting to explore you as much as possible.

Breathlessly, you pull away from the kiss, looking down at him. His heterochromatic eyes stare back up at you, lids low with lust.

You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it to a forgotten corner of the room. His hands quickly find their way back to your waist, biting his lip as he admires you. His staring makes you blush, but you know he's just taking it in.

His hands come up higher and carefully, yet slightly clumsily, undo your bra, slipping it off your body, throwing it in the same general direction as your shirt, quickly moving one hand to your left breast, sitting up and leaning his head to take your right nipple into his mouth.

You bite your lip, moaning softly. Your arm wraps around him, one hand coming up to play with his hair. You give it a gentle tug, making him groan softly.

Carefully, he moves so that you're underneath him, mouth not leaving your breast until your back is pressed against the bed.

Your hands find your way under his shirt, resting on his abdomen, prompting him to discard his too.

He leans down to kiss you once again, hands moving down to undo the shorts you're wearing, shuffling them down your thighs along with your panties. His long fingers drag slowly down your slit.

"You're so wet for me already, baby," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers continue to tease you, dipping slightly into you, but never quite giving you what you want, enjoying your moans as they get increasingly desperate.

You only want more and more as you feel his clothed cock pressing against your thigh.

“Shoto, please,” you whimper, needing more than what he’s giving you.

He chuckles softly. “Because you asked so nicely,” he whispers, slipping two fingers inside you, moving them slowly.

You moan softly, eyes closing and head leaning back. His movements speed up, fingers quickly finding your sweet spot. His thumb moves to your clit, your moans growing louder.

“S-Shoto, so good, so close,” you moan, looking up at him, orgasm building inside you.

Shoto kisses you, tongue finding it’s way into your mouth immediately, swallowing your moans as you get closer and closer to your release.

Then, right before you get there, his fingers suddenly withdraw. Your eyes shoot open and you look up at him, breathless and confused.

He laughs softly. “You look so pretty like that, baby,” He kisses your forehead, unable to resist at the sight of your bemused pout. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied.”

He quickly takes off his pants, his cock straining against his boxers to get out. When he finally lets it free, your mouth falls open slightly at how big he is. You’d expected him to be big, but not that big.

His hand runs up and down his cock a few times, spreading the juices on his fingers onto his cock before pressing up against your hole, which is already missing the fullness of his fingers.

“You ready, beautiful?” he asks you. You nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth.

He slowly pushes his cock into you, taking in a deep breath. “Been waiting so long for this, baby,” he whispers in your ear before moving to kiss your neck.

Your moans sound so sweet in his ear, moving slowly to give you time to adjust to the new stretch. He stills for a moment when he bottoms out inside you, stopping to kiss you.

“Are you ready, beautiful?” he asks you softly. He waits for your confirmation before moving, pulling out a little before thrusting back inside.

He pulls out a little further each time, cock seemingly perfect for finding that sweet spot inside you, as if your bodies are made perfectly for each other.

"You look so pretty for me, baby," he whispers, eyes staying on you, wanting to see your reactions to his movements, enjoying the look of bliss on your face.

You moan each time he thrusts inside you. "Your cock feels so good, baby," you whisper breathlessly.

His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing gently to begin with, rubbing a little harder as he continues.

"I'm getting close, baby," he whispers, breath heavy and small beads of sweat on his forehead. You nod to tell him you are too, moans interrupting your speech when you try to vocalise it.

He rubs harder, moaning as he feels your pussy tighten around him, getting him closer to his own orgasm as you reach your own climax.

Right before he reaches his own high, he pulls out, finishing on your abdomen and thighs.

For a minute, he stays where he is, both breathing heavily and just enjoying the moment.

When he does finally get up, he goes and grabs a warm cloth, cleaning you up, neither of you saying anything.

He climbs onto the bed and lays next to you, wrapping his arm around you. "This was worth the wait," he whispers to you, making you laugh softly.

"I agree."

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Plan: Simon Ghost Riley x f!wintersoldier!reader

"This has to fabricated."

"It's not-"

"What the fuck is going on?"

"This can't be fucking real, Kate. There's no way."

The room had erupted with anger soon after the perpetrator was revealed to be you. After the initial shock came the denial, the anger that every single one of them felt because of the disturbing information that still displayed on the projector.

No one could believe it. No one wanted to.

"It's someone who looks like her." Price declared as he refused to look at the projector. "She's MIA."

"You really believe that, Cap?" Gaz scoffed and though he seemed like he was trying to keep his cool it was easy to see on his face he was just as distressed as everyone else.

Ghost hadn't said a word since his eyes landed on you. He was stuck frozen in his spot, his hands curled into fists that shook slightly as he burned holes into the screen staring at your image.

It was you. He knew the moment Laswell zoomed in on you. He may have avoided looking at any pictures of you he came across but he could never quite forget your eyes, not when he had spent so many times staring at them when you'd sit by his side or when you were across the room from him.

No matter how hard he tried to forget about you, to selfishly convince himself that you were dead so he didn't have to deal with any of the horrible emotions that still wounded him to this day, you were always in the back of his mind. He could truly never forget you.

But even with the shitty quality of the CCTV he could tell that something was different with you. You stood differently, more rigid than he had ever known you to be. From what he could see of your face, you looked hardened and angry, completely different from the last time he had saw you.

But there was no denying it. You were the one who stole the USB.

"It's her." He managed to say through a clenched jaw.

Ghost felt bile in his throat. He could hardly keep his thoughts straight with the storm of emotions that raged inside him. It was like his entire world was crashing down around him and he naively wished this was some horrible nightmare but it was real, all of it was.

"I cannae believe this." Soap mumbled. "She wouldn't...turn on us would she?"

The room went silent again.

You wouldn't. Ghost knew you wouldn't do anything to harm them or betray them, not with how close you were with them before you disappeared. You were loyal, almost to a fault and to even suggest that you would do something to betray the 141 made his blood boil and yet...you had stolen intel from them. Very valuable intel that could end lives.

You were working with some group, a bad group he knew that much, that was in direct opposition with the 141.

"It doesn't matter if she would or not." Laswell tried to keep a level voice but hidden in her eyes was pain and conflict as well. "She stole the intel and we need to get it back."

None of them missed the way she avoided speaking about what they needed to do to you. It seemed like none of them could fully believe that you betrayed them, that you would work against everything that you stood for.

Ghost denied it. You wouldn't do this willingly. You had to have been blackmailed or threatened. That was the only reason he could justify it.

A pit formed in his stomach and his throated tightened at the thought of you with this group, what that could really mean, but he ignored it. He turned to Price and gave him a firm stare, one that he hoped would get his point across.

"When we get the intel back, we're getting her back too." He said it like there was no debate because there wasn't.

Ghost was bringing you back whether Price or Laswell allowed it or not.

Luckily Price nodded and he spared one last glance at you before he looked at Laswell.

"We need to find out who they are." He said and she gave him a look.

She hesitated before she nodded. There was uncertainty in her eyes but she closed her laptop and looked to them all.

"Get into contact with Nik. I'll ask my contacts if they know anything."

When she left the room fell silent. There was nothing any of them could say to each other that would make the situation better, nothing that would help them believe that this wasn;t real.

You were alive. You had reappeared.

And you were against them.

the tag list is closed!

A/n: i hope this makes sense I struggled a little bit. we'll get into the meat of it later on

Tags: @bucky-lents @theweirdgeninistuff @igotchuuknj @rafaelacallinybbay @yyiikes @paintlavillered @tacticalanklebiter3000

[mournings-stars]

Lute x Charlie’s Best Friend

from this request by @lixanjewel

i may need to make a part two cus i kinda love this little enemies to lovers flirtation-situation-ship

this is a fem reader but i’ll happily write anything else as well!! :)

A meeting in Heaven was never something you expected. And you certainly didn’t expect Charlie to ask you to come with her — sure, you’d known each other since you were kids, and sure, you were the first person to support her ideas before Vaggie, and sure, you did a lot of planning…

Maybe you did have a right to go with them—

“Of course you do!” Charlie snapped you out of your thoughts as she packed her suitcase, yours (a backpack) packed and in your hands as you waited for her while you, apparently, thought out loud. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” She was bouncing in place, shutting her suitcase before she turned to you. “And you are gonna be so proud of yourself when we show them this dream is real! I couldn’t have done this without you!” You gave her a small smile before Vaggie came in. “Either of you!”

The rest of the morning was spent saying goodbye, getting that one wall destroyed, and sending your friends off with the person who destroyed it before you entered the portal to Heaven.

After making it past the gates, meeting Saint Peter, Sera, and Emily, you were touring with Charlie while Vaggie stayed at the hotel, the trip seeming to be taking a toll on her. To put it simply, she was in an awful mood, looking like she was going to be sick.

“Look, look, look!” Charlie squealed, pointing at a very fluffy white animal as she grabbed your arm.

That was how your entire trip to the zoo went before you got lunch with Emily, who was the one showing you around. She got the two of you food and drinks and when you went to sit, you cautiously excused yourself to continue looking around while they talked.

You took your drink with you as you walked the promenade, taking in the environment. It made you wonder what it’d be like if things were different — if you were born in Heaven rather than Hell.

“Enjoying your visit?” You were startled out of your thoughts by a girl dressed in all grey. Even her blunt cut hair was a pale grey. You recognized the uniform as an exorcist’s, but you had half a mind to think you were jumping to conclusions without the horns and X over her eye to prove it, but her eyes were gold — and they look far too warm to be so menacing. “Lute,” she introduced before the silence became awkward, sticking her hand out.

“Pretty,” was the first thing that came to your mind. She raised a very judgmental brow at you. “I meant your name… is pretty — well, actually, no, that’s not what I meant, but it is… pretty — like the instrument.” Her brow relaxed, and you sighed, feeling less like Charlie and her bundle of excited nerves and more like yourself and your internal bundle of excited nerves. You introduced yourself and took her hand, shaking with a smile. “I’m usually not so nervous,” you said.

“New environment,” she shrugged. “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested and brought her hand to your back to turn you in the direction you’d been going before she stopped you. “I thought only two of you were coming.”

“Charlie asked me to go with her for moral support.” Lute nodded along. “Childhood friends and all…”

“You’re Hell-born, then,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway. “Shame,” she muttered. “Maybe her little redemption idea could’ve actually worked with you.”

You paused. Surely, she was insulting you. “I should’ve realized,” you said, taking a second look at this angel. She wasn’t just a pretty girl wearing a uniform that resembled an exorcist uniform; it was an exorcist uniform and their LED light masks came with artificial horns. That meant if she knew about the reason for your visit, she was the one that was there during Charlie’s first meeting. And suddenly, the name, “Lute,” sounded very familiar from one of Charlie’s rants.

“I did introduce myself,” she said haughtily, “not that I expect a low-class demon to pick up context clues—“

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. Her very pretty eyes, which looked like gold, now looked like… corn — or something — (it was the meanest thing you could think of), and her very pretty name, which sounded like music, now sounded like some kind of crime you would expect from an exorcist angel.

Lute laughed, taking pause for a moment before she did and nearly doubling over as she walked with you.

“Are you insane?” You asked with a sneer that made her laugh harder.

“No one’s ever told me to shut up like that.” She calmed herself down, snickering to herself. “Insane,” she laughed. “You must be, thinking you can speak to an angel like that.”

“Must be.”

And despite that, she kept walking with you. Neither of you knew where you were walking toward, but you kept walking anyway, her with her nose in the air and a pompous smile, and you looking anywhere but at her.

Finally, you broke the silence, “Were you following me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Orders.”

“Why me?”

“Orders,” she emphasized like you were stupid.

“I heard you,” you mocked her tone. “But why the orders to follow me?” Then a very snarky idea popped into your mind as you smirked at her. “Unless you just blindly follow orders like some little bitch on a leash—“

“Do you want to die?”

It was your turn to laugh, shrugging. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

That, she didn’t respond to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away. “Adam wanted to know why you were actually here, seeing as the hearing only includes the princess and her…” She waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust on her face.

“Partner?”

She shook her head, scoffing. “That relationship is vile.”

You scoffed the same. “Is that something that keeps people out of Heaven, too?” You asked curiously, thinking of the many sinners you knew who seemed nice enough. “Vile relationships like theirs?” Lute frowned at you, looking confused.

“Oh, right,” she said, like she knew something you didn’t, and laughed. “You think I mean because they’re both girls, but thats not it.”

“It’s not?” You raised a brow and took a very long sip of your drink.

“Of course not. They just disgust me.” You laughed ironically, seeing no other answer for her hatred. “I don’t care how they choose to live their lives,” she insisted.

“You don’t need to convince me. We all have our assumptions of what Heaven thinks of people like us. I’m sure some of the… what do you call them? Winners? Said the same things when they were alive.”

Lute looked very uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “No one who thinks like that would be allowed into Heaven.”

“Doubt it. Did you have orders to talk to me, too?” You moved on quickly, making her chew the inside of her cheek.

“Unfortunately.” She huffed. “You do a lot of the princess’ research, don’t you?” You hummed. “Interviews?”

“I don’t like talking to people—“

“Clearly—“

“—who don’t like talking to me.”

“I can tell.” Her uncomfortable expression dropped and she laughed under her breath. “I’m glad I won't have to see you in court later. I don’t know how I’d respond to your accusatory defense.”

“Good thing Charlie didn’t want to take my advice for this, then.”

And Lute stopped walking very abruptly. She gave you a very kind smile and said, “I enjoyed our chat. Thanks for your time.” She looked very pleased, like she made you admit something to help her case.

“You’re welcome for the information,” you said lamely. “Charlie will achieve what she wants, Lute,” you said as she began to walk away.

“Not without your help,” and when she said your name, you quickly turned away from her golden eyes staring you down and walked back to Charlie and Emily.

There was absolutely no way you were about to (extremely gayly) overthink what was barely a conversation with a girl you didn’t like because of one sentence that wasn’t even a compliment.

Absolutely not. No way. Not happening—

“What girl is it this time?” You nearly shrieked when you heard Charlie, having walked all the way back to her and Emily where they were laughing.

“Charlie told me you have a talent for falling in love,” Emily giggled with Charlie. “Did you meet someone?”

“Or are you just talking to yourself?” Charlie teased, laughing.

Of course, all you could think to say was, “shut up,” which made you think back to the not-conversation you had with Lute. “Don’t we have a hearing to prepare for, or something?!”

[mambalae-s]

sugar — geto suguru x reader

wc: 4.3k

cw: ceo! geto x employee! reader; unprotected sex; office sex; semi public sex; reader is described as a black woman; she’s not explicitly called chubby but she is described as plump; creampies; oral (reader) receiving; one instance of spitting; one instance of choking; mating press; a sir kink you dont have to squint too hard to find; not at all proof read; if i’m missing anything, please let me know!

notes from author: yeah, this went an entirely different direction than what i had planned… this is an nsfw post — if you’re under 18, PLEASE do not interact with this post. i will block you.

suguru’s certain you have no idea the kind of effect you have on him. he’s so entirely convinced that you’re oblivious to his struggle to merely contain himself with you sitting across his mahogany desk, dark stockings hugging your plump thighs and that short, a-lined skirt just barely sitting over your lap. you wear your hair like a regalia, beautiful, thinly done tresses of black braids half-tied at the back of your head where the rest flowed down each side of your body, the ends of them elegantly curling while you’d left two braids to frame both sides of your face — a style called french braids, he’d learned when he’d asked you curiously.

his mind is so far gone from words of acquisitions and business meetings that you read from your prepared document, eyes zoned in on your plump, full lips that glisten on strawberry flavoured gloss. he’s so distracted by the ‘o’s formed on your sweet voice, every sentence sinking themselves beneath his skin like drops of honey that rush through his veins and churns within his blood like a drug. he leans back into his chair, throwing his head back in unhidden frustration and releases a groan, and the sound of it snaps your attention from black printed words to look up at your ceo.

“sir?” you call him, hesitant. you cock your head to the side worriedly. “i’m sorry, is it not how you want to proceed?”

suguru shakes his head weakly, brushing his thumb over his lips. “no, no,” he assures you, “that’s not it at all. you’ve done great, in fact. it’s perfect.” he sees the way your brows furrow over your dark coloured eyes, the way your lips part on words you don’t let out, and suddenly, he feels too hot. “i’m sorry, ms. (l/n). it’s just especially hard for me to focus right now.”

“oh, i understand.” you utter, shifting to sit a little straighter in your chair. the action causes your breasts to shift beneath your low-cut blouse as you close your manilla folder. and suguru, he has to remind himself to breathe. “well, we do have some time before the board meeting if you’d rather we look over the details some other time?”

suguru hums in agreement as he stands, forcing his eyes off you and walking over to the left wall where he keeps a fine array of wines and expensive liquor. “yes, let’s do that then.” his hands reach for a bottle he knows you enjoy most out of his collection, an itallian imported masseto merlot. he reaches for two wine glasses and turns to you, offering you one to take. “how about we enjoy a drink for now?”

you rise from your seat to stand next to him, taking the cup from his hands. he wonders if you’d felt your fingers brush against his, if you’d perhaps done it intentionally to tease him. ah, but he knows you better than that — even now as you hold your cup out for him to fill, he knows that you’re far too shy to ever think of trying anything with him, your boss. you’re always the respectful and diligent worker, always and ever doing your best to meet his expectations and go beyond. he’d be lying if he tried to say he didn’t look forward to seeing you every day, or that he dreamt of doing unspeakable things to you right here inside his office. even standing this close to him, suguru feels his pants tighten at the uninhibited view he has of your plump figure, your breasts tempting him as he loses himself on your sweet scent of fresh linen and honey oats.

“is there something on your mind, sir?” unaware of the thoughts clouding his mind, you innocently flutter your eyes to peer up at him with your glossy lips pursed atop your glass. he watches you take a sip of the dark red liquid and thinks about it wetting your mouth, imagines the satisfied sigh as something far dirtier, unprofessional, and how you would sound with your legs folded against your chest. he imagines all the ways you’d cry out for him, to beg him for more until he turned you into a whiney mess.

