#you should watch Wolf's Rain

[natmasthestinkylizardliker]

oh hell yeah this exact AMV

my earliest youtube favourites are all AMVs, I will never unfavourite them just because it's a window into my personal history.

like, look at these

I was such a specific type of kid lmao

I'm pretty sure most of these are like, unwatchable by modern standards, they were uploaded in like 144p, so now are just like, pixel smears and compression artifacts

you should watch them though to join little 14 year old me in my obsession with the sad wolf anime

links under the cut

[teatitty]

At are some of your other fandoms/shows/movies you like.

Also I think you may like Doctor Who(idk if you seen it)

My list of fandoms is too long just check my AO3 [linked on the side of my blog] for stuff I've written for. But not FFXV because I'm not in that fandom anymore. Also no I don't like Doctor Who I know that's shocking to hear whenever I tell people because I'm british but it's never interested me. The Van Gogh episode is good on its own though

As for stuff I just like generally? Uhhhh big fan of Ghibli films, Durarara, Shaman King, Akatsuki no Yona, Golden Kamuy, a fun as fuck movie called Redline [I rewatch it at least once a year lol] and stuff like Ghost in The Shell, Cowboy Bebop, Gangsta and Black Lagoon

[charliemwrites]

As promised some time ago: Gaz!

The new house is… well, you don’t dislike it. It’s beautiful, already renovated while you were busy selling the old house. Just new, unfamiliar. You’re unaccustomed to the noises it makes, the shadows it casts, the echoes off the walls.

You’re not too proud to admit (to yourself and your dogs) that you’re a bit of a chicken the first couple weeks. Too many nights watching spooky media about people living in walls or stalking new tenants — despite Skipper’s best efforts. So you keep one or more of the dogs with you at all times, fingers in their fur and lights on as you go. Ghost has been especially tolerant, leaning against your leg when the sun goes down and the house feels too strange.

You’ve always been grateful for the peace of mind that four huge wolf-dogs brings, but never more than now. With several sets of teeth surrounding your bed and guarding your locked doors, they’ve made the transition so much easier on your nerves.

The new forest behind the house is also some cause for concern. The first day you brought them home, you went out by yourself for quick inspection of the yard and immediate area. Sharp-eyed looking for glass, metal, or anything else dubious.

You came back to four extremely grumpy pups and were basically bullied out of leaving them alone again. Skipper was especially huffy that night.

But things feel like they’re beginning to settle. You’ve gotten a bigger couch, bigger floor cushions. There’s a second story to this new house — or more of a half-floor really. A loft? It consists of the master bedroom, master bathroom, and a sort of open-spaced landing that you’re using as a satellite collection zone for toys.

Sometimes, when you’re on the couch, you’ll catch a bit of movement and get spooked by one of the boys staring from the railing that overlooks the den. Have fussed at wagging Johnny twice now for it.

Still, the transition to your new home has been as smooth as you could ask for with four giant, protective dogs. You miss the old place a bit; have the irrational fear that you’re going to miss another displaced dog in need of a home, but you try not to think about it.

Maybe you should have thought about it a little more.

One evening, you let the boys out for their pre-bed potty. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in your hand, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Winter will be setting in soon. It’s already cold enough to set your teeth on edge. Never mind that it’s been raining all day, only just letting up to light patter at sunset.

Commotion at the edge of the (much larger) yard catches your attention. All of your boys seem to be gathered around something. They’re not barking or growling, and from the dim porch light, you don’t see hackles raised but still. Anything that catches their attention is worth investigating.

Cursing under your breath, you set your mug aside, slip into some shoes, and snatch up your phone for the flashlight. It’s only when you’re halfway there that you remember to pray that it’s not something dead. Or dying. Or creepy.

“Please don’t let this be a spooky doll or something,” you whisper to yourself.

Skipper must hear you, because his head pops up. He doesn’t… look concerned. But he’s a dog, how would he know that something in the yard is of human concern?

He trots away from their little congregation to meet you, almost like he’s escorting you to whatever they’re gathered around. You realize why when the flashlight illuminates a ball of soaked fur.

“Oh,” you breathe, “oh no…”

You gently nudge Konig aside to kneel down, a dry sob bubbling up in the back of your throat when you hear a quiet, miserable mew. A pair of brilliant green eyes squint and shy from the light, wide and sad.

“Oh, baby,” you coo. “Please come here. C’mon.”

You slowly, carefully extend a hand. Palm up, just a couple fingers. You’re not as familiar with cats anymore, but you remember enough to know that there‘ll be no scooping it up, even if it needs help. It’ll have to come to you of its own accord.

Relief floods you when you get the briefest cursory sniffle, and then the kitty is bumping its head against your hand for a scritch. You take a moment to pet what you can, heart breaking a bit with each shiver in the cold.

You keep coaxing it closer, gentle words and patient petting, getting bolder with your touch. When it’s finally close enough, the faintest purr rattling in its chest, you decide to try.

Apart from a nervous glance, the cat remarkably tolerant about letting you wrap your now-wet blanket around it, then scooping it up.

“Oof, you’re a big kid, huh?” You mutter, pausing to get a better hold. The darkness and hunkering down to preserve body heat was deceptive. This cat feels huge. “That’s alright, I’m used to it.”

You breathe a huge sigh when you enter the house again. It’s toasty inside — or at least it feels that way after sitting in the cold rain for fifteen minutes.

The boys files in after you, politely shaking off at the door before stepping into the mudroom. (Another upgrade you’ve been extremely grateful for.

You pause, try to get your bearings. You’ve got four soaked dogs, one possibly hypothermic cat, and you.

Christ, sometimes you wish you had an extra pair of hands.

“Okay. Let’s get the heater first.”

It’s already going, so you just turn it up a bit more, warm enough to start drying everyone. Then you go to the cupboard, sparing an arm from your oversized bundle to extract a towel.

You cross back to the heater and sit down, gently nestling your cat-burrito into the well of your legs.

The same big green eyes blink up at you, another mewl comes from it.

“Hi,” you croon, “isn’t that better already? Much warmer in here.”

You present the towel for inspection, let it sniff and decide it’s non-threatening before gently wiping it along the clumped fur. The dogs, to your surprise, don’t crowd to investigate. Skipper stops by to give the cat a sniff, before ultimately flopping down against your hip. But the other three arrange themselves around you, watching, but giving you and the kitty some space.

Remarkably thoughtful of them, and you tell them as much, praising their good behavior. The kitty, in the meantime, just… stares. It’s been a long time since you interacted with one, but you don’t remember your grandma’s tabby being so…

“Can I help you, little one?” You ask, grinning when it blinks at you slowly. You brush a finger under its chin, grinning when its eyes go half-lidded and nearly cross. “You’re worse than my Johnny boy with the staring.”

You receive a huff for that and laugh softly, making kissy noises at him until his tail thumps against the absorbent floor mat.

The cat is back to staring, though, ears up. You hum and keep up the half-scratching, half-drying technique until its fur starts to fluff up and you can take proper stock of the animal you’ve just rescued.

You weren’t kidding about it being big. Biggest cat you’ve ever seen — you’d almost think it was wild if not for the sweet face. You’re sure you might have seen the breed somewhere before…

Maine coon, maybe? Or… Siberian something or other? It’s fluffy, that’s for sure. But even without all the fluff that’s beginning to poof out like a dirty cotton ball, it’s a big cat. Big enough to be an average dog.

You huff in amusement that more it dries out.

“You look like a little storm cloud,” you giggle. “Well, little being relative.”

You receive a more normal-sounding meow for that. It thrills you that it’s already sounding better. Less sad, for sure.

The purring even start up again, developing into a deep hum like a running motor. It’s instantly soothing, the same way listening to the dogs’ breathing is. It lulls you until you’re nearly dozing sitting up. Only the wet nose of Skipper against your cheek rousing you.

“Jesus, right,” you say, jolting. Take a drowsy look around. All the boys seem dry or mostly dry. The only damp spot left on your new feline friend seems to be the feet, which won’t take much longer. “Let’s get inside proper.”

You lock up the mudroom and turn the heater low again, then urge everyone into the den. The cat doesn’t even hesitate, threading cleverly between your moving legs as you shuffle to the kitchen.

You prep an extra bowl of food and leave it up for the cat where the dogs can’t get it. Give it one last stroke from head to tail before trudging for the bathroom.

Normally, you’d be more concerned about leaving a cat in a house full of dogs. But the boys proved already that they have no interest in hurting the cat, despite the earlier crowding. Figure there are plenty of places to hide if they do make the kitty uncomfortable regardless.

The hot shower only serves to thicken the drowsiness blanketing you, leaving you heavy-lidded and sluggish. You pull the curtain aside to the usual audience of huge eyes, a new pair among them — the cat perched on the bathroom sink.

When you lean to grab your towel, they stick their face close for a sniff and you pause, always patient for curious creatures. When the little nose gets too close to your mouth, you twist and drop a quick peck to its snout before leaning back. The flabbergasted look makes you laugh as you begin toweling off.

“What a funny little thing you are,” you coo. “Would you like to be mind.”

“Mrrrow!”

“Yeah, I made a good first showing, huh?”

You have absolutely zero supplies for a cat, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, you just want to climb into bed and conk out. Home-making and animal-saving takes a lot out of you.

As always, the furry procession to your room leaves you warm and happy. Johnny always the first to hop into bed, licking your shoulder when you climb in beside him. Konig takes your other side, much more willing to snuggle now that you have the California King mattress to accommodate your pack. Ghost licks at Skipper’s chin in the doorway, then jumps up to lie by your hip, cuddling Johnny.

Skipper comes up last, padding over to receive one last kiss from you before lying by your feet, on the side closest to the door. You’re less concerned about kicking him now with the extra room, and enjoy the heat for your toes.

You almost startle at the soft thump next to your head. Turn and blink to see big green eyes blinking down at you, a purr nearly rattling your brain.

“Oh, hi,” you murmur, “make yourself at home.”

The cat does just that, curling himself onto a pillow and pressing his forehead into your neck. You nearly melt as you flick off the light. It’s warm and quiet and dark, just the breathing of warm bodies and soft tap of rain.

“I love you all so much,” you whisper, fingers threading into Konig’s coat. “My loves.”

The house’s new echoes are still unfamiliar, so it’s just a product of being half-asleep that makes you think you hear voices in the middle of the night.

Main Story | Price pt. 2

Masterlist

[stellamancer]

prompt: peel back the layers of me, on purpose or accidentally + “i’m not stopping— not now, not ever.”

summary: in the aftermath of everything, megumi is barely surviving.

wc: 1.8k

contains: gn!reader (reader is not a sorcerer but aware of jujutsu society), canon divergent with spoilers post shibuya incident arc, mentioned character deaths (megumi is the only survivor 😭), angst, hurt/comfort

co-written by @seiwas as part of our milestone event collab: keep this love unspoken (tell me as loud as you can) [closed]

You find Megumi in the rain.

He stands from a distance, back hunched and fingers twisted in what you know calls for Divine Dogs. The moonlight lends itself to his shadows, a distant light cast upon what’s left below—illuminations over darkened silhouettes.

You know he can’t summon them anymore, their powers having trickled over to the handful of shikigami he has left. But you think at this moment, body slack and drenched in rainfall, that he looks like one right now—a lone wolf staring at the moon, searching, reaching.

(His howls are deafeningly silent.)

“Megumi!” you shout, the umbrella in your hand shaking as your waterproof jacket shelters you without warmth.

He doesn’t respond—you didn’t expect him to, anyway.

Megumi’s been different for a while. Withdrawn.

And though he’s always been hidden within layers of himself, it never used to be this many; he would always shed one off when it came to you.

“You’re going to get sick!” you attempt again.

You’ve known this secluded clearing since you were 10. It lies deep inside the training grounds of the college, hidden within tall trees and winding paths—as if it was always meant to safe-keep the memories made in them: the first time Megumi ‘trained’ with Gojo at age 7; the day when you, wide-eyed and seeing, knowing of the horrors of this world–his world–were eventually introduced as his training companion years later.

He doesn’t move.

You take a deep breath, stepping towards him.

Companion, not partner is what you are.

With your abilities limited to just seeing, you never had to fight his battles. Instead you watched, sat on the sidelines as you both grew, always around but never beside him—because, what else could you do?

Even when his world continued to take, and take, and take; Tsumiki. Nobara.

Gojo.

Yuuji.

It was (is) all you could (can) do.

Walking towards him now, with unease weighing on every press against crunching grass and sinking soil, you wonder if this is what it feels like to enter a battlefield.

The air is thick and damp, a sickening cold that seeps deep into bones—when you get close, he’s heaving, each rise and fall of his back punctuated by ripples of white cotton clinging.

“Megumi,” you say softer but not any less firm, “we should head back.”

The word rings in his ears.

(Back? Back to what?)

He turns his face to the side, droplets falling from the tips of his hair and down the slope of his nose. It’s awful how you’re reminded of a scene completely different from this—him, at 10, fighting back a smile as you play in the rain with his lone two shikigami.

“Still training,” he finally speaks, tone flat. Unfeeling.

Except he isn’t. You know he isn’t—isn’t training, isn’t unfeeling.

Eight years, you’ve known Megumi, two since he lost everything. You’d always seen it as a blessing that your hands could never bear the power to be weaponized against anything, but now you curse every twisted fate in jujutsu society that there’s no one left to carry the burden but Megumi.

You sigh, extending your arm as you step closer to cover him with the umbrella.

“I’ll keep you company then.”

That’s what you are after all—it’s what you’ve always been, throughout the past two years especially. His eyes no longer meet yours as if speaking to you without talking; the small smile he used to give you now falls flat, static. Fingers that once moved fluidly, surely, now fidget as he picks at the sides of his nail beds, skin peeling.

“You don’t have to,” he mutters tightly, the call for Demon Dogs morphing into clenched fists beside him.

Something in him feels like snapping.

How can you just always be there?

Waiting. Tending.

It shouldn’t tick him off as much as it does right now, but it does, because—

“Well,” you clear your throat, shifting your feet, “someone has to keep you dry if you’re staying out here.”

—you say it so easily, as if this is something you just do and not give.

As if he should even be here, when he shouldn’t. Especially not on the receiving end of it.

His chest burns.

“I didn’t ask for that,” he spits out, grabbing hold of the edge of the umbrella to tip it over, knocking it out of your hands.

It falls to the ground and rolls away, but you don’t move to grab it— your eyes are on Megumi.

Only Megumi.

The fire in his chest rages on, bright and hot, the flames licking at his ribcage. It hurts, it’s painful. His heart is charred, with little left to serve as kindling and yet, despite the rain, despite everything, it remains ablaze.

Just like the fire in your eyes right now.

Rather than reach for the umbrella, you take a step toward him, the rain saturating your clothes, your skin, but you don’t seem to notice, don’t seem to care.

All Megumi can think of is how it's unfair.

You shouldn’t be wasting your time on him, not with his bloodied hands and dark thoughts. He never should have survived, he didn’t deserve to survive. Fushiguro Megumi is living on time that isn’t just borrowed— it’s stolen, ripped from the hands and souls of those far, far more deserving.

Time is precious, he’s learned, but here you are trying to throw yours away.

“Megumi, please,” you say and while your words are soft, there’s a tautness there that Megumi painfully recognizes. Tsumiki would use that tone too, in her patience, in her frustration, whenever Megumi would act out. He’d always bend to her will eventually, but you are not Tsumiki.

He will not give in to you.

“Can’t you see how tired you are?” you plead. It doesn’t matter; he doesn’t care, and either you don’t seem to realize, or you do and you don’t care either. “I know you want to keep training, but I really think that maybe you should turn in for the night. Get a good night’s sleep and start again in the morning.”

Megumi hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages, and honestly speaking, he doesn’t think he will ever again. How can he when he knows that Yuuji and Nobara will never wake up again? He starts to turn away from you. “I’m not tired.”

“Megumi!” He hears you take another step and feels the slightest tug at his shirt—

Gojo gave him this shirt for his 15th birthday. It was two sizes too large and exactly the type of thing Gojo liked to wear himself. Whenever Megumi wore it, he looked childlike and ridiculous; in fact the first time he put it on Gojo laughed so hard that Megumi swore he saw tears in his eyes. Megumi remembers snapping at him, telling him if he was going to buy someone clothes as a gift, it would be best to buy clothes that actually fit, but Gojo had merely laughed it off, telling Megumi he’d grow into it one day.

Now Gojo is gone, but just as he said, Megumi's grown into the shirt. It fits better now, even though it’s worn and fraying. Whenever he wears it he can almost hear Gojo laughing at him, telling Megumi ‘I told you so’ in that annoying voice of his.

All he hears right now is the ripping of fabric.

Megumi’s body goes completely still and you are oddly silent.

It’s almost as if time has stopped.

But then the apologies start spewing from your mouth, unending and torrential, just like the rain above. “Oh my god, Megumi, I’m so sorry, I—”

He turns around to face you, and the shirt rips even more, tearing more and exposing his chest. Any hope of the shirt being repaired is gone, but Megumi doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, because all he sees right now is you, fretting and wide eyed, “I told you to just leave me alone!”

You fall silent, your words and apologies staunched. The downpour surrounding you both only seems to get louder, more relentless, and the both of you are soaked to the bone. There’s no way that either of you are getting out of this without catching a cold, but Megumi doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t—

“Why do you keep doing this?” he demands. “Why don’t you just—”

He stops short, all the words in his head trying to fly out of his mouth all at once.

In the midst of his silence, you speak up, your voice barely audible, “...just… what?”

Stop.

Leave.

Go away.

“...this is pointless,” he finally answers.

“No, Megumi it’s—”

“It is!” he argues, his voice rising. “You’re wasting your time with me, so just stop already!”

Life isn’t fair. Megumi learned that long, long ago. When his father abandoned him, when Tsumiki fell into a coma, when Yuuji died over and over, when Gojo died at his hands. Time and time again Megumi has had it beat into his head, burned into his mind that life isn’t fair.

And neither, he’s learned, are you.

“I won’t,” you say, voice firm, resolute. You take another step toward him, and it feels almost as if Megumi’s entire world is shaking, tilting on its axis and flipping upside down. The fire in your eyes burns bright and hot, the flames calling to the one raging in his chest. It aches and yearns. His heart is smoldering, but still it beats, drumming to a beat that’s at odds with the torrent surrounding you both.

You reach for him, and before Megumi can try to dodge, before he can slip through your fingers, your hands cup his cheek, gentle and firm before you bring him down so that you are both eye to eye. He sees himself reflected in your eyes, widened and bewildered. The only thing you see is Megumi.

Only Megumi.

“I’m not stopping,” you say, thumbs pressing into his cheeks, as if you’re trying to leave a mark. “Not now, not ever!”

And then you kiss him.

It’s like a shock to his system— lightning striking the ground where he stands. You’re putting everything into this, your frustration, your desperation, your love. Megumi can feel it, flowing from you to him, like electricity, like cursed energy. His hands shake, torn between pushing you away because he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you, and holding you close because you’re all he has left.

This isn’t fair.

You pull away slowly, and Megumi only wants to give chase. He knows he shouldn’t and yet…

“I…” he begins, the words fumbling around in his mouth. “I don’t…”

“I don’t care,” you interject, cutting him off. “You can tell me that you don’t deserve this; but I don’t care. Life isn’t fair, I know, so why should I have to be?”

Megumi stares at you, speechless.

“So, Megumi please,” you plead once more, and this time all Megumi hears is you and you alone. “Please let me in.”

It seems the rain won’t stop anytime soon, and, for better or worse, neither will you.

With a deep sigh, he relents.

He gives in to you.

notes: requested by @firein-thesky

cielo! thank you so much for requesting and we're sorry it took so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait!!

um, i'm (niku) not sure what else to say regarding this piece. sel took the lead here actually and i did my best to match her in terms of writing but i think you can tell when i took over LMAO. i don't want to ramble too much but maybe i should do like sel and do my notes at the end from now on too... hmm.

[stories4thepack]

Instinct

After putting off feeding to help find the Hyde, your instincts take over as the hunger slowly consumes your mind. But Wednesday is there at just the right moment

Warnings: swearing, blood, injury (the usual)

(apologies for any and all typos)

How long had it been since you last fed? Two weeks? Three? Perhaps a whole month! It seemed that every single time you were reaching for a blood bag, Wednesday would just appear at your side, informing you about a new clue or idea or daft theory. And every time, you would let her drag you to somewhere new. Whether it were to the woods, or a secret hide out or anywhere else even slightly dangerous.

Now, here you were. Taking step after agonising step as you walk through Jericho. The edges of your eyes tinted red and your fangs aching painfully, begging to be used. Your entire body howled for blood and, every now and then, a growl would crawl up your throat as a person got too close, scaring them away as their heart dared you to bite down. Every time, Wednesday would send you a look, a mix of frustration and curiosity at the sound.

It had been a while since you could properly focus on anything, the usually loud street replaced by a low ringing in your ears as Wednesday took you to the woods. The both of you remained silent, a moment you would assume Wednesday enjoyed, but the cold glances she threw your way said otherwise

“You haven’t muttered an incoherent sentence in more than 2 hours.”

