#why he casually walks out of the woods half naked with that face

[shrumgi]

astarion: meet me in the forest for a quickie

astarion half naked between the trees in the forest:

#I don't want to beegee 3 post but this was so fucking funny I don't know why #why he casually walks out of the woods half naked with that face #bro killed me twice (one by sucking then by this). what a silly bitch #the only two people who haven't made advances towards me are wyll and shadowheart lmfao even though sh is almost maxed out #she was like 'hey let's drink wine together as friends :)' and I cried many tears #I haven't even brought gale to anything and bro just straight up "HEY I JUST MET U. AND THIS IS CRAZY' #sdgjhsdg please let's keep it on the gloves eating basis pls #laezel keeps telling me how i miss out by rejecting her. i keep rejecting her but she keeps going #YOU'RE MY EVIL BROTATO CHIP STOP THIS. I LOVE U IN A BROZONE WAY #you will get your le sexe when I replay as a lady drow pls calm down until then #shit is wild #nadine's blah blah

[hoesformatt]

“YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT”

chris smut, this was an old draft but i fixed it up and here we finally have the long awaited plug fic…

dom!plug!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: mentions of smoking and drinking, choking, heavy petting, making out, edging, orgasm denial, cowgirl, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

not proofread

It was getting late, I was getting lonely and bored so I decided to go grab my smoke bag to find my tin. I got all giddy when I found my tin, but then my smile disappeared when I felt there was no weight to the tin.

Please tell me there’s something in here, please tell me there’s something in here, I repeated in my head but to no surprise, there was nothing but the whiff of weed and my hopes and dreams.

I contemplated on what I was going to do on my Saturday, either sit here and puff on my nicotine til I got nic sick, or call my plug aka my late night therapist, which I did not want to do.

He is my last resort call because of our history, my plug was one of the scariest people I’ve ever met and I try not to ring him too much because I do not want to see him… but I do at the same time. He is fine as fuck, I can’t deny that shit but I am petrified by him even so I’ve never given him my address and I always meet him at his place.

I decided to face my fears and shot him a text

Are u up?

What do you need mama

He replied immediately and called me that pet name that gave me instant butterflies

I ran out, I need a new pack of woods

it’s about fucking time

My heart dropped to my ass

you buy so much shit and then dip, I like seeing you

Fuck, what do I say. I was lowkey feeling how he was flirting with me. My thoughts were interrupted by another text

Let me pull up on you

Hell the fuck no.

The usual place?

Nah

Lemme pull up, it’s late and shit

It’s no problem, the usual place is good i’ll be there in 10

Being left on delivered, I was tripping out at this point. I guess I’m thugging it out tonight… sober. I grabbed my juicy peach ice, geek bar from the cushion beside taking a puff. May the pulse be with you I guess, I was thinking in my head too much, trying to remember where I put my blinker.

Hearing a car driving past my driveway, I glanced at my front door and the window beside it trying to see who is. A car door shut close and then the door soon began to jiggle and open.

I frantically ran into the kitchen but when I turned around and looked in the living room I saw my plug walking into my home, holding a plastic white bag, bee-lining for my couch “FUCK CHRIS, What the fuck are you doing here, how the fuck do you know where I live?!” This is exactly why I’m terrified of him.

My heart felt like it was beating 1000 beats per second right now, and it was not going down. It’s like he was a serial killer out for my blood. Apart from the fact that Chris walked into my house as if he owned it, I’m half naked wearing the smallest Ethika set ever.

My eyes almost instantly scaled to crotch, clothed behind his grey sweatpants. “I followed you home before” Chris had two paper bags, pulling out a dark liquor and a bottle of tequila. I was trying to still catch my breath, attempting to register everything at once. “Last time you needed shit it was around this time, a rando was watching you, so I followed him to your house,” Chris said it so casually, popping open the Hennessy “You have shot glasses? and chasers?” He looked up at me for a response.

Finally, I calmed myself down after he told me someone was following me and I just pulled out the glasses and sodas from my fridge “Get yourself one too” He suggested.

He then got up taking the can of Pepsi and the glass from my hands to my living room table. I slowly followed after him, finding my place, far away from him. “C’mere baby, don’t be shy” Chris gestured for me to sit beside him and I didn’t move an inch.