“it’s just…” again, he clears his throat. he reaches one hand up to loosen his tie, showing off the expensive watch on his left wrist. “been a long week, that’s all.”

your lips form a sympathetic pout as you lower your glass to your chest, your forearms unconsciously squeezing your breasts together and, have mercy— how can you make the dirtiest things look so innocent? “i’m sorry, mr. geto,” you offer, “i’ll certainly try harder to make things a little easier for you… is there anything i can do for you?”

“oh, no, miss (l/n), you’ve already been such a great help to me—” he stops himself midway, his dark eyes turning thoughtful as he considers. the idea that pops into his head is an awful one, he gives himself second enough to consider. but, what is he supposed to do when you stand so close to him, eyes innocently looking up at him, your very breath hanging onto his words? here you are right in front of him, so open and willing to help him, and perhaps— no, not just. suguru’s certain you don’t mean your words in the way that he thinks, but the very sight of you, the thoughts he has of you late at night and even now, it overwhelms him and tells him to cast aside all logic and give in to viscous wanting.

suguru quietly draws a breath, sets his glass down atop his desk and bites the bullet.

“well… there is something you could do for me.” one, two, it only takes him three short steps until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough for the smell of your sweet, honey-scented oils to fully wrap around him and fill up his lungs. his figure basically shadows your much smaller frame, towering over you as your eyes nervously met his. he focuses on the way your brown lips hang open slightly, on the way your pretty eyebrows furrow over your expression. he focuses on the deep breaths you take that cause your chest to rise and swell, lets himself go on the slight squeak in your voice when you hesitantly call him.

“sir…?”

“what if, ms. (l/n),” suguru hums, reaching his hand to your own glass of wine, intentional when his fingers cover yours. “i told you that you’re what’s been distracting me all along?” like a hawk, he observes every flicker of thought that crosses your dark brown eyes. first, he watches them widen on surprise, then they waver back and forth before lowering to where he held your hand, the deep red colour of your merlot surely not what holds your attention. you’re flustered, he knows it by the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, but he’s not kind enough to let you hide that beautiful expression from him. slowly, as if not to scare you, he takes his fingers and holds on to your chin, tilting your head to where you had no choice but to meet his stare.

“i— i’m,” you pause, your lips trembling so deliciously, your breath ghosting against his skin like an autumn’s gentle breeze. “i’m not sure what you mean… mr, geto…”

“you aren’t?” suguru lowers his voice to a whisper. he imagines he could hear your heart thumping inside your chest, that he could feel your pulse racing underneath your skin, and he wants more of it, wants more of you. “let me show you exactly what i mean then, ms. (l/n).”

he tells himself to be gentle as he leans in, tilting your head up so that his lips meet yours finally, finally— and suguru nearly loses himself to the sensation of being swept off his feet. gods, you’re even sweeter than you’ve ever tasted inside his dreams, the living flesh and bone version of you kissing him back so softly as if you’d walked right out of his fantasies and come to find him at daylight. he can sense the hesitance behind your lips, an uncertainty weak to your own desires as you lean further into him. your hands reach for his chest and you pull away with a breathlessness, gasping as you look up at him, showing to him your worries, your fear, your mutual want.

“mr. geto, we shouldn’t do something like this here,” you whisper as if afraid your words would be heard by someone passing by. though suguru could tell that, if he pushed, you wouldn’t be able to resist. your fingers feebly grasp at his arms, bunching up the white fabric covering his biceps and, oh— you pull him closer, yet not close enough to close the gap. he looks at you and sees it then, in the way your lips pout up at him, that—

“you want this too, don’t you?”

he touches a hand to your cheek and feels heat radiating from you in waves. pulling you closer, he brings that hand to cup the back of your neck and revel in the feel of you being so close to him, your chest so soft against his as his other hand falls to squeeze your hip. gently, he tilts your head to one side to expose your neck and he lets himself be greedy, leaning to drag his nose against your bare skin, lips just slightly parted so that you could feel his warm breath ghosting against your cheek.

your knees nearly buckle beneath your weight and you have to squeeze on to his biceps even tighter, for fear that you would collapse if you don’t hold on tight. “y-yes…” you quietly gasp once he finally presses his lips to your skin. the feeling of him harshly sucking your neck is enough to cause your head to spin, for your legs to clench together at the new heat that pools in your panties. you feel him begin to press forward, and as you step back, he chases you, pushing you until the back of your thighs hit his desk. the sensation of cold wood is stark against the waves of searing heat that pours from the both of you and you stumble for a moment, accidentally knocking his pristine ceo plaque to the red carpet below.

“then,” suguru’s voice sounds slurred. his words are heavy and he sees the way they weigh you down as his fingers skillfully pull the first buttons of your blouse. he takes in the picture of you with reverence and worship as greed swirls within his gut, tightens his pants and makes him forget anything that didn’t have to do with you. with one hand, he pushes you further until you’re sitting on top of his desk and leans in once more, ever more wanting to feel your lips on his. “don’t think about anything else right now. just focus on me, yeah?”

dazed, it’s all you can do to nod ‘yes’ as he slots himself between your open legs, his hands squeezing down on your hips and pulling you forward until his bulge presses right up against your core.

it’s hard hold himself back any further, and suguru abandons his inhibitions as he hungrily slots his mouth against yours, the kiss almost universes different than the last. where before, he’d been experimental, testing the waters almost and tasting you for the first time, he now devours your very soul like a man starved of water and you, his fountain found in a scorching desert. his lips are searing as they move, and he pours so much into you that it becomes too much and it burns so deliciously, filling you until whimpers slip out from you and your hands hungrily pull apart his buttons. his nails dig into your thighs as he bites down on your bottom lip and pulls before he begins to press kisses against your cheek, trailing wet, impatient lines of spit along your jaw.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” its almost a growl when he speaks, low and dangerous as he feels himself slipping further. his teeth sink into your dark skin and he sucks, hard, relishing in the moans that you reward him with. “how badly i wanted to have you till i couldn’t sleep at night.”

“s-sir wait,” you try to call him, struggling to find your words amidst the fog clouding your brain. he’s sucking your skin so much that you fear he’ll leave marks, yet your voice seems to only urge him to leave more. “not there, people will see— ngh!”

he doesn’t pull apart when he grinds his bulge against you, letting you feel just how big and hard he’d gotten for you. each move he makes sends you reeling, the pool between your legs enough to soak you right through your stockings as he rolls his hips into yours.

“focus,” suguru reprimands you, lowly growling into your neck. “all your attention on me right now. do you understand?”

when you take too long to respond, he pushes one hand around your neck and squeezes, causing you to squeal as he pulls your head back to face him. your mouth hangs open, gasps of air struggling to make it past his hands, his spit smeared all across your lips, cheek and neck with the beginnings of purple bite marks forming on your dark skin — you’re the perfect picture of a mess, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over by lust and desire, so far gone from your normally neat and put together appearance, and it’s all because of him.

“understand?” he bleeds the word slowly, and, feeble, you respond with a desperate nod of your head, barely managing to force out a ‘yes sir..!’ through his grip around your throat. you try to squeeze your legs around his waist, wanting to pull him closer, to feel his cock pressed against you once more, for any kind of friction, but one hand swiftly pries them wide apart as his fingers snake between them. startled, you try to squeeze them close, though your body quickly loses its strength when his slender digits press up against your dampened core.

god, you’re already so fucking wet, you’re dripping enough to leave dark coloured stains atop his wooden desk. suguru marvels at the feeling of your slick practically pooling along his fingers, coating them as he rubs slow, teasing circles over your clothed pussy. “look at that,” he says breathlessly before pulling his hands away to lick at them, and the taste of your essence causes his cock to twitch against their restraints. popping his fingers out of his mouth, he shoves them past your gaping lips for you to swirl your tongue around, a groan escapes him once you begin to suck and whimper around them. “fuck, (y/n), you’re making it hard for me to control myself.”

his thumb brushes against your lip and he pulls your mouth open, dizzy when you eagerly open your mouth for him to spit into. “such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he grins as you swallow with a moan, “yeah? never dreamed i’d see you do something like this, ms. (l/n). were you thinking about something like this everytime we spoke? hm?”

a sharp ripping sound startles you, though you hardly have the chance to regain your bearings as suguru finally touches you in the place you need him the most. your pussylips are basically sopping and so, incredibly swollen, your clit so eager for him to touch you when he presses his thumb against it. “f-fuck…!” you throw your head back, hissing and biting your bottom lip to contain your cries, all while suguru marvels at seeing you unravel. you’re completely under his control like this, a pretty little doll in the palm of his hands that he could toy and play with until your mind would crumble. the revelation blazes through him like a wildfire and swirls like a ferocious torrent — more, he wants — needs — you to break even more.

“i want an answer, (y/n). how badly did you want me to fuck you all this time?”

you try to respond, though your words fall apart on a weak, wavering cry of his name as he sinks two fingers inside you, feeling them split apart your walls before pulling back out slowly. he uses his knees to keep your legs from clamping shut while his free hand slips your bra up over your chest, letting your full mounds fall freely for him to squeeze. large, brown nipples perk up under the exposure of the cold air, pointy and sensitive beneath his thumb when he pinches one and softly twists. he groans, nearly panting, your pussy clamping down around his middle and ring fingers. “you’re so fucking tight, you’re just leaking and making such a mess. must’ve been waiting for me to fuck this pretty little cunt, huh?”

“nngh, sir..!” oh, those pretty little cries you make would be the end of him. he wants more, wants you to fall apart utterly and completely until your mind would be blank and you would be nothing but a blabbering mess. he wants to feel you, taste you, to devour you whole.

swiftly, he drops down to his knees and spread your legs wide open, one on each of his shoulder for him to see your messy cunt. he’s mesmerized at the view of you, sopping and dripping as your hole squelches around nothing, greedily begging for him to take it and make it his.

above him, you’re barely able to register his movements before you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth hungrily sucking your pussy, and it catches you so off guard that you release a loud cry of his name. “suguru…!”

“shhhh. shhh, baby,” the man doesn’t stop for even a second, muttering the words right up against you and sending shockwaves through your core. desperate to keep your voice down, you clamp your hands over your mouth as you feel his tongue flicker against your swollen clit, back and forth before he begins sucking and lapping. your essence pools all over his tongue and suguru feels himself getting drunk, diving his tongue between your folds while his fingers drill in and out of your hole, filling the large office with sloppy, slurpy noises as he coaxes ever single drop he can out of you.

despite you trying, you fail to hold your voice back as the coil within your gut tightens and your vision grows spotty. his fingers repeatedly brush against that spot deep inside your cunt that makes you see stars and you can’t catch your breath. your moans turn into strangled cries as your legs clench around his head, and you can’t pay any mind to how tightly you’re squeezing him between your plump thighs as you grip his hair to pull him closer. “aah..! aghn! nnngh..! fuck, sir, i’m close…!” your hips begin to buck as you chase your end, desperate for your climax as he groans between your legs and sets a relentless pace with his tongue and hands. he focuses his mouth on your clit while his fingers stretch and fuck your cunt and you taste like honey, pouring into his mouth as he laps it all up and milks you for everything you could give him.

“cum for me, princess.” his muffled voice shoots through your core like lightening, and you feel that coil in your gut reaching its height. you’re almost there, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close— “make a mess all over daddy’s face, come on. thaaaat’s it, baby, gimme all of it… don’t hold back and fucking squirt for me.”

he curls his fingers inside you, and the coil snaps like a bullet shot right through you. your orgasm crashes into your body as every muscle inside you seizes, your cries and whimpers unrestrained and nearly deafening. tremours reck through your figure as suguru coaxes everything out of you with sweet praises, till you squirt all over his face and fingers and you collapse against his desk, sending several important documents and utensils clattering against the carpet.

“shit…!” your eyes barely register suguru’s form hastily rushing to his feet, stumbling and lightheaded, his face and shirt absolutely drenched in your cum as his fingers unbuckle his belt. you see his cock spring out from his boxers when he pulls them down, and in your fucked out daze, you admire how pretty it looks. the pink tip smacks against his toned stomach, the length of it thick and twitching as he grips your thighs and he’s so fucking big. fuck, you start to panic, but your body’s far too weak for you to move quickly, barely able to lean up against your elbows while he folds your legs up against your chest — “wait, sir, not yet, i— haaah!”

your mind blanks, your vision shoots white as his cock bullies its way into your pussy, still sensitive from him eating you out before and a cry erupts out from your chest. above you, suguru’s expression contorts and he groans loudly as he sinks deeper into your cunt. your gummy walls clench down on him as if to keep him out, squeezing him so tightly that his knees nearly give out underneath him. “aaaahh, fuck, (y/n), your pussy feels so fucking good.”

he’s too impatient to give you time to adjust, you just feel so good clamping down on him the way you do and he pounds you, fucking into you relentlessly while you writhe and cry beneath him. “fuck!! sir—!! s-slow down— ahh! haah! ‘m still— still sensitive— ngaahh!”

“sorry, princess.” he huffs, folding your legs further down into your chest and pivoting his pelvis to reach inside you deeper, deeper until he pounds your cervix and you jolt as if you’d been shocked. you have to grab the edge of the desk to keep yourself from sliding from underneath him as he relentlessly fucks into you. “your pussy jus’ feels too good, fuck. ‘s like this pretty cunt was made jus’ for my cock.”

how perfect you look folded underneath him like this, breasts bouncing and tears pooling from your eyes as your body trembles and shakes from the overstimulation. how your hair messily flails underneath you, your clothes all bunched up and your stockings shredded and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you senselessly wail, fuck, you look so damn hot. “i know you can take it princess,” he coons, stilling his hips as he pushes all the way inside you, pinning you down when you try to squirm. “c’mon, pretty girl…” slowly, he pulls out and slams back into you — once, twice, over and over, each time your walls tightening and squeezing ravenously. “you got this. you’re doing so good for me, soooo so good. you like how my cock feels inside baby? does it feel good fucking up your pretty little pussy?”

“yes…!” with teary eyes, you look up at him, your response short of senseless and incomprehensible as you choke out a sob through your pleasure. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sir, feels so fucking good!”

“shhh, shhh, i know baby,” suguru coos down at you, grinding slow, sweet circles against your core before picking up his pace. the sudden change catches you unprepared and you shout, hands flailing to his biceps and clawing into his skin as he caged your body beneath him. “you’ve been so good for me already, aah, can you gimme one more? cum one more time for me pretty baby, jus’ one more for me.”

as if at his command, you feel that familiar tension take hold of your body as he drills into your cunt, so sudden and without warning as it crashes over you. you squeal, babbling his name over and over as your pussy creams all over his cock, your gasps drawing little air as your orgasm tears through you and leaving you breathless.

“thaaaaat’s it, shit. just like that.” he praises you through stuttering breaths, cooing at you sweetly as you come dkw. from your high. you’re positively fucked out of your mind with tears falling freely from your eyes and drool smearing your cheeks, snd the sight of you like this beneath him, the feeling of your pussy milking around his cock, it’s enough to send him over the edge.

“fuck…!”

his body twitches as his cum spurts inside your pussy, warm and thick and so, so much of it comes out, painting your insides white. your chests heaving in unison, suguru finally collapses on top of your chest, and he’s just every bit of a mess as you are. both of you are absolutely spent of every drop, endorphins coursing through your veins as the adrenaline exists your systems. your eyes seek out his to find him already staring at you with a cheeky grin, your own face flushing with embarrassment while he presses butterfly kisses against your stomach.

“d-did, um…” it’s hard to get the words out, your lungs still very much fighting for air, but you cheekily grin at the man, your boss, kneeling between your legs, and dare to allow your hands to run through his disheveled hair. “was i… able to help?”

suguru weakly chuckles, and your heart flutters a bit at the sight of crinkles forming on his nose. “you did, (y/n).” smiling, he rises to his feet and leans down to kiss you, pressing a hand down on your tummy and pushing down. he feels you writhing beneath his palm as his cum leaks out of you. “trus’ me, ‘s just what i needed.”

© mambalae-s — rb’s + feedback are greatly appreciated!

[vixstarria]

Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going. 

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more! 

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2. 

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit 

Approximately 2,000 words. 

AO3

 

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.  

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached. 

Brooding. Definitely brooding.  

“Looking for something.” 

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?” 

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack” 

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.  

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.  

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.  

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”  

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?” 

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.” 

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry. 

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.  

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?” 

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?” 

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” 

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.” 

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.” 

“In the middle of the night?” 

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night” 

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.” 

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.  

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.” 

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?” 

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.” 

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.  

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly. 

“...No, I don’t” he said absently. 

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.  

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.” 

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued. 

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered. 

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back. 

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.  

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.  

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.” 

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection. 

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.  

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away. 

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.” 

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past. 

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.  

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders. 

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion. 

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!” 

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”  

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.  

“No.” 

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.  

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.” 

“If this involves setting me on fire again...” 

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.  

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries” 

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze” 

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.  

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.  

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time” 

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both. 

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.  

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence: 

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”  

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale. 

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.” 

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓

summary: the plan was to spend a chill movie night at the castle but when was the last time anything went according to plan in the devildom?

pairing: dragon! barbatos x afab reader (gn/no pronouns used)

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, dragon! barbatos, dom! barbs , aphrodisiac spit (idc if i made it up, deal with it), double penetration, two cocks, monster + tail fucking, breeding kink, oviposition, cream pie, pool sex, marking, a little bit of possessiveness (as a treat)

a/n: this is part of a low-key collab between @majoliish and me (aka we worked off the same setting and then branched off); i will update this with the link to his fic once he posts dia's part ♡

obey me! masterlist

The golden gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle swung open, revealing the grand hallway leading you inside. Awaiting you was, of course, none other than the royal butler, Barbatos. You couldn’t help the grin spreading on your lips as you skipped up the last steps to meet him, grateful for the warmth radiating against the frigid night air. 