The Raven hair muttered as she examined the burnt down barn you suddenly found yourself in. You shook yourself out of your thoughts, attempting to focus on something other than her beating heart.

“Sorry”

You splutter, sounding almost like a drowned wolf gasping for air. Wednesday turned swiftly around, glaring at you from across the ruined building.

“Is there a problem with you?”

You couldn’t answer, your dry throat closing with hunger. You managed to shake your head, attempting a smile to hide your pain. You grimaced at the action, if even you knew it was bad then Wednesday certainly knew you were lying as well

“Mon Cher, you do understand I can always see through your pathetic lies. Even during your more…. vocal… attempts.”

She turned away from you, hearing your exasperated sigh and picturing your shoulders falling at the sound. She could feel the way her heart twisted inside her cold chest as she slowly put together the pieces. She glanced a few times in your direction as she continued her search, watching as you stare into space. Iris’s flashing red every so often as you attempted to control you hunger

The burnt wood shakes as Wednesday slams her hands against the worn pillars. She storms away, muttering and sneering at you and Thing. But all you could truly focus on, was the steady beat of her heart as you resisted the urge to lurch forward and sink your fangs into her flesh.

So when her beat drops, your head snaps in her direction.

“Fuck”

You shout and use your speed to catch the girl before she hits the floor. You lowered yourself to the ground, holding the raven hair as she seized up, body jerking as she witnessed this new vision.

You dug your fangs into your bottom lip, watching as Thing attempted to distract you from how close you were to your girlfriend. Close enough to feel the blood running beneath you fingers.

Thing taps and dances, and while he is genuinely looking out for you, you know he’s watching you carefully. Ensuring you are not a threat to his…….master? He scuttles under a tree root when the first few raindrops begin to fall, keeping you in his view the entire time.

“Should I leave Thing?”

You ask the hand, pulling your girlfriend slightly closer as you fail to shield her from the rain. The hand taps a reply, being as reassuring as he can in this risky situation.

“But I’m a danger right now.”

You sigh, listening to his fingers scuffling amongst the leaves and the dirt as he signs:

“And she would help you if you told her.”

For a body less limb, he was very clever. You sigh, growing accustomed to the increasingly violent storm.

“Anyway, she would probably enjoy the pain.”

He jokes. You chuckle, though the noise you make is more like a snarl. Thing comes beside you, taking you hand in his (….yeah I know). You smile, licking at the blood you had drawn from your lip.

“Thank you.”

His thumb rubs the back of your hand in response, squeezing it firmly but comfortingly. You looked up, focusing on the drops falling against your forehead instead of the Warmth in your arms. Listening to the sound of the wind tearing through the leaves than her beating heart. Which was slowly growing steadier.

Within minutes she shot up, gasping for air, as if she were the starving one. You reach up to place a hand on her shoulder, but hesitate and leave it on the floor instead.

“Are you alright?”

You manage to growl, watching as Wednesdays face shifts from momentary bewilderment to concern (The expression you alone are witness to)

“Y/n”

She mutters, her hand going to your face before you can protest. In the time she was “out”, your skin had grown far paler, your entire iris had been consumed by a ruby red and black veins trailed up every inch of your exposed flesh. Wednesdays eyes widen, the sight of your exterior providing her with the correct conclusion.

“You need to feed”

“I’ll get a bag when we get bac-“

You watch as the girl withdraws a blade from her boot. She lurches out of your reach as you attempt to grab the small knife. Uselessly begging her put it down as she presses the metal against the flesh of her palm.

“DON’T”

You shout, watching as the weapon sinks beneath her skin. Blood flowing from the wound. Playing the role of Siren and luring your closer.

The sight. The smell.

The hunger makes you snarl, the sound making Wednesday dart to her feet, instinctively backing away from you. Your hungry eyes fixated on her bleeding hand, fangs bared as you begin to approach.

“I can give you some blood, there is no need to delay it further.”

She states, refusing to back away out of stubbornness as you grow closer. You snarl again, allowing you to reach her, standing steady and firm as your hands grasp her shoulders.

“Please….stop me”

You manage to gasp out, you morality and predatory consciences tearing you in two directions. Wednesday can see the conflict in your eyes, she sees how they plead, burn with rage then soften again. In an endless cycle. Like a broken record

She lifts her hand to you lips, watching as you grasp her forearm, locking it firmly in place as your tongue grazes the wound. Treading carefully so to not hurt her.

But when you pull away, after a few meagre drops. Your look far worse, the conflicting hunger eating away at you. While she appreciated your attempted gentleness. She wanted you to give in, wanted you to be sated and (while she would never say it aloud) she wanted to see that part of you. Wanted to see the part that could kill in a mortal breathe.

“Bite me”

She says…..No. She demands. The two words spoken with such power, that even if you had the strength to, you wouldn’t have argued.

You watch as she unbuttons her shirt, pulling the fabric down below her collar to expose her mouth watering flesh. Neither of you have time to think before your left hand grasps the back of her head, tilting it roughly to the side. Your fangs dig into her throat in an instant, wasting no time at all. You can hear her groan as you do so, her head sinking back into your hands secure grip.

You drink deeply, like a drunkard who was out of beer, feeling the weakness vanishes out of your body as the sweet, warm blood flows into your waiting mouth. You don’t realise as you push the girl up to the tree behind you, pinning her against the trunk. Your other hand leaves her shoulder, nails clawing at the bark as you attempt to steady yourself, trying not to lose control and drain the raven hair completely.

You pull away after a couple of minutes (perhaps a few seconds too long) pressing your head against the raven hairs chest as you calm your instincts. Wednesdays arms wrap around you, pulling you into a rare hug. You press yourself against her, mumbling apologies into the crook of her neck. Feeling your magic hum in her skin as it ties itself together, healing the wound.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

You finally speak, pulling away to look at her. Your eyes are back to their normal, glowing colour and your face looks as human as possible for a vampire. The sight pulls at the Raven hairs lips, creating the closest she may ever get to a smile.

“Come, now that is concluded, we must go find this monster.”

You step away from her, grinning as she stumbles, regains her composure and strides through the woods as if she hadn’t just had a shit load of her blood taken from her. You’re about to laugh at the sight before a loud roar echoes through the darkening area. Wednesday turns to you, excitement twinkling in her eyes. You both sprint into the trees, a thrilling mix of fear and joy driving the both of you.

No wonder you made such a good couple

[hongism]

SWEET JUICE - s.mingi (18+)

➼ genre; fantasy, smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 10.7k

the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; sex toys, unprotected sex, comeshots, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, hand kink, mention of belly bulging, dacryphilia

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Normally, you aren’t one to be so deeply entrenched in the petty gossip going around town, especially when newcomers are not exactly scarce in these parts. This one in particular — the young man who moved here by himself and immediately set up an apothecary shop in the heart of the village — has been on the lips of almost everyone you’ve bumped into for the past week. Ever since the Summer’s End Festival, it seems all your neighbors can think to talk about is this mysterious lone wolf. Unfortunately for you, that means your interest has been piqued both out of nosiness and out of a potential opportunity.

“You said he’s nice?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t meet him personally. I was busy running the stall while Yunho was doing all the socializing, but Gerda came over and she said he’s a rather nice and charming young man.” 

You appraise the man across the counter with a far less enthused grin. It doesn’t deter Seonghwa from his egregious nods of encouragement, however. So, you continue to pack away the little bundles of herbs that you’ve been preparing all morning into the man’s satchel.

“She says that about everyone under the age of fifty. I think it’s her duty as an old woman to say that. What did Yunho say about him?” 

“Hm, what did Yunho say about him…” Seonghwa brings a neatly manicured nail to his chin as he mulls over your question. You snap the buckle of his bag into its proper place now that you’ve given him all you need to and set your hands down on the counter. “He was fairly charmed too, I believe. I mean, in terms of the guy’s personality. You know his gaze goes in one single direction for all other aspects of things.” He flattens his palm against his cheek and doesn’t even bother to hide the smugness that creeps over his expression.

“Don’t get cocky now,” you cut in before Seonghwa can redirect the conversation towards himself. 

“Is it being cocky if I’m just repeating what he says all the time though? Oh my Seonghwa, you’re so pretty, the only man I could ever look at, I never grow weary of seeing your darling face. It’s truly romance at its finest.”

“Back to the new guy, Hwa.”

“Hmph. You’re more interested in him than you were in me when I first moved here!”

“You didn’t run a shop when you first got here. Otherwise, I would’ve been just as eager, promise.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you, lips drawing into what must be an attempt at a frown but it’s so half-hearted and soft around the edges that you can’t be sure. “I’m trying to establish a financially beneficial supply line with this guy. Thus, I need to know what he’s like so that I know how much bargaining I ought to prepare for before going to speak with him.”

“He’s nice, not much of a talker from what I could tell watching him from a distance, and he mostly stuck near the bonfire. Though it was still damp from the rain earlier that day, and autumn was already sending in her cooler breezes. Anyone who hasn’t acclimated to our lovely finicky weather acts like that when they first arrive here. Spoke to everyone who approached him. Talks with his hands a lot. Very—” Seonghwa makes a few vague gestures consisting of him just waving his hands in the air a bit “—big. Not quite taller than Yunho, but broader and like… meatier, I suppose. I wonder if I should give Yunho bigger meal portions actually, he might need it. Really, how does he stay so skinny even doing all the heavy lifting around the house? Do you have any herbs good for muscle growth?”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, that’s it.” Seonghwa’s protest comes immediately. “No, because last time you did this, you started asking me about concoctions to make his semen taste better, and that is not a conversation we’re going to be repeating!” He grabs his satchel off the counter as you hop up from your stool, though he still tries to appear very upset over the matter while pulling it over his head.

“Well, tell me when you’re planning on going over there at least. I can give you a meal before you go home since it’s a bit of a trek to get back here.”

“I’ll go tomorrow. There’s still some inventory left over from the summer that I need to sort out. And I need to prepare some decor for the Autumn Festival sooner rather than later. Ugh, I got so behind on my work it’s infuriating.” You’ve been slacking a little more than you usually do this past week on account of being bedridden for five days straight. You thought you were going to avoid getting sick at the end of summer for once, but your body had other plans for you and decided to push it into the start of the fall season instead. That’s the only reason you need this information about the newcomer from Seonghwa so desperately: otherwise, you would have been at that very festival and been able to witness the man for yourself.

“Oh, speaking of, everyone missed you last week! And told me to send you well wishes, which are obviously not needed anymore, but the sentiment is the same nonetheless, no?”

You send Seonghwa off with a few extra herbs pressed into his hands and wishes for safe travels. It ought to only take him fifteen minutes to walk back to town, but he came by rather late and the sun is already setting so you don’t want him to get caught alone in the dark on his way. He is kind enough to allow your nagging, only pinching your cheek when you tell him once more to quit asking about recipes and herbs to use on Yunho’s dick. 

Once you’re content seeing him reach the end of your garden path, you flick your wrist in the direction of your crops. The drizzle that suddenly starts falling from the sky is light enough to not be much of a hindrance to Seonghwa, though you’ll be certain to bring down some heavier rainfall after he disappears over the edge of the hill. Though your closest friend in the village, you still haven’t had the heart to tell him what exactly brought you to this remote place or what you were running from when you came. He only knows that you came here nearly eight years ago on your own and with nothing to your name, and by the time he and Yunho came along, you were already three years into building your business of selling herbs year-round. 

In truth, your witchcraft is not illegal by the nature of it being magick. Rather, you yourself are the problem being a witch in name instead of the formally accepted term warlock. Should anyone with any sort of agenda against you discover that you are a defector using your magick when you are no longer a practicing warlock, then you would likely lose everything you have here in this place. It took you two years just to find a town secure and remote enough for you to feel comfortable living in, and eight more to reach this point of stability. You don’t consider Seonghwa to be someone driven by monetary promise or swayed by others’ opinions, but there is just enough doubt that’s crept into your heart over the years to keep you silent.

“How depressing,” you mutter, turning back to your cottage and heading inside. You make the rain fall just a little harder to go along with your sudden decline in mood.

…

Perhaps, you think, there is some goddess out there who is keen on causing you inordinate levels of distress. Because although today was supposed to be nothing more than a calm and friendly meeting in the hopes of establishing a business partnership, you cannot push yourself to even approach the door to the new apothecary. The name of the shop is insignificant on its own — Mortar and Cauldron — and you wouldn’t think twice about getting up from this cursed bench you now find yourself on if that was all there was to it. Yet for some godforsaken reason, this man has deigned to put a symbol behind the name, one that mimics one of the crests belonging to the House of Ballads (the very one you defected from a decade ago). Some deity must surely be playing a sick prank on you.

There are a few routes you could take in this situation. You could pretend you never came and forget the idea of creating a supply line, missing out on some revenue sure but it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make up for it in other areas. You could go in and confront the newcomer, demanding to know who he is and what he’s doing here on the off chance that he’s truly some bumbling idiot who has no clue what symbols he’s drawn into his signs. He could very well be a defector himself, you suppose, although it would be suicide to use one of the House’s official crests as one. Or you could simply play the part of the fool yourself, act none the wiser, and pretend to be the normal citizen you are. Even if this man were truly from the House, he would not recognize your face because you were never formally entered into the place. You had been merely part of a small church sect on the outskirts of the capital, far from the House of Ballads and all its operations. The name you held while there has already been burned to ash and nothingness, likely stricken from all their records as well the moment you disappeared. If they wanted you dead — well, they would have had you killed long ago. So, you seem to have your best course of action.

“I know my decor isn’t the most appealing, but I don’t think it warrants such a foul expression.” The voice resonates so close to your ear that you truly feel the vibration in your teeth, but moreso, it startles you out of your skin, and you all but launch yourself off the bench with an embarrassing yelp. Just behind the bench where you were, there stands a man you don’t recognize. Tall, with sharp features and equally piercing dark eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe complete with a scarf draped over his head to mimic the hood of a cloak. It doesn’t fully shroud his borderline psychedelic hair — an unnatural yellow shade that blends into a fiery orange-red and makes his head look more like a torch than anything else. “Hello. Sorry for surprising you like that, it wasn’t my intention to make a first impression in such a way.”

Ah. If not for your racing heart, you would have put two and two together far sooner, because obviously, this would be the mystery owner of the apothecary, considering how you recognize everyone in town.

“Would you like to come in and look around? I was simply across the street to get some bread.” He tilts his head back in the direction of none other than Seonghwa’s shop. One glance at the storefront gives you enough of a clue as to whose fault it is that you’re having this unsavory first encounter because said man is pressed up against the window and staring through it directly at you. You have to fight the urge to scowl at him until after your newcomer steps out of your line of sight. Seonghwa tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and sends you a far-too-cheery thumbs-up. You turn away with a less subtle middle finger. 

Despite the muggy weather and cooler temperatures, the inside of the apothecary is warm. It almost feels a bit humid thanks to the rain outside, but not unbearably so. And considering how long you were sitting out there getting rained on, you welcome the heat quite a bit. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the friend Seonghwa mentioned, would you?” He catches you with the question as you’re undoing the knot holding your cloak around your shoulders. “I don’t recall seeing you at last week’s festival, though I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself to everyone then.”

“Oh, yes, that would be me. I wasn’t there because I was recovering from a nasty cold. Y/n.” You jut a hand out in his direction, pushing a smile to your lips as you look him in the eye, though thanks to his height, you feel as though you have to crane your neck just to do so. 

“Song Mingi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” He doesn’t take your hand the way you expect; instead, he pinches the tips of your fingers and bends at the waist, lips grazing your knuckles so softly that you almost don’t feel the contact at all. What’s more startling is how hot his touch is, especially considering how he was just out in the cold. You catch a glimpse of his hand as he’s pulling away, but he’s simply wearing gloves. Knowing Seonghwa, he probably kept the man hostage with conversation for a long time before sending him out to speak with you, and your friend always keeps the house warm because of the ovens, so that’s likely where all the excess heat is coming from. Your staring lingers too long, and Mingi clears his throat quietly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Likewise,” you spit out, placing your cloak on the coat rack by the door.

“Were you looking for something in particular, or did you just want to see what sorts of things I have?” Mingi wraps around the back of the shop’s counter, and you take it as an invitation to approach. The glass cabinet serving as the surface is filled with a variety of things both familiar and not. Potions, vials, bundles of powders, and even some gemstones that carry a glow at their centers. The presence of magick here is undeniably strong, and it is not yours alone. There must be dozens of magickal objects here, though the ordinary person wouldn’t sense a thing. You don’t let your gaze linger on any of them for long before pulling focus back up to the man’s face.

“Well, I intended to come introduce myself first since we didn’t have a chance to meet at the festival. But beyond that, I wanted to let you know I grow all sorts of herbs and ingredients in my garden. I supply many of the local shops and stalls, especially during the winter seasons. The ground is particularly fruitful thanks to all the rain we get here.”

“Oh? Yes, I noticed rather quickly that there’s near-constant rainy weather here.” As though on cue, a bout of thunder rumbles in the distance.

“You truly chose a summer lover’s nightmare moving here,” you laugh. “Charybid is always in rainy season.”

Mingi hums and grins a little, looking to the window before saying, “I’m quite alright with it really. The heat of my homeland is far more unbearable in my opinion. You can tell how little I went outside there just based on how pale I am.” He flashes the back of his hand that’s still enveloped by a glove like he wants to prove his point, only to realize his little blunder and fall into a bout of awkward laughter instead. “But you said you’re a supplier? Do you have a local shop as well or…?”

“Local, though not here in the heart of town. If you follow the west road up over the hill, you’ll see a string of cottages. Mine is the one with the big front garden! Oh, and there’s a sign as well, of course.”

“That would be immensely helpful especially since I don’t have much space here to grow my own things. It’s a bit difficult to outsource supplies in this area too, isn’t it?” Mingi glances down at the open notebook sitting on his counter and skims the contents. “Would it be alright if I came by at the end of next week? That way I can finish unpacking and taking stock of everything I have.”

“Yes, that’d work just fine. You can come by any time you need, though I always advise against coming too close to nightfall because walking in the rain at night is an easy way to get sick.” You offer a smile, perhaps a little too pleased with how smoothly your business proposal went, but your enthusiasm seems to be received well given how brightly Mingi smiles in return. The air has begun to get more stifling, and you can feel sweat clinging to the back of your neck. It’s unpleasant now, a kind of warmth you’re not used to experiencing all the time because you don’t keep your home so toasty, but it reminds you of evenings shared with Seonghwa that always end with you wanting to escape out into the rain just for some respite. “I won’t take up more of your time, though. I promised to go see Seonghwa myself once I was finished here. I bid you well.”

“Thank you, and have safe travels home yourself. I look forward to doing business with you, Miss y/n.”

…

You leave your cottage in the wee hours of the morning, intending to water your crops before the sun rises, but those plans are dashed the moment you spot the man waiting outside your fence. You’ve seen him several times since your first meeting, though not here and solely in town. He hasn’t come this far yet despite his insistence that he would come over two weeks ago. Autumn is in full swing now, four weeks since the start of the season and five since the new apothecary came to town. You had not quite lost hope that he would be true to his word, but you must admit that you are caught off-guard seeing him at this hour and at your gate.

“When I said not to come at nightfall, I didn’t mean that you needed to come at the break of dawn!”

“I wanted to come before opening hours,” Mingi replies in a far clearer voice than your own. You’re still wiping the sleep from your eyes after all, and it seems he has been up for some time considering how he doesn’t appear tired in the slightest. The lantern at the end of your walkway is lit — strange because you thought you had remembered to blow it out the night before — and the glow combined with the first few rays of sunshine over the horizon is enough to illuminate the space between you and the man. “I was also out on a morning walk, so I figured it would be smart to find out how to get here before making a fool of myself. Beyond making plans to do so several times over and not once making good on those plans.”

You did gather much from your first impression of the man. Seonghwa’s word proved correct: Mingi is quite friendly, although a tad clueless but his kindness makes up for that, and you heard as much from your fellow townsfolk after you left his apothecary a month ago. After all, newcomers will be the talk of the town for weeks after their arrival, so you got to be privy to much talk about his character just from spending five minutes milling about the streets. He’s cordial each time you happen across each other in the village on top of that, full of never-ending apologies about his delay in coming to see you (to the point where you have to demand he stop apologizing three times before he takes the hint).

“Considering how I didn’t even make it to the front door, I’m assuming I did not wake you?” he continues when you reach the edge of the fence. You shake your head, undoing the latching and pulling the gate over for him to step through. 

“No, you simply caught me coming out to check on the crops before the rain starts.” You didn’t sense any rain coming today, but a little trip down to the pond can easily be arranged once Mingi departs. “This is only the front garden. I can show you the back as well, if you’d like, I have far more plants there.”

“You take care of this all by yourself?” he inquires, voice edging on awestruck, and your chest swells with pride.

“Yep! It is my livelihood, after all. But I am very enamored with the work too, so that helps me as well. These plants need more sun, and thanks to the location of this cottage, they receive it at least eight hours a day. Same goes for the plots on the left side of the house, but the ones on the right are not as sensitive to the sunshine. I keep the least temperamental crops in the back, along with some gourds that shops have a hard time finding at this time of year. My more cold-sensitive plants are in planters indoors, I have that small little greenhouse attachment on the side of the house as well as fungi and the like in the basement.”