“Good evening,” Barbatos greeted, slightly bowing, despite how often you told him not to. “It is most fortunate you could meet the Young Master and I for our Halloween movie night. As you are aware, the Young Master wished to spend the night before his grand birthday party learning more about human culture, so we appreciate you making the time for us.”

“No need to make it so formal, Barbatos, you know I’ve been looking forward to seeing you guys. You’re always terribly busy after all,” you laughed as he led you inside. The castle was lit entirely with candles tonight, making your shadows flicker as you walked.

“You are no better in that regard, always trying to reign in those brothers. It cannot be easy either.” When you entered what in other houses might be considered the living room, the smell of buttery popcorn, pumpkin spice and baked goods filled your senses.

“Wow, Barbs, speaking of busy, how many hours did you slave away in the kitchen for this?” You breathed in deeply, savouring the delicious aroma. “I can’t wait to ruin all your hard work by eating it. It smells divine.” 

“Oh please, this was nothing. There  would be no better compliment than enjoying yourself.” With practised ease, Barbatos helped you out of your coat, taking in the costume you were pulling at nervously with his malachite eyes studying you. “I must say, you look lovely tonight, as always. Though I’m afraid to say it is not fear my heart is shaking with.” 

“Thanks,” you stammered out, one hand bashfully rubbing your neck. 

You took this opportunity to take in Barbatos’s appearance as well. On first glance, his costume would pass for an ordinary demon form, however, his normally delicate looking horns had been replaced with ones growing backwards, branching out like sleek corals, and his ears had elongated into translucent fins. Different hues of blue and teal draped around him, the silky texture of his clothes shimmering with every motion and reminding you of the ocean.

Patches of scales were visible on his cheeks and collarbones, shimmering different shades of turquoise and aquamarine as he moved. As a nice surprise he had also removed the gloves he’d usually wear, showcasing claws that looked sharp and were probably sharper. Most intriguing of all, however, was the scaled tail swishing under layers of flowy, wave-like fabric. While it resembled his demon form in colour, the texture was completely different and it reached way further than normal.

“Wow, Barbatos, you look amazing,” you said, in awe at his graceful appearance. He was already a fascinating demon under normal circumstances but on this night it was hard to tear your eyes away from him. 

“Your high praise is ever so delightful, I shall remember it.” Again he bowed politely, the gesture smooth and elegant. “The Young Master and I have settled on the theme of dragons, though we both directed our focus on different kinds. As you can see, I have taken on the appearance of an aquatic dragon.”

Speaking of Diavolo, he met up with you shortly after, sporting a red and golden costume that played into his already dragon-like features and made him look even more impressive than usual. But in typical Diavolo fashion he was nothing but sweet as he greeted you, his joyful laughter bouncing off the wall as he gladly shared his excitement with you.

“Oh right, I almost forgot! I brought some snacks too!” You pulled various treats from your bag, some of them procured from the Human Realm with Solomon’s help but also a pack of chocolates Asmo had given you. “I know they don’t compare to Barbatos’s creations but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

“No, this is great!” Diavolo grinned, inspecting the candies from your world. “The purpose of this get-together is to learn about your culture after all.”

“Indeed, these provide a most valuable insight.” Quickly transferring them into various bowls, Barbatos set them up on the table in front of the biggest TV you had ever seen, before turning back to the two of you. “Shall we begin our movie night then?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for tight?” You laughed as you settled on the couch, Diavolo and Barbatos on each side of you. With a flick of his hand, Barbatos dimmed the flicker of the candles to a dim light, creating the kind of spooky atmosphere expected of a Halloween movie night.

It was nice to see some classic films from your world while trying everything laid out in front of you. Obviously Barbatos’s baking tasted even better than it smelled and you could have eaten every last piece of it, but the chocolates you brought were pretty decent as well, your companions agreeing.

All in all, it was just the kind of relaxing night you didn’t get often around here and which you desperately needed.

Half-way through your second film, you’d noticed Barbatos shift rather often, which was unusual for someone as composed as him, to say the least. He’d assured you everything was alright, that it was just the unfamiliar attire that took some getting used to. Still a little sceptical, you turned back to the movie and tried to trust his judgement.

The heat radiating from both sides was getting harder to justify by the two just being demons and your concerns were proven right when Barbatos, of all demons, excused himself and took an awful amount of time just to never come back.

You apologised to the prince as you got up to search for the butler yourself. Something was definitely wrong and if there was someone who was predestined to uncover it, it would be you. The only problem: the castle was huge and Barbatos was more skilled at appearing and disappearing wherever and whenever he liked.

The halls were eerily silent, making your steps echo loudly in your ears despite the plush carpets. Every few metres you looked over your shoulder when the flicker of your own shadow or the branches moving outside the window caught your attention from the corner of your eye. Whenever a particularly strong gust of wind howled and rattled the windows, your steps hastened just a little bit.

When you had already opened just about every door and checked every room you came across, you were about to give up. Clearly, Barbatos didn’t want to be found, so what were the chances that you could?

You pushed open the heavy door to the palace pools, inhaling the distinguishing smell associated with pools and feeling the humidity in the air. The moon was full and high in the sky as it shone its silver light through the round centre of the all-glass window front and the waves broke the light, reflecting a hypnotising pattern onto the walls.

It might have gone unnoticed under the moonlight but a splash in the water alerted you to the presence in the room. There, in the centre of the pool, teal hair floated through the water, the long flowy fabric of Barbatos’s costume moving around him like the iridescent tentacles of a jellyfish.

“Barbatos!” You exclaimed, already at the edge of the pool by the time his name fully left your lips. Of course, his attention was already on you; he never could have missed you entering the room. “There you are! I was so worried, you know. But it’s an odd time to take a dip… not that I’m judging you or anything.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” the demon chuckled, a low and melodic sound that had your heart melting. “Although I assure you I would not be here if it was not strictly necessary to my predicament.”

“Your predicament?” You questioned, squatting down to be closer to him. “What’s going on? Are you ill or something?”

“Your concern warms my heart, truly,” he smiled. From up close you could see the scales that looked so realistic glistening with the water drops that dripped from his hair. In the moonlight they looked like they were made of precious gemstones and you couldn’t help but think how good he looked like this. Extending a courteous hand to you, his stunning eyes found yours. “Why don’t you join me and I'll show you what I mean? I promise there’s nothing dangerous about it.”

Without hesitating you put your hand in his, fully trusting him. Then you realised how detailed his costume was. You hadn’t noticed earlier but the colour of his teal nails extended onto his fingers as well, right about to the second knuckle, contrasting the translucent webbing spanning between his fingers. 

Then he pulled you into the water and steadied you by the waist when you jumped because of the chill. You could feel his claws digging into your hips through the wet clothes sticking to your skin. But you hardly had time to think about it as you were already drifting through the water, securely held in Barbatos’s grip, who was cutting through the water as if it was nothing. Sure, he always looked effortless but it was as if he didn’t even need to move his legs.

That was when you felt it. Amongst the tingling sensation of his silky attire wafting around your legs, something strong and scaly brushed against your calf. You of course saw the tail earlier but it was just a costume, surely it shouldn’t be this functional… or this long.

“You seem rather speechless, what is the matter?” Spinning you around as you came to a stop, his chest pressed against your back, your hand still in his grasp. His voice was low as his lips rested near your ear, the vibrations of his voice travelling down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when I found out I had turned into the very thing I was masquerading as this entire evening.”

“W-What?” You stuttered, trying to wrap your head around this new piece of information as Barbatos’s lips attached themselves to the skin behind your ear. “You turned into a dragon? How?”

“Because of you, my dear. Or rather, because of those chocolates you brought. An accident perhaps,” he muttered as his mouth travelled down the side of your neck and lavished the juncture where your neck met your shoulder with attention. “Or perhaps you knew full-well of the effects it had and it was a deliberate move on your part? No matter what is the case, are you ready to face the consequences of the situation you have put me in?”

“The consequences?” You airily asked, focusing on keeping your thoughts in line as Barbatos leaned over you and started trailing kisses all over your jaw. The hand that was on your waist all this time had moved to hold the other side of your face, angling your head the way he pleased. This dominant side of Barbatos made you thank the stars that your knees couldn’t buckle as you melted into his hold.

“Looking at you, I’m certain you are already aware,” the demon said, though he still pressed his hips into your backside for emphasis. The feeling of the big bulge straining against his clothes had you stifling a moan by biting your bottom lip. “If I may be so bold to read your reaction, you want this too, do you not? If not, you should voice it now as I can feel my self-restraint slipping.”

There was no denying it, you had been dreaming of having Barbatos like this since you had gotten to know him. Something about the butler had captivated you and your interest had only grown the more time you spent around him. And though you would never admit it, the image of his skilled fingers doing other things than preparing tea had filled your mind on more nights than one. Even if he wasn’t completely himself right now, you would not be idiotic enough to pass up this chance.

“Barbatos, please,” you all but whimpered, trying to grind your hips back against him in the water, your fingers grazing over the fin on his ear as you reached back for him. His groan sounded like music to your ears and you could feel the arousal starting to pool below your navel. 

“What are you pleading for, my dear?” Barbatos whispered, his lips almost brushing yours now as he pulled you even closer to him. “What are you thinking of? Tell me, so I can make it become reality.”

“Please touch me, Barbatos,” you begged, aware how needy you sounded when he hadn’t even done anything yet. “I need you to.”

“As you wish,” he approved before slotting his lips against yours. They were slippery from the water but still pillowy-soft and soon you were humming against them. As if to swallow your noises, Barbatos parted his mouth and you felt a split tongue flick against the seam of your lips.

You easily granted him access, allowing him to tangle his tongue with yours but you had underestimated his transformation, which granted him an inhumanly long appendage to map your mouth out with. Occasionally, your tongue would bump into the tip of one of his fangs and it sent a shiver down your spine. When you parted to allow oxygen back into your lungs, rather than water, it was your shared saliva coating his lips and connecting you both by a string.

“So soft and obedient…” Babatos groaned as he nipped at your shoulder, sharp fangs grazing the skin but not breaking it. Turning you to face him, he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist as he moved you through the pool again. “No wonder demons fall for humans’ temptations so easily. You make it incredibly difficult to control myself.”

Shortly thereafter, the edge of the pool dug into your back as your demon started working on freeing your body from your costume. Uncharacteristically enough, instead of meticulously peeling you out of it, the loud sound of ripped fabric could be heard over the rippling water. Whatever was left of your clothes was carelessly tossed somewhere onto the floor, Barbatos too busy licking and sucking all over your collarbones and chest to care.

As you were stripped bare piece by piece for his eyes to drink up, you rolled your head back when his tongue literally wrapped around one of your pebbled nipples, making you gasp. Threading your hand into his teal locks, you gave them a harsh tug when his mouth closed fully around your areola, no doubt leaving a red ring of imprints around it. To keep you steady as your back arched into his touch, you felt pinpricks of his claws digging into your hips, the pain making you moan out in lust. 

Seemingly drawn in by the noise and determined to coax more of them from you, Barbatos connected your lips again in an open mouthed kiss that felt filthier than the first one as he crowded you against the edge of the pool, pressing his hips into your swivelling ones. The more he kissed you the foggier your mind became, slick starting to ruin your underwear which was clinging to your folds. It also loosened your inhibitions, having you moan freely and making you beg without shame as long as he touched you.

“You are truly magnificent,” he whispered as if it was something only deemed fit for your ears to hear. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his wandering fingers, claws grazing your skin as light as feathers, the ghost of his touch spreading across your entire body. “The finest works of art do not compare to you. It’s my deepest pleasure to have you all to myself and leave my mark on your beauty.”

“More, please, more,” you whimpered and Barbatos would be a fool not to give you exactly what you wanted when you were giving yourself to him so freely.

“Such a good human, already begging me so sweetly,” he crooned against your temple, water droplets from his hair landing on your feverish skin. With a quick swipe of his claws, the restricting fabric of your bottoms and underwear fell away and you sighed at the cool sensation of the water enveloping your heat. “Anything for you.”

You felt weightless as Barbatos lifted you out of the water to settle you on the edge, then swam closer to take his rightful place between your legs. Even if you wanted to close them out of embarrassment, you couldn’t, not with his strong, webbed hands keeping you spread wide open for him as his nails dimpled the fat of your thighs. To steady yourself and avoid keeling over, your fingers found their way back into his hair, this time grabbing hold of the base of his horn.

The tips of his tongue flicked around the inside of your thighs, gradually wandering closer to where you wanted him most but in your opinion he was needlessly drawing it out. By now, your muscles were twitching in need at his sweet torture and your fingers tightened around his horn. In return, a sharp nip into the inside of your thigh jerked your hips and heat shot through your veins.

“Patience, my dear,” he reprimanded, eyes sharp as he looked up at you. You could see his tail flick behind him, the fin and tapered tip breaking the surface of the water every now and then. “I need to prepare you well for what’s to come or you’ll struggle to take all of me.”

In response, you clenched around nothing, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the dragon in front of you. His eyes attentively tracked the way your slick gathered on his fingers as he carefully ran a digit through your slit, careful not to nick you with his claws. Your entire being seized up when he put pressure on your neglected clit which only started pulsing more intensely under his treatment.

The tongue you had grown to love slipped past his lips and lapped your arousal from his own digits making him sigh. “You already smelled delicious but you taste so much more exquisite. I have to get a proper taste if you offer something so sweet to me.”

Just from watching him, an embarrassing amount of slick had started to soil the tiles you were sitting on and you couldn’t remember ever being this worked up before. So it felt like heaven when Barbatos’s tongue finally came into contact with the sensitive skin around your core. For a moment you thought he’d tease you further but he decided to be merciful and drag the appendage through the length of your slit, the tip pressing down on your clit after the delightful reaction you had shown him earlier.

If you thought the butler was already skilled with his fingers you had severely underestimated his oral capabilities. When he’d drenched your core in his spit to his satisfaction, your folds even more susceptible to his every touch now, he wasted no more time diving into your heat.

“Barbatos!” Your gasp of his name echoed around the otherwise empty pool area and you gripped the tiled edge for dear life. The length of his flexible tongue allowed him to easily map out your body and find every last sensitive spot of your velvety walls. “So good! Don’t stop, please!”

Spurred on by your praise, one hand reached up to circle your clit, the movement fast and precise and you simultaneously pushed your hips forward and his head closer to you. Peering down through your lashes with half-lidded eyes, you saw that his striking eyes were already on your face and the sight of him between your legs, his clothing fanned out around him and his scales shimmering under the surface, was almost enough to push you over the edge.

By now, your entire being was so sensitive, the faintest of movements had you twitching and clamping down on his tongue. You didn’t know what was up with you and you didn’t think about it further, the only thought in your head being how much you wanted to cum. 

“You’re almost there aren’t you?” He gently coaxed and was satisfied by the melody of your broken moans mixed with syllables of his name dripping from your lips like the sweetest of nectars. Barely parting from you to speak, his hot breath fanned your lower lips as the pads of his fingers continued the assault on your clit. “Be a good human and show me how well you can cream all over my tongue. I know you want to, so go ahead and give me all of you.”

As if your body had only waited for his approval, you did as you were told and came with a high-pitched moan of his name. Without realising it, you were white-knuckling both the tiles and Barbatos’s hair as pleasure coursed through your veins and pulled you under the waves of ecstasy. Said demon didn’t seem to mind though, instead just diligently keeping up the sinful caress of his fingers until you were trembling in overstimulation like a leaf on a lake. 

When you pushed him away from you, his hands settled on the curve of your hips and gently lifted you back into the water with him, carrying your entire weight as you rested against his chest, relaxing into the hypnotic sensation of his hands wandering all over you and massaging your tired thighs.

“As much as I’d love to let you rest, I’m afraid we are far from done,” he whispered, lovingly kissing the crown of your head, actions betraying his words. The hands that had lovingly taken care of you, wandered to your butt and kneaded the flesh there, all the while grinding his hard erection against you. “This was just the beginning of the pleasure I can show you, after all.”

Finally discarding his clothing as well, he revealed his flawless skin which shined like silver in the moonlight. You slung your arms around his neck as Barbatos curled his heavy tail around your middle, keeping you flush against him so he could grind his hard cock against your soaked folds and coat himself in your release. And suddenly you understood why his bulge had felt so big against you earlier.

Instead of one, two heads kept bumping into your clit.

“Barbatos, I don’t think I can–”

Before you could finish your sentence, your doubts were silenced by his lips on yours and slowly the fear of pain was replaced by the anticipation of a delicious stretch and the feeling of being fuller than you’ve ever felt. 

“Don’t worry, my love,” Barbatos spoke through the mist clouding your brain as he hiked you higher on his waist and wrapped your legs around him, “I won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure you’ll take all of me and that you’ll beg for it.”

You squeezed his hips between your thighs as you sighed into the crook of his neck. “Who knew that you had such a dirty mouth on you under that prim and proper façade?” 

“It is hardly a façade, merely the proper etiquette expected of me by my position.” The end of his sentence already trailed off into a groan as the mushroom head of his bottom cock breached the tight ring of muscles with ease, the stretch facilitated by how worked up you were. Though, the foreign oversensitivity you were experiencing on this night had you clenching hard around him and enveloping every prominent vein. “Under these circumstances, however, it is natural I’ve been released from my royal duties. So right now I’m just the demon Barbatos.”

“You’re always you to me,” you whimpered through the pressure building in your abdomen. “Never just a position, always yourself.”

“No, if I were myself around you,” he bottomed out slowly as you panted against his collarbones while trying to get used to his girth, “I would have given into my urges and made you mine already; would have had you writhing underneath me far earlier than it would be appropriate.”

At his confession, fiery passion blazed through your nerves as you remembered how often you had fantasised about him on quiet nights. To find out he felt the same way made you crave him more, your hand clawing at his shoulder as you did your best to swivel your hips even if all your muscles seemingly turned to jelly with him filling you so deliciously. 