“It seems you truly have a bit of everything then?”

“I try to at least. Whenever traveling merchants come for market days, I make a point to collect whatever seeds I can. I also like picking up gardener’s pamphlets! There are always good tips for how to make certain plants thrive, and occasionally they’ll mention ones I’ve not heard of so I know to be on the lookout for those things. If there’s ever something you’re in need of that I don’t have, I’d be happy to collect some samples for you from some merchants and we can discuss planting them too.” When you glance up at Mingi again, his jaw is hanging slightly open, eyes still bearing into you with that same wonder and disbelief. “Oh, sorry, I’m being a terrible host. Did you want to come inside for some tea or coffee? It’s still quite early.”

“That’d be great. Do you happen to have a catalog of all your crops as well?”

“Of course, of course.” You motion for him to follow you up to the house just as a few drops of rain start hitting your skin. Maybe you won’t need to go down to the pond after all. “It seems you came at the perfect time. Do you have some sort of potion that lets you predict the weather?”

“If only,” he laughs, ducking his head a bit to avoid the doorframe. He shrugs his cloak off upon getting inside, and once again you’re regaled by the sight of him dressed in all black. Though, today he’s forgone gloves and simply stuck to a long-sleeved shirt that extends past his hands. 

“You’re welcome to look around as I get the water on and all!”

“I’d be happy to do that for you.”

“Please, you’re a guest, that’d hardly be fair of me.”

“But I did accost you before dawn, so I’d like to think of it as a fair bargain.”

You purse your lips. “Okay, I’ll relent and allow you to do the water, but I’ll take care of everything else.” He drapes his cloak over the back of one of your chairs, very careful and meticulous about the way in which he lays it down, but you only watch him long enough to see him reach the sink. Turning your back to him, you busy yourself with finding mugs and prepping the coffee Seonghwa gave to you a few weeks back. You should’ve thought ahead and asked him for more since you were just over there, but it slipped your mind completely. Perhaps he needs some more lavender and rosemary, you could pack some and use that as an excuse to go back to see him.

When you turn around next, Mingi is already sitting at the table in the seat where he set his cloak down, and you make a small noise of surprise.

“Did you get the stove figured out already? I swear it takes me four or five tries to get it to come on right every time.”

“Hm? It came right on when I turned the knob. Is it not supposed to do that?”

You let out a huff of air while shrugging and set the mugs down on the table. “It never does that for me but that very well may be user error.” The sharp whistle of steam interrupts your thoughts. “Ah, and it’s heating up quickly too? Those remedies of yours are becoming more and more appealing by the second. You might be the town’s new miracle worker at this rate.” 

In truth, it’s making your skin itch a little. There was some odd presence of magick back in Mingi’s shop, and even now you feel something sharp prodding at your own magickal energy in your own home. It’s not a threat, not one that you can concretely act on yet at least, but it’s enough to make you wary. To let a witch into your safe haven is a dangerous and risky game to play, especially if it’s where the source of your power is. Thankfully, you were not so foolish upon moving here to do something as juvenile as that — yours is safely kept away in that pond down the opposite side of the hill and tucked into a small grove in the surrounding forest. 

“Oh, let me grab that catalog for you real quick!” You bolt up from your chair at the sudden realization, and Mingi seems to accept it as simply that. You grab the book from your shelf, also snatching up the charm you keep near it and slipping it around your wrist while you’re out of sight still. It won’t be enough to fully shroud your energy, but if Mingi is indeed poking and prodding at your aura in search of something, it ought to at least throw him off enough to sate his curiosities. You usually only use such an item when strangers come to town for those market days you mentioned to Mingi before, and it certainly is a first for you to have to use it in your home. 

He’s not budged an inch by the time you return, which is nice to see because he could either have started snooping around in places he shouldn’t or bolted without a trace. You set the book down before him, still wearing a faint smile on your lips.

“I just updated it at the start of the week too, so you have the freshest copy.”

“Wonderful, I’m starting to understand the name on your gate post more and more.”

“Ah, that.” Wonderland was simply a silly little name you came up with on a whim because that’s what this place is to you, but it stuck and everyone in town loved it so much that you could not escape the urgings to keep it as a name even if you are not a shop owner in the way that people like Seonghwa and Mingi both are. “It’s nothing terribly special,” you opt to say instead. The kettle starts whistling more egregiously, saving you from having to explain the name any further. You stand and go to grab the handle of the pot, only to scald your palm so badly that you nearly fall over backward. Mingi scrambles to get up, chair clattering against the ground as he rushes in your direction.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I—”

“You’re sorry?” you blurt through gritted teeth, clinging to your hand and trying to will the pain away to no avail. “What are you sorry for?”

“I-I should’ve — I should’ve gotten that, I mean, my hands are…” he trails off, and you glance down at the now exposed hands that he’s put between you. From the tips of his fingers down to the first knuckle on every single digit, Mingi’s skin and nails both are the color of charcoal, like they’ve been permanently stained that way. Were you anybody else, you would not know what it means. 

“I’m fine,” you say. He’s a warlock after all, it seems. Of course he is. You have been teetering on the confirmation for weeks at this point, and it was silly of you to ignore the obvious so many times over. His uncomfortably warm touch and the stifling heat inside his shop were both dead giveaways. You did not forget to extinguish your lantern last night, nor did the stove simply come on by way of Mingi being deft at using the knobs. He lit the lantern himself, lit the stove himself as well though because he was unaware of how your finicky stove works, he made the flame too big and too hot, thus leading to the quick boil and unfortunate accident of you burning your hand. The symbol on his door sign should have been enough of a clue.

“Please, at least let me make you something to treat the burn. It’s what I’m good at after all, and it’s the barest of minimums I could do.”

If you kick him out now, then it will surely be obvious that you know something about his identity. Only daft idiots or people with something to hide would turn down the help of a healer such as himself. In the past decade, you have lost all semblance of good judgment because no amount of mental gymnastics can get you to refuse his help right now. You’re dooming yourself if he already knows what you are, but if he’s got even the slightest hint and you turn him away, then you would confirm it for him. You have to take the risk.

“Okay, I would really appreciate it,” you whisper, easing yourself down into your chair once more. Mingi’s shoulders visibly relax. “All these plants and I’m afraid I’ve barely got enough knowledge to make tea on a good day with them. Everything you need ought to be on the shelves behind the counter. Those are all freshly picked too.” When he turns his back to you, you let your meek expression drop and glare at the welt that’s already formed across your palm. Mingi’s magick does not appear to be volatile, meaning that he must have had some sort of formal training in his life. It’s common for fire warlocks to bear the same charcoal-looking scars that he has, mostly from overexertion of their kind of magick. You produce more sweat than is natural for a normal human being thanks to your affinities too. 

Would the House truly send someone here for you after so long? And to go through the effort of having them set up a shop in the heart of town? If they wanted someone to watch you, then it would have been easier and smarter to have someone take one of the cottages closer to you. Besides, Mingi has not been taking every opportunity to come find you or learn about you. Nor does he wear any ring to indicate his affiliation with the House. A sanctioned mage would surely make use of such benefits. Could he be a defector like you? Or one that never made it into the House’s grasp? 

He returns to the table with a mortar and pestle filled with some sort of salve that he’s already beaten down into a mush.

“Does it hurt badly?”

“Quite a bit,” you answer truthfully, only wincing a little when he turns your palm to the ceiling. It feels as though his fingers alone could sear your skin.

“I made extra for you to use over the next several days as well. All you need to do is store it somewhere cool and apply a little to the burn twice a day until the pain stops.” The mixture is so blissfully cold on your skin that you could cry, and even with Mingi’s warm touch massaging it into the burn, it feels like a heavenly relief. “If the pain doesn’t stop by the time you run out of salve, then please come visit me. I can make more and give you something to keep it from scarring.”

“Understood.”

“And y/n…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, and your breath catches in your throat. “You do not have to hide what you are around me.” His gaze finds yours. “You are a witch after all, are you not?” A witch. The word feels like a slap in the face.

“Are you associated with the House? Did they send you? What is it you want from me?”

“The House? Absolutely not. I left their good graces many years ago. I wouldn’t give them even an ounce of my time anyway.”

“So what? You’re a witch as well?”

“Yes, I suppose I am though I don’t make a habit of calling myself that. Simply an apothecary, much like how you are simply a farmer. Of sorts.” Mingi fidgets in his seat and looks closer at you. “I am genuinely not here to cause you harm or disrupt your life. I imagine we came here for the very same reasons in fact. I simply want to live by my own terms, not anyone else’s.”

“Get out,” you whisper. Perhaps there are hundreds of better ways to handle this, but you have never had to do such a thing in all your time here, and you cannot be faulted for acting out of panic and fear now. Your voice comes out louder now, “Get out of my home then! Get out and don’t come back d-don’t dare tell anyone.”

“The energy is permeating the entire house.” Mingi keeps his tone quiet as he continues to speak through your distress. “Your garden too, I felt it immediately. The rain — it’s in there as well. Sure, it’s always rainy season here but how much of it is because of you?”

“You know what the other name for my kind is, right?”

“You’re a water witch.” 

You retract your hand from his with a scoff.

“The House tends to call us Scyllans. Sweet temptresses of the deep, killers of foolish men.”

Mingi somehow has it in him to smile.

“Then I ought to be safe, for I am neither foolish nor a mere man.” He stands without saying another word, collecting his cloak off the back of his chair and slinging it around his shoulders. You can’t help but to stare at him, wary and on edge with every movement he makes even when he reaches the door. “My words hold true, y/n. I hope you think them over at least. And your secret is truly safe with me.”

…

You avoid going into town for so long that Seonghwa seeks you out five days after you go into self-imposed seclusion. It’s easy to keep him off your back at least, and from what you can tell, Mingi has not sought him out to expose your dirty secrets as of yet. The logical part of you understands that you ought to avoid angering the man because he does hold quite a bit of power over you right now. Fear keeps you captive instead, however. 

Two weeks and a day after that fateful encounter you had with Mingi, you dare to leave the comfort of your home. Not to go into the village — that is a step you are not prepared to face — but rather to visit your precious grove in the forest. You should have gone last week as it’s always been your habit to go once a month to rejuvenate your magick; however, you were so on edge that you couldn’t get beyond your back fence and promptly turned right back around. Tonight, you’re determined.

The skies are clear, not a single cloud marring her starry expanses, and the moon hangs high near the center of the sky. Even better yet, it’s a full moon. Ideal conditions for you to bathe in the pond and restore some much-needed energy. You set out forty minutes from midnight even though your trek will not take that long. You need only be there for the highest peak of the moon, so giving yourself this little bit of leeway should allow you all the time required to reach your destination. Despite yourself, you do glance over your shoulder several times on your way out of the house and garden. When you’re content with your loneliness, you set off down the hill.

It’s not as though you decided to dismiss Mingi’s words altogether once he left. You have put much thought and consideration into them, in fact, especially after Seonghwa came to see you and nothing had changed between the two of you. It’s no guarantee that Mingi didn��t tell anyone, but it’s something. The matter of him being a witch like you, well, that has been a contentious debate in your head. A true warlock calling themselves a witch is considered heresy to many, so you have to believe that Mingi is being truthful with you. You know enough about his magick to know for certain he is either one or the other. But at the end of the day, there is no way for him to prove as much. All he has is his word to back him up, and all you can do is either accept it as truth or deny it. 

Long ago, you had settled on the knowledge that you would likely be a rather lonely creature for the rest of your days. Finding Charybid and its people was a welcome blessing, but not a permanent one, and the friends you’ve made (especially Seonghwa and Yunho) cannot understand what it is you are or relate to you on any matter concerning witchcraft. You’ve long since accepted that loneliness as a part of you even if there are pieces of your heart craving warmth and understanding from another like you. 

If it were possible, could Mingi be that sort of person in your life? Does he crave the same thing? Is that why he confronted you to begin with?

You reach the grove with a heavier heart than anticipated. Moonlight creeps in through the canopy of branches overhead, glistening off the half-circle of rocks around milky green waters. The moon has already been charging the pond for hours, and you feel the pulse of magick resonating deep in you from the bottom of it. 

Stripping down to nothing, you drop your clothes into a pile near the rocks with your satchel and toe at the water. It’s frigid as expected, thanks to the encroaching winter that is coming closer and closer still. You sink into it fully and submerge yourself in the charged waters. Several meters down at the bottom lies your precious black pearl, glowing a deep purple shade to show exactly how much magick she’s stored since you last came. You let the waters hold you for some time until the dull thrum you feel around you turns into a hum that makes your skin feel like it’s full of electricity. 

It’s only then that you decide to emerge once more, breaking the surface of the water and letting air replace the magick in your lungs. 

Yet, you find that you are not alone.

Bent so far over the pond that he looks one slip away from tumbling down into it, none other than Mingi sits crouched at the edge. It’s far too late to pretend as though you haven’t made note of each other. Depending on which direction Mingi came from, he may not have even seen your belongings behind the rocks. You sink lower in the water until it comes up to cover your lips. 

“My apologies. I did not know you were here.” Just his gaze is enough to make your body warm. You tilt your chin up.

“Is that so?”

“I came because of the magickal energy, yes. Not because I knew you would be here.” He’s not far from you. The moon shines her pretty rays down around him, and you blame her for the insatiable tug in your gut that’s making you want to pull him into the waters with you. “I have been thinking about you though,” he admits under his breath. You imagine the words are not meant for your ears, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s spoken them out loud. It takes little movement on your part to swim closer to him, and you only stop when he is perched directly above you.

“Do I look the part of a temptress now?” you inquire, hand breaking through the surface of the water to caress his cheek. 

“Incredibly so,” he murmurs. “I see why foolish men fall. Perhaps I am no better.”

“You know nothing about me.” You trace your fingers down to his chin. 

“I know enough.”

You shush him with a laugh and a finger placed directly over his lips. “The sun gives you her power during the day, but on nights like these, the moon offers me a fair exchange. Her power for my sexual energy. That is where a water witch’s magick comes from, and it’s what has earned us all those myths and urban legends about eating men. Now that you know that of me, should I trust you in return?”

“I am what I say I am. I am a fire witch. I defected from the House of Ballads five years ago. To answer your question, though, if…” His gaze has become lidded, focus drawing down to your lips with each word he tries to speak. You feel just as overwhelmed and foggy yourself, the excess magick seeping into you from all angles as the moon inches ever closer to her peak. “…you deem it wise.”

“I think some part of me might.”

“Did you consider what I said to you last time?”

“But of course. It wasn’t so long ago that I’ve forgotten already.” A sigh escapes you as you look up to where the moon can just barely be seen through the trees. “I’d like to give you a chance, if only because of morbid curiosity and the fact that I have made it a decade without finding another like myself.”

You inch up and graze Mingi’s lips with your own. His fingertips tickle the surface of the water, and the effect is nearly instant. Warmth surrounds you and draws a gasp out of you that has you curling away from Mingi’s face. He leans back.

“I cannot restrain myself well enough tonight. Not in the presence of such potent magick.” You are equal parts pleasantly surprised and grossly disappointed by his willpower. With a smile, you push away from the edge of the pond and head further into the water. Mingi almost makes the mistake of following you, teetering at the grassy bank.

“You are welcome to visit again. So long as I am not nude or compromised.”

“I-I—” His cheeks are stained a deep red by now.

“I do not intend to put on a show for you tonight, Mingi, but I am in desperate need of the moon’s energy. If that is all, then…?” Were the circumstances any different, you would consider your wording to be crude in that you are essentially asking him to leave so that you can fuck yourself with the crystal you brought along with you in your bag. 

He clears his throat and sits completely back on his heels, gaze wandering across your face. Licking over his lips, his eyes linger on the water droplets running from your hairline to your jaw. 

“I will come to you when the first snow falls,” he says. “So that you may have time to contemplate things further. My decision is already made, and I'm sure you're aware of it. Please… please let me know then what your choice is.” You want to retort that he doesn’t have the best track record thus far, but instead leave well enough and wave him away with a grin. A bout of laughter leaves your lips as soon as he passes through the clearing and out of sight.

“Are you testing me?” you whisper to the moon, receiving nothing but her monotonous glow in response. You wade over to the rocks where you left your belongings and quickly rifle through your pack in search of the rose quartz you brought along. It’s cold to the touch, unpleasant in comparison to the warm body that you just had with you and within your grasp. While the shape isn't perfect, it gets the job done in the absence of the real deal, and it serves its purpose just fine. Not like you have any other options as it is.

Part of you entertains the idea of having Mingi still here — from a practical standpoint, consummating the ritual with another magick user would be far more effective than using a crystal charged by the moon. But from a pleasure standpoint…

You dip your fingers between your legs, letting your body fall back to rest your head on the edge of the pond as you seek your core between your folds. The magick at your fingertips pulses through you and sends a jolt into your system just from the slightest brush. A soft mewl falls from your lips. You feel Mingi’s magick still permeating all throughout the water, clinging to your skin, and on your lips, you taste fire from that minute little kiss exchanged in a fit of passion.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot get your fingers deep enough inside your cunt. Instead, your thoughts are plagued by the visual of Mingi’s hands, his long fingers, the searing heat that emanates from them, and the all-consuming desire to know what it would feel like to have them inside you.

You cannot even bring yourself to waste time right now; slipping your fingers free, you plunge the toy in your other hand into yourself and sink it all the way in until the pressure in your gut is eased the slightest bit. It's blissfully cold against your walls; the coolness eases the burn that seems to be wedged beneath your skin and brings some clarity back to your mind. It does not, however, chase every thought of Mingi from your brain. In the haze of your vision, you can hallucinate him before you still, imagine him in the spot where he was not long ago watching you with those fiery intense eyes and urging you on. A louder cry of pleasure tumbles out of you as you're forced to twist and brace yourself on a rock to keep increasing the pace of the toy's thrusts inside you.

It ought to fill you with some degree of shame, you think, because who lusts so strongly after a stranger who poses something of a threat to your well-being and livelihood? But when your mind goes back to the idea of his large hands gripping your waist and hips as he splits you open on his cock, you can't be bothered in the slightest about the speed at which you're becoming invested in this man — all that matters is the speed at which you're thrusting the crystal dildo in and out of your pussy as an orgasm creeps up on you. You have to bury your face in the crook of your arm to have some semblance of sanity to cling to. And when you unravel soon after, it’s his name on your lips.

…

The first snow of the season is late.

You have been trying to avoid thinking about it solely on account of the superstition that mulling it over will only delay it further, but those attempts are futile. Because when you tell yourself to not think about it, you only end up thinking about it more, then you devolve into a sick cycle of reasoning with yourself and the moon and any deity out there who will give you the time of day. 

While you could set your pride aside for the sake of what it is you’re waiting on exactly, that is simply not in your nature. Additionally, you want to see whether Mingi will uphold his end of the bargain. He promised to come at the first snow. So you will wait for that day. 

Your gardens are thriving thanks to the lack of snow and the amplified support of your fully-charged magick, which is the only positive you can find in this situation while you essentially sit on your hands and wait. The downside is, however, that the temperatures are still steadily declining, and you always struggle in the winter to keep your home warm enough. Your specialty may be in water magick, but that does not mean you have any control or power over the temperature of said water, and everything around you tends to skew a bit cooler as it is. The thought of how cold you are and your house is and everything in between only pushes your thoughts more towards the lack of warmth and a potential source of it that will not come unless the fucking snow does first.

If you have to put up with seeing Mingi’s smiling face across the street while you’re pestering Seonghwa one more time then you may truly snap and lose all semblance of self-respect.

…

You’re knelt in a bed of rosemary when the first flakes of snow start to hit your skin. At first, you think it to be just rain but then a flurry touches one of the purple blossoms on the herb. The shout you let out is a terrifying mixture of joy and exasperation because at long last, your agonizing wait can finally come to a close. The way you scramble to pull yourself out of the dirt and rush indoors ought to be more embarrassing. It takes you all of five minutes to change out of your grimy gardening clothes and into something cozier and cleaner, though all you do is park yourself at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and stare out the window waiting for any sign of movement on the hill. The snow is coming down harder already, a billowing cloud of white that cloaks the dirt and grass on the ground. It doesn’t even occur to you to think that Mingi might not come at all, that he might have forgotten or worse — simply not chosen to come at all — because your patience has worn so thin over the past weeks that you feel relief just seeing the snow.

And luckily for you, Mingi is far more timely and true to his word than he was before. You neglected to keep track of the time, though you haven’t finished your tea yet by the time his lanky figure comes over the crest of the hill. You know it to be him instantly because his fiery hair is visible through the white all around him. 

You’re at the door before you can think twice, flinging it open and making your way down the path to the gate as though you aren’t in the biggest rush of your life. Behind him, there’s a trail of footsteps where the snow has melted under his feet, and the closer he gets, the better you can see how not even a single snowflake sticks to him in any way. Every flake that touches even the outside of his cloak simply melts upon contact, leaving him pristine in the sea of white falling around you.