“And I would have let you,” your own admittance was quiet against the heartbeat pulsing in your ears but Barbatos heard you clearly. The sound he let out was the most animalistic yet, barely human anymore and it shot straight between your legs. “Move and– And you can have me any way you want now…”

“All this time spent in the Devildom and you still don’t know when you’re getting yourself in trouble,” Barbatos’s jaw clenched as he slowly pulled out of you, making you feel every vein and ridge against your walls, until only his tip remained inside of you. Then, without warning, he thrust as deep as he could, pulling you back down simultaneously. “You need to watch what you’re saying to a demon such as myself.”

The slow pace he set at the beginning was quickly abandoned in favour of pounding into you, almost using you like a toy with how easily he moved you up and down on him to meet his thrusts. Nevertheless, he never lost his ability to hit your most pleasurable spots dead on, not that he could really miss them with his girth. 

Vaguely, you registered his tail winding around you but you didn’t realise his intentions until something scaly was catching some of your arousal before poking your other hole, making you gasp out his name. Then, his mouth was on yours again and it became harder to hold on to lucidity the more you swallowed around his tongue, your speech becoming even more incoherently slurred as pure lust swirled in your belly.

“It’ll be alright, you can take it. You just need to relax for me,” Barbatos whispered. At this point you didn’t think you had control over your body anymore, instead having your strings pulled by the demon whose arms you were held in. His tail wriggled in further and further, through the thrusts that hadn’t ceased alone, and the pressure against your walls from both sides wound the knot in your stomach impossibly tighter. “There we go, you’re taking it so well. Almost as if you were made for me.”

Somewhere in your mind, you agreed. With the way he was moulding your insides to the shape of his dick you were positive he was currently ruining you for any other man. As your head rolled to the side, you barred the expanse of your neck to him and Barbatos gladly took the invitation to leave more evidence of this night behind, every kiss and lick searing hot against your already feaverish skin.

Just when you thought the pleasure would finally drive you to insanity, Barbatos angled his hips in a particular way and struck gold by having his second dick apply pressure on your clit, immediately drowning you in another orgasm that left you gasping for air. The day after, there’d be vicious red marks decorating his back but neither of you cared right now as you spasmed in his arms, your muscles no longer listening to you. 

Vision hazy, you barely registered the texture of the tiles underneath your torso until your cheek squished against them. Your legs were still submerged as Barbatos repositioned himself behind you. Spreading your ass with his webbed hands, he watched as your glistening holes twitched against the newfound emptiness before he gave you what you were missing.

“I can’t believe you’re still so tight,” he groaned, cursing under his breath as he lined up both of his cocks and bottomed out until his balls slapped against your clit in one smooth trust. The upper one of his dicks wasn’t quite as girthy but still filled you up deliciously until you couldn’t anymore if the stars you were seeing were the real ones behind the window. 

“You look so beautiful, all splayed out for me. And I’m certain you’ll look even more enchanting carrying my clutch,” Barbatos panted, the strain from fucking your brain out finally getting to him as well. “Such a waste that they won’t take like this. You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you? To carry my eggs around? Oh dear, I can feel you clamping down on me… We’ll leave that for next time, I suppose.”

Only half of what he was saying was registering in your mind but the low, rich timbre of his voice had your own moans rising in cadence and pitch, creating the most sinful symphony. The rhythm of his hips, however, started to falter as the pulsing of your warm walls coaxed him to the peak as well.

Your breasts rubbed against the cold tiles with every thrust, the difference in texture and temperature adding to the stimulation. Despite not being able to see it, you could hear the splash of his tail behind him followed by stray water drops landing on your back. Snaking his hand between your legs, you guessed he truly tried to drive you mad with pleasure as he leaned over you with stuttering hips.

“Barbatos–,” you downright sobbed in warning, “I’m so close.”

“I’m almost there too, just keep sucking me in like this… That’s a good darling,” he groaned out before his fangs sunk into your shoulder.

If you thought you felt full before, you weren’t prepared for the sensation of the first egg being pushed inside of you. You could feel the bottom shaft swell with the oval shape as your muscles stretched further to accommodate for the size. It reminded you of the first time his tip had spread you open, only ten times as intense.

Just when the first one slipped through your tight opening, you came. Hard. And it wouldn’t stop, prolonged by several more of his eggs nestling inside of you. At the same time, your other hole was stuffed to the brim with hot strings of white, leaving you to feel completely stuffed. 

By the time Barbatos pulled out of you, you were still left gasping for air, dripping cum and slick and trembling against the edge of the pool. After admiring the sight in front of him for a little longer, he gently pulled you back against him, letting himself drift backwards in the water. With your back resting against his chest, it was easy for Barbatos to knead the knots out of your sore thighs, hands wandering to stroke over your belly every now and then. Lovingly, he kissed the top of your head as you clung to lucidity, his tail curling around the length of one of your legs. 

“You did so well for me,” he reassured you, stroking along your arms. “And do not fret about the eggs. Since they won’t take like this, they’ll just come back out. Of course, I’ll be there to help you through it. Though I was quite right, you look positively enthralling carrying my clutch.”

“Well, getting to this point felt amazing as well, though I doubt I’ll be moving a single muscle tomorrow,” you admitted, making a chuckle rumble in his chest. Sighing as you shifted in his hold you added, “Guess I’m not so upset I accidentally fed you some magic chocolate if it gave you two dicks. I’ll still get Asmo for it though.”

“Please do.” You could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers traced your body. “Though I must correct you: It was not the transformation that gave me this anatomy.”

“Wait, you always–”, you gulped.

“Naturally. However else could I have promised you to breed you properly in the future?” The teasing tone hiding behind his polite demeanour and closed-eyed- smile did not go unnoticed by you. “That is, of course, if you are willing to help me understand the human body even better.”

“I- I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you answered bashfully.

“Splendid. Now then, given the nature of the candies I suppose the effect should wear off when Halloween night ends,” Barbatos cleared your next question before you even posed it. “Judging by how high the moon still stands, it appears we still have plenty of time.

“Perhaps we should test your stamina next while we see how many clutches you can carry?”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list (if you're already on my tag list, shoot me another ask if you want to be on the nsfw one as well)

[velvetm00light]

Drunken Confessions

gif: pinterest dividers: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: drunk&dom!Spencer Reid x sub!Female Reader

Summary: After a night out at the bar, Spencer drunkenly tells his coworker, Y/n, how he feels about her. She's shown the side of him no one knows as they go to his apartment together and show each other exactly how they feel.

Warnings: Alcohol, PinV, fluff, coworkers, domxsub, smut.

A/N: First attempt at a one-shot. This honestly went in a different direction than I actually planned for and I'm not mad about it. I hope ya'll enjoy. ;)

GLASSES CLINK NOISLY AS the Behavioral Analysis Unit team of the Federal Bureau of Investigation cheers each other over the too small wooden table inside their favored bar for after-work drinks. They had just gotten back from a particularly gruesome case and all agreed to try and let loose for the night. They even managed to get their innocent boy wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid, to tag along.

Music thundered around the bar, y/n's feet feeling the vibrations through the hardwood floor beneath her. It was almost impossible to hear each other over the music, so they all had to result to either yelling or not using their words at all.

JJ basically jumps from her seat and yells across the table, "time to dance!" Y/n, Emily, and Penelope wasted no time rising from their seats and rushing onto the dance floor, the boys decidedly choosing to stay at the table.

Emily has made the point multiple times before that they reason they all choose not to dance is most likely because they're embarrassed of their dancing skills and it might just kill them to make a fool of themselves in front of strangers. Even though Morgan swears he actually dances like a "sex god" per his own words, he is perfectly fine sitting his married ass down and sipping on a nice cocktail.

The girls waste no time getting down to business on the dance floor as the boys at the table talk, well, more like yell, amongst themselves. Despite only having a single drink, in which he is currently still nursing, Spencer finds his eyes gluing themselves to y/n. The way she gracefully moves her body to the rhythm of the music, the flow of her hair behind her, stray pieces already beginning to stick to the nape of her neck and shoulders.

"Earth to Reid."

Spencer's attention snaps away from y/n's mesmerizing moves and stares at Morgan. A heat creeps up his neck and into his cheeks, feeling like a kid caught red-handed.

"Go dance with her. You're oogling her and I won't be surprised if you started to drool had I not said anything." Morgan was reveling in the fact that Spencer finally couldn't deny what the entire team pretty much already knew, a smirk on his face as he tilted his head in y/n's direction.

"Absolutely not!" Spencer cried, already feeling the second hand embarrassment. His too long limbs cause a great deal of trouble every time he's ever attempted to dance. He can't imagine making that big of a fool of himself in front of the girl he's been developing a crush on ever since she joined the Bureau.

"You've got to take life by the balls, kid. How do you expect her to know you're pretty much in love with her, if you tell her?"

"What? I'm not in love with her," Spencer argues, knowing damn well his actions rat him out as a total liar.

"Fine, have a few more drinks and then let me know how you feel." Morgan gets another round of drinks and pushes two new, full rum and cokes in front of Spencer. "Try not to take an hour to drink these, kid."

Deciding he could actually do with some liquid courage, he downs the first drink. The instant burn of the heavy handed pour sliding down his throat causes a war within his stomach and he instantly regrets it. He's not used to alcohol and alcohol definitely does not tend to agree with him. But hell, who is he kidding? He might be better off getting so drunk he finally tells her how he feels and doesn't remember doing it to save him from the embarrassment likely to follow.

Y/n and the girls are in the middle of a pretty heated dance battle together when Spencer stumbles onto the dance floor.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is wonder boy coming to dance with us?"

The women immediately stop their dancing and turn towards where the man himself is carefully weaving through the crowd towards them. "I thought I might join you guys,"

"Please do!" Y/n shouts over the music. The women instantly resuming their dancing and Spencer immediately feels at ease. He's unsure if it's the multiple rum and cokes he downed just a few minutes ago or if it's because the women begin dancing like lunatics without a care in the world. He joins in without hesitation.

They all dance the night away together, y/n and Spencer laughing with each other as they sing and dance together, him spinning her across the dance floor, and on occasion them getting so close he almost took the risk to kiss her.

As the night gets darker, the bar gets emptier, and swear pours down their entire bodies, they finally make their way back to the table.

"You looked great out there, kid." Morgan chuckled, sipping the last of his drink.

"I think this was the best night of my life," Spencer smiled. For a brief moment, y/n and Spencer's gazes caught each other and they shared wide, toothy smiles. The tension between them so palpable you could cut it with a knife. As if realizing it, the rest of the team says their goodnights and leave y/n and Spencer to their own devices at their littered table.

"I'll drive you home," y/n suggests, fishing into her purse for her keys as they make their ways toward the parking lot. "Before you ask, no I'm not drunk. I haven't even been able to touch a drink most of the night because I was obviously too busy getting down and dirty."

Spencer smiled down at her, "Thank you, I would appreciate that very much."

They climb into her car together, and Spencer instantly heats up at the proximity and the fact that they're alone. As she starts up her car and focuses on pulling out of the bar parking lot without hitting drunk pedestrians, Spencer is compelled by the very essence of her. His eyes greedily roam over her from her lush, lip glossed lips to her sweat slick hair sticking to her neck, to her perfectly formed nose. He drinks in each and every one of her features, truly unable to find a single flaw on her.

The short, red dress she's dressed in hugs her curves perfectly, her long legs teasing him as they move back and forth from gas pedal to brake and back again. Desire courses through his blood and feels as if it might boil him from the inside out if he doesn't act upon it.

"You know what's crazy?"

"What, Spence?"

"I've had a crush on your for years and I've been way too scared to tell you." He bursts into a laugh and y/n's breath catches in her throat. She doesn't even consider allowing herself to believe he's telling the truth, because out of all people, why her?

"You're drunk, Spence."

"You know what they say, drunk words are sober thoughts."

Her whole body tingles as her grip tightens on the steering wheel. Her core feels molten at the desire pooling at the bottom of her stomach as it has been all night. Even when he was dancing like an absolute goof, he was still the hottest man she's ever seen in her life. The entire night, all she could do was wish the moment would last forever, Spencer spinning her across the dance floor, their faces being inches away from each other. She almost gave in and kissed him every single time she could feel his panting breath on her face.

"I mean it, you know. Ever since you joined the Bureau, I've just had this...pull to you. You're seriously the most mesmerizing, brilliant, generous, exquisite woman I've ever met in my life. I ache to be near you every single time you leave. I ache to kiss those beautiful lips every single time you talk, or when you bite your bottom lip when you're nervous, or when we'll sometimes accidentally get so close to each other it almost just makes sense to grab you by the chin and kiss you."

Y/n is dazed after his revelation. Her heart begins to beat so rapidly in her chest she swears it might just burst through her ribs and out of her body completely. "I-Are you sure you're not just drunk, Spence?"

"Oh, I'm drunk. But I'm just saying the things sober me would have never said in a million years," he smiles at her. She catches his gaze for a moment, wide-eyed and absolutely dumbfounded, before quickly returning her gaze to the road in front of her. "I was always afraid you would never feel the same, and I guess the suffering of never telling you how I felt was a better option than telling you how I felt, you not feeling the same, and then our entire friendship is ruined. I don't think I could bear losing you."

"Spence.." Y/n chokes out. "Let's talk about this inside."

She swiftly pulls into a parking spot outside Spencer's apartment and they both rush inside. As y/n shuts the door softly behind her, she whirls around and almost slams into Spencer.

Before she can do anything, she's backed up against his apartment door, his hands above each side of her head, trapping her. "This doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" He asks softly.

"No," y/n manages to breathe out.

"Good, then hopefully this doesn't either."

Before she can ask what he means, he greedily crashes his lips into hers. A small moan escapes her lips as he takes her bottom lip between his teeth and tugs roughly. The opening of her lips gives Spencer the chance he was hoping for and she readily accepts his tongue as hers dances along. The kiss between them is greedy and hungry, the built up tension between them finally snapping.

She's pushed completely into the wall by Spencer's towering body. He bends down slightly, reaching for the back of her legs. He pulls her off the floor, and wraps her legs around his waist without breaking the ensuing passionate kiss.

She feels his body move beneath her as he grinds up into her. A whimper escapes from her and passes into Spencer's mouth which only causes him to grind against her center again, his arousal evident.

She removes her arms from around his neck and fumbles for his belt. She swiftly unbuckles him and pulls out his hardening length. She slides her hands slowly up and down, teasing small moans from his lips.

Before she can even react, he's pushed the hem of her dress up to her waist. He finally breaks the kiss and says, "How wet do you think you'll be for me?"

"Why don't you check for yourself," she purrs, attacking his lips, their tongues once again battling for dominance.

He groans at the pleasure and the desire in her reply, wasting no time pulling her panties to the side and sliding a finger between her lips. "God, you're so wet for me," he breathes in her mouth before tugging on her bottom lip once again.

He removes her hands from him and slams her hands above her head, his hands on her wrists to keep her from budging. "Are you going to take it like a good girl?" He murmurs.

"Yes," y/n manages to get out.

"Yes, sir," he scolds.

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

Without another word, he lines up underneath her and gently pushes into her core. He can feel her throbbing against him as he eases into his movements. "Oh my god," she whimpers. Spencer releases her swollen lips and trails kisses down her jaw and neck as he thrusts hungrily into her, his hands solid against her wrists.

He releases one hand from her wrist and commands, "Do not lower your arm."

"Yes, sir."

He lowers the neckline of her dress, exposing her breasts taut from the desire coursing through her. He sucks on the skin of her breasts, leaving his marks along her chest. He takes her nipple into his mouth, using his tongue and teeth to play with it, perfectly mixing the right amount of pain with her pleasure.

He pounds into her harder as he works her nipples. Her rising climax becoming almost unbearable.

"Don't cum unless I give you permission."

"But-"

"You heard me."

"Yes, sir."

Y/n's body moves in tandem with his as if their bodies unconsciously know this dance together between their sweating bodies. His thrusting doesn't cease or stutter, the euphoric feeling of him perfectly hitting her aching spot sends her eyes rolling.

"Please," she chokes out. Her head pushed back against the door, her back arched off the door as if instinctively reaching out for Spencer's body. Spencer releases the nipple in his mouth and returns his ravenous gaze to hers.

"Come for me, baby."

Their lips join together again as he pumps harder, the both of them chasing their releases. She can't help but cry out at the ecstasy that overtakes her as she falls over the edge, Spencer following with his own.

Y/n's entire body trembles against the door, both of their breaths heavy and mixing with each others.

He lets her down gently from the door. "How about we take a bath and wash up," he suggests, need written all over his face. Y/n nods, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

Spencer helps her into the bathroom, smiling at himself for being the reason she can barely walk. He wastes no time getting a bath started and they lower themselves into the tub without waiting for it to completely fill up.

She moans as the hot water soothes her muscles.

"Relax all you want right now because I'm not done with you yet."

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (16) - A War You Cannot Win

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word count: 3k

-Said no, hell no, I am not yours to rule, I won't be your fool-

It came out of nowhere, like lightning out of blue. Your dad hit the brakes, so hard the car stalled, and grabbed you, blasting the back of the car and jumping out. “Dad?!” he ignored your yell, yellow lightning engulfing him as he shifted into his bear lightning beast form and began running. All your confusion and the question that died on your lips vanished as a loud explosion destroyed your dad’s car.

You dared to look behind, seeing the remains falling onto the road as a figure emerged from the smoke and flames, and you recognized him immediately, just by feeling alone.

The Raijin, the thunder god, returned.

Your heart stopped for a moment, that fear, that despair returning. You trusted your dad, you knew he was strong, but not even he could go up against Raijin. He ran off the road, jumping down the hill and enhancing his speed through lightning. You were a raiju as well, but his lightning was much stronger, and you felt it electrocuting you bit by bit, but you gritted your teeth, you could deal with some numbness as long as you got away from the monster. He wasn’t running after you and for a brief, naïve moment you thought he just meant to scare you.

And then the birds flew up abruptly, each and every one of them fleeing. You saw other small animals you were running past fleeing in any direction, the entire forest being engulfed in existential panic and something primal within you, an instinct born from being a raiju told you there was no escape.

Then it happened. Everything around the two of you just exploded in a burst of blue lightning and you only survived because your dad managed to jump into the air and shift back into his human form, grabbing onto you and hovering in air with lightning.

“What the…?!” you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, an entire area, easily a mile in radius, was just destroyed. The ground cracked, trees burning and uprooted, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh of the animals that failed to flee engulfed your sense, what somehow survived was left to die a painful death, screeching, crying in pain as smoke rose above you and your dad.

You were dead. Both of you. You couldn’t even hope to match this. Your body went limp and you saw several teardrops falling from your face to the scorched ground. Wednesday told you Diego, Goody’s raiju was no match for Raijin, but you didn’t think the difference in power was this large. And you doubted he was even trying.

“Damn monster. If he took his time to charge that up he could easily destroy entire Nevermore grounds, school included,” your breath hitched as your dad said that, and this monster had something to do with Laurel’s plan, or so you and Wednesday guessed. You couldn’t even tell Wednesday to run, to find a way to get out of that mess, your phone was in the car, all you had left was the knife you got from Wednesday, strapped to your back.

“That’s your kid? Elijah?” you heard his voice, booming, powerful voice and dared to glance to the side as your dad lowered the two of you back to the ground. The monster took the hood of his cloak off, and he was exactly the way Wednesday described him. Spiky blue hair, long, flowing behind him, animalistic, angry-looking face, and pale blue eyes that sent chills down your spine. He still looked like he was around forty. And he looked like a giant, tall, easily taller than two meters, muscular, he towered over your dad.

“Raijin,” your dad spoke through gritted teeth, not even trying to attack, he just lowered you down to the ground and stood in front of you, your one last line of defense as you remained on your hands and knees, frozen. “I’ll do whatever you want, just let my daughter live,” he suggested, bargained, desperate, and the thunder god knew that.

He tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. “Your arrogance amuses me. What could a beast ever offer to a god?” he raised his hand and you saw blue lightning gathering around his palm. “On second thought, you could die for her,” he lowered his hand and sat down.

“You promise you’ll let her live?” your dad asked and you stumbled to your feet, only for him to hold you back before you could get in front of him.

“Yes. There is one catch though. I choose how you die,” he vanished in a burst of lightning and appeared behind the two of you, just several feet away.

You didn’t even dare to look behind you. You kept your mouth shut, your brain desperately trying to come up with a way out of this, but nothing, absolutely nothing came to your mind. He was faster, stronger, even if you were as strong as your dad there would be nothing you could do.

“Tell me?” your dad requested, just as still as you.

“Easy. She kills you.”

The entire world shattered as those words registered in your mind.

He took a step closer to you and leaned down and you saw your father flinching, of all the things the monster could have asked for, he asked that of you. You watched as your father relaxed, he wasn’t even going to try to fight, this was it. “You hear that? You just have to kill your dad, and you’ll live. How lucky is that? Getting spared for the second time?”

You survive the second time, but the cost of your survival is your father’s life? Your eyes narrowed and you nodded. “It is lucky,” you said, took a deep breath and your eyes met his. “Let me shift. I want to make it as painless as possible. Dad’s lightning is stronger than mine, it’ll take a while to kill him unless I even things out by shifting,” from the corner of your eye you saw your father turning to look at you with a smile on his face. It was like he was already forgiving you, like the only regret he had about this was the fact that you would have to kill him.

Raijin laughed, genuinely laughed as he stepped away from you. “Of course, I shall grant you that wish. Say, child, how about you come with me. Work for me, do my biddings, be what you were meant to be! My beast!” he offered, clearly serious, seeing as your dad once more went stiff.

“Do I die if I say no?” you asked, just to be sure.

Raijin shrugged. “No, you don’t. You just get to live a long life, instead of dying the next time you see me. Besides, a tiger would fit in well with my beasts,” so, he wasn’t alone. Somehow you expected that.

“I won’t join you,” you rejected him, red sparks circling you as you prepared to shift.

“Y/N, forgive me for getting you in this situation. Don’t let this affect you, think of everyone else. Your mom, your friends, unless you kill me here, they’ll all suffer,” your dad said, his arms spread wide, accepting of your attack. Accepting this as his grave, this ruined, scorched remains of a forest.

You did think of them. Of your mom, of Enid, Thing, of Wednesday. Flashes of something you couldn’t remember came to your mind, her body leaning against yours, her eyes, the smile on her face, calling you ‘Mi Rayo’ and you wished you knew what it meant. You understood that was what happened the night after Crackstone was defeated, while you were depleted of electricity, the two of you nearly kissing. Her lips so close to yours, you could almost feel them brushing against your own. That’s what you forgot, that’s what hurt her, and you would apologize to her.

The red lightning turned orange and your body changed, shifting into your tiger form.

You were aware this time, for the most part, you understood what was going on around you, you knew what you had to do, and you gathered all of your lightning around your right paw. You watched as your father smiled and Raijin smirked right next to you.

And you swept your paw, claws out, lightning bursting from it, and slammed it right into Raijin’s chest.

“What are you doing?!” you heard your dad yelling as you discharged all the lightning you had and roared, putting more strength into your attack and sending him into a fallen tree. “Y/N!” your dad screamed your name as you charged at Raijin at full speed, lightning engulfing your body as you slammed into him and bit down on his arm before tossing him up and blasting him with several lightning strikes.

Yellow lightning burst from behind you and you saw your dad, once again in bear form zapping up and hitting Raijin from above, smacking him into the scorched ground just as you slammed your front paws on the ground in front of you and made the earth Raijin just landed on explode from a burst of lightning.

Your dad let lightning engulf his body entirely, easily looking three times as large as before as he struck Raijin, closing his jaw around the monster’s neck and trying to kill him while constantly electrocuting him and trying to paralyze him. But a single swipe of Raijin’s hand ended the struggle.

Your eyes widened as the golden lightning vanished, consumed by blue lightning, and you saw your dad falling toward Raijin, still in his bear form but clearly unable to zap out of the way. You zapped forward, slamming into him and getting him out of the way of blue lightning. You skidded across the ground, your legs not giving out despite the weight of the huge bear on your back.

“I have to admit,” Raijin sighed, opening his cloak and touching his chest. You could smell blood. “Though it wasn’t caused by lightning, the pure strength behind your attack was mildly impressive,” he was looking at his fingertips, at the drops of blood you managed to draw from his chest.

You roared, lightning bursting from your body. You would fight until your very last breath. Your dad could no longer fight, you just noticed his back legs were completely useless, burnt by the initial blast, and Raijin probably neutralized his strongest attack as if it was nothing. You were nothing as well, by that logic, but you would keep going.

You saw blue sparks and jumped above the ground, dodging a blast from the ground, the same kind of attack you used just now. You kept jumping, just barely dodging the bursts of lightning with your father still on your back. At least he shifted back into his human form. “There’s no use, you’ll tire yourself out,” he gave up, he completely, entirely gave up.

How you wished you could talk in this form, instead, all you could do was roar at him, and that split second of distraction was enough, your dad took the burnt of the damage by jumping of your back and in front of the blast, but you still got hit, and the pain so intense you instantly went back to your human form consumed you. You felt lightning ripping through you, leaving deep wounds on your chest as the two of you fell to the ground. Mortally wounded, bleeding out, and at Raijin’s mercy.

You had it easy though, you saw your dad’s left arm was gone, as well as a good portion of his chest. He was no longer breathing, he couldn’t be saved! “Damn it!” you slammed your fist on the ground as you stumbled back onto your feet.

“Passing grade for effort,” Raijin told you, not even taunting the two of you, just genuinely praising your attempt to stay alive. You watched as an orb of lightning gathered in front of his palm and gritted your teeth.

You still had some strength left, if this was going to obliterate you, you’d at the very least give it one last try. You raised both of your hands, an orb of red lightning forming in front of you.

“Ridiculous. I guess you are still somewhat human, you just won’t give up,” he smirked and threw the ball of lightning toward you.

With a defiant roar you hurled your own lightning right at it and sent several lightning bolts after it. The two orbs of lightning collided, but yours wasn’t consumed right away, they clashed in the middle, lightning crackling around them, ground splitting as red and blue mixed together and you felt your own strength skyrocketing. You felt lightning bursting all around you, consuming you, burning your wounds closed, strengthening you, as you pushed back against Raijin’s blue lightning. And bit by bit red absorbed blue, turning purple in the process. The lightning between you and Raijin exploded and you stumbled back and fell onto the ground.

~X~

He sighed, the few scratches from the explosion stinging for an entirely different reason. “In the end your body couldn’t handle it,” he approached you, your wounds closed, but you couldn’t survive the sudden increase in power. “Your fang did reach me, stubborn tiger. Rest easy, I’ll let your loved ones grieve in peace,” he crouched down next to your body and closed your eyes. “How tragic is it, to see potential squandered for the sake of dogged ideals of love,” he took out a phone, not to taunt the girl, but to let her know she lost her raiju, and he sent the video, proof of your demise.

~X~

Wednesday heard her phone beeping again as she stepped inside her home. It was dreadfully familiar, the smell, the sound of her footsteps, the entire house looked just the way it did when she left. Not that it surprised her, the house was more or less the same as it was years ago, let alone the brief time she spent at Nevermore.

She pulled her phone out of her bag as she took her shoes off, you would probably reach your own destination by now. And you did promise to send her a text and though she refused to be a slave to technology she did figure this was a convenient way to handle brief communication. Instead of a text message she saw some kind of media attachment and clicked on it.

Her eyes widened as her family came into the hall to greet her. But her eyes were glued on the phone and she just barely felt Thing on her shoulder. He froze on her shoulder, and she realized she wasn’t seeing things.

“Wednesday?” her mother spoke up, but Wednesday didn’t respond.

She just watched the video, your body, covered in blood, next to your father, both of you clearly dead.

“Lurch get back in the car!” she yelled, putting her shoes back on and rushing outside, her bag forgotten on the floor as her family went after her.

~X~

Elijah managed to roll onto his stomach and drag his body closer to you once Raijin was gone. He was dead. His heart stopped, he wasn’t breathing, he bled out, his body was completely dead, and he couldn’t move anything aside from his right arm and head.

Everything in the body functioned through brain signals, and those were electrical impulses, so as long as his brain still worked he could somewhat function. But he was running out of time. Once heart stopped beating he only had three to four minutes left, and with each passing minute his capabilities would be severely worsened. He still needed to keep you alive. You wouldn’t bleed out, your wounds were for the most part closed, he just needed to get your heart beating again. So, with what little time he had left he raised his bloody palm above your heart and sent lightning to your heart.

He looked at you, at your unmoving body. No matter what you weren’t dying with him here! He was your father, he was supposed to protect you, yet even with him there you still got this hurt! He failed as a father, but he would not let you die, his lightning gradually restarted your heart, slowly forcing your brain to send signals to the stopped organ once more, until your heart began steadily beating and he saw you breathing, each breath was shallow, but you were alive.

Raiju resilience would do the rest, you’d recover, stronger than ever before. He only wished he could speak and tell you how proud of you he was, how much he loved you, and how much he wished he could have given you a normal family, with both parents present in your life instead of the way things ended up.

In the end, him fleeing, hiding from Raijin didn’t keep you safe.

He raised his hand, brushing some dust from your face with the back of his finger. You’d be fine, you were stronger than loss. ‘Grieve, cry, process all the emotions however you want, but then get up and keep on living’ if he could have, that’s what his last words to you would be.

He pushed away from you and his right arm fell onto the ground, about a foot away from you and he closed his eyes, his brain shutting down completely. His life flashed in front of his eyes. His childhood, his first shift, his time at Nevermore, meeting Anna, your birth, it was a good life, he wished for more time with you, with your mother, but he was content knowing you were still alive.

And so, Elijah, raiju that shifted into golden bear, died, the last act of his life saving the life of his daughter.

A/N: I need season 2! Until then 3 or 4 chapters of Woe out the Storm, just to resolve the cliffhanger from the chapter 15. Gimme thoughts!

Story masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Taglist: @brocoliisscared @alexkolax

[ventique18]

It was a perfect day. Everything went romantically--passionately, even. Now they're standing on a lush verdant hill, the gentle evening breeze caressing their faces. Their hesitant fingers brushing oh-so-shyly as their hearts beat and beat even faster in a plea to shout out what their tongues cannot say.

And when he gazes at the person beside him, their attention captivated by the colorful fireworks that drew stars and flowers and beauty before their very eyes, he knows he has to say it. So that he may see the same besotted expression directed at him instead.

"My lovely flower. My beautiful star. Won't you... make breakfast with me, everyday, for the rest of our lives?"

"Huh? I know you like my cheap cooking, but don't you have world-class chefs at home? I'm sure they'd do better than me..."

"Ah."

In some cultures, asking someone to cook for you everyday is an indirect way of asking someone to marry you. And he was rejected.

Malleus Draconia was rejected. Unwittingly. With all the innocence in the world a person could ever display on their face.

Ah well, just another one of his failed attempts. He'd try again next time, in a different setting, with a different approach. There's bound to be one in a thousand that would work on them, surely?

"I don't really plan to take up culinary arts," They suddenly declare; eyes ahead and never meeting his, "So I don't think I'm qualified to be a royal chef. But if my job title gets to be 'spouse' instead... Maybe I'll give it a thought."

He's not entirely sure if the popping sound was still the fireworks or if it was his very heart.

[youunravelme]

slowly, then all at once

author's note: i'm going through some shit and needed to alleviate it with fluff and also it's mat's birthday (or at least it was when i started this)! EDIT: this takes place in an alternative TATGYLB universe bc went an ENTIRELY different direction with this series (because i don't plan well lolol). (stole the title from the fault in our stars because that book had me in a CHOKEHOLD at 14)

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warnings: none? cursing?

summary: the stages of mat falling in love with you

mat saw how you were with ella, the way you'd smile and talk to her like she could hold a conversation. or the way you never chided him or condescended to him when he did something completely stupid.

which is more than what he could say about his teammates.

so when he heard your piece of shit boyfriend screaming at you over the phone? or when he showed up unannounced and trying to "win you back?"

mat was livid.

he was sure jason had never hit you, because if there was any indication of that, mat would be all over it.

so while he's sure jason never inflicted physical harm, he saw the way you kept to yourself and even the way you looked surprised at his invitation to lunch or the game.

it broke his heart a little, to think that you'd never once considered yourself now a part of his life. when, in fact, the second you agreed to watch ella, it was like he'd pulled you into the fold.

he was on a mission to prove it to you.

inviting you to his game was the first step in his original plan.

well.

it was the first non intimidating step. (tito mentioned that maybe meeting his mom and sister after only knowing him for like a week was not the smartest move he'd ever made.)

you still looked out of your element when he asked, but he's positive that it was his own enthusiasm that convinced you to say yes.

and he thought it was a great idea! he got you and jason tickets, thinking that maybe you'd be more comfortable with having him around. and perhaps that was true at some point, but when he saw you, standing with only ella and sydney with water lining your eyes, something in his chest twisted.

you looked shaken, like someone had stuck you in a blender.

"where's jason?" was apparently the wrong thing to ask because sydney changed the subject almost immediately.

you wouldn't even look at him.

and when you told him about your piece of shit boyfriend leaving you?

mat wasn't prepared for the burning in his chest. no one got away with treating a friend of his that way, but seeing as you just avoided the topic altogether, he dropped it.

until you went upstairs to your apartment and didn't text him. tito would say he has a habit of hovering at times and maybe he never really agreed until five minutes passed without a word from you.

if you asked, he would've denied the intense concern growing in his chest. but how else was he supposed to react when you seemed so dissociated the rest of the night?

thankfully, you picked up almost immediately.

"hello?"

mat cleared his throat. "hey, you never texted me to say you got in alright. you okay?”

now it could've only been a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before he heard your voice.

“keep the car running, i’ll be down in a few minutes.”

mat was ready to grab ella and head upstairs, car be damned.

he couldn't hear what else really happened on the phone, he only knew that you came downstairs, empty handed, and frazzled. the sight alone had him contemplating going into your apartment to figure out exactly what was going on, but he knew the best decision was take you back to his place.

he'd figured it out when jason showed up with his daughter's car seat screaming at you for wearing his clothes. screaming at you like you were somehow in the wrong, like he wasn't the one who cheated on you.

you.

who had to be the most selfless person he knew (don't tell his mom).

you.

who had readily agreed to take care of his daughter on a whim because he was insanely scared.

you.

who was one of the only topic of conversation his mother wanted to discuss. it used to just be hockey and how he was doing. now the thirty minute phone calls turned into hour and a half long facetimes where ella and you are regular topics for discussion.

mat couldn't comprehend how someone could look at you and want to tear you down, but after you officially broke up with jason? he was determined to show you how much you deserved.

exhibit a

"it's five sugars, right?" mat called over his shoulder once he heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

you paused in the doorway. "what?"

mat turned around, two mugs of coffee in his hands. "you like five sugars, right?"

ella sat on your hip but didn't seem to give a flying fuck that he was in front of her.

"you--you remembered?" you tilted your head. "you only made me coffee like once?"

mat's face heated up at the implication but smirked anyway. "i have a great memory!"

"could've surprised me from the amount of times you get hit."

mat shrugged, still not completely used to the idea of you watching his games, even if they were just highlights. he held the mug out to you in exchange for ella.

"you wanna come to a game again?" he offered.

you looked at him before breaking eye contact and sipping your coffee. "i don't know if that's the best idea after last time. i don't want to embarrass you again--"

"woah woah woah," mat sat his coffee mug on the island before holding a hand up at you. it didn't sit right with him to see you so ashamed of something someone else did. "what happened at the game was not your fault. it was his, okay? you weren't to blame."