“Did you wait long?” he asks upon reaching your gate. Somehow he manages to maintain a lilting tone that makes your brain itch. You want to kiss him so silly that all that smugness dissipates like the snow on his skin. “Y/n.” The breathy exhale of your name is all it takes for you to grab him by the collar and yank him down to your level. The warmth is so blessedly welcome. “Have you made your decision?” 

You slot your lips against his, licking at the seam of his lips without waiting for further invitation. He scrambles with the latch on the gate, though you’re of no help at all with how you’re trying to pull him over it, but once that pesky barrier is pushed open just a little bit, he slides through the gap and seals his body against yours. Even though the cold doesn’t seem to be affecting him much, his breathing still comes out in pants, like he sprinted the whole way here from town without rest. He clasps his hands around the back of your neck, thumbs caressing the underside of your jaw, and each kiss he plants on your lips is more searing than the last. It takes all you have to not trip over backward on your feet with him guiding you back towards the door of your home. The two of you don’t even make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against the doorframe and slotting a knee between your thighs. 

“Please, y/n, let me hear it from these pretty lips,” he begs. Your whole body is alight with something — either magick or lust or something in between those things that you can’t distinguish at present. The heat radiating off his body makes your head spin, and it’s such an intoxicating sensation that you reach your hands beneath the fabric of his cloak to be closer to skin.

“I trust you, I need you, I want you to have me,” you murmur back. Mingi pushes his lower lip out with the tip of his tongue. His gaze carries the same heat you’ve grown used to seeing all the time when you look at his eyes. Now, the weight of it feels heavier. Your breath hitches in your throat as he wraps an arm around your back, and his fingers dig into your side briefly. You’re pulled away from the doorframe and into the house only for him to slam the door shut and lock the snow out. What you aren’t expecting is to be flattened to the surface face first mere seconds later.

“I want to have you right here and now,” Mingi growls behind you. Every brush of his hands over your body leaves goosebumps in their wake along with the heat of his magick seeping into your skin. He takes apart your bodice carefully, pulling each string with a startling amount of care compared to his desperate rush to have you. A sort of fever takes hold of you, and with each piece of clothing he removes from your being, the more the fire in your belly roars. Glancing down, you see your clothes fallen into a heap on the floor, along with his cloak, then his coat, his shirt — each piece of fabric goes to join the pile until you feel bare skin against yours. The bliss of the contact is so immense that you let out a pitiful moan.

“Mingi.”

“Raise your arms over your head for me, y/n.” 

“Mingi,” you utter again, following the instruction without a breath of hesitation. He takes both of your wrists between just one of his hands and pins them to the flat surface of the door. Your chest trembles under your breaths. 

“I will not be rough with you unless you allow it. How I take you is up to you… whether it be me taking you apart gently or fucking you hot and raw right here and now.” You can’t take the sensation of his breathing down your neck without squirming. No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together, there’s no relief for the pulsing need for pressure there. The moment Mingi catches onto your attempts, he wedges his knee between your legs and leaves you to rock back on his muscled thigh for some sort of escape.

“Please.” It’s as though there’s cotton in your mouth keeping you from fully forming any kind of sentence because although your thoughts are running at a mile per minute, you cannot seem to get more than one word out at a time. Mingi nudges you forward into the door once again. He replaces the pressure of his thigh with his unoccupied hand, cupping your cunt and dragging his middle finger along the slit of your folds.

“You’re coming undone already, my little witch.” Mingi suddenly flicks his finger forward over your clit, and your knees buckle. Your reaction delights him so much that he repeats the action two more times, and your body truly becomes putty in his hands. He keeps you up between the hand holding your wrists to the door and the one cupped around your sex, but you aren’t sure your muscles could keep you up on their own without the help. Especially not when Mingi gets more daring and pulls a second finger into the mix to tease the ring of your entrance with small, methodical circles.

“Put them in me, put your fingers in!” you cry out only for Mingi to roll over your clit once again. His cock is twitching against your ass, firm and big, and part of you wants to forget everything else solely to have him in your mouth and down your throat. 

“Is that how good girls ask for things?” He pinches your clit between his fingers until you’re whimpering out an apology and smearing drool across the door. “Ask again. Nicely this time, sweetheart.”

“Please f-fuck me with your fingers, please open me up for you, I w-want to feel you so badly.” Nonsensical babbling is enough for him, blessedly, because you’re not confident that anything more coherent than that could make its way out of you right now. He rolls the pads of his fingers up against your clit again before going any lower. His laugh is borderline sadistic when you curl your fingers into the wood, nails clawing for some sort of grip that will help you ground yourself. “Wanna come so—!”

“That’s it, come for me, lovely. Then I’ll fuck you nice and loose on my fingers while you’re coming.” Mingi retracts his fingers right when your gut clenches, and as your walls squeeze tight around nothing, he slips two digits into your cunt. Your lips part in a silent scream, moans caught in the back of your throat. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids though it lasts so much longer than what you’re used to getting from your own hand and toys. Perhaps it’s because Mingi doesn’t let up on you even in the throes of your orgasm, or thanks to your magickal energies intertwining in the most raw and intimate way imaginable. “Let me open you up some more first, then I’ll give you what you want.”

You blink your eyes open and look at Mingi out your peripherals, mouth wide open and cheek still pressed harshly into the door even though you’re the one keeping it there. 

“Do you want it too?” you ask out of the blue. Your voice is tight and strained. His fingers curl inside you.

“So badly,” comes his quick reply, “that it’s taking everything in me not to put my dick in you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you.” As though to emphasize his feelings, Mingi rolls his hips forward, and his cock rubs hard against your ass. “Doesn’t even look like it’s gonna fit in you, fuck.”

“Mingi, I need you in me now, like right this instant now, not in five minutes now.” The first orgasm has your vision hazy and legs wobbly, but that’s far from a concern to you at the moment. Your urgency pushes the man behind you to have the same sort of franticness, hurriedly slipping his fingers free of your cunt and readjusting his hold so that he can grip the base of his dick. You hold perfectly still for him as he lines himself up with your waiting hole that’s already sopping with arousal. Your pussy takes him in like it’s greedy for it, each inch sliding in and spreading you wider to accommodate to his size. One thing’s for certain: Mingi has a stupidly big dick, so big that it makes you wonder if you’d be able to feel it through your stomach if you put a hand there. 

Whatever shreds of patience he had left in him turn to ash the second he’s fully buried balls-deep in you. He doesn’t wait even a second before he pulls out about halfway, and the only stutter in his rhythm comes from him trying to find it. You’re suddenly rather glad that he’s keeping your hands up for you because the drive of his cock inside your pussy would bring you to your knees otherwise. The sounds of pleasure fill your ears — his low baritone moans tangled alongside your more throaty ones that crack here and there, the slap of his hips hitting your ass, and the thumping of the door as he fucks you so hard against it that it trembles. 

“Y-You’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach,” you choke out between moans. It devolves into a sob as Mingi shifts his angle upwards a bit and hits a new spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars. 

“Yeah? Your pussy is clinging to me nice and tight, lovely, I think you like it a little too much.” He has enough composure to still speak without crying, meanwhile, tears are starting to pool at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation of your senses and nerves reaches unimaginable heights. “Bet your pretty little toy isn’t even half as big as me.”

Mingi thrusts so hard into you that his grip on your wrists falters, and one of your hands falls free. He doesn’t bother correcting it, nor do you try to keep it up any longer, instead rushing to get your fingers around your clit again. You’re so hyperfocused on chasing the high of another orgasm that you don’t warn him it’s about to hit you this time. He knows well enough when your body seizes for a moment before releasing every bit of tension in your muscles. Your walls flex around his cock, working him in time with the waves of your euphoria, until he can’t take it anymore and pulls free of your hole. He rests his length atop the cleft of your ass and thrusts a few more times there, then comes his release. Hot ropes of come shoot out from his cock, painting your naked back into a messy canvas of come and sweat.

Despite the sudden quiet filling the house, your hearing is hypervigilant and clings to every slight noise that comes from your partner, from his fight to get air into his lungs to the hand he now rubs over his spent cock. 

“You…” Your throat is too dry and you end up coughing instead of getting a sentence out. Mingi’s fingers trace small, unknown patterns into your hip. “You’re welcome to stay through winter. That’s my answer.”

“Through winter?” Mingi hums. He slips his hand around your waist and flattens his large palm over your abdomen. “What about spring?”

“Then too.”

“And summer?” He’s teasing you again. Somehow he still has the energy to do that.

“And summer and autumn then winter again. But maybe by the spring after that, I’ll be sick of you!”

“You won’t be,” he says through a laugh, lips brushing against the side of your head. You’re going to need better retorts if he plans on sticking around that long.

────────────

please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[chukys-mouthguard]

#2 fluff/angst for quinn hughes pls !! love ur writing !!! 🖤

Prompt: “Your last emergency call was you crying over not having any more sweets at your place, so excuse me for being distrustful.”

Note: Quinn just gives me the vibes of being someone that gets overly annoyed with your “emergency texts” to the point that he ignores you any time you say it’s an emergency figuring you’re being dramatic 😂

Thank you so much! 🫶🏼 I’m so happy to hear you enjoy my writing, hopefully you love this!

“Quintin, fucking, Hughes!” 

You yelled out into your boyfriend’s apartment as you slammed the door. Tossing your bag onto the kitchen counter as you removed your shoes. 

Soon he’d appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he headed down the hall in your direction. 

“Oh you think it’s funny?” 

“Honestly, no, because now my floors are wet. Are you cleaning that up?” 

Quinn crossed his arms across his chest as he looked you up and down. Eyeing your soaking wet frame that was dripping all over the entryway of his apartment. You’d been on your way to Quinn’s place when your car broke down about 5 minutes away. Naturally you called your boyfriend to come and pick you up, but he didn’t answer. 

Figuring he maybe had fallen asleep or was in the shower, and it was only a 10-15 walk, you took your chances. However, you’d instantly regretted that 5 minutes in when it started to downpour. Of course trying to call Quinn again, but no answer. 

“Quinn, my fucking car broke down and you left me to walk in the pouring rain! That’s kind of an emergency situation. Why didn’t you answer? I even texted you! Clearly you were awake, you just ignored me?”

He rolled his eyes as he went to grab a towel for the floor. 

“I saw your text saying it was an emergency, but your last emergency call was you crying over not having any more sweets at your place, so excuse me for being distrustful.”

He tossed the towels onto the floor as he began cleaning up the water that pooled at your feet. A sigh leaving his lips as you were shocked that he actually seemed upset with you. 

“Oh yeah, because a text saying car broken down, pouring rain, can you come get me please, is definitely not an indication that this is more of a fucking emergency then me not having sweets at my place during my period Quinn!” 

He picked up the towels with a laugh as he shook his head, “have you been around you on your period? It’s literally world war three if you run out of sweets.” 

Ignoring Quinn and his disgruntled attitude, you headed to the bathroom to shower. Quinn returning back to his room, rejoining the video games he’d been playing all night with his brothers. 

He listened for the sound of the shower to cease to know you were done. Figuring he should be kind enough to take you some clothes, considering he did ignore you and force you to walk in the pouring rain. 

Softly knocking on the door, Quinn held out a shirt and some shorts for you, flashing an apologetic smile as you thanked him and closed the door. 

Despite your frustrations with Quinn, you couldn’t stay mad at him. It was only rain, thank god it wasn’t snow. Sure he probably could’ve stopped playing video games for the 10 minutes it would’ve taken him to come and get you, but it wasn’t worth you two arguing over or going to be upset. 

Joining him in his bedroom, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Watching as he finished up his game, before turning things off for the night. 

He relaxed in your arms as he sighed, “I’m sorry…I should’ve picked up. I just, you cry wolf a lot so I figured you were joking around.” 

His hand taking yours as he pulled you into his lap, kissing your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Trying to show his sincerity as best as Quinn could. Feeling bad for getting upset with you when he was in the wrong. 

“I get it, I often make up stories or exaggerate. But I mean…did you not hear the storms outside? I obviously didn’t lie about that.” You both laughed as he covered his face in embarrassment. 

“Babe, with these headphones on and Jack and Luke screaming half the time, a murderer could come in here and I’m not hearing shit.” 

You rolled your eyes as you kissed his lips, letting him know you weren’t upset. The situation easily being one to get over. 

“Well, ignore me next time I have an emergency and I might just be that murderer who comes to kill you while you’ve got those things on!” 

“Oh trust me, I’m never ignoring a single text or call from you ever again after tonight!” 

[alexa-fika]

If your requests are open, how would you feel about child reader being found by Garp, Helmeppo, and Koby?

(Maybe their crew thought they were on the ship and accidentally forgot them on an island or something idk, I just want grandpa Garp with his new grandbaby)

New Apprentice (Koby, Helmeppo x gn!Child!reader x Garp)

A/N YA’LL I COOKED HERE, highkey worried that they are ooc here but other than that I LIKE, proud of how this one turn out, let me know what you think of it. Big brother Koby and Helmeppo 🥹, guys am I the only one picturing that being one of the most wholesome things?

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Koby, are you even listening?!”

“Haha, I am Helmeppo”

“Seriously, you have got to start….

Koby let out a nervous laugh as Helmeppo began going on a tangent, scolding him as he focused on the path ahead of him, paying little attention to his partner’s rambles, only giving out the occasional quip here and there to keep him appeased, which did, until he spotted something in the path that got his attention.

He frowned, kneeling down to look at the object, catching the attention of Helmeppo, who watched over his shoulder.

“Huh, is that a stuffed toy?” He asked, looking at the dirt-covered wolf as Koby picked it up, wincing at the red splashes matting its fur

“Yeah…has blood on it.”

“Maybe it’s from someone who left it long ago, maybe from a kid who tripped?” The blond suggested

“No, it’s way too much to be from a scrape, and look,” he said, pointing at the path.

Helmeppo frowned as he spotted the small tracks that cut through the path leading out into the small forest that surrounded it. 

“It rained earlier today, so these had to happen recently, and the blood is fresh, too,” he muttered.

“Let’s go,” The pinkenette announced, following the direction of the tracts, letting himself be guided by the disturbed soil, broken branches, and the occasional drops of red that colored the ground.

“Hey do you thi- Hey! What the hell, Koby?”

“Wha-? What’s wrong Helmeppo-san?”

“Don’t give me that you just chucked a stone at me!”

“What are you talking about Helmeppo-san?” Koby asked, confused as he stood up from his kneeling position as he looked at the tracks

“If it wasn’t you, then wh-OW.”

“I -I will hurt you, s-so go away!” A small voice cried, chucking a rock at the marine

Koby let out a hiss, rubbing his head and turning to the voice, easily finding the culprit standing in one of the tree’s lower branches, a small child holding a handful of stones in their hands.

“Hey, how about we put those down?”

“No!” They cried, throwing yet more rocks at both of them

They squeaked as Helmeppo pulled out his swords and easily cut through the stones set his way. What most caught them off guard, however, was Koby’s sudden disappearance. They stared at the spot he had stood at confused, looking around to see where the man had went with no success.

The child released a surprised gasp as they soon found out the man had appeared beside them on the branch.

Koby enveloped the child in a tight but gentle embrace and jumped off the tree; before he had a chance to address the kid, he found himself stepping back, a shocked look on his face as the child pulled a small knife, trying to stab him.

He frowned, watching as the kid took the opportunity to run behind the tree.

“Koby, wait,” Helmeppo called, putting his arm on his partner’s shoulder to prevent him from pursuing the child.

“Helmeppo-san? We should get the knife from them; they could hurt themselves or hurt someone.”

“I think we should try a different way, look,” he said, gesturing to the crying child peeking out of the tree.

“They aren’t trying to hurt someone; I think they are just scared.”

“Ah, I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Koby cried, taking in the child’s state, letting another cry as the kid ducked behind the tree when he reached out to them.

“Ah, I must have scared you, right? I didn’t mean it; I really am sorry for that,” he apologized, a nervous smile on his face as he sat down. Helmeppo followed suit and sat next to him.

Dokucha popped their head out again, watching as the men sat cross-legged, ways away from the tree.

“Umm, we found this earlier,” Koby tried, showing them the wolf plush.

“Ah! Mr.Okami!” they exclaimed, stepping away from the tree and trying to reach for the stuffed toy, only to realize their actions and quickly step back.

“It’s okay; you can have it back if you’d like; how about we trade?” Helmeppo suggested, pointing to the knife

They seemed to think about it, glancing at the knife in their arms and Helmeppo’s awaiting hand to the stuffed toy Koby was offering to them. Finally, as they slowly made their way to them, they placed the knife on Helmeppo’s hand. The former gave them a small smile as they then walked in front of Koby and grabbed the stuffed toy, hugging the toy tightly as they sat in front of them.

“H-hey, you’re bleeding!” Koby exclaimed, apologizing when they flinched at his tone

Koby glanced at Helmeppo, wondering how they should approach the situation.

“Hey, how about another trade? Your wolf looks like he needs a wash, right?” Helmeppo asks, glancing at their plush

Koby catches on quickly and looks at them with a smile.

“How about we wash him for you, and you let us look at your wound?”

“Y-you’ll keep him safe?”

“The safest,” Koby reassures with a smile.

“Okay”

“Hey, Mister Koby?”

“Yeah?”

“How..umm…how did you disappear before?” They question, looking away as he glanced up at them from his bandaging work

“Disappear?”

“Yeah, when I umm, when I threw a stone at you, you disappeared.”

“Oh, that? It’s a fighting technique; I didn’t disappear; I just moved really fast. It’s called Soru,” he explained with a grin, his attention back on the bandages being applied.

“I uh- I think it was really awesome.”

“Haha, It was nothing; many marines can do it; Helmeppo can do It too,” he brushed off.

“You’re being too modest, Koby,” Helmeppo sighed from his place at the sink, trying to wash the grime and blood off the stuffed toy.

“It’s going to have to soak for a while to make him all clean,” he called, drying his hands off and walking closer to the pair. Seeing the look on the child’s face, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to them.

“Here, you can take care of our Den-den Mushi for now.”

“It looks different,” they muttered.

“What do you mean?” Koby asked as he clipped the bandage and stepped back

“It looked different in the ship; it was black and white.”

Koby and Helmeppo pause, glancing at each other at the kid’s comment

“Ship?” questioned Helmeppo

“Y-Yeah”

“What did you do at the ship?”

“T-they made me clean the ship, but sometimes they would make me fight o-others or test things for them.”

Those words were all the pair needed to grasp where the child might have come from and what their job at the ship could have been.

“Is that how you got that?” Helmeppo said, pointing to their now bandaged wound

They shook their head at that but made no move to explain themselves.

“Could you tell us about it?” Koby prompted

Once again, they received all but a shake of their head.

“Why?” questioned the blond marine, a frown on his face

“I don’t w-want them to hurt me.”

“They won’t,” Koby answered with a grin.

“We’ll protect you,” Helmeppo confirmed with a slight smile.

“Pinky promise?” they asked, holding out their pinkies.

The two let out a small laugh but nodded and interlocked their fingers with theirs, their pinkies enveloping the child’s much smaller ones.

After sealing the promise, Dokucha proceeded to tell them what had occurred. It seemed like the man who they worked under was dark and twisted, enjoying the creation of painful and deadly viruses and, even more, testing it on the child, letting them reach the verge of death before finally giving them the antidote.

Despite this treatment, it was this same man’s love for pitting his subordinates against each other in a deathmatch that caused them their current wound. As they had refused to hurt the other subordinates, they had found themselves being punished for insubordination by the man.

Koby and Helmeppo listened intently to the child’s story, horrified at the treatment they had endured, and drove the two to tears and sniffles as they embraced them and repeated their promise.

Dokucha’s lip trembled as they sat on Koby’s lap, Helmeppo sitting next to them, an older man sitting in front of them listening as his subordinates filled him on what had happened and why they had returned with a child.

“Wahahaha! Another one?!” he laughed, his booming laugh echoing around the small office

“What about you, you little brat? Do you want to be a marine? Or do you want to be a pirate and have me beat that out of you?”

“Uh, Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t thin-

“Eek! I- umm- ah-

“Spit it out!”

“Umm, I- I’m not very good at fighting, and I don’t like it either, but I want to be with Koby and Helmeppo!” They exclaimed, apologizing and returning to their timid state once they had realized their outburst

“Wahahaha! That’s a good answer, you squirt. I think I’m going to like you! In that case, you will train under them.”

“T-Train?! Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t think we are ready to train someone.”

“Don’t worry, Koby! You and Helmeppo will turn them into a fine marine!” He exclaimed with a booming laugh

"How about it, kid?!”

“…” They stayed quiet, unaware of the sudden shift of attention, quiet with a strained smile on their trembling face, eyes blown wide at the interaction

“Uh, Dokucha?” Helmeppo asked, leaning closer to the kid, trying to get their attention

“He was asking you,” he explained

“Yes!”

Koby let out a laugh at their rushed answer as he, too, leaned toward them

“He asked if you would like to train with us, to be a marine.”

“I can be with Koby and Helmeppo?”

“Yes, you would stay with us.”

“I - I really would like that,” they answered bashfully

“Good, I‘ll come by from time to time to check on you and give you some private lessons,” he grinned, smashing his fist against his open palm

“No!!” They screamed as they hightailed it out of the office

“Ah, wait, Dokucha, come back!”

okay I really struggled with the Garp part and the timeskip leading up to him, so do let me know if you liked it. I really struggled him adding him so hopefully it checked the box of Garp and Grandbaby interaction 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[nxtaliaistyping]

scarecrow escaping from Arkham to go to his partner's house and show her how much he missed her (I leave you that idea)

Scarecrow coming back to his girlfriend’s place <3

Author’s note: love love love this request, doctor crane my beloved <3

18+ nsfw, fem reader, fear play mentions, creampie

As Jonathan heaves his way through the typical rain that covered Gotham city at this time of year, he realises he’s still smiling.

Gassing the imbeciles that make up the security team at Arkham asylum had been a gleeful experiment. He’d watched with the familiar glint in his eye how they’d grabbed at their own throats in terror, writhing on the floor as the horror filled their senses.

But he had to tear himself away, knowing this was his chance at escaping. So he’d slipped away from the asylum, keeping to the shadows so no eagle eyed night walker would notice the garish orange of the Arkham prisoner jumpsuits.

His first instinct was to go to a safehouse, get to work right away at enacting his revenge on the city for incarcerating him. But his feet seem to have a mind of their own, and as much as he hates to admit it, his heart does too. So he finds himself knocking harshly on your apartment front door.

On the other side, you're a startled wreck. It's 1am for gods sake, and someone is banging on your door. With a shaky voice you ask who it is, your breath catching as you do.

"...it's me..."

You'd recognize that voice anywhere, and with a furious conviction, you open the door and see your lover standing there. He stumbles in, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair before slamming the door behind him. His hands are on you immediately, pushing you against the wall as he breaths raspily.

"Missed you sweetheart...like you wouldn't believe."

His tone has your skin tingling with excitement as you reach out and gently touch his jawline, as if you confirm he's actually here. "How did you..."

"I'll tell you later." he remarks gruffly, before his lips attach to your neck and gently suck, like his first instinct was to remark you as his own. "Just missed you."

Before it can strike you just how vulnerable he's being, he captures your mouth in a searing kiss that effectively kills off any lingering thoughts you had. It's clumsy and messy, his need winning out over technique as his tongue traces your own.

He moves to place sloppy kisses down your neck, tugging the straps of your nightgown to access more skin. He grins as he feels the material in his fingers; he'd always told you how much he loved that nightgown on you, said it reminded him of a slasher victim in a bad horror film, one who'd provocatively search the house before being killed in a gruesome way.

The white lace makes you look so...vulnerable in his eyes, like a lost lamb willingly baring her neck to the wolf who wants to eat her. So he keeps tugging, until your breasts spill out over the fabric. He attaches his lips to them, sucking softly as you gasp and run fingers through his hair.

"Jonathan...bedroom." you say, knowing that in his state, he'd most likely end up fucking you right there in the hallway. He reluctantly detaches himself from your tit, tugging you hastily to your bedroom and pushing you down onto the mattress.

"You don't know what it was like in that damn place." he remarks, finally getting sick of your nightdress all together and roughly tugging until it hangs loosely around your ankles. "How infuriating it was. I had Nygma in the cell next to me ranting that nobody was matching wits with him, and Tetch in the other going on about wonderland or whatever bullshit."

He moves to your wet pussy, hole twitching slightly as he runs his long digits through your folds. Catching the wetness, he circles your clit in precise circles as he continues. "Couldn't even relieve myself without someone ruining the fantasy."

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, and the grin he gives you should frighten you...if you were anyone else.

"Oh dear...I was thinking of you dripping over my lap, high on my fear toxin as i delivered spank after spank over that pretty ass of yours."

You whimper at his words, just as he sinks two fingers inside your cunt. He crooks them, feeling your g spot and sighing at the familiar texture. "And about how delicious you'd look as I fucked you, so scared and brainless, clinging onto me for dear life."

He fingers you quickly, eager to prep you so he can be inside of you once again. He never used to be like this, so desperate for wanton physical contact. But you've changed him, wormed your way into his life and heart until he craves you, craves the reactions and noises you give him as you lie helplessly beneath him.

"A pity I used up all my toxin on the guards." he lies, in truth he has some left over in his overall pocket, but he keeps up the charade. "Oh what a lovely victim you always make."

He pulls his fingers out roughly, giving your swollen clit a nice spank for good measure before hastily stripping. You sit up to watch him, missing him just as much as he'd missed you. The dangerous man before you had been the subject of all of your salacious and desperate fantasies as you'd touched yourself the whole time he was in Arkham. Nobody was like him, nobody could give you the thrill that Jonathan could. And as he rubs his swollen cock along your folds, feeling the way you write, you know that you don't want anyone else.

He enters you, giving you the courtesy of going slowly as he deduces it'll have been a while since you've had something substantial filling you up like this. As he bottoms out with a guttural groan, your fingernails dig in to his shoulders, the pain delicious to Jonathan as he bucks his hips, driving his cock impossibly deep.

"Fuck...you minx." he mutters, starting to fuck you. Each thrust he ensures that he's reaching as far in as he can, wanting to feel every bit of you.

You moan softly with each thrust, telling him how much you missed him too, how lonely it's been without him. And each sentence has his heart-rate spiking in a way that feels dangerous. He never meant to form attachments, thinking it as weak, or a distraction from his work. But it's clear now more than ever that he can't let you go.

So he drives into you faster, burying his face in your neck and biting, leaving harsh hickeys all over your throat. "Mine...mine."

"All yours Jonathan."

He groans again at your words, feeling his dick throb with desire. He knows he won't last long, being apart from you for so long (and his age) meaning his stamina has taken a direct hit. But he savors the moment regardless, feeling you on your back beneath him, like you were meant to be.

"Not gonna last..." he warns, and you nod in understanding, locking your legs around him to ensure he cums inside.

With a couple more thrusts, he empties himself inside your cunt as it milks him for all he has. His moan is broken and desperate, but the relief is palpable in his tone as he relaxes. The tension in his shoulders seems to lift, as his breath heaves.

"I...really did miss you." he reiterates, somewhat annoyed at himself for feeling the need to tell you once again, but the soft look on your face makes it worth it...at least a little.

[yandere-sins]

How would it be if blade's darling had wanted to contact him, though? Maybe to try and talk about things? They probably wouldn't know about the mind reset kafka does, so when they try to contact him to set up a meeting they think he remembers them.

Oh my god, that just gave me the sweetest of images! Some yandere's love is just so pure, I swear ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Blade didn't really know why he reacted so fast to the unknown sound.

He usually didn't get bothered by that thing in his pocket, a device Kafka made him walk around with, telling him to check it regularly. It pling! and dundun! all day long, notifications appeared on its screen that he didn't usually react to unless someone mentioned him by name. Why would he? He knew his mission; there was no need to be in constant contact with the others.

Bing!

And yet, when a new sound rang in his ears, one he hadn't heard before, Blade stopped dead in his tracks. The guy he was hunting hurdled away, crawling through the pools of blood on the floor while the rain washed away the evidence of battle. Holding his bloody stomach, he watched the Hunter reach into his pocket, picking up his phone, unbothered by the massacre in front of him, almost as if he forgot about his target that took the chance to scramble to his feet, running for his dear life.

Blade gazed at the bright screen, his eyes hurting, but he didn't even notice the pain as he read the latest banner that notified him of a message.

we need to talk

The hairs at the back of his neck stood straight as he read those four words. Blade's mouth ran dry while his breathing stopped. As if he had to hear better, every one of his motions ceased, and the sounds of the constant traffic in the distance vanished. He felt fury build up as raindrops landed on his screen, the words vanishing. Yet he didn't understand why.

Bing! Bing!

He flinched. Even a second time and repeated, this sound differed from when Kafka or Silver Wolf tried to contact him. He didn't remember it ever ringing out before. A slight shake of nervousness went through him, followed by a spark of excitement. Before he knew it, he was reading the message—eager, desperate.

[Location sent]  meet me here tonight, we really have to talk. i want this to end, you have to...

The message preview stopped there, and Blade snapped out of his trance. Slowly, his eyes trudged to the sender's name, but it was only a culmination of unfamiliar numbers. He looked at the time next, and with a twinge of disappointment, he realized it was early noon at best. A shaky breath escaped him, and for the first time since he got the notifications, he looked up into the dark alleyway before him.

It was quiet, no more breathing of his enemies. Yet, he could hear his own blood pounding in his ears and feel the desperate grip on the sword he still clutched onto. It had not been drenched in the blood of his target completely, yet, he didn't feel the yearning of finishing a job.

Instead, Blade felt compelled to go.

Where to, he didn't know. Somewhere, or precisely, where he should go, but he had never opened the message he received with the location. All he knew was that he had to go there. His legs moved on their own, steps splashing in the wet puddles on the ground. By the time he walked out onto the busy street, his sword had vanished, but not that feeling of urgency pushing him forward.

What were those feelings? Why did they keep aggravating him so? His head hurt as the lights of the cars flashed by him, taking in every moment of his pain. He should stop. He had to call Kafka. Something was wrong, and although he couldn't pinpoint it, it would be dangerous to continue on this unfamiliar path on his own.

Reaching into his pocket, he felt the little device vibrate against his fingers, followed by the now-more familiar Bling! he began to dread yet anticipate at the same time.

don't chicken out this time! just come and let's talk... i know you can see my messages

Staring at the message for a moment, he let the phone sink back into his pocket, never bothering to reply. You knew he was going to come, and he would. He wouldn't miss it for anything in this world.

You?

Who?

His legs carried him onwards into the unknown, but something told him that he knew exactly where he could find you, even if he didn't remember. Something inside him knew, and this feeling grew and grew stronger until it robbed him of any reason. There was a pull on him so strong, he couldn't help but pursue it—hunt it.

You, whoever you are, were his next target, and he had to have you. All to himself. Pressed against his marred body, engulfed by his shadow, never to be seen by anyone else again. Never to be touched unless it were his fingers resting gently against your skin, and never to be tasted unless it was on his lips and tongue. If he must devour you to have you all to himself, he would. And he would tear you down and ruin you to the point that no one would dare to take his prey away from him.

Blade had to have you. Savagely, violently. All to himself.

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted from him. Why you contacted him, or how you even knew about this pitiful creature with a heart beating so fast that he felt real fear for its safety inside of him. But he'd find you, have you, and destroy you.

And he couldn't wait to meet you.

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter three

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

a/n: OMFG I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! Life has been like one raging tornado and has not slowed down in forever. My Wattpad was also deleted so I lost writing motivation for a long time too...But, I'm going to attempt to update this story more since I was so excited for it and I know you are too! Thank you to everyone who has left comments, I read them all and I really appreciate it! <3

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

taglist (crossed out = couldn't be tagged): @oopscoop || @writingwithmai || @osakis-gf || @hiefisch || @effielumiere || @singukieee || @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh || @littlrmills14-blog || @welcometomyworld13 || @chaimin || @demarie04 || @manic-atthe-disco || @blancflms || @ingyusart || @realrintaro || @braveangel777 || @ldysmfrst || @kpopmultistantrashsstuff || @vaishavi4w || @foreverddaeng

I decided to wake up early the next morning so that I could make breakfast for everyone. When I got downstairs, I noticed that it was still raining outside. Although it wasn’t as bad as last night, it still wasn’t anything that someone should be outside in.

Making breakfast was a challenge. This is the most food I’ve ever had to make at once. Not to mention that I have to make it as quiet as possible so as not to wake the hybrids with sensitive hearing.

About halfway through making breakfast, I heard light footsteps coming down the hall from the stairs. Turning towards the doorway of the kitchen, I see Seokjin peeking in. “Good morning,” I say and smile at him.

“Good morning,” his voice is still soft and quiet like it was last night. He fidgets in the doorway, watching as I move around the kitchen.

“Do you want to help?” I ask him.

He looks up at me, startled. “...Can I?”

“Of course. Do you know how to make pancakes?” He nods his head yes. “Great, then you can help me decide what kind to make. You know everyone’s preference better than I do so you’ll be a big help in making sure everyone eats happily.”

By the time the food was ready, we had made a wide variety of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and had several bowls of mixed fruits as well. Being hybrids, especially those like the wolf and tiger, they will have big appetites. In general, they all will as grown men so I don’t have any doubt that all of the food will be eaten in no time.

“Seokjin?” I ask and he looks up at me with a hum from where he was helping set the table. “I can finish this if you want to go get everyone up please?” He nods and scampers to get the rest of his pack.

A few minutes later, loud shuffling is heard as all seven of them make their way toward me in the dining room. “Good morni–oof!” In the middle of greeting them, I was interrupted by a bundle of hyper, furry, warmth in the form of Jungkook. He rushed to me as soon as he saw me and wrapped me in his arms in a tight hug.

The others look at him in panic. “Jungkook!” Several of them shouted in worry.

I just laugh, gently patting him on the back, causing him to practically melt in my arms. “Well, good morning to you too, bunny. Did you sleep well?”

He pulls away from me and nods erratically. “Uh-huh! The bed was so warm and cozy. I haven’t slept this well in forever. I almost didn’t want to get up when Jin came to wake us up.” He smiles brightly showing me his adorable bunny teeth and I can hear his foot thumping happily against the floor again.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” I think I’m starting to understand the fond looks I’ve caught the others throwing at Jungkook when they think he isn’t looking. “You could have stayed in bed a bit longer if you wanted. Although, I’m not sure breakfast would taste as good warmed up in the microwave as opposed to fresh off the stove.”

His bunny ears perk up on top of his head at the mention of food and he quickly shuffles to the table. Everyone watches him go in silence before we all follow him, moods lifted due to his enthusiasm.

I turn to the others who still seem to be waiting for me to make the first move, despite Jungkook’s gung-ho attitude. “Well go ahead,” I tell them, gesturing to the table. “You don’t have to wait for me, help yourselves.”

Like the previous night, they all shuffled around the table, clumsily finding their seats. They kept the same configuration as before; the predators surrounding the prey and effectively cutting me off. I don’t mind though if that’s what it takes to keep them comfortable here.

With the risk of irritating them, I spoke up. “So I figured we should set some ground rules, you know, besides the few from last night.” They all shuffled nervously, slowing their eating. Namjoon and Yoongi particularly seemed bothered by this sentence as their eyes narrowed slightly at me in response.

Sensing their worry I work quickly to console them. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” I wave my hands frantically.

Jimin peers at me curiously through his bangs. “What are the rules?” His voice was timid but it didn’t shake as he used it.

“Well, you guys are welcome to stay as long as you need to,” I say, smoothing the napkin down in my lap. “You can pretty much do whatever you’d like. The estate is big so there’s a lot to explore. I just ask that you be careful. This was my family’s home so lots of stuff in here has sentimental meaning.”

“I also ask that you maybe help around the house every so often…” I trail off as they all turn nervous and upset. “I’m not asking you to pick up a bunch of chores or anything like that! Maybe just help me keep tidy by cleaning up any messes you make. And Seokjin, I could tell you liked helping me with breakfast this morning.” The ferret hybrid turns slightly rosy with the attention now on him. “I would love your help every so often,” I say softly, chuckling under my breath. “Lord knows I’m not the best cook.”

They start to relax slightly but some tension remains, keeping the muscles in their bodies taught and hair on end.

They finished the rest of their breakfast in a slightly uncomfortable silence, the only sound heard was gentle chewing and the gentle scrape of forks against plates.

When morning pleasantries were done, they all stayed in their awkward huddle like the night before, waiting for me to give them instructions or dismiss them.

Jungkook shuffled in place and I could tell he wanted to say something. “What is it, Jungkook?” I asked, urging him to say what was on his mind.

“Umm…do you have any video games?” He asks shyly, bunny ears twitching nervously atop his head. The others look between the two of us timidly, as if waiting for me to snap at him for asking the question.

I chuckle softly, eyes lighting up. I’ve been waiting for someone who was enough of a challenge when it comes to gaming. “Of course I do!” I exclaim, ushering him to the spacious living room where my console sits. 

I’m learning very quickly that Jungkook is very animated in the way that his body seems to speak for him most of the time. His nose twitches in excitement as he bounds towards the large sofa, picking up a controller.

Jin slowly makes his way to the couch, taking up the space next to Jungkook. The other hybrids exchange a glance, trying to decide which predator will stay with their more docile counterparts. Taehyung squeezes his way between the two on the couch, making it clear to me that they are under his watch at the moment.

Not saying anything, I plop down in the recliner a few feet away and turn my attention to the remaining hybrids. “You’re more than welcome to stay and play with us. If not, there’s plenty else to do. There’s a small library, a home theater, an art studio, and of course your bedrooms and any other rooms you can find something to do as well.” As I list off things they can do, I notice some of their eyes light up about certain rooms.

Namjoon’s face seemed to brighten when I mentioned the library and Taehyung’s ears twitched slightly at the mention of the art room. Something to keep in mind later when he’s done staking claim over his pack mates.

With no further instructions needed, the rest of the hybrids dispersed, venturing to various places across the house while I settled in to play video games with the few that remained.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: Some Soulmate - Chapter Two

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x Reader

Description: Y/N a member of the Cullen family is imprinted on by one of the wolves, she is shocked, he is shocked. She is struggling with drinking animal blood over human, and he is disgusted by a vampire for a soulmate… But maybe it could work..?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1,794

I spent the next week, being moody, I didn't go to school. I was so angry at the world. I found my soulmate, if I didn't have my stupid gift I wouldn't of known. And it's been a week since, and my imprinter hasn't tried to find me. Vampires and Wolfs were enemies. Whoever he was probably hated me already. 

And yeah it hurt. I wanted to know who he was. This could be my chance at happiness. 

I decided to get out of my pajamas and leave the house, I headed straight to the hospital. I walked through the place smiling and not letting anyone stop me. I walked into Carlisle's office, he was sitting there smiling. 

I saw on the chair next to his desk. 

"Carlisle, you are my longest and most important friend, you're my brother and I love you" I smiled sweetly.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled at me.

"You want my help?" He asked I nodded. "That obvious?"

"I can't change the treaty Y/N" He signed. 

"I just want to meet him" I whispered. 

"I know, but I can't break the treaty, and unless Sam comes to the hospital and I have no way of speaking to him" Carlisle said I could hear how upset he was in his voice.

"He hasn't even tried to find me" I sniffled. 

"I am very sorry Y/N, if Sam does come in, I'll ask"

I nodded and thanked him and left the hospital. Maybe if I went back to the forest. 

Just as I was about to leave the hospital, I hear Carlisle say "The school called, show up"

I rolled my eyes and left the hospital, I walked to my motorbike and drove to the school. I could Probably make my last class, history. I shared history with Jasper, which I loved because we're both old enough to have lived through most of what they're teaching us. 

I walked into the school, it was still lunchtime, maybe ten minutes left until class.

"Hey Y/N!" I turned around to see Mike. I quietly groaned. 

"Hello Mike, I was just making my way to my siblings"

"Yes, well maybe I thought you had re-considered prom"

"Nope, still not going, maybe you should ask someone else" I smile, walking away quickly. 

I entered the cafeteria and quickly saw my siblings, I walked over and sat with them, smiling. 

"Mike Newton asked me out again" 

"Maybe it'd take your mind off-"

I stopped Emmett finishing his sentence, and shook my head. 

"I felt him imprinting on me, it felt so good. It felt like happiness, it felt like never thirsting over a human again, it felt complete. How can I ever love someone else?" I asked, standing up, just before the bell rang.

"Are you saying you're in love with him?" Alice asked. 

"No, I don't even know him, and it seems like he doesn't want to know me" I signed, and walked away. Jasper trailing after me. Luckily, Jasper jumped up a few grades in history. Being a know it all does that.

I smiled when I felt a calmness wash over me. 