"you weren't even there to see it--"

"and i don't need to, okay? i know you." he meant it. but seeing as the conversation was getting a little too heavy, he changed the subject. "just think about it! and let me know what game you want to go to."

you didn't say anything, but just gave him a small smile and nodded.

he'd count it as a win.

exhibit b

it'd been about four months since you'd started working with mat, three months since you moved in.

not that he was counting.

there were things that were harder with having you around. mainly remembering to wear a shirt when he wakes up in the morning, or to not adjust his junk until he was in the bathroom or his bedroom.

but--

there were many more things that were significantly easier (and better) with you in his life (and apartment).

sleep training ella was easy as hell

keeping an eye on ella who was walking now

the apartment actually smelled nice? not that it smelled bad before, but now it smelled like a home.

and who knew decorative pillows made a difference?

but his favorite thing recently?

grocery shopping.

he was currently pushing ella around in a shopping cart while you scrolled on your phone through the list.

"so what do we need next?" he asked.

"if you'd give me a second, i'd have the answer for you," you snipped.

by now, mat was used to your snide comments, knowing that you were just a bit quippy when you were focused.

"ella, is your nanny being a little cranky?" he joked, ignoring the glare you were shooting his way.

you rolled your eyes and tossed a bag of bread at his head that would've hit its mark had he not had the reflexes that gave him a professional hockey career.

"excuse me?" an older woman spoke up from behind him. "as cute as your little family is, can you move out of the way? you're clogging up the aisle."

mat blinked. time froze. he'd never fully considered the implications of the three of you out in public together. but being the comment of you, him, and ella being a "little family" had his heart stopping in his chest.

"oh of course!" you spoke up and grabbed mat by the arm. the feel of your touch alone had him directing his attention to the physical contact.

he looked at you instead of the woman, watched as you mumbled to ella as you pulled all three of you out of the way. his brain went on overdrive.

god he never wanted you to let go of him ever again. he would give anything to just be able to hold onto you a little longer.

and he must've been thinking for too long because you were snapping your fingers in front of his face?

"mat? you okay? did i lose you there?" you had a cute pinch between your brows and a small frown on your face.

that wouldn't do.

so he smiled and nodded. "sorry, just thinking about something."

you.

exhibit c

you went out for the night with sydney while he hung out with tito and anders. initially, you said you'd look for a sitter to cover you, but mat laughed that suggestion off.

he didn't say it, but you were no longer a nanny to him anymore. and you deserved a night off without the stress of finding a replacement. anders and marty suggested a babysitter that he hired for the night immediately.

"are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here? i can help explain ella's routine!" you said.

mat rolled his eyes as he herded you towards the door. "i'll be fine, go have fun!"

you let him gently push you out of the door but turned around and looked at him. "if you need me, text me."

mat smiled. "if you need me, call me."

the babysitter arrived five minutes early which meant mat could spend that time kissing ella's cheeks and reiterating her schedule to the sitter.

he was the last person at the bar, anders and tito were already sitting in a booth, each with a beer in their hands, an extra one on the table for him (he assumed).

"didn't wanna leave ella?" anders asked.

tito scoffed. "more like he didn't wanna leave mama bear." mat rolled his eyes while anders cackled in response.

"shut up, beau."

"ah! but you didn't deny it!"

mat shook his head and took a seat in the leather booth. "what's there to deny? we're roommates and she watches ella all the time. we're friends."

tito made a noise in the back of his throat. "you and i are friends, barzy. you make goo goo eyes at her when you think no one is looking."

"no i don't."

anders piped in. "you nearly ran into me on the ice because you were staring at her wearing your jersey."

"no," he defended. "ella was making a really cute face!"

anders blinked at him before rolling his eyes. "sure, barzy."

mat grumbled under his breath and chugged half his beer.

two hours or so had passed with the three of them talking shit about other teams. anders had hinted at leaving, checking his phone just to make sure grace didn't text him. mat found himself doing the same thing to make sure the babysitter hadn't said anything, or maybe to see if you had.

tito didn't seem to give two shits about his phone. and why would he? he was the only one without kids.

they were in the middle of a conversation about the upcoming devils game when mat's phone started buzzing.

sydney martin.

mat picked up the phone, albeit a bit confused. "hello?"

"mat! hey!" sydney greeted. "are you busy?"

mat glanced at tito and anders whose brows were furrowed. "no, why what's up?" his swore his heart stopped in his chest when she said your name. "is she okay? what's wrong?"

"she's a little drunk and crying and asking for you. i don't know if you're sober enough--"

"i'm sober," he said. "only had one beer." he was already reaching for his keys in his pocket. "what's she crying about?"

sydney sighed through the phone. "we saw jason and her old roommate out at the bar tonight. he made a few comments."

mat's jaw clenched. he forced words out through his teeth. "what did he say?"

"mat--"

"no, if he said some shit, sydney, i need to know."

"no," she corrected. "what you need to do is get over here and take her home."

mat was already standing. "i'm on my way."

sydney hung up.

"everything okay?" anders asked.

"probably something to do with mama bear," tito commented.

mat sighed. "she ran into her piece of shit ex and is now inconsolable. i have to go pick her up."

anders snorted. "right. 'have to.'"

mat ignored the comment and said goodbye, already rushing out of the bar to get to you.

it was another ten minutes before he saw you, standing outside a bar with sydney. he could see your tears from the car.

mat jumped out and hurried towards you. sydney all but pushed you into his arms.

and it felt like the world made sense again. you fit perfectly in his arms, against his chest, head tucked into his neck.

"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--"

he kissed the top of your head. "let's get you home, okay?"

exhibit d

ella was saying actual words now like most babies her age. mat used to look at anders, marty, and other parents a little judgmentally, he'll admit, because while babies learning to do things was incredibly cool, he didn't fully understand the hype.

until she said dada for the first time.

it damn near made him cry.

and like for all of her other milestones, you were there beside him with your phone recording the moment. you almost missed it, but you had a sixth sense for those things, figuring out when ella was going to do something incredible.

that was two weeks ago and it still never got old to hear her say his name when he came home or rounded the corner.

he'd been known as mathew, mat, barzy, barzal, gary, and a slew of other names, but dada had to be his favorite. to belong to someone who needed you so wholly was the best feeling in the world.

that and seeing you smile at him.

he'd accepted it now, there was no denying it, not after half the team was on his case about his feelings for you. and how could he not fall in love with you? you were gentle and kind and handled the shittiest situations with so much grace (he wasn't joking, he'd wanted to fight jason the second you came out of your old apartment looking like you'd seen a ghost).

you handled his friends with ease, never letting tito's teasing affect you. you handled the "mama bear" nickname with ease, even laughing at it at times.

you just made his world so much better just by existing in it.

which is why he gave you the day off while he and tito took ella around the city.

ella was fine for most of the day, though she kept glancing around.

"probably looking for mama bear," tito guessed. "i would be too if you were the one looking after me."

mat flipped him off behind ella's back. "i'm not an idiot."

"before you met mama bear, you kinda were."

he rolled his eyes. "sorry for not knowing how to take care of a baby as soon as i find out i have one. most people have nine months to prepare for the arrival of a child. ella literally showed up on my doorstep."

truth be told, he was parroting the words you'd said to him a week ago when the guilt settled in about how much of a shitty father he was. you were quick to correct him, saying the exact things he told tito, that for a man who found out he had a child only a few months ago, he was doing a great job, and he was even better than some other fathers who left the parenting to their partner.

"i'd never leave you hanging like that," he'd said to you.

but you shrugged off his comment. "it's a little different when it's my job to take care of your kid, mat."

"you've done a great job, barzy," beau said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "there's no doubt about it. you can tell because she loves you."

ella smiled at mat and pushed his cheeks together.

"what do you say we get back to mama bear, huh?" he asked his daughter who only seemed to smile wider at the mention your nickname.

it was another fifteen minutes before they were home, rowdy and disturbing the peace and quiet you'd created for yourself.

"we're back!" mat called as tito shut the front door behind him.

they were setting things down on the floor by the door when you walked out in sweats.

"mama bear!” tito cheered.

you smiled and mat couldn't breathe. "how was my baby?"

mat was embarrassed to say he almost answered for himself. "she was great," was what he said instead. "isn't that right, ella bean?"

ella was reaching for you, making grabby hands in your general direction babbling something he couldn't quite make out.

"what'd you say, baby?" you asked.

"mama," she said.

and the room went silent.

mat's eyes kept darting from ella to you like he was watching a game of olympic table tennis. ella kept reaching for you until you finally gave in and held her. it was then he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

mat immediately went into defense mode.

"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't teach her intentionally, she probably picked it up from us calling you mama bear all the time and--"

you shut him up by placing a small kiss on his cheek and squeezing his forearm before turning on your heel.

"let's take a nap, ella bean."

mat couldn't speak, not even when you left the room. tito clapped him on the shoulder before heading towards the kitchen.

"you're so gone for her."

exhibit e

"are you sure about this?" you called from the other room. mat was in the living room adjusting his tie in the mirror on the wall while the babysitter was playing with ella on the floor.

to be honest, when he was complaining to beau about not having a date to some charity event the islanders were hosting, he wasn't expecting beau to suggest you. though, given how beau kept winking and nudging him after every time you and mat so much as made eye contact, it shouldn't have been surprising.

it wasn't that he didn't think of asking you, it was more like he didn't think you'd actually say yes.

"sure about what?" he called back.

"bringing me."

"i've never been more sure about something in awhile."

"you're so dramatic," you laughed.

mat would give anything to bottle up the sound.

"does this look okay?' mat turned when your voice sounded closer than it was a second ago.

he couldn't breathe.

god you looked beautiful.

"oh," you said softly. "your tie matches my dress."

if he could've he would've looked down to confirm your observation, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup, flawless. the navy of your dress was perfectly matched to his tie and pocket square, something that shouldn't matter as much to him as it did.

but it was you.

so it meant the world.

you looked like you were his.

"yeah," was all he could say.

"you never answered my question," you said. "do i look okay? because if it's too much--"

"perfect," he said. "you look perfect."

you smiled. "sydney picked it out." thank you sydney. "you look handsome too mat, though, your tie..." you gestured to his neck so he turned around to see it crooked still. "do you need help?"

"yes please," he sighed. "i've looked up videos, but tito usually helps me do it."

"aw," you cooed. "you looked it up? that's so cute!" your deft fingers began undoing the knot and redoing it way better than he could've.

"how are you so good at this?"

you shrugged. "when i was fourteen, i read a book where a girl tied her husband's tie and i wanted to be able to do the same for the love of my life one day. so i asked my dad to teach me. i'm a bit of a hopeless romantic."

the love of your life.

god he'd give anything to be loved by you.

and it would be so easy just to lean forward a couple of inches and kiss you.

right there.

give in to what he'd been feeling for months.

but the babysitter rounded the corner with ella who was chanting mama and dada which somehow ruined the mood and made him want to kiss you even more.

"be good, sweet girl. we'll see you tomorrow." you made your way to the front door while he kissed his daughter on the head.

"i'm not sure how long we'll be out, but i'll keep you updated," he told the babysitter.

the babysitter nodded, which to be honest, he barely noticed because his attention was back on you and how your dress, while it had sleeves, had a dip in the back. he didn't know that skin could be so alluring, but maybe it was the fact that it was you.

mat cleared his throat and bid the babysitter and ella goodbye before ushering the both of you out of the door.

the drive lasted longer than he wanted it to, mainly because he couldn't wait to get to the event just to show you off.

was this how he was supposed to feel with all of his other exes? the desire to show the world you were his?

"you okay? you're quiet, it's unlike you," you said.

mat shrugged, mainly so he didn't immediately profess his feelings. "just a lot on my mind."

"uh oh. that can't be good," you joked. you leaned over the console and placed your chin in your hand. "you wanna talk about it?"

mat's hands on the wheel tensed, mainly to keep himself from leaning over and kissing you immediately.

"i'm good, maybe we can discuss it later."

you shrugged. "if you say so."

the both of you arrived at the event shortly thereafter with mat passing his keys off to the valet. "stay seated," he told you before getting out and rounding the car to open your door.

"you didn't have to--"

"i know," he smiled. "i wanted to." mat offered you his arm and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep like it belonged there.

the two of you spotted marty and sydney first; the latter all but shrieked when she saw you.

"you look amazing!" she said before tugging you out of mat's arm and into her own. "i told you this dress was the one."

"you didn't say i would've matched mat," you mumbled, though he still heard it over the buzz in the room. he was always listening to you.

marty nudged him. "you seem pleased with yourself."

mat smiled. "i am."

you were laughing at something sydney said when tito came up and clapped him and marty on the shoulders. "let's get you a drink, barzy. you look thirsty." he leaned in. "in more than one way."

mat shoved him off and leaned towards you, gently touching your arm. "i'm going with beau and marty to get a drink, but i'll be back."

you smiled and nodded. "okay, don't worry about me, mat. i'll be fine in your absence."

he let himself be whisked away from you and towards the bar where a drink was placed in his hand pretty quickly.

"so," tito started. "you two match."

"it was syd's doing," marty explained. "she orchestrated the whole thing. picked out the dress based on the tie mat wears every year. it was her new project."

mat flushed but did his best to brush it off.

"i don't know how you did it barzy," tito continued. "she looks good. if i were you i would've--"

"watch it, beauvillier."

"i was gonna say--"

"i don't care what you were gonna say, i probably wouldn't have liked it."

"well then, maybe you should take a chance and ask her out finally. the pining was cute at first, now it's bordering on pathetic."

mat rolled his eyes while marty laughed into his drink.

"look, you have a good thing going, you brought her here as your date, ella calls her mama, you two are as good as locked in and committed. you just have to do the hard work of officially asking her out!"

his gaze travelled to the other side of the room where you were laughing along with sydney and grace. you looked like you belonged in his world.

effortlessly.

mat made a move to go over to you, but marty caught his arm. "this is not the place to ask her out," he said. "as much as you want to, you don't want her thinking it took a pretty dress to get you to take her out."

"that's not the case here--"

"does she know that?"

mat rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

it was another thirty minutes before he made his way back to you. he found you standing alone on the balcony with a glass of champagne in your hand.

"you okay?" he asked. "no one's bothering you or anything, right?"

you looked over your shoulder and snorted. "i'm not important enough to be bothered by the donors, mat."

"don't say that. you're important."

you rolled your eyes. "not what i meant, mathew."

god he loved it when you said his name.

"i just meant that the donors don't really pay attention to me, so i've just been hanging out with the wives all night since my date ditched me," you teased.

"okay to be fair, tito pulled me away, i would've stayed with you all night if i could've."

you blinked. "really?" you asked in a small voice.

he nodded until he found the words to speak. "i love spending time with you. you're one of my favorite people."

within a split second you were closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his waist. your arms snuck under his coat so that the only thing separating your skin from his was the thin material of his dress shirt.

it only took him a split second to react to the hug and wrap you in his arms.

you mumbled against his chest. "you're one of my favorite people, too."

in conclusion:

in the end, there was nothing special about that day. it was a saturday in the middle of july back in coquitlam. by the grace of god, he'd convinced you to come to canada for him, not that you could really refuse as he was the one signing your paychecks, you'd joked (though he made it clear he'd continue paying you even if you didn't go).

and maybe he regretted it a little bit, seeing you bond with his family was another nail in his coffin of falling deeper in love with you. there was no way out now, not that he'd ever want one.

it was one particularly hot day in the summer that mat dragged you and the rest of his family to the beach. and maybe that was a mistake (seeing you in a red bikini in public should be illegal).

you sat in the sand with ella building castles, or at least attempting to, while he tried to drown liana in the water. it wasn't until liana finally dunked him, that he trudged back to shore, bent out of shape and irritated.

"you can dish it out but can't take it?" you teased as he plopped onto the sand next to you.

mat glared instead of saying anything mainly because ella was starting to pick up more and more words and she'd say "fuck" too many times thanks to his mouth.

speaking of, when she saw her dad, ella immediately called him before throwing herself into his lap, completely forgetting about you. it was funny to see mainly because it was a new trend of ella's, ditching you for him. it was even funnier because how put out you'd be about it.

just like now with your lip poked out and your eyes rolling.

"oh don't be a sore loser," mat said. "she used to love you more than me."

"well that makes sense, i'm way more likable than you are."

"i can't argue that."

liana came running into their direct line of sight with a polaroid camera in her hand. "i wanna get a picture of the happy family," she said as her explanation. "say cheese!"

mat froze but you didn't bat an eyelash at the idea of being called family. sure, he'd considered you a part of his ever since you agreed to watch his child, but he didn't know you felt the same.

"smile, mathew," you nudged him in the ribs.

he turned his head towards you, ignoring his sister's groans and chirps. he ignored the sound of a camera clicking and the subsequent flash that followed.

his focus was on you.

"mat, what're you looking at?" you asked. he could vaguely register liana walking away as your eyes searched his face for any hint of what could be going on, but all he could think about was you.

you wearing his jersey and holding ella at the stanley cup finals.

you in a few years with a ring on your left hand that he put there.

you with a newborn baby that was the perfect mix of the both of you.

you, old and crinkly, holding his hand on the couch as you told your grandkids stories.

you.

you.

you.

before he could even stop himself, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.

you responded not a beat later.

and maybe it was embarrassing, how eager he was or how his hand felt like the perfect fit against your cheek. but he couldn't give a shit.

not when he'd waited so long for something like this. for someone like this.

and when you both pulled away, much too soon in his opinion, your eyes were wide.

"why'd you do that?" you whispered.

he shrugged and adjusted ella in his arms. "because my life is better with you in it. because i love you." he cleared his throat. "why'd you kiss me back?"

you smiled and leaned into kiss him again. this time though, instead of pulling fully away, you stayed close so that your lips brushed his. "because i love you too."