"Thank you Jasper" 

~~~~~~~

I spent every evening after school in the forest, trying to maybe find him again. I walked along the treaty line, for hours but nothing. He didn't show up. I was starting to feel as if I should give up. 

I walked back home, rather than run. 

Esme was waiting for me with open arms, I smiled and hugged her. 

"We're heading out to play baseball, want to join?" She asked, I thought about it, I wasn't much of a sports person. I nodded though, I could watch. 

I traveled in Rosalie's car with her and made sure to bring a book with me. We reached the field as the rain started. I smelt Bella before I saw her.

I smiled at her, before sitting and leaning against the car and beginning my book. 

The game began shortly after, I watched every now and again, it was a treat to watch my family play. It made me feel human, strangely. I started to read again, getting lost in my book. I was reading Peter Pan again, I loved it so much. 

"Y/N!" Edward yelled I looked up, to see them gathered in a group, all wearing a worried expression. I jumped up and sped to them. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

"I saw them coming, three vampires" Alice replied. 

I didn't realise the problem until I remembered Bella.

"Do we have time to get her out of here?" I asked, Alice, shook her head and pointed to the trees. Suddenly three vampires emerged. They were kind of beautiful, but I had already decided I had a crush on the redhead. I wasn't normally into women, though there was this time in the 70s. Edward gave me a look. I grinned back. 

Carlisle was speaking to them about our permanent home. 

"How about we play more ball?" I ask when I notice how the blonde was staring intently at Edward. Edward was acting strange. He needed to chill.

"Yes, how about three more players?" Asked one of the vampires. 

"Some of us were just leaving, so you're more than welcome" Carlisle spoke. 

My family and vampires got ready to start the game again until the blonde turned around eyes on Bella.

"You brought a snack" He spoke. 

We all, including me, bared our teeth and jumped in front of Bella.

"She's with us!" Carlisle sneered. 

Quickly, Edward took Bella to the car and we followed. Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and I drove back to our house. 

"What's happening?" I asked. 

"I'm not sure Y/N" Esme spoke. 

We reached the house and the others were there already. 

"James is a tracker" Edward started "He wants Bella and he thinks its a game" 

"What do we do?" Emmett asked. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I stayed behind, at home, to look after Charlie. I had met him a few times, him being the chief. I walked up to his door and knocked. 

He answered he looked broken. After what happened with him and Bella I understood. 

"Hello Chief Swan" I smiled, and then realised I had no idea what I'd say to get him to invite me in. 

"Sorry Y/N can I help you?" He asked. I noticed there were more heartbeats inside. 

"Bella told me she left something of mine in her room, could I get it please?" I asked I needed to check if James or the other two were here.

"Yeah that's fine," He said and let me inside. 

I walked into the living room to see two people. An old man in a wheelchair and a teenage boy. I smiled and went to walk upstairs. 

"Who's this Charlie?" The man asked, his eyes glaring at me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, he hated me, I could feel his hatred beaming at me. 

"This is Y/N Cullen" Charlie answered "She's really nice, Bella spoke highly of her" 

She did? I smiled and walked upstairs to Bella's room. I couldn't smell the vampires. It only smelt like Edward and Alice. I grabbed a random book from Bella's bookshelf and locked the window. I walked downstairs to see Charlie and the man talking. 

The boy smiled at me. 

"Hey I'm Jacob" He held his hand out to shake. 

"Hey I'm Y/N, not big on touching" I giggled, I could feel the heat radiating off him, touching my hand would probably freeze him. 

"I've not seen you at school" I add. 

"I go to school on the reservation" He answered. Oh. Where I couldn't go. 

He might even know the wolf. But I couldn't exactly ask 'Hey do you know this random wolf I saw' Wait...

"Hey, do you know Sam Uley?" I asked.

"Why do you want Sam Uley?" The man in the wheelchair asked. 

Oh no. What do I say?

"I need to ask him something" I smiled as sweetly as I could. 

The man sneered. 

"Sam wants nothing to do with you" 

Ouch. Okay.

"Well bye, Charlie!" I smiled and rushed out of the house. I was never going to meet him. Unless I walked onto their territory. I' probably die straight away. Though I did read that the person that a wolf imprinted on couldn't be harmed. Though it said, person. I was far from a person. 

I ran home, thinking, and thinking about crossing the line. I needed too. No one was home. I could do it.

I ran to my room quickly, I checked how I looked. 

I didn't normally care, but potentially meeting your soulmate makes you wanna look nice. 

I looked in the mirror, I needed to cut my hair, it was almost at my waist. I changed into some clean clothes, nothing special, a black pair of jeans and a grey top which said 'I'd rather be sleeping' it made me smirk. I decided to put some makeup on. Something to make me look less pale, and add a bit of colour to my skin, also to hide the black around my eyes. I looked pretty. My amber eyes would probably freak him out, and I've heard vampires don't smell good to wolves. 

Nothing I can do about that. I raced out of my home, just in case my family returned. I ran until I reached the border. I felt so nervous. I took one little step and yes, I did it. 

I was in the Quileute territory. Last time I was on this side, we made the treaty. To a completely different set of wolves, saying that that man in the wheelchair did look familiar. Maybe he was one when he was younger, it was so many years ago.  

"What are you doing here leech!" A voice yelled at me, I jumped back so I was over the line. 

"I'm sorry, I was just looking for someone!" I stuttered. The man looked at me, he looked angry, like he could turn into a wolf any second angry. Not good. Was this Sam?

"Are you Sam Uley?" I asked he nodded. 

"Oh" Was all he said. Why? I was so confused. 

"Maybe you should come with me," He said in a stern voice. 

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Paul imprinted on you, and it's hurting him because he won't allow himself to feel for you" He admitted.

"Paul" I whispered, his name was Paul, I smiled slightly, even thinking about his name made me smile. 

"You can trust me," Sam said, I looked at him. I could trust him. I didn't quite understand how he felt about me, he didn't like me. But I knew he wouldn't hurt me. 

"Okay, I'll come with you" Time to meet my mate...

Previous Part - Next Part

[nena-la-fresa]

The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 4|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 3

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Smut with Plot | Pregnancy | Soft Aemond | Biting | P in V | Light Choking | Oral F Receiving | Tiny bit of a Violent Dream | A bit of angst

Word Count: 4052

A/N: Hasn't been proof read yet. Sorry this one is a long one but I wanted to end it here. Ik i wouldn't be able to commit to a longer story. So imma stop it here before I fuck it up. I also plan on writing some one shots of Aemond and some of Michael Gavey cuz I have a small obsession with this man at the moment.

No matter how many times you had visited the godswoods in the Red Keep you had not seen a single vision. You had kneeled there for hours, yet nothing. You prayed to them, hoping they had not abandoned you. This gift they had kissed upon you had been taken for what felt like a month. You hoped this would not be the end of your life and your families. Even if it was the end you kept praying. 

“M’lady please.” Your maid begged you once again as she had an hour ago. 

“Mira, you do not need to stay. I’ll do another hour.” 

“M’lady please. You’ll catch a cold, you’re drenched. We need to warm you up.” 

You finally opened your eyes, you looked down and noticed the smell of the water beneath your knees. The way your loose hairs had stuck onto your neck and face, and the way the water had tickled your cheek as it ran down. Now out of your trance you heard heavy footsteps approaching you and Mira. 

Ser Criston Cole had appeared, with a blank expression on his face he spoke, “The queen would like to speak to you.” 

You sighed before getting up, “Thank you Ser Criston Cole. Let me change and then I shall meet with her.” 

“Now” He had hardly spoken. 

Taken aback by his tone, “Are those in her words or your?” 

“The matter is urgent. She would like to speak now.” 

“Alright.” You rolled your eyes before attempting to pat off the dirt that had clung to your dress. 

In a hushed hiss voice Mira spoke, “M’lady you sat there in the rain for hours. A simple pat would not take it out.” 

You said nothing but a quiet sorry. She was right to be upset though.

You had gotten looks from almost everyone as you walked down the corridors to the Queens chambers. You had excused Mira as you and Cole had entered the room. As the doors opened Alicent had turned around, her eyes widened. 

“My gods, what on earth happened to you.” She grabbed a blanket nearby and walked over to you to wrap you with it. 

“Forgive me your grace. I was praying in the godswoods and had not noticed the rain.” You pause and cling onto the warmth. “I was going to change but Ser Criston Cole said it was urgent.” 

In the corner of your eye you could see him glare at you. “The matter was urgent but you could have changed.” She began to pull you towards the fire to warm up. “I’ll keep it short then.” 

As you both were seated she handed you a cup of tea. “I’m sorry for the bluntness but, have you bleed?” 

Your hands stopped, it took you a moment to process. It had been a month, a month of praying to the gods of the old. A month of sitting there and not a single moment had you realized you never bleed. An entire month, you had never been late, your cycle was always on time, maybe a few days late but never a month. “I” You paused, “No, I haven't. Not since before the wedding.” 

With a bit of remorse on Alicents face, she gave a half smile. That look you had was one she knew all too well. “That’s wonderful. It’s wonderful news, especially news we can give out at Aemonds coronation day.” 

“Oh, yes, his coronation day.” The events that had taken your wedding day came flooding back. “Will you be telling Aemond” 

She nodded, “He should be here soon.” 

Just as the first day he met you, he saw you sitting there. This time by the fire, he watched as the fire had illuminated your face. The way it kissed your features, the way it had made your face glow. Yet this time there was a somber look on your face that you tried to hide with a smile. 

“Hello Husband. We seem to keep meeting this way.” There was an ache in his heart as you went back to calling him Husband. He loved the way you called him by his name. Yet he knew it was his own fault. He had pulled back from you, not because he despised you. But because he despised himself. How could he touch you, not after what he did, not after what he did to his flesh and blood with his own hands. The situation with Aegon was different than Lucerys, with Lucerys it was out of his control. But with Aegon, it was by will. Not only that but for another reason he could not even dare think of it in fear it may come true. 

Alicent could feel the tension, she spoke to try and break it. “Aemond, please sit. I’d like to speak to both of you.” 

He nodded his head and proceeded to sit next to you on the sofa. 

“I was telling Y/n that your coronation day was coming soon. Your grandsire has arranged everything and things have been prepared accordingly. As for your coronation day, we will first check with the maester, but if our assumptions are correct, we will announce the celebration of your first child.” 

You could feel his hard gaze on you as fidgeted with your fingers. Was he mad? Was he upset that you had gotten pregnant so fast? Did he now feel even more tied to you? Did he resent you for this? Like always thoughts had flooded your mind. Without the sight it was impossible to make decisions or to pass judgment on him. You felt vulnerable, you had never felt like this before. You had always been two steps ahead of any suitor or any man in general. But now here you are, a wolf in the den of a dragon. What were you to a dragon? Nothing really. Your sight was all you had to feel in control, and now with it gone you truly felt what other women felt. Powerless. 

“I see.” Aemond had spoken. “Thank you mother. I hope that in time you will be able to guide my lady wife in her responsibilities as the new Queen.” 

She nodded, “Yes of course. And your grandsire will speak to you of your responsibilities as well.” 

“Was there anything else?” 

“No, that was all. You both may take your leave.” Alicent stood up. 

Both you and Aemond had as well, as you all headed towards the door Alicent spoke for the last time, “Congratulations. You both have done well.” You and Aemond nodded. 

Just as you think you both walk in opposite directions Aemond places his hand on your lower back. You look up at him, yet he does not look at you. He began to guide you towards his chambers. When he noticed some maids passing by he asked them to draw a bath in his chambers. They obliged. 

By the time you both had reached the room the bath had already been drawn. He excused the maids. He led you to the front of the tubs, from behind he began to untie your gown. You looked over your shoulder and pulled away. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Stand still.” His voice stern. Yet he continued to speak, “Do you know how idiotic it was to stay in the rain? You could have gotten sick.” 

You spoke lightly, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Clearly.” 

He helped you into the tub after he had removed your dress and let down your hair. As you laid back in the tub he began to wash your hair. 

“The realm can not afford to lose its heir.” 

You had rolled your eyes, “Yes husband, as I am simply a child maker. And my life does not matter.” 

He lightly pulled on your hair causing you to glare back at him. “I wasn’t finished.” He had grabbed your chin lightly so that you wouldn’t look away. “While the realm can not afford it. I could not afford to lose you.”

Your eyes looked away from his, “Oh and is that why you have avoided me for a month?” 

“Yes.” You scoffed at his remark. 

“My uncle is still alive. We killed his children and his wife, what do you think he’d do if he found out I have grown fond of you. That I have a weakness for you, and now our child. He would burn you alive. Cut you in half, torture you, feed you to caraxes. What would I do if that happened?” 

“Kill him and remarry.” 

“You think that coldly of me?”  

“I have heard rumors that you were with a woman before me. What would stop you from doing the same? You are clearly loyal to your mother and if she wished you to remarry for the sake of the realm you would. I am nothing but a pawn in your family's game. I have done my duty and if I die then that is in the fate of the gods.” 

He was taken aback by your willingness to die. He had noticed a shift in your behavior for a while. The past month he had watched you from a distance, always seeing you praying in the godswood. It was all you did, he had to send maids to come and bring you food whenever you noticed you being there for more than an hour. 

“You have the sight. You are not just a pawn. Clearly my grandsire saw it as something.” 

“Yet I do not have the sight! The gods have clearly punished me! I have not had a single vision or dream since I got here. I have nothing, I am nothing.” 

“You are not nothing. You are my wife. You are to be queen.” 

Tears began to well up, “But I can not just be that. My whole life I have been a greenseer. How could I have that taken from me?” 

“Would you like to go back for a few days?” 

“Where?” 

“Home. To Winterfell.” 

“No, it’s too far. Your coronation is soon, riding there would take months.” 

“Not by dragon's back.” 

“Dragon’s back?” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“I’ve never been on a dragon. Let alone see one up close.” You shook your head. 

“It would only be for four days.” 

“Why are you being nice to me?” 

“Were you not listening to me, my lady wife?” He teased. 

“No.” 

“I could never replace you. You are now everything to me” He had leaned in closer. 

He planted a soft kiss on your cheek, “That is why I am being nice.” 

His lips moving closer to your lips. His kisses were intoxicating, no matter if you were angry at him. No matter if he had ignored you. Ever since that day he first kissed you, you had become addicted to it regardless of your feelings. 

“You can’t leave me again. You can’t shut me out. I can’t be here alone. I can’t do this without you.” Your eyes clouded with lust, with caving for his affection. 

“Alright.” He smirked lightly. 

“Promise?” 

He chuckled, “I promise.” 

His lips touched yours. The kiss was sloppy, desperate. You turned around to face him, pulling him closer. Through the kiss you began to help him undress. As he got in the water he pulled you onto his lap. His hands on your waist to hold you up right while your hand drifts down his chest. 

You found his cock already hard, it twitched at your touch. You gripped it tightly causing him to hiss. Your lips leave his as you travel down to his neck. As you suck on his neck you begin to pump his cock causing him to grunt lightly. You looked up at him, seeing his eyes closed as his head leaned back. The look of him like that caused your body to feel on fire. You bit his chest lightly, a groan left his lips. 

Unwilling to wait anymore you aligned him to your cunt. Rubbing him against your lower lips.

“Fuck” His hand moving from your waist to his cock.

But before he could grab himself you stopped his hand. This caused him to open his eyes and look up at you. He watched as you guided his hands from your stomach, passed your breast to reach your throat. That was when you sank down onto his cock, taking all of him. You let out a light moan feeling his warmth. 

He watched as you arched your back and began to move your hips. He lightly squeezed his hand causing your breath to hitch. All he could do was watch, watch as your perfectly shaped tits bounded with the rhythm of you bouncing on his cock. He hadn’t seen you clearly the first time you had sex. But now, he could clearly see you. The candles that surrounded the tub had illuminated you perfectly. The way your hair clung to your neck, the way the water dripped down your face. It made you look ethereal. Too delicate for him to touch, he was afraid that he would break you. 

But your whispers of his name tempted him. He needed more. He sat up, moving you with him. Once he had you both in a comfortable position he lifted you up. He carried you over to the bed. He had placed you on the bed and told you to get in the center. He then told you to turn around and bend over. He watched as you hesitated slightly but then did what he told you to do. Your forearms resting on the bed as your ass stuck up in a position that gave him a view of everything. You felt vulnerable, especially as he had not made a sound. This caused you to look back at him. You just saw him standing there looking at you, his cock just as hard as he had begun to stock it at the sight he was blessed with. 

“Aemond.” You whispered his name again. 

Just with his name he had moved closer to you. You felt the shift in the bed, you felt his hands making their way to your hips once more. His cock aligning with your cunt, he had rubbed himself against you smearing his juices against your wet cunt. It didn’t take long before he filled you up. He groaned at the feeling of your warm cunt, it pulled him in and held onto him tight as he pulled back and forth. 

His pace began to speed up and the sounds of your sweet moans. Each trust is getting harder and hitting the right spots. You felt him pull you back to him, your back against his chest as he continued to fuck you. He moved the hair from your neck, his lips sucking gently on your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your cunt tightening around him more. That last squeeze was enough to tip him over the edge. He came, his cum overflowing out of your cunt as he pulled out. 

He watched as his cum dripped from your cunt to the bed. You felt a shift in the bed again. You felt something between your legs. Before you knew it his lips were against your cunt. He lapped at your dripping cunt. His groan vibrated against your lower lips. 

“You taste so fucking good.” 

You sat up and watched him, his eyes closed as you would grind down on his face. You moaned as you felt his tongue slip between your folds. As you gripped his hair you watched as he opened his eyes. He stared back at you, sucking hard on your clit. You felt a tingling sensation pass through your whole body. Your knees felt weak, Aemond could feel it too. Once you had come down from your high, you got off him. 

Your back now against the bed. You took a moment to collect your thoughts. He was in you just seconds ago but you missed the feeling of him filling you up. But he wouldn’t let you rest, not yet. 

“I’m not done. Not yet. I need you, in every possible way.” Aemond leaned down and kissed your lips as he entered you again. 

Your moans and the sound of the bed creaking could be heard throughout the halls. The whispers of your marriage not being consummated during your period of silence with each other would be silence. 

Morning came quickly, the sun was now shining as the storm had passed. You awoke to the sound of the birds singing and to the feeling of an arm wrapped around you. You opened your eyes and looked down. Aemond had done the decency to cover you both after you had knocked out. But what made your heart flutter was the placement of his hand on your stomach. You didn’t know if he placed his hand there intentionally or just by coincidence. Either way it made you feel secure. Not just for you but for this child.

You placed your hand on his, he was warm. You didn’t understand how he could always be so warm, especially with how cold he looked. You tried to remove his hand to get up but he pulled you back into him. 

“Are you planning to run away so early, wife?” Aemond nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 

You smiled and turned around in his arms, “No dear husband. I plan on getting ready so that we may go to Winterfell.” 

“Everything is ready. We just need to get out of bed.” Aemond kept his eyes closed and ran his fingers up and down your arm. 

“How do you know it’s all ready? We only spoke of it last night.” 

“Earlier this morning, your maid had come in to wake you. I told her of our plans and asked her to get help setting everything up.” 

“I see.” You paused, “So then why are we still in bed?” 

“Because my dear wife. After all your nagging yesterday, you looked so beautiful sleeping. I could not dare wake you.” 

Aemond opened his eyes to find you glaring at him. He kissed your forehead, “After all that yesterday, you still find ways to upset me?” 

“How could I not?” He smirked before placing a kiss on your lips. 

After an hour or two you both had finally got ready. He had taken you to where Vhagar was, and there you stood. The giant stood before you, the air it had realized from its nose blew your hair slightly. Aemond pulled you closer, he placed your hand on Vhagar. He spoke in High Valyrian, and it seemed to have called the dragon down. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to ride with you?” 

“Yes. You’ll just sit in front of me.” 

The trip was long, but not as long as you had spent in the carriage. You felt the cold breeze hit you. The smell of open air, of the woods you had always remembered. Once Vhagar had landed you were greeted with your fathers men. They were taken by surprise and led you both to your father. You had explained everything to him, and how you would only be there for a bit so that you could be back in time for Aemonds coronation. With that he let you go, but requested an audience with Aemond. There you were taken to the godswood. It felt different, different than the one in the Red Keep. You kneeled in front of the tree and began to pray.

After what felt like hours there had been footsteps behind you. Turning you noticed Aemond heading towards you. You watched as he took in the woods. 

“Beautiful isn't it.” You got up and headed towards him. 

He nodded his head and reached up to touch one of the red leaves, “I didn’t expect it to look exactly like the one back home.” 

“They all look the same. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” 

“Have you finished?” He looked back at you.

You smile at him, “Yes. I feel much better now.” 

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead before turning around to walk back. He stopped when he noticed you weren’t by his side. 

“What is it?” 

“After your coronation. Do you think we could come back?” 

“What for?” 

“Well ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to get married here in the godswoods. And I know we already had our wedding. But-” You looked down at your hands before looking back up at him. “I’d really love to get married to the man I have grown to admire here.” 

Aemond walked back over to you, “If that is what my Queen wants, then I shall give it to her.” 

All you could do was smile at him. Yes your relationship was not ideal, this was not how you had expected it. Especially with him ignoring you, but now, now that you both promised. You both came to an understanding you felt like you could really build something with him. Clearly there was attraction, but you could be more than that. And his openness towards it was all you needed. 

Later in the day at dinner you had felt nauseous and excused yourself to your room. Aemond was going to go with you but you told him to enjoy himself and to keep talking if he wanted to. And he did. He found the environment less hostile as the one back at Kings Landing. Time had passed and without wanting to disturb your sleep, Aemond slept in a separate room. The night had continued yet Aemond could not stop tossing in his sleep. 

He was stuck, as if someone was holding him back. He watched as Daemon pulled you by your hair. You hold your swollen belly to protect your child, your face red and bloody. 

“Nephew, you started this war but I will end it. A wife for a wife.” Daemon pressed the dagger against your cheek, nicking it. 

“Aemond.” Your cries out before all he could hear were your screams. 

Daemon moved the dagger to your eyes, gouging out one after the other. Your tears mixed with the blood that ran down your eyes. Your screams had continued until they had felt real. 

Aemond jolted awake and yet he still heard your screams. His mind scattering, he ran out of the room to find yours. He flung open the door, your screams got louder. He was met with the sight of you, sitting up in bed. Your hands covering your eyes as if you had felt the pain. The pain he had dreamt of. He ran to you and touched your arm. But you had begun to hit him, trying to push him away. 

“Y/n. It’s me. It’s just me.” He waited until you calmed down to see it was really him. He watched as your tears ran down your face. The tears were overflowing, you let out a sob and whispered you were sorry. He shook his head and told you it was fine. 

He had pulled you into him. He had never hugged you so tightly before, he didn’t even know you were capable of that much strength. 

“I had a dream. Your uncle he-” 

“I know. I saw it. You don’t have to say it.” 

Your sobs hadn’t stopped. You both stayed there for more than an hour. Aemond had set you back, and hugged you tightly in hopes to calm you down. It was working, but it did nothing to calm him down. It was all he could think of. Your screams, it made his entire body ache. He was stuck, he felt helpless.

But it was true, he had started this war. He was the cause, he didn’t deserve happiness and his uncle knew it. Just when he found it, just when he found someone who understood him. Daemon would take her from him. He knew if he didn’t find Daemon this would eventually be their fate. It would be your fate. And it killed him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you died. Not after all this. He knew this would not end not while Daemon was still alive. 

[readerstories]

In Rain and Mud - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 3/4

God damn this is a long one, these men have me in a strangle hold. (Part 1) (Part 2) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence,porn with plot, biting, blood, smut, anal fingering, oral, anal

Wordcount: 7209

Summary: Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town. So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

Getting out of the shower, you feel a lot fresher and better not smelling like blood and guts. It took several rounds of shampoo and soap to get it all out, but now you are clean. A little sore, but clean.

As you step out of the shower you realize the scent of blood is still lingering in the air, faint but noticeable enough to make you sniff the warm and humid air.

Grabbing a towel to put around your shoulders, your nose leads you to your laundry hamper, Logan’s and Wade’s suits next to it with two black damp towels sitting on top of your laundry. Logan’s suit is folded, Wade’s is crumpled on the floor. Picking up one towel, you sniff it. It smells of tobacco, leather, earth, and blood. Blood of multiple people.

Interesting.

Dropping one towel, you pick up the other. The blood is very much there too, but the rest of the smell is like sticking your nose in a bag of gummy worms. Sweet and artificial. 

You assume this is Wade, and the first was Logan.

Deciding you should probably stop smelling dirty laundry, you dry off, combing your hair into a somewhat controlled mess after you fluff it up with your towel drying, before wrapping the towel around your waist. They have already seen you nude, but it’s the principal of it. That was right after a fight, this is too long after it to be casual or in the moment.

Stepping out of your bathroom, you find Logan sitting on the couch, Wade wandering around the room poking and prodding at your stuff.

“Finally!” Wade exclaims, cutting off a sentence that you barely catch the end of, something about cats and dogs? “Thought you were going to be there forever and we would have to leave without seeing that pretty face and body again.” Wade strides over to you in what can almost be described as a bounce, grabbing a clean pair of green sweats and a black t-shirt he had apparently raided your dresser for. 

“Boo for the towel sweetcheeks. You couldn’t even leave a few water droplets for us to watch running down that hot and hairy bod, and to fantasize about later?” He grabs your shoulder, leaning in to sniff loudly right next to your ear before pulling back.

“You smell like wet dog.” He grins and you growl at him, your vocal chords changing enough that it comes out more wolf than human.

“Just get in the fucking shower Wade.” You have half a mind to just throw him outside and make him shower with rainwater running off from your roof, but he lets go of your shoulder.

“Yes captain, yes sir.” He gives you a mock salute, topped with a wink just before the door slams shut behind him. You roll your eyes at him, looking at Logan to see if he agrees with you that Wade is the most unserious man you have ever met. 

You notice the beer bottle in Logan’s hand and an empty bottle of whiskey (you assume and hope from last night) on the floor just after making brief eye contact with him. You glance at the clock. 

9 am. 

You look back at him, he stops with the beer bottle half way up to his mouth, tilting his head and raising a brow.

You shrug after a few seconds. None of your business.

“Just leave some for me.” Is all you say as you head to your bedroom, grabbing the clothes you stripped off before the fight. Smart thing would have been to pick them up earlier and get them with the rest of your laundry, but for now you toss them into a corner of your room, grabbing a clean white t-shirt, and new (plain, but practical, thank you very much) boxers, reusing your grey sweatpants, deeming them clean enough. You forego socks, padding back out into the living room on bare feet.

Logan has left the couch, beer set aside as he kneels in front of your fireplace, building up with logs to start a new fire with the few smoldering embers from last night's fire. You can hear Wade singing something in the bathroom, it sounds like a Taylor Swift song, you can’t place it, but you can hear how out of tune it is.

You don’t say anything to Logan, leaning your hip against your couch and watching him as he works, tuning out Wade as good as you can with enhanced hearing. 

You kind of wish you had given Logan a t-shirt instead of a hoodie, so you could have maybe, if the shirt was tight enough, watch his back muscles move. 

With practiced ease Logan gets good results just a few moments later, flames licking greedily up the newspaper and logs, casting a warm glow. He gets up with the smallest of grunts, which you wouldn’t have heard if you had normal hearing.

He doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest as he turns around and finds you looking at him, his expression neutral as it can be with those frown lines. You briefly wonder what other abilities he has other the the knuckle knives and healing that left his hands looking untouched. 

Your stomach chooses that moment to gurgle with hunger. A raised brow from him in humor at your uncontrolled stomach.

“You want a sandwich?” You don’t know why you ask him, to be polite you assume, as unusual that is for you in this whole weird situation.

“No.” His answer is to the point. “No thank you.” He adds as an afterthought, seemingly just as unused to being polite as you are. You shrug in acceptance, walking to your fridge as he goes back to the couch, grabbing a book from a shelf on the way.

He starts reading as you make your sandwich, the silence of the room broken only by the crackling of the fire and Wade’s still very off key singing, now it’s a song you definitely don’t recognize, something about underwear?

Whatever.

You finish making your sandwiches, taking your plate over to the couch, you too grabbing a book on your way to read. Logan glances at you as you sit down, there’s two armchairs you could have sat in, but you want your comfy corner on the sofa, so he will just have to share.

Besides, it makes it easier to discreetly smell him while you eat. He smells of tobacco and leather, but also a little bit like your conditioner and mild laundry detergent. He must have showered last night, stealing your products. You wonder if he styles his hair into those little tufts he has (which kind of look like cat ears), or if it falls like that ‘naturally.’

You know Wade is also using your products right this second, though at least he won’t need your shampoo and conditioner. 

Speak of the devil, the door to the bathroom slams open, Wade stepping out in a cloud of steam, making you both look up at him.

“Ahhhh, I feel like heaven! You gotta tell me where you got that watermelon scrub, makes me feel smooth like a baby all over.” You stare at Wade, because he’s wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten as a joke gift from a friend, (that you thought you had burned years ago), that says “I <3 big titted men” in bold white letters.

“Where the fuck did you find that?” It’s a little tight on him, becoming tighter as he flexes jokingly, almost posing for you to take him in fully. Which you do to be fair, he’s a lot fitter than you thought after that first glance when he was just wearing his pants yesterday.

“Top left drawer pookie. You’re due for a closet cleanout b-t-dubs. But also a closet upgrade, cause there was like, no fun underwear in there, not even some with those little comic red hearts on them.” He plops down between you and Logan, making Logan grunt and you growl at him as he steals half of one sandwich.

“You guys having a book club over here, or have I missed some important plot?” You eye him in annoyance, the stolen part of your sandwich disappearing quickly into his mouth. He tries to grab the other half, but you slap his hand away, which he pulls back quickly and holds with an over-dramatic pout.

“Not much else to do, other than watch whatever dvd’s I have, which I’ve already seen all off.”

“Boooorrrinnnggg. The books, not the dvd’s, I’m sure you got some real juicy ones in there.”

“Knock yourself out.” You gesture to the cabinet below your tv, and he quickly gets up, knocking his legs into yours. He tries another swipe of your sandwich, all he gets is another slap to his hand, though you are tempted to slap his thigh since it was within reach, but you restrain yourself. 

He kneels in front of your dvds, but before he can open his mouth to say more shit, you decide to ask a question that has been on your mind since the fight (or slaughter you suppose) in front of your cabin.

“Who were those people? In the tactical gear.” 

“Bad guys!” Wade comments, while reading the back of a dvd. “It was a job, we attacked a facility of theirs not far from here.” You frown.

“There isn’t supposed to be anything around here.”

“Well there isn’t anymore!” Wade cheerfully replies as he opens a case, taking out the disc and inserting it into your dvd player.

“Genius over here blew it up, along with our ride out of there.” Logan helpfully supplies, voice gruff and clearly having had enough of Wade’s shit a long time ago before you even met them.

“Oh shush you Mr grumpy, at least it led to this sweet man and his sweet bod and his sweet cabin.” Wade pinches your cheek as he settles down, earning yet another slap to his hand, the want for you to strangle him starting to build in the back of your brain.

“That does mean that we technically owe you money though, since you took down a good part of their team. Brutally, but very beautifully I might add.” You snort, taking a last bite of your sandwich. You notice how Wade follows the motion with his eyes briefly before starting to fiddle with the remote to your tv.

“No thanks, I’m not that desperate right now.”

“Ohhhh, someone has a big dark secret??” Logan turns his head to watch you out of the corner of his eye, his ability to only pay attention to only the words that matter from Wade’s mouth a clearly much learned and needed ability.

“Not really, just doing some dirty work here and there when my part time butcher job wasn’t enough, not much more to it.” You shrug, glancing at the TV, noticing of all things Wade had chosen “The First Wives club” as the movie to watch.

“Awww, a little baby mercenary!” He goes to pinch your cheek again, you catch his wrist, tempted to break it, but you just throw it in his lap instead. Logan watches the exchange with a barely there upturn of his lips that you just manage to catch before his face is his usual neutral scowl.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Noted, baby is off limits, but sweetcheeks and handsome is not.” Wade grins and you roll your eyes.

“You fought something fierce out there.” Logan's voice is rough, cutting of whatever asinine thing Wad was about to say. You assume it’s meant as a compliment from Logan, taking it as such, though you shrug.

“I’m a mutant, it’s not the first time I had to defend something that’s mine, or use my powers for something grisly.” Your tone is light, it’s just a fact of life really.

“Awww, schnookums, you already think of us as yours!” Wade swoons, hips knocking into you and Logan, hands on his face and voice going into a higher pitch.

“The cabin you idiot.” You promptly ignore the little stutter your heart gives at the idea his words plants in your brain, and hope Logan is too deep in his second beer to notice or at least care. “Didn’t want it full of bullet holes.”

“Well, we were in front of it, which means we would also have been full of bullet holes, which means you do care.” Wade staples his fingers under his chin, blinking innocently up at you. Well, as innocent as a merc can blink covered in scars and bumps while you were told that he blew up a building the day before, before turning up on your porch smelling of blood. 

You look at him incredulously, book long forgotten in favor of this strange man. If nothing else, he keeps your attention easily.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You glance over Wade towards Logan. “Have you ever heard him shut the fuck up?”

“I keep talking unless my mouth is otherwise occupied handsome.” Wade says and winks, patting your thigh.

It’s far from the flirtiest thing that has spewed out of his mouth since you met him, but for some reason this time, it plants an idea in your head.

You look at Logan, who is rolling his eyes, but when you keep looking he squints and raises a brow. You glance at Wade, who’s still talking, though you have tuned his words out.

There’s a question in the tilt of your head and mirrored raised brow. Have you ever…?

Logan frowns as he realizes your silent question, shaking his head.

Turning your head the other way and glancing back at Wade, there’s a new question. Would you…?

Logan licking his lips, tongue barely peeking out is a clear answer.

“Hey, stop talking with your eyebrows, it’s not fair when I don’t have any!” You tune back into Wade, who clearly had realized that you weren’t listening to him, though you don’t think he has quite realized what silent questions and answers were happening right in front of him. He looks between you and Logan, the latter just staring at you.

You take that as an invitation to start whatever the hell this is going to be. You grab the collar of that god ugly t-shirt, pulling Wade closer to you.

“Hey, hey, be careful with the merchandise.”

“Wade.” Logan speaks from behind him.

“Was it the eyebrow comment? Really? That was what pushed you over the edge? To be fair to me they are bushy and match the whole wo-”

“Wade.” Logan growls his name out, making Wade whip his neck at an impressive speed, finding him closer than he was seconds ago. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You can already see the protest forming in Wade’s throat, so you turn his head towards you with a gentle hand on his jaw, stopping those words with a brief kiss to his scarred lips.

They are bumpier than anyone else you have kissed before, but you certainly don’t mind.

You only let the kiss last for a few seconds, pulling back just enough to gauge Wade’s reaction. 

His eyes are closed, but he opens them and blinks as more than a few seconds pass since the end of the kiss.

“If that’s all I’m gonna get, I am going to say you are really bad at edging.” You snort. So at least the flirting wasn’t all for show. Using your hold in his shirt, you pull him forwards, somehow maneuvering you both so you are leaning your back against the arm rest, Wade straddling your lap.

“If this is not your wet dream, it’s certainly one of mine.” You have one hand fisted in his t-shirt still, the other settles on his hip. His hands wander all over you. “You run warm. Is it the whole wolf thing? You are hot in more ways than one, though if you are just gonna hold me here and do nothing, I am going to call you a lot worse words than a god damn tease- Oh my god.” You grin up at Wade as Logan presses himself against his back, one hand on Wade’s unoccupied hip, the other covering your hand in his hip.

“Okay, this is definitely my wet dream now.” Wade laughs, his eyes wide, clearly not believing what is happening just yet. To convince him that this is real and not a dream, you tug on his shirt again to pull him into yet another kiss.

This one is longer, messier, deeper. You discover the inside of Wade’s mouth is soft, one place his scars haven't touched.

Your tongue explores the skin there as you wonder how it would feel around your dick. His hands are constantly moving, gliding through your hair, over your chest, down your stomach, up over your side. Not staying still for a second, but not even attempting to touch you where you want him to most.

And he had called you a tease.

Wade lets you do as you please, though he tries to give as good as he gets, but he’s somewhat distracted with the weight of Logan pressing into him, but also making him grind down on you with your combined hands on his hips. 

Your own cock grows hard in your sweatpants, making your hips twitch up towards Wade, well as much as you can with two men pretty much in your lap, one noticeably heavier than the other.

Wade whines, noise escaping between kisses, making a pleased rumble work its way up from your chest without really meaning to. Logan groans behind him, letting go of Wade’s hip to slip his hand into your hair, getting a good grip and tugging. You groan, it makes you break the kiss with Wade.

“What the hell Logan, can’t you see- Oh!” Logan leans forward even more, effectively squeezing Wade between the two of you as he pulls you into a kiss. He is softer than Wade, but hairier, his beard rubbing against you deliciously. His tongue dips into your mouth, just briefly between a lot lighter kisses.

Wade’s face is pressed against your shoulder, and he takes the opportunity to bite down on your clothed shoulder. You gasp with pain and pleasure into Logan’s mouth, who takes the opportunity to press his tongue in deeper, which you take greedily.

You break the kiss, but only so you can retaliate against Wade, biting him with a lot sharper teeth, sharp enough that you rip through fabric and pierce skin, tasting that familiar copper tang on your tongue. Logan still has his grip on your hair, though it is lighter now.

“Jesus fuck I swear on myself like Marvel Jesus, I liked that shirt!” You hear Logan snort, making you look up at him

“Too bad.” You hum, letting your hands transform just enough that you have claws, giving you an easy way to slit the t-shirt into pieces, keeping eye contact with Logan as you do so. Your claws leave light red marks in your wake, not much worse than someone with long nails scratching, but they are gone in seconds, just as you realize the bite on his shoulder is already gone as well. 

So he has super healing too, info you file away for later to maybe test out some more. Perk, you can go hard. Con, no marks to look at and adore later.

“If the two of you plan on fucking each other through me I am so down, but I must point out my mouth is horribly unoccupied at the moment.” He’s right, which you can’t have, so you push at Logan’s thigh, making him back off. Logan does so, but doesn’t go far, only enough so you can swing your legs over the side of the couch, plating them on the floor as you manhandle Wade down to kneel between them. 

Your cock is aching in your sweatpants, pre-come making a little wet spot on the grey fabric, which Wade hones in on. His hands are on your thighs, all of him leaning forward, but pausing as black clad thighs sit down next to you, an arm thrown over the back of the couch, hand brushing against your shoulder.

“Your choice with how you wanna occupy that pretty little mouth of yours Wade.” You press your thumb to his bottom lip, he opens his mouth so suck on your thumb for a few seconds, eyes darting between your own and Logan’s.

“This mouth is not pretty or little, it’s huge and filthy, don’t either of you forget it.” Thumb out of his mouth, he dips down and forward to mouth at your cock through the soft material of your pants.

“Wolvie over there can wait, he has already gotten to almost sorta fuck me in a Honda Oddesy.” You look at Logan, who grimaces.

“It was a fight.”

“The most homoerotic thing I’ve ever been a part of that wasn't just straight bone on bone.”

“I stabbed you.” Interesting.

“Not mutually exclusive honey badger.”

“Multiple times.” Very interesting.

“Still-” Rolling your eyes, you quickly end what is turning out to be unnecessary bickering by pressing Wade’s face down into your crotch with a heavy hand on the back of his head.

“Okay yeah, message received!” His words are muffled against your dick, but his thumbs up is clear. And it feels good, which is all you care about for the moment. Speaking of, you look to the side, catching Logan staring. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly let him, breathing in the scent of the two of them around you.

All you can smell is sex, arousal, and excitement, what is coming stronger off whom is impossible to decipher.

Wade’s hands on your thighs move up to your waistband as his mouth keeps dancing over your still clothed cock, sucking it through the by now soaking material. You groan and moan, each noise swallowed greedily by Logan.

Wade fingers curl, starting to pull your sweats down, he momentarily stops as the fabric bunches up because he can’t move it further, but you are quick to lift up your hips just enough so he can pull it the rest of the way off. Somehow you manage to not break your kiss with Logan, which means he feels the pleased rumble you let out against his lips as Wade’s hand circles your cock.

“Not gonna lie, your cock is great, perfect size honestly, but I was expecting the carpet to match the drapes so to speak.” You and Logan both break the kiss, looking down at Wade, who’s slowly moving his hand up and down your cock, making it hard to dechiper what the fuck he means.

“Wade, what the fuck are you on about?” Logan grumbles out, a hand falling down on your thigh, squeezing without seeming to be conscious of the action. Wade looks at him, raising one hand up towards Logan.

“One: saw his full form." Middle finger up. "2: his partial transforming of his hands." Pointer finger up. "3: Why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to transform just this?” Ring finger comes up as he squeezes your cock, making your hips twitch up and cock leak pre-come.

“Oh for fucks sake you moron.” Logan scowls at him, hand squeezing your thigh again as Wade strokes over your cock, slowly. Something about the bickering like this is oddly familiar, but also very hot.

“Don’t bully me, I’ll cum.” Wade jokes right back at Logan’s words. You pluck his hand off your cock, even as much as you don’t want to.  “Hey, hey, I am not complaining enough for you to do that!” He tries to get his hands back on you, but you hold his wrists so he can’t move as you concentrate.

The transformation isn’t as smooth and effortless as your other ones, needing some concentration and muscles flexed in effort. Slowly your cock transforms, growing longer, thicker, tapered with a bulge towards the bottom, just above your balls.

Wade wolf whistles, Logan stares in stunned silence.

“Ohhhh, who made you realize you could do this?

“If you think you’re the first person that asked this question I’ve met Wade, sorry to disappoint.” 

“Oh no no no, no disappointment here, just utter delight that whoever they were helped you on your way to realize your full freak potential.” You snort letting go of his hands, which immediately goes to your cock. You throw your head back, your own hands finding their spot on the back of his head, not pushing, but clearly sending a message of where you want this to go eventually. 

Logan’s hand on your thigh squeezes down again, and you hear and feel him shift on the couch, leaning forward so he can smell over your throat.

“You smell like a fucking three course meal, and fucking look like it too.” He growls against your skin, and you feel sharp canines brushing against your pulse. Your dick pulses, leaking more pre-come, which is suddenly cleaned away by Wade’s warm tongue. You moan, one hand moving from Wade’s head to Logan’s, pressing him against your neck as you tilt your head.