[6ft-under-beacon-hills]

𝟮𝟬/𝟮𝟬 𝗩𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗸 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘁

From this voting post to this ficlet. I hope you'll enjoy it!

summary: Due to a series of unfortunate events, Derek temporarily loses his werewolves ability... which apparently includes 20/20 vision. Let's just say Derek has Stiles' attention in a different light now (not that he's aware about it anyway). tags: attempt at humour, canon-typical sterek banters, canon-typical description of violence (mild), 'unfortunate events' are not specified/describe, au setting but sort of close to canon, not beta read

Nobody really realised it. Not even Derek himself.

It first started when Deaton, displaying the usual cryptic persona, held out a small, opaque jar to Derek. He said that the only way to confirm it is by testing it out. But his opinion was beginning to cement itself when Derek had to squint to read the faded label when typically even the slightest scent of it should have been enough for any were-beings to know the jar contained Mountain Ash. (What they confirmed that night was that Derek was no longer a supernatural as he could easily hold a handful of Mountain Ash on his palm).

The second time it happened was when Scott unrolled a blueprint on the table, the details of the structure neatly written on the corners of the pages, it was small but it was readable. Everyone gathered around it, taking turns to rotate the paper to their direction. Derek, however, leaned in, lower than when Stiles wanted to take in all the information on it, and when that was not enough, he took the blueprints and lifted it up to his face – scanning the entire page inches away from his nose.

The pack started to suspect it then.

Scott with all his gentleness and concern was the one who voiced it out. "Is everything okay, Derek?"

Well, not the way Stiles would've said it but this was Scott. He beats around the bushes sometimes, starts a conversation with a question.

"Yeah." Derek grunted, throwing the blueprint back onto the table. And that's the thing with question, often time, people don't give a truthful answer.

Then they went on with planning as if Derek hadn't practically kiss the blueprint paper. Stiles kept his eyes on Derek the entire night.

And the day after, and after, and after.

So almost a week after the shocking revelation that Derek lost his supernatural abilities, Stiles noted a few things about normal-Derek. As normal as Derek could be, that is.

Things like, how Derek flinches when there was a sudden noise (typically Peter's obnoxious laughter), or how he would sigh in frustration when something was too heavy to be easily carried the first time (he'd still managed to carry it though, that muscle-headed beast), or how he would squint at anything he decided to focus on if it was a certain distance from him (probably because he refused another display of grabbing something so close to his face).

The fact that this had gone on for almost week was hilarious. How did anyone not notice it? Or maybe they noticed it but decided leave him be? Derek does have a habit of grabbing someone by the collar and threatening them. Stiles doubted that any of his usual 'rip your throat with my teeth' would hold any actual scariness but he also valued his life not to bring it up carelessly himself.

Stiles strategised. He always does. He chose a day where the pack had a meeting, chose time frame just after work and before the meeting, chose a location where it was public enough to ensure Derek does not misbehave but the two would still have their treasured privacy. It worked wonders, by the way, and for a split second he allowed himself to silently bask in the glory of 'people should listen to me more because my plan always works'. Who was he kidding, he took his head out of his ass and attend to the matters at hand – a grumpy Derek, unable to threaten Stiles or deter away the conversation, thus ultimately admitting that he, in fact, can't see well.

And who is Stiles if he's not prepared, right?

He slid a rectangular black box towards Derek, who rolled his eyes at the item.

"I don't need that."

"Yes. Yes, you do." Stiles was not one to give up. "Have you seen how you look just now? Trying to read the menu like it was a Mathematical problem? Who reads with that much squinting power and scowling?"

A low growl came from Derek's throat.

Stiles went rigid. Well, good to know he can still do that.

"Just wear it okay." Stiles sighed. "Since when are you the advocate of fashion and styles, anyway. Think of it this way; What if Scott needs some help but you can't clearly see which one is Scott and which one is the enemy? You ended up, oh I don't know, shooting Scott???"

That seemed to convince him.

"Fine." Derek grunted. He took the box, unexpectedly gentle with it as he carefully close it back once he took out the glasses. He glanced at Stiles first, in which Stiles held out both of his thumbs out with a grin, and he scoffed as he put on the glasses. He propped his elbows on the table, hands clasped, "Happy?"

When Stiles did not answer, Derek continued, "You didn't have to be so disgusted."

Stiles still did not answer. He was not disgusted for sure, but he can't seem to find his voice. It seemed to be stuck in his throat. He swallowed his saliva just in case. Yes, it must be something that he ate just now, he reasoned, an allergy or something. It'd explained his rising heartbeat.

Derek sighed, a hand reaching to the glasses.

In a speed of light, Stiles stumbled over the empty cup with his hands, knocking it off the table, as he hurriedly stop Derek from removing the glasses. It was an instinctual act more than anything.

The two of them stuck in that awkward position, like two separate lines finally meeting at one point, Derek sat, his fingers pinching the air as Stiles hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his initial movement. Derek observed as Stiles appeared to look panicked, his eyebrows furrowed, the upturnt lips, and the intense focus to his eyes. The sound of the bell ringing against the opening door snapped them back into the present.

Stiles released his hold, he returned to sitting, albeit fidgeting more than ever, as he clear his throat with a small 'Sorry'. Derek simply looked away.

If the new customers came in just a few seconds late, Derek would've seen the way Stiles' eyes drifted from his eyes down to his lips for a split-second. Stiles dragged a hand down his face. "We should go," he said as he stood. "They must be there already."

Derek simply nodded and followed Stiles out.

Fuck, Stiles thought. No way.

"Hey, wait up." Derek called out from behind, picking up the pace to catch up. The setting sunlight reflected on his glasses. "You forgot to pay for your drink, so you owe me now."

Fuck no, Stiles cursed inwardly, glaring at Derek before entering his Jeep.

No way in any hell I'm finding him attractive with glasses on.

a/n: thinking of making a part two maybe...

[mistydeyes]

miss americana: gaz edition

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

series summary: The 141 has varying thoughts about Americans which range from finding them wildly entertaining to thinking they’re the worst people on earth. However you challenge their perspectives when you meet them. Something about you makes them feel a little more patriotic ;)

summary: When you finally move to the UK, there are a few things that confuse you and Gaz is more than happy to help out! From realizing cars are not automatic to the different colloquialisms, he enjoys clarifying the differences in culture.

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x American!Reader

warnings: none

a/n: FINALLY something that I don’t have to do research on because I’m from the US🦅🎆 I have other parts planned to this as well!

also these are 100% inspired by all the questions I ask @lundenloves, she entertains my constant surprise and shock lol

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Whenever you go out with Gaz you ask him to “translate” for you.

When you first walked the rainy London streets with Gaz, you felt like a toddler with all of your questions. "Why does that stationary store have a sale on condoms?" you asked, confused, as you directed his attention to the sign that displayed a sale on rubbers. "You mean erasers?" he corrected, laughing. Next was when you saw a store you liked and immediately directed him inside, saying you needed pants. Despite how cute you looked while shopping, he had to correct you saying they were trousers and that pants had a very different meaning. Finally, the most egregious example was when you went to a restaurant and ordered biscuits to accompany your savory dish of soup. Once the waiter laughed in response, you looked at Gaz confused. "A biscuit is not like what you get in the Southern US, it's more of a cookie," he explained as you flushed with embarrassment. You would have to do some research next time and consult your British tour guide.

You’re an absolute menace when he goes to the grocery store or what he calls the grocers. You will go up and down the aisles, picking up whatever you fancy.

"Where are those chocolate oranges?" you demanded as you went down the aisle with Gaz. He pushed the cart, or trolley as he called it, which was already filled with a variety of snacks. Anything that looked distinctly British and that you knew you couldn't get at home, went in the cart. He had to hold you back from getting biscuits and crumpets. "Do you think we're having a tea party?" he joked as you waddled back with your selection. "Can we?" you asked, excitedly, and Gaz knew you were going to spend another 30 minutes in the tea aisle. "Let's just find you some Terry's and then we can consider getting tea," he corrected and you pulled the cart rapidly ahead. "I'm going to buy a whole orchard of those oranges."

Later on, you did buy a bushel worth of oranges and Gaz gently rubbed your stomach after you ate two entire ones. "They're just so good," you mumbled before you regretted the lactose coursing through your digestives.

Sometimes you’ll entertain him with distinctly American experiences.

"Did I ever tell you I was going to join a sorority in college?" you mused as you sat on the couch. He looked down at you before replying. "A what?" he questioned and you laughed. "You're telling me you've never heard of Greek life!" you exclaimed as he shook his head. You sat up for this fun explanation. "Essentially, if you're a girl you join a sorority and you spend like 4 days meeting the sister, trying to get them to like you, and then you're given a bid," you explained, he nodded as if this wasn't a foreign concept to him. "Then you all gather, usually in a football stadium or field, and they call your name as well as the sorority you're in and you run towards them." At that, he looked in horror. "It sounds cultish," he remarked and you lightly punched his arm. "It's cute! Everyone dresses up in different themes like 'Las Vegas' or 'Teddy Bears'," you smiled but he still shook his head, "it's the hazing that's cultish."

You will always insist on driving but Gaz remembers the one time he let you drive.

"Kyle, just let me drive!" you exclaimed as he beat you to the car door. In all honesty, you were a little used to being on the passenger side back at home but nevertheless, you were annoyed at his constant insistence at driving. "No," he simply said, "need I remind you what happened last time." The minute he said that you remembered the first time he tried to let you drive. First, you were surprised it was a stick shift rather than an automatic but it was nothing to worry about. It took you a few streets to get used to the changing gears but Gaz still had confidence in you. It wasn't until you pulled into a shopping center and started driving on the wrong side of the road that he made you park and take over. "It wasn't that bad!" you exclaimed, buckling into the passenger seat. "Love, my life flashed before my eyes."

He’ll make fun of you when you order coffee with a smile and try to make a friendly conversation with the barista.

As you entered the coffee shop, you were easily the happiest one there. It was 7 am and even Gaz wasn't as cheery as you are. "Good morning, how are you?" you smiled at the young barista. She returned your smile and eased her tired shoulders. "I'm doing alright, what are you having today?" she replied and you took a minute to think. “Just a cup of coffee for him,” you replied, pointing at Gaz. You pondered for a minute as you strained to look at the signs. "What do you think is good here?" you questioned and her eyes lit up as she began to list the options. "If you're looking for coffee, a cortado is my favorite, but I personally recommend trying our tea," she recommended and you nodded. "Hmm I'll take both," you cheerily replied, watching as she typed in your order. When you pulled out your wallet, you looked around curiously and the barista noticed your hesitation. "Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked before you looked up at her. "You don't have a tip jar here?" you wondered and she let out a laugh. "We don't, more of an American thing," she answered and you frowned slightly. You let her know to keep the change and waited patiently for your order at the end of the coffee bar. "You're too cute sometimes," Gaz said, kissing your forehead gently. He made sure to get a picture of you with your two cups, captioning it, "They finally got their cuppa!"

He helps you navigate the surprisingly easy currency and pricing system.

“Kyle I need more,” you corrected as he handed you a handful of notes. You had gone souvenir shopping in London but forgotten your wallet at his flat. “What do you mean, that’s enough,” he replied as he flipped over the postcards to check if he did his math correctly. “What about the tax? You forgot about that,” you said triumphantly and he laughed in response. “Oh this is one of your American things,” he said, his new favorite term to use, “Love, you pay what’s on the sticker.” Cue your shocked face as you couldn’t fathom the moment of anticipation as your items were rung up at home. On the ride home, you were sure to explain to Gaz the ins and outs of the different taxes including that there was no clothing tax in Minnesota, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Vermont. “I cannot believe you don’t know how much you’re paying when you go up to the till,” he remarked, shaking his head in dismay. “The what?”

There are some disagreements on the meaning of different words (especially ones that you both share but mean two completely different things).

On a rare day, the entire 141 was free, and Gaz decided to introduce you to them. You returned back from the grocers and were surprised when Gaz began preparing a late lunch. “We’re not going to eat at the bar?” you asked, noticing him turning the stove on. “No, no they don’t have food there,” he corrected as your face turned to confusion, “what do you think the bar is?” Upon your explanation of an American bar with cheap drinks and greasy food, Gaz laughed and kissed your cheek gently. “If you want to go to a pub, I can just let them know the change of plans. There’s plenty around,” he responded and went to put the items back in the fridge.

When you arrived at the lively pub, Gaz made sure to sit you next to Soap so you could listen better to his thick accent. While you appreciated the gesture, the Scotsman still spoke a mile a minute. Despite your initial uneasiness, you soon fell into lively conversation and entertained everyone with your stories from college and things you found differently in the UK. "I think the time zone was the biggest issue," you said in response to Ghost's question about your transition to living abroad, "although, the lack of ceiling fans was interesting." They all laughed in response before Gaz interjected. "Tell them about when you ordered a baked potato," he joked and your eyes immediately lit up before you went into a long conversation about your experience. As everyone laughed at your bewilderment at the lack of serving the side with bacon, cheese, and sour cream, Gaz looked at you fondly, his favorite American.

[tofics]

Out Of This World

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that’s trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes… wrong, and it’s not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 5245 words

Warnings: A whole lot of anxiety, but probably less than in previous chapters.

Previously: "Who's to say she's not a witch herself?" You gawked at Dean. Is this guy serious? A shriek laugh slipped out of your throat before you could stop it. Me? A witch? The situation was just getting more absurd by the second.

You had visited many different places with Elijah over the years of your relationship. He'd taken you to various countries and cities, exposing you to locations and cultures you'd otherwise have never seen.

Stepping foot inside a bunker, however, was still a first for you.

Sam, who introduced himself as Dean's younger brother, gave you the tour. According to him, it covered the basics: kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms, the library and its adjoining 'war room'. The name weighed in your stomach like a heavy stone. You could only imagine what kind of wars were planned in that room, or who those wars were fought against.

"I know it kind of seems like a maze, but trust me, you'll find your way around soon enough," Sam said as he led you through one of the long corridors back to the library. You couldn't help but notice that he'd deliberately left some doors untouched and unnamed.

"How are you holding up?"

You shrugged in response. "It's fine. I've lived in similar places, I'll get the hang of it."

When Dean had mentioned that they lived in a bunker, you had imagined a small, crowded space; clammy, dimly lit and stacked to the ceiling with cans and containers - basically, your average prepper's bunker. You couldn't have been more wrong. Besides an obvious lack of windows, the complex was eerily similar to the compound you'd lived in for the past years, with its many rooms, hundreds of books in the library and old-looking knick-knacks everywhere. It was both a comfort and a punch in the gut at the same time.

"Not what I meant." An amused smile played around Sam's lips as he held open a door for you. You pondered the question until you arrived back at the library where Sam gestured for you to sit at one of the large tables.

"I mean... I'm okay, I think. I don't really know. This is my first time being stranded in a different universe, so I have no reference points, but I think I'm doing okay, all things considered."

"I'll say." Sam's smile was warm and full of compassion. It reminded you of Dean when he'd paid for your coffee almost a day ago now. You hadn't seen much of that in him after that. He had practically ignored you for the entire ride to the bunker, save for some comments here and there that were more in response to Castiel than directed at you. It was just as confusing as it was irritating. You could understand his suspicion to some extent, but with the way he had snapped at you back in the alley, and the way he'd occasionally looked at you through the rearview mirror... Something just wasn't adding up.

Either way, you found his younger brother much more likeable. He was a lot kinder to you, in the same way Castiel had been during the long hours on your drive to Kansas.

"Alright!" Dean dropped the contents of his arms onto the table you and Sam had taken a seat at. He'd brought all the essentials - silver knife, salt and holy water - as well as an angel's blade and a gun loaded with silver bullets in case things went south, both safely tucked into the back of his pants where you couldn't see them. He’d meant what he’d sad to Cas in the alley way. Things were never that easy. There had to be a catch. And he was gonna find out what that catch was.

"Pick it up, if you'd be so kind." Dean gestured at the silver knife and then crossed his arms as he waited for you to touch the knife. He trained his eyes on you so he wouldn't miss a single thing, no flinch nor twitch. If you were going to have a reaction to any of the basic tests, he'd know.

He watched you cautiously lean forward and inspect the items he'd dropped in front of you with furrowed brows.

"What's this?"

Much to his annoyance, Sam jumped in to explain. "Just a few tests to confirm you're human. It's standard procedure for everyone we bring here. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Dean huffed. "Ts, yeah, we'll see. Go on, then." He nodded at the knife again.

Instead of picking up the knife though, you looked up at him defensively. "What is your problem with me! Why'd you even bring me here if you're so sure I'm gonna do something to all of you?"

He didn't have to think about drawing the angel's knife. It was simply in in his hand as he brought both of them down onto the table in a slam. "Take! The knife!" he bellowed.

"Dean!" Sam chided him from the side, but he didn't care, didn't even look at his brother.

You jerked back, obviously taken aback by his harsh demeanor, and then finally reached for the knife. Dean's fingers tightened around the grip of his own blade. He didn't miss the way your hand was shaking, nor the way your eyes flitted to his blade and back to the table.

"Okay? Can I put it back down?" The knife laid calmly in your palm, your hand showing no sign of not being able to handle silver.

Dean's jaw clenched. So you were no shapeshifter, fine. So what. He felt it in his gut that something wasn't right with you.

"Water's next, then." His eyes stayed trained on you as Sam took the knife from your hand and handed you a shot glass instead, filled with water from the tiny flask Dean had brought.

Again, instead of drinking the holy water, you eyed the content of the shot glass first, then even sniffed at it. Dean felt his throat vibrate as a low growl worked its way up. His patience was worn thin. "Quit stalling. Bottom's up."

There was a defiance in you that he definitely did not like. The way your eyes narrowed at him had his hand twitching, but just then you finally brought the shot glass to your lips and downed the water in one quick go.

Dean watched you like a hawk in the silence that followed, but you just blinked at him. He groaned in frustration.

Not shapeshifter or demon then. What could have counted as good news to other hunters just drove Dean’s frustration up. Could still be a witch.

“Keep an eye on her hands, Sammy. I’m gonna get the shackles,” he growled and tossed the angel's blade over to his brother.

"Shackles?!" Even though you'd stood your ground during their 'tests', the word still came out in a shriek, and in no small part due to the large silvery dagger that Dean tossed to Sam. Paired with his words, it was very clear that the dagger was intended for you.

Sam caught the dagger with ease and you instinctively leaned away from him.

"What? Dean, no - it's okay, don't worry," Sam hastily said to you before turning back to Dean, "is this really necessary?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dean turned on his heels and stared at his brother in visible anger and disbelief. "Since when are precautions not a necessity anymore?"

"Dude, that's not what I'm saying. Just look at her! She's-"

"I am," Dean cut in. "And I see no reason not to be suspicious! Hell, for all we know, she could've opened the port- stay where you are!"

You froze in your spot, hands raised in the air apologetically. "Look, I'm not trying to cause anyone trouble-" you started, but Dean cut you off as well. "Yeah well, too damn late. And put those hands down! Don't even think about hexing us."

I wish I could hex you, you thought in annoyance, but you knew better than to say that out loud. Instead, you inhaled deeply. Breathe. You got this.

"Like I said. I'm not trying to cause anyone any trouble, and clearly my presence here is not... endorsed by everyone." You threw a quick glance at Dean before you continued. "So it's probably best if I just go."

"Like hell it is. You're not going anywhe-"

"Uh, boys, if I may?" Castiel interrupted the scene as he stepped into the library. He was followed by a young man who shyly smiled at you. "I think I might have a solution for this... problem." He nodded at the young man who'd stood patiently beside him, a child-like smile on his face. "This is Jack."

"Cas." It sounded like a warning, almost like a threat, the way Dean spoke the angel's name. You glanced back and forth between Castiel, the young man and Dean. The tension between them was palpable, yet you couldn't say what'd brought it on.

Castiel replied in a similarly low tone, although you weren't sure if it carried the same veiled threat - from what you could tell, this was just the way he spoke. "Dean. You can trust me on this."

Judging by Dean's face, he was not a fan of whatever Castiel was suggesting, regardless of whether he trusted the angel or not, but he didn't interrupt Jack when he stepped forward into your direction.

There was nothing threatening about the young man's approach, but you found yourself taking a step back regardless. Sam and Castiel seemed kind enough, almost sympathetic even, but Dean's attitude towards you had your nervous system on high-alert.

"Oh, it's okay. I won't hurt you." Jack smiled at you again as he closed the distance between the two of you. "May I?" His hands were hovering near your temples, clearly awaiting your permission to touch your head, yet he didn't offer an explanation. It was rather unsettling.

"Uhh..." Your eyes flickered from his hands over to Sam's face. Despite his furrowed brows, he still gave you an encouraging nod, and so after you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you gave your okay.

Despite Klaus' best efforts, Elijah hadn't spoken much in the first night of your absence.

While their sisters had been out studying the ancient scrolls again, Elijah had sat in the compound's office and stared into the flames of the fireplace. Klaus had tried his best to be there for him, but his older brother had ignored all his attempts, save for the glass of whiskey he'd slipped into his hand and had dutifully refilled throughout the hours.

Even though Elijah had appeared calm on the outside, Klaus knew that there was a storm raging inside of his brother. It was no secret that you meant everything to Elijah. 'Always and forever' was the Mikaelson motto, their pledge to each other that come what may, family would come first, always, forever. You had become a member of that family a long time ago. Rebekah and Freya were not trying to find ways to bring you back purely out of loyalty for their brother, but because they cared for you like they cared for each other.

What the Mikaelson siblings felt for you could only be topped by Elijah's fiery love for you. Klaus had seen his brother fall in and out of love multiple times over the centuries. Lovers came and went as time progressed - an almost unavoidable process in the life of an immortal. Still, he had never seen his brother fall for someone in the same way that Elijah had fallen for you. He loved you deeply and openly and with an intensity that none of his previous matches had been able to ignite in him.

His brothers silence troubled Klaus, and he was not a man that was easily troubled. Paranoid, yes, but worries about his siblings usually rarely extended further than what consequences would brought about for Klaus himself.

This was different, though. Usually, Klaus was known to be the one to act out of blind rage, led by feelings and with little concern for the consequences of his actions. Elijah's moves were always more calculated and thought-through, the counterpart to Klaus' reckless nature. Even when it came to protecting their family, Elijah never acted on a whim.

And yet, Klaus couldn't shake the feeling that with your disappearance, all bets were now off the table.

He couldn't know, of course, how soon he would be proven right.

Elijah was teetering on the edge of madness.

Out of all the battles his family had fought throughout the centuries, all the hurdles they had overcome and obstacles they'd had to face - this one could be the one to tip him over the edge.

In all of his wretched time on earth, he'd had but two rules: family comes first, and do what must be done.

The latter was commonly a result of the first one. Elijah would stop at nothing to ensure the safety of his family, no matter the consequences. There was no such thing as a price too high to pay. If there was something, anything, that could be done to remedy a situation one of his family members found themselves in, he would find it, and he would get it done.

But what was there to be done now? What could he do, now that you were god-knows-where, lost to a universe that wasn't his?

There were no arms to twist, no men or women to bribe, no deals to be made or lives to be threatened. There was no one to blame besides Athea, that wicked scum of a witch, who was already dead, having succumb to her own spell that took you from him.

He'd have his sister bring her back to life if they could, if not to reverse the spell, then to rip her apart limb by limb, slower and more painful than her previous death. He had wished for her death so many times before in the previous months, but now, it just wasn't enough. One death simply would not suffice for what she had done. This banishment, this punishment that you were now enduring had been meant for her. Against all odds, she had found a way to bring about even more suffering with her death. It was as much an insult as it was the superior move. They had been checkmated without ever even sensing the danger.

The most gruesome aspect of it all was his inability to do something about it.

Never before in his life had Elijah ever felt so useless, so powerless, so completely and absolutely helpless.

So he did the only thing he could do.

He drowned himself in whiskey and waited for his sisters to return. Maybe they would bring news. Maybe they wouldn't. Nothing he could do about it, but drink and wait.

And drink he did.

"Brother, wake up! They're back." Klaus' voice sharply cut through the hazy dream Elijah was experiencing. He found himself in the same place from the night before, where he sat down in front of the fireplace and drowned his pain and worries in as much whiskey as Klaus would supply. The glass still sat in his hand, its bottom caked by remnants of the dark liquid.

"Get on with it! I want to know what they have found. I'd expect so would you." The irritation in Klaus' voice did not go undetected, but Elijah didn't care, nor did he quicken his movements. His body was stiff from the hours it had spent locked in the same position and his head felt dull, empty and exhausted from the worries that had hounded him deep into the night and the alcohol he had consumed.

"Oh, for Christ's sake." The glass was ripped from Elijah's hand and he was pulled upright abruptly by the collar of his shirt. Despite his dazed state, Elijah's hand caught Klaus' wrist as quickly as his brother had moved on him. "Take your hands off of me, Niklaus, unless you wish to spend the better half of the next hour re-attaching them to your body."

Klaus arms went up in defense, paired with that god-forsaken, devilish grin his brother was known for. "Alright, alright, no need to be so prickly about it. Just get a move on so we can hear what they've got to say."

What they had to say was a whole load of nothing. Their sisters looked tired and defeated, and Elijah could tell from the second he laid eyes on him that they did not come bearing news, or at least the kind that could have lifted his spirits.

According to their studies, the simplest solution - reversing the spell - was out of the question, as the original spell had been worded in such a way that a reversal was impossible. This didn't surprise Elijah. After all, it had been part of why they had chosen this particular spell in the first place. Its irreversibleness was what had drawn them to it in the first place.

Since a simple reversal was out of the question, a new spell would have to be created to bring you back. This proved to be a difficult task on various levels. For one, a spell of such power had to be perfect down to the last syllable and its pronunciation. The slightest deviation or variation in pitch or emphasis could have a tremendous impact on the spell and its effectiveness, beyond things imaginable.

"It would need to be thoroughly tested to ensure full efficiency and to rule out possible side-effects. The whole endeavor could take months, if not more. Not to mention the amount of power it would take to conduct the tests. We would have to send something or someone to another universe, which on its own is a massive feat, and then bring them back. Even with all of you by my side, I don't know if it would be enough." Freya's voice was coarse with exhaustion. His sister was visibly spent. On any other day, Elijah would have ushered her to bed to rest. Today, he found himself indifferent to it.

"Well, that should not be a problem. What else do we have a little extra witch for?" Klaus spoke smugly from his side. "Where is she, by the way? Davina?"

"She left." Rebekah sighed and dropped into one of the arm chairs in the foyer. "And rightly so, as much as I hate to say it. I promised her to get Kol back, and now, we have yet another thing that takes precedence. Understandably so," she added with a look at Elijah, then continued. "Still, I don't know if we can count on her for this endeavor."

"We shall see about that. Kol is as much part of this family as is Y/N." Klaus spoke before Elijah could interject. It was an odd feeling, to weigh a brother against his girlfriend, but Rebekah was right: you took precedence. Kol was already dead, and yet, he was still there in the ancestral plane, making him closer even in death than you in life. It was the only acceptable option to Elijah, that you were still alive. If you died in another universe, entirely impossible to reach or protect... He pushed the thought away at once, unable to complete it.

"I don't know if Davina would see it that way. I believe her commitment to our family does not stretch much further than our beloved brother." Freya's voice had a sourness to it as she rubbed her face and sighed. "Even so, it doesn't matter. Until we know where precisely Y/N has ended up, it doesn't matter who we have on our side or not." The eldest sister paused for just a moment, seemingly gathering herself before continuing. "If we are able to create a retrieval spell - and that's a big if - it has to be tethered to a specific location. I'm no physicist, but from what we've gathered so far there is an infinite number of universes besides ours. The energy it would take to send the retrieval spell through each universe... It would have to be infinite as well. It's simply not possible."

Silence settled in the foyer as each of the siblings digested Freya's words. Elijah pressed his hands into fists. Your rescue slipped further out of reach with each detail they uncovered. Would he ever see you again?

He dug his nails deeply into the palm of his palms, unaware that he was drawing blood.

"Would it be possible to track me, if you were to send me after her?"

The faces of his siblings all turned to him at once.

"You cannot possibly be suggesting that we send you to a different universe as well?" Disbelief mixed with a hint of anger in Rebekah's face. It was enough to make the volcano that bubbled in Elijah erupt.

"And why not, sister? What would you have me do instead? Sit by and watch as you and Freya do all the work?" His words slowly rose to a shout and his legs started moving on their own accord, carrying Elijah through the foyer at a restless pace. "You cannot possibly expect me to idly stand by as the hours pass and we know nothing of her whereabouts. NOTHING!"

"Come on, let's find you a room and get you settled."

Whatever Jack had done, it hadn't take more than ten seconds. One moment his fingertips were gently touching your temples, and the next he'd dropped his hands from your face and announced that you were not, in fact, a witch.

Everyone in the room had relaxed a little at Jack's declaration, except of course for Dean. He'd just stared at you for a couple of seconds before he'd turned on his heels and had left the room.

"Here you are," Sam said and gestured around the room. "Bathroom's right through that door and you can put your things in that dresser over there."

Even though your motel room had been more spacious, this was clearly an upgrade in every way. The furnishing was sparse and functional - a bed, a nightstand, dresser and desk - but it looked clean and in shape, almost like the exact counterpart to the room you'd spent the previous night in. The motel room had been sucked dry by too many occupants, but this, this was a space waiting to be lived-in.

It was more than you could have hoped for. As far as you were concerned, you would have taken the couch in the library if you'd had to.

"Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it."

"Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'll let you get settled in." He patted you on the shoulder and was almost out the door when you called him back.

"Uhh." You chuckled awkwardly. "I hate that I have to ask, because you've already done so much, but umh... Any chance you got some spare clothes laying around somewhere? It's just - I didn't exactly plan for a trip, let alone an interdimensional one, so... This is kind of all I've got."

He left with the promise to find you something for the night and before you knew it, you were in your new room all by yourself. It felt eerily quiet, the only sound coming from a clock above the door to the hallway, and you realized it was the first time you were on your own since you first ran into Dean and Castiel.

It was kind of nice. The past 24 hours felt like a whirlwind and the sudden quiet was almost soothing, if it wasn't for the tight knot in your chest. You had first felt it when the realization dropped that the spell had gone wrong, and it had only tightened since. Meeting Dean and Castiel had been distracting and intimidating enough to temporarily distract you from the sensation, but that only made it more noticeable now that all of the distractions were gone.

You dropped on the edge of the bed and planted your face in your hands. The inner corners of your eyes were already stinging again, alerting for a fresh wave of tears, but you could only sigh at the prospect of crying yet again. You'd already spent so many tears, you were almost surprised you had any left at this point. Regardless, the first drops came quickly and you gave in with another sigh, letting the tears roll down your cheeks as fast as they would come. What else were you going to do anyway?

The answer was taking a shower, as it turned out just a few minutes later. As quickly as the tears had come, they'd quickly dried up to an occasional drop and a lot of sniffles, leaving you as a puffy-faced, snotty mess. Your whole face felt sticky and itchy and your body didn't feel nowhere near fresh either, so you forced yourself off of the bed and into the shower.

The first warm jets of water brought about another wave of tears, although this one tasted more of exhaustion and less of sadness and pain. You were no stranger to crying, but here, in this unfamiliar world, it seemed to be all you could do to process your emotions. So you let yourself cry into the steady water stream for as long as your body needed to while still taking care of yourself. The tears rolled as you shampooed your head and they shook your body as you lathered it in shower gel, but they subsided into small little sobs as you rinsed yourself off, an occasional hiccup sneaking in and replacing a sob here and there.

By the time you were drying yourself off, your eyes were red and swollen, but you still felt miles better than before. There was a comb in the mirror cabinet above the sink, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as some generic deodorant. Just like the furniture of the room, the cabinet only held the basics, and you made a mental note to ask for sanitary products the next time you saw Sam. For now though, the few items would do. You brushed the stale taste out of your mouth that came with the fits of crying and then combed through your hair carefully, taking your time with the knots that had formed in the chaos of the last day.

Sam had apparently snuck into your room and dropped off a change of clothes on your bed while you had been in the shower. Whether they had spare stuff laying around or he'd taken a few things out of his own closet, you didn't know, but everything was a few sizes too large on you, save for the pair of underwear that was definitely a woman's pair and, miraculously, more your size. You were thankful for it all regardless. The clothes all smelled freshly washed and were quite comfortable thanks to their large size. Together with the shower, they almost made you feel comfortable. Almost.

A chair splintered on the wall, thrown with such force that its parts flew across the foyer. Elijah's chest was heaving, his breath shuddering as he forced himself back into a calm state. His sister's voice sounded from behind him.

"I understand your concern-"

Elijah flipped around and stared at Freya with fury. She raised her hands in return, but didn't retreat.

"-but even if we did use the same spell on you, I couldn't promise that you would end up in the same place as her. The incantation we used did not specific a specific place for the person to be sent to. You could end up in a different universe entirely and then you'd both be lost to us."

Elijah closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Once he was sure he could control his voice, he spoke quietly. "Do not suggest that she is lost to us." One hand was pinching the bridge of his nose, his other was held out in the air like a stop sign. There was a slight tremor in his arms, barely detectable to anyone non-human, and it was a clear indicator of how much strength it took him to remain calm in this moment.

Freya replied equally as quiet. "That is not how I meant it. All I meant to say is that I cannot guarantee that you will be sent to the same place she was sent to. The risk is simply too big."

Elijah's hands balled into fists again. "You cannot send me there, we don't know where there is, and we cannot get her back unless we find out where she is. Did I get that right?"

"...yes." The defeat was audible, despite the small word. Elijah sighed as the emotion carried over to him and flooded him from head to toe. He couldn't lose you.

"Elijah, we need some rest." Rebekah's hand found his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "You know she means the world to us too, but we can't work on empty tanks. Let us recharge, then we'll go back to work."

It took a moment, but he eventually nodded. His sisters both briefly touched his back, an expression of empathy and comfort, then headed up the stairs to their respective rooms. Elijah stood for a moment, then straightened, a new destination in mind.

"And where might you be off to, brother?" Klaus asked from behind him. Elijah didn't turn around to reply.

"Do some research of my own."

Unsure of what to do, you strolled around your room. Sam said he'd be back for dinner, and while he didn't explicitly tell you to stay in your room, it felt like the safest choice. Despite Jack's okay on you and you seemingly having passed all of their tests, Dean's reaction had been anything but reassuring and you didn't trust the man not to slap some shackles on you the next time he saw you, so you decided to inspect your room instead.

The drawers were all empty, but the desk held a notepad and some pencils. For a lack of better things to do, you sat down and began to scribble down the list that you drew up in the diner.

Find out if magic exists in this universe.

Safe to put a check behind that. You couldn't exactly tell yet what kind of magic this universe held, but they did have rifts too, as well as ways to open them, even if they were different from yours. On top of that, they had angels, as well as a variety of other things apparently, judging by their 'tests'. So: check.

2. Find the spell that brought you here.

By some miracle, stumbling across Dean and Castiel had led you straight into the arms of knowledgeable men on the topic, and they seemed to have a large library at hand. Going by their hunter's profession, you bet some of these books would have spells in them.

3. Find the ingredients.

Depending on what number 2 on your list would reveal, it would likely also come with a list of ingredients needed to complete the spell. You just hoped it wouldn't be more difficult than gathering the materials had been back in your universe. They did say something about angel's grace... You'd have to ask them about that.

4. Find someone to perform the spell for you.

Well. It looked like you had your work cut out for you.

It was time to interview the Winchesters.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Tag list:

@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings @imoompalumpa @wildernessflora @spnaquakindgdom

@zepskies @starkleila @scripteria @estrelacaida @joonseuph0ria

@jamerlynn @katiergriff @chaersun @xxqueenwxtchxx @onlyangel-444

@chochoooooo @haleym1234 @gigilovescatsx