He takes the invitation, pressing sharp teeth into your throat and biting down as Wade starts to sink his mouth down around your cock. Logan bite is not hard enough to draw blood, but you can tell he wants to with the way he keeps biting over the same spot over and over again, skin healing rapidly beneath his teeth.

You lick your lips, trying to find your words, but it’s hard with Wade’s mouth on your cock, and Logan’s mouth on your neck and his hands on your thigh and in your hair.

But you manage to find them, by the grace of whatever deity you believe in.

“Logan, I was shot today, I think I can manage your teeth.” You growl out, which Logan answers with a growl of his own. You feel Wade moan around your cock, his tongue working over your shaft as his mouth slides up and down your cock, as Logan finally bites down hard enough to draw blood. 

It stings, but it feels so goddamn good, especially as he doesn’t let up, not giving your sking a chance to heal, making the blood run down the side of your neck. 

Without thinking your hips chant up, chasing that pleasure you can feel cursing through your veins. Wade choking on your cock is expected, as he does you feel your cock twitch, even as he pulls off you to catch his breath. His hands don't leave you though.

“Fuck, give a guy some warning.”

“Wade, less talking.” Logan has only let go of your neck to speak in a low voice that is all grumble and no finesse.

“Yeah yeah, just a quick question, does your healing work on refractory periods?” 

“Yes.” You and Logan answer in unison, staring at each other for a few seconds before your focus is back on Wade, a wide smile taking up most of his face.

“Oh I fucking love my life, and fanfiction. I am going to make you come in my mouth first, then I am going to ride this freaky dick into the sunset. Or sunrise, cause I can go alllll night.” You roll your eyes. But, you like the sound of that plan, arousal stirring in your guts at his words. You need things to move along.

“I got lube in the bedroom, bottom drawer on the right nightstand.” 

“Damn, the one place I didn’t have time to snoop. Come on peanut, go get it, and then help me open up for this massive thing.” You expect some sort of protest from Logan, but he gets up, only pausing to steal a kiss and whisper in your ear. 

“I want to watch him ride you, to both of you break.” His dick is temptingly close to your face as he gets up, just a little lean forward and down, but you don’t move an inch, mouth dry and speech having left your for a few seconds as you watch him the whole walk to your bedroom, that fantastic ass on display even in black sweatpants.

“Deadpool fucking Wade, that man.” You look down at him. “What, I am Marvel Jesus, only fitting I take my own name in vain.” God he is on some nonsense, you mind less now though he kneels in front of you, shirtless, hard as a rock in his pants, a mix of pre-come and spit shining on his lips. 

Once more you push your thumb into his mouth, though this time the rest of your fingers rest under his chin, giving you a grip to guide him towards your cock.

“You talk too much.” He doesn’t protest at all, taking your cock into his mouth so easily and willingly, sucking on the tip before sinking down further, hands covering what his mouth and tongue can’t or don’t.

You hear Logan come back just a few short moments later, as he kneels behind Wade, who you feel wiggle as good as he can while keeping his mouth’s rhythm on your cock. The uncapping of the lube bottle makes you open your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had closed them.

Logan is fully nude now, Wade matching seconds later as his pants are pulled off by Logan. You tug your own shirt off, throwing it to the side, not caring where it lands.

You watch as Logan sinks the tip of one finger inside Wade. Wade reaches back, pushing Logan’s hand against him, making him sink deeper.

“More.” It’s barely audible around your cock, but it gets the message across, making Logan push his finger all the way to the knuckle. Wade moans around your cock at the feeling, which in turn makes you moan as pleasure shoots up your spine.

Logan pulls his finger out of Wade, but before he can protest, there’s two thick digits shoved inside of him. Wade’s hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise, but you know with your healing they will never appear, which is a shame, because you think to have Wade’s handprints on you would be hot.

Two fingers soon turn into three, and it takes some damn self control on your part to not come in Wade’s mouth as he groans around you because of the added stretch. 

He takes his mouth off your cock, licking over your shaft and balls before spitting in his hand, looking over his shoulder at Logan.

“I want you to fuck me first, spread me open for him.” Logan groans as Wade looks up at you, hand pumping fast over your cock. “And you are going to come in my mouth, then I’m riding you even if the fucking couch breaks and the stuffing is spilling out.”  You voice your agreement with this arrangement by leaning down and pulling him into a quick and messy kiss. 

“You better hurry up, or else I’m just going to spill all over your hand.” Your voice is deep, more grumble than words, but Wade takes those words to heart, mouth sinking down and around your cock once more.

Behind him, Logan sinks into him, slowly filling him up. You can tell he’s sunk to the hilt when Wade stops, a shuddering breath coming out of his nose.

The pause isn’t long, hands and mouth on your cock working hard on you to make you spill on his tongue. One hand goes down to fondle your balls, for a moment dipping lower, teasing, before going back up.

Logan starts slow, but Wade isn’t having it, reaching back like earlier, pawing at his ass, clearly wanting more. 

Which Logan gladly gives, the wet slaps of him fucking into Wade filling the room alongside the noises of Wade sucking your cock like a champion. 

One of your hands is gripping the couch so hard it’s a miracle the fabric hasn’t ripped, the other is pressing down on Wade’s head. 

Not that it’s needed, he’s sucking on you like a man starved, or a man on a mission. A mission to taste you, to make you cum before he does.

Which is nearly thwarted as Logan gets his hand on Wade’s cock, if the full body shudder is anything to go by.

But, by some miracle, you come first, exploding over Wade's tongue with just a shout of his name as warning. He almost chokes, but drinks you down, making sure to get every drop of you. He lets your cock fall out of his mouth to lick up what has spilled from his mouth, almost teasing if it wasn’t for how desperate his movements are. 

Your cock stays hard, through just minimal effort from you, though you hardly pay it any mind with how Wade moans against your warm skin.

Logan is giving him as good as Wade gave you. Wade's mouth dance over your thighs before biting down as he cums, spilling come over Logan’s hand, and blood over his teeth and your thigh.

Logan is not far behind. Three pumps is all it takes for him to spill inside Wade, and you swear you see his claws peeking out from between his knuckles. Seconds later they are gone, Logan panting hard against Wade before pulling out. He’s still hard, which makes your mouth water and an idea forms in your head.

Before you can act on it though, you find yourself being manhandled onto your back, seconds later Wade is straddling you, hips spread wide. He grabs your cock, guiding it in, slowly starting to sink down. His cock is still hard or perhaps hard again, you don’t know or care to differentiate the two. You go grab it, but he bats your hand away. 

All it does is shift your attention to Logan, who is still kneeling on the floor, cock hard between his legs as he watches the two of you with rapt attention. 

The idea from earlier springs forth in your minds. You need your mouth on that cock. 

Right now.

You make what can only be described as a grabby motion at him, too focused on not coming again already, you cock inside Wade’s warm and wet hole making it difficult to be able to form proper words.

It does get the message across though, as soon enough you have Logan straddling your chest, your hands grabbing his ass as you guide his hips towards your face. He chuckles, which goes straight to your dick which makes it twitch inside Wade, who in turn moans.

He rests his tip on your lips, and you open your mouth, ready to feel the weight and taste of him on your tongue and in your mouth.

You suspect he was going to try to keep back, to deny himself and you just for a few moments longer, but it’s squashed as Wade also squeezes Logan’s ass, laughing at the grumble it gets him. 

“Come on, you know you want to, it's rude to keep a guy hanging.” For once you are glad Wade is able to quickly find his words, because yours is lost somewhere in the back of your throat where you wish for Logan’s cock to be.

He pushes his cock into your mouth, and you groan at the just perfect feeling of him on your tongue. You also shift your feet so you can meet Wade’s bounces, earning you a breathless laughter.

God, they feel so fucking good. Wade is bouncing on your cock like he was made for it, Logan fucking into your mouth slowly, clearly not wanting to choke you. 

But you want him to.

Not that you really can, having almost no gag reflex.

Which Logan seems to realize as you take him with no effort over and over and over again, your mouth and throat open for him.

He speeds up, abandoning his slow pace, matching Wade’s instead.

You start to rumble, deeper than either of them have heard from you before, making them stop in their tracks. 

"Fucking hell, you're like a god damn vibrator!" Wade laughs, an appreciative sigh coming out his mouth as he lazily grinds himself down on your cock. Logan lets out a low fuck, digging one hand into your hair, the other into the back of the couch, and you definitely see a quick glint of the tips of his claws again.

You’re not having this stopping, pulling at Logan, transformed claws digging into his ass as you encourage him to keep fucking into your drooling mouth, and pump your hips up into Wade. They groan in sync, starting to move again, and you feel your second orgasm rolling up on you.

All it takes is one tug off your hair from Logan and a squeeze from Wade’s hole to your to spill over the edge. 

The continued vibrations in your throat as you growl while cumming send Logan over the edge, spilling all over your tongue, making you swallow it all down greedily. Wade is just a second behind, the feeling of you spilling into him being enough, making him sit down fully on your cock, milking you for every last drop as he spills over Logan’s back and ass, some of it dripping down onto your stomach.

It takes a while for you to come down, to get your senses back enough to let go of Logan’s ass, letting him pull out of your mouth. You both gasp for air, seconds later he is down and on his back on the floor, catching his breath. Wade is in a similar state pulling off you, out of breath, but he plops down on top of you instead. 

You feel him leak down on your thighs, and there’s Logan’s cum on your chin where some escaped your mouth , and given a 15 minute rest, you could go again.

You don’t push for it though.

A few minutes go by, and you realize it’s the longest you’ve gone without hearing a word from Wade without anyone else talking. You lift your head, looking where he has his head on your chest. You raise two fingers against his neck, but it’s batted away, albeit weakly.

“Five more minutes.” He sounds half asleep, which he probably actually is.

“Were you going to check for a pulse?” Logan says from the floor, humor evident in his voice.

“Haven’t heard silence in so long, needed to check if everything is alright.”

“You are so mean to me.” Wade’s eyes are closed and his voice is flat, but you can feel the smile stretching his lips against your warm skin. “Mind blowing sex will do that to a man, even one as strong as me. You are both invited to fuck me unconscious again.”

“Aaannndd it’s gone.” You roll your eyes as it seems Wade is slowly rebooting, at least his mouth is, the rest of his body is limp and heavy on top of your own. “Come on, up you go.” You push at his shoulder, and he whines, actually whines, which shouldn’t go to your dick, but it does.

You ignore it with a sigh, maneuvering him enough that you can stand up on your own, leaving him on the couch, before leaning down to throw him over your shoulder like a rag doll.

“Hot.” He mumbles and you snort, turning towards Logan who is now at least sitting up on the floor. His hair is a mess, tufts long gone, disheveled locks only being pushed into somewhat of an order as he drags a hand through his hair.

“I would offer to carry you too, but I know my limits.” Logan snorts, reaching a hand out, which you take, helping him up from the floor. “I suggest we all cuddle up in bed, have a nap, then figure out something to eat.” Logan reaches for the remote, turning your TV off.

“Or we could go round three. Just give me an hour. Or two. You guys fucked me up real good.” You both roll your eyes at Wade’s words, heading to the bedroom. Logan grabs three water bottles on the way, closing the door behind you as you put Wade down on your bed. You grab your disregarded t-shirt from earlier to wipe Wade down, using a little bit of spit to loosen up the dried blood on his shoulder. He lets you without much of any noise, you would think he was already asleep if it wasn’t for the fact that barely open eyes watch you as you do so.

Logan gives Wade a water bottle, cap already off, offering you an unopened one.

“No princess treatment for me?” You jokingly ask, finished with cleaning Wade off for now, still holding onto the shirt you used to clean him with.

“You can still walk.” You chuckle before chugging half of the water bottle in one go.

“Smug fucks.” Wade mumbles, watching your throat as you chug.

“Here, let me.” Logan grabs the t-shirt from your hand, wiping away Wade’s cum from your stomach, your blood from your neck, and his and yours mixed release from your thighs. “All clean.” He spots the little spot on your chin. “Except riiiighhtt…” He licks his come away. “There.” Wade groans from the bed, making the both of you look at him,

“Still fucking hot. Scratch what I said earlier, 30 minutes and I will be rearing to go, you too hot for anyones good motherfuckers."

“Oh shut the fuck up Wade.” You say in unison. You put your water bottles to the side, Logan throwing your now very stained t-shirt into a corner as you both get on the bed with Wade. You curl up behind him, Logan against his front as he pulls the duvet up over the three of you.

Sleepy and comfy silence fills the room, only broken by a couple of yawns.

It lasts for about a minute.

“Chat, does this make me a furry?” 

“Don’t make me fucking gut you Wade.” You growl, letting your nails just grow the tiniest amount so they poke into the flesh of his stomach from where you have your arm thrown over his waist.

“Ohhh, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“God, you are so fucking strange.”

“Say you, you nasty dog.” Wade pushes his ass back against your crotch, where your cock is still sensitive, though transformed back into your normal form. You and Logan growl in unison, stilling any movement Wade tries with solid hands on him.

“Shut the fuck up, and go to sleep Wade.” Logan mutters against his forehead.

“Alright, alright Wolfie and Wolvie, but you both run hot, so if I wake up in the middle of the night because I died of overheating, it’s your fault.” You scoff, nose buried against the back of his neck, the texture and sweet smell of him by now familiar, lulling you into sleep. 

It also helps that he smells of you and Logan.

[trashmouth-richie]

Alright, babe. Let's do Angsty, and your words are: crunch and parking lot

xo -Amanda

@curiositydooropened you asked for angst and bby i’m delivering hot and ready in 30 minutes or less, like surfer boys pizza or a real horny boyfriend. 🍆💦

18+ HEAVY ANGST, upside down themes, s1 canon events with reader thrown into the mix. you’re dating eddie! yay!

<650 words

send me a prompt! from this post :)

A strong western wind bristled the leaves.

Wrestling colors of burnt persimmon and chestnut hues around in a whimsical swirl of a colorful tornado. Some stuck to the inky wet of the grass from the early morning rain. Others found their way like Magellan to a faraway land (a nearby leaf pile) or maybe into the yard of a lucky kid able to rake enough of them up to earn a few dimes in the pockets of their Levi’s. 

It was chilly for the unusual Indian Summer Hawkins was experiencing this fall. As if winter broke through the endless seams of  the late humid summer, demanding to be felt, to be seen.

Could you do that? Be seen? 

You heard the screech of the ailing boy nights before. The squeal of tires from the police station. His mother—you presumed, frantically called his name into the town, like a lone wolf howling into the harvest moon hung sky. 

Yet, the boy remained missing. 

Would you be missed…like the Byers’ boy? Who would call for you? Would he?

Flyers went up, crunching beneath the metallic thump of a steel staple. Into telephone posts, poked through cork boards around the school with colorful tacs. Taped to pay phones and called across radio stations. 

Eddie had assured you that he had probably run away, typical for kids that age who didn’t get what they wanted. But you felt something. Heard things in the night while curled into his chest. It spoke to you. Begged you to look for It.. 

Barbara Holland went missing. Last seen at a party of Harrington’s that you heard him loudly strutting around the hallways about to impress the quiet, pretty freshman girl. 

Again, you told your boyfriend of your worries. Cried to him about the lack of sleep you’d been getting, the nightmarish creatures you’d seen when your eyes were closed. He pulled you into him, forefinger hooked under your jaw, and like a fish on a line, you succumbed to him. It was hard not to when somebody loved you the way Eddie did. 

Had it been days? You couldn’t be sure. 

Street lights flickered. They always did at Eddie’s— it was normal. But maybe you should have been more self-aware. Maybe you would have noticed It. 

Long spindly arms clawed at your coat as you ran, bony fingers hooked into the belt around your waist, pulling you back, further and further towards the opening at the base of a tree. 

You fought, clawed at dirt and muck and shit to escape its clutches. Badly bleeding, injured, breaths away from death— until you weren’t. Until you were somehow nestled beneath foliage— safe, hiding, alone. 

The treeline behind the trailer park was where you laid. Unable to make a sound, caked with dried blood, colored dark on your body, the sharp stink of infection and decay permeated the chilly air, and you knew it was from you. 

Would he know how much you loved him? How proud of him you were for sticking up for kids who needed it?

You’d miss his smile, his dimples, that giddy dorky laugh he couldn’t hide when you tickled his sides. The way butterflies swarmed in your stomach when he kissed you.

Would he miss you…cry for you?

You lie in wait watching the leaves scatter across the dirt parking lot. Body cold and broken, blood trickling to the earth. Time ticking down to what could possibly be your inevitable end. 

[dangerdazee]

descendants: rise of red james hook x morgie le fay one-shot, in which hook stays back to keep watch with morgie

i ship them so so so bad. also while ur here go check out the edit i did for them bc i couldn't help myself

"Morgie, honey, you keep look-out, okay? If you see Merlin coming, give a signal." Uliana says.

"Should I do a wolf howl? Or like a dog howl?? I can do different dogs!" Morgie shows great enthusiasm, but it comes off annoying and childlike and far too perky to Uliana.

James Hook, knowing this, leans over to whisper to Uliana.

"Do you think it's the best idea to leave him out here by himself?"

"Good point. You stay with him. Maleficent, Hades, with me. Let's move." Uli, Maleficent, and Hades trudge through the wet, slightly muddy grass towards the school.

Morgie turns around and starts climbing the tree that Hook was in a minute ago, and even though he just got down, Hook climbs up after him. The two boys sit side-by-side on a thick branch that seems sturdy enough to hold them both.

The drizzling rain adds to the ambiance of the night. There's something peaceful about it.

Even though their friends are currently sneaking into Merlin's office to steal a forbidden cookbook... out here in the tree, on a rainy night, with the soft lights of the school exterior barely illuminating their surroundings, it's nice. And they both definitely enjoy the company here as well.

"Did you really think I shouldn't be left out here on my own?"

"Yes, but not for the reason I let Uli think. It's dark and we aren't supposed to be here. I didn't want you to be left alone in case anything happened. Not to mention, it's rare that we can find time alone."

Morgie smiles.

Morgie knows he's viewed as the weakest link of the group. Evil still, yes, but he's not as dark and brooding and serious as the rest of them. The others, especially Uliana, tend to look down on him for it. They end up treating him like a kid sometimes.

Hook never does, though. Hook's always treated Morgie as an equal, no matter how non-villainous he acts sometimes. That was one of the first things that really drew Morgie to Hook. (After his hair.)

Hook is also a bit protective over Morgie, hence the hesitation to leaving him outside the school alone during this whole mission.

Even under the tree, the drizzling rain still gets them. Their hair grows damp and dark spots of water scatter their clothes.

The two move their hands towards the other's, like a magnet is pulling them. Morgie's hand ends up more on top of Hook's, but their fingers naturally weave together in an uncoordinated but perfectly comfortable manner.

Morgie is heavily focused on his job. Uliana told him to keep watch, and that he is. Hook looks over at the boy, his strong focus and the rainwater dripping slowly from his hair. A small smile grows on Hook's face as he watches the other, and Morgie looks over at him upon feeling the stare.

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you see Merlin anywhere?"

"No, I-"

"Wonderful."

Hook shifts his weight to the hand between them and leans on it, being careful not to fall as he brings his face to Morgie's. Ever since Hook and Morgie started... whatever this relationship they have is, they've realized how little private time alone they can find. Much less, opportunity to kiss. So when the opportunity is there, at least one of them is usually quick to jump at it, and this evening it was Hook.

Their relationship is complicated. They haven't labeled it; they've hardly talked about it. It simply is. To the average on-looker, they mostly just seem like good friends. Really good friends.

Maleficent and Hades have figured out that something is going on (then Hook fully spilled all about it to Maleficent, as friends might do.) Uliana hasn't. She kind of couldn't care less either way, though.

Morgie wants a label. He wants something more solid and serious, but he knows that just isn't the kind of person Hook is.

Morgie's willing to take what he can get. He'll compromise for Hook. Secret kisses, affectionate moments, a closeness slightly more than qualifies as friendship. It's hard sometimes, but Morgie says he'll do it for Hook. He just assumes that's what Hook wants, even if that's not what Morgie wants.

Hook doesn't love it, though, but he doesn't really know how else to navigate it. He's talked with Maleficent about it before, but even with the advice of his in-a-committed-relationship friend, Hook still feels clueless. Morgie hasn't said anything, so he just assumes it's up to him to make it real.

He only hopes his cluelessness won't drive Morgie away before he can figure things out.

Maybe more communication would do them some good, but villains aren't exactly known for their emotional maturity and communication skills. They're both starting to get a little tired of it, though. Morgie especially.

Rustling leaves interrupt the kiss, causing both boys to jump a bit and look around. Neither of them see anything.

"Must have been the rain or something." Morgie says.

The two look at each other and slowly smile, laughing lightly with that bit of embarrassment that comes from such an occurrence.

"I hope Merlin didn't get by just now. Uliana might kill us." Morgie says.

"No, no, something worse. Like a chocolate pie."

They laugh at the jab at Uliana's plan with this forbidden recipe. Morgie nods, agreeing.

As the laughter dies down, Morgie debates in his mind if he should ask what he wants to ask. It could go wonderfully, or it could go horribly, and he's really scared of that second possibility. But, they're alone and he has an opportunity. He figures, much like a kiss, this chance shouldn't be passed up.

"Let me take you out."

Hook's heart just about stops and he quickly turns to face Morgie.

He's been so nervous about not knowing how to do this. He never fully considered that maybe it didn't have to be him who progressed things. He could be the askee, not the asker. Funny enough, that only makes it slightly easier.

"What?"

"Let me take you out. Like, on a date."

"You want to go out together?"

Morgie nods with hopeful eyes. Every second of silence from Hook makes Morgie's anxiety over the situation grow stronger. He feels his hope diminishing.

"I mean, maybe not. Or, no- I want to! But if you don't want to, then just forget it. I mean, I do want to, but it's not a big deal. Unless you also want to, then it's a big deal. But if you don't, don't worry-"

"Okay."

"Okay? Okay to what?"

"Okay to the, uh... the date. Yeah. We can go out. I think that'd be nice."

"You do? Really?"

"Morgie, you're acting as if you don't already know that I like you. I just kissed you. I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed!"

"Yeah! Yeah, I know. I'm just... happy."

"Yeah. So am I."