Chris grabbed his waistline pulling out a gun from there, tossing it casually across the other side of him then looked back at me. “Now what?” He arose from his seat to come and sit next to me, sliding a shot to me. “It’s too late for me to drink” I came up with a petty excuse. Chris scoffed, downing both of the shots without making a face, straight Hennessy.

“Ok.” He raised out of the position he was in taking the white bag beside him opening it pulling out packs of woods. “How much are you gonna buy then, since you want me gone.” I snatched two packs the Loose Leaf, Watermelon Dream from the pile, almost salivating about the thought of the high I was going to get. “Let me get my wallet” I got up but Chris’ legs were in my way “‘Xcuse” When I walked past him my ass brushed his face which Chris touched.

I gazed down at him, completely infatuated by my juicy ass, unable to keep his hands to himself. I brushed it off since I was too happy to care. I collected my wallet pulling out my cash, I handed it to him, still standing up “I don’t want your money” He said flinging the money in my direction. Chris’ glacial blue eyes fucked me, and he found it hard to control himself. I noticed his cock grew hard in his sweatpants, and he bucked his hips upwards, enticing me. “You know what I want.”

Finally I gave in, straddling his lap and his hands immediately pulled me down to press upon his hardness. I waved my hips, making him moan as I took control.

Chris grasped my neck with aggression while stripping me of my tube top, lowering it. He latched his lips to my nipples, moving his hands down to my hips and helping me wave them. “Take your shorts off.”

Raising me, I removed my shorts in anticipation as he set free his large length that slapped against his stomach. He whipped out a condom from one of his pockets sliding it onto his length. When I got back on his lap, he had licked his two fingers, dipping them into me then back out to lick his fingers. “You must love me with the way you’re so wet for me” Chris smirked, aligning himself to my pulsing cunt. He pushed my hips down to settle onto his cock, I threw my head back to the feeling of him stretching me out.

With no patience Chris began to thrust upwards with a tight grip on my waist, making my tits jump. I cupped my hands over my mouth because I couldn’t show him how good he was making me feel, reaching points I didn’t know were there. Chris smacked my hand "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you” The sounds of his raspy voice and the wet noises faded together, I felt our wetness puddle under me. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Chris whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t believe that he was making me cum so quickly and he knew it, so he took his thumb and massaged my clit relentlessly trying to get the words out of me. “Tell me.” I shook my head no but my body was beginning to grow tired. Then he stopped. He stopped thrusting into me and I whined, “If I don’t make you fell good you should do it yourself right?” Chris didn’t care at all and I needed my release badly.

I took both of his wrist, putting them behind his head to ride my high. My erotic movements made Chris twitch inside me as he hit wall to wall.

It was so addicting that I wanted to feel him raw inside me and when I pulled his cock out of me, the condom was coated his sticky liquids. I yanked the rubber off his length and it slowly rolled up until it was off and I threw it elsewhere, jumping back on his dick.

Chris succumbed to my wetness, whimpering loudly as I wrapped around him. I bounced on his cock, hoping that my legs wouldn’t give up on me but Chris suddenly decided to take control again and ram into me. “I need to cum, I need to cum, please, please” I begged Chris to let me cum, reaching my climax. “Yes Chris, yes, yes—” Just as I was about to cum, Chris pulled out again and this time he threw me back on the couch.

“Please Chris, why— ” He had put back on his pants, packing up the rest of his shit.

“I don’t fuck ungrateful whores” He said casually, gripping my hair and kissing my cheek.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @zayyluvz @i8kth @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @livvy4realll @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

#hoesformatt #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #fan fiction #fan fic

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 37

Loki walked outside onto the back patio and chuckled when he found Claire in the hot tub, with a glass of wine.

‘I thought we were going for a walk today?’ He asked as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

‘Yeah, we are?’ Claire looked over at him with an eyebrow up.

‘So why are you drinking wine at half past ten in the morning?’ Loki smirked and stalked over towards her, to perch on the side of the tub.

‘All rules for drinking goes out the window when you’re on holiday. Plus, it will warm me up and get me going for our walk.’ She said as she handed the glass to him.

Loki chuckled and took a few sips before handing it back to her. He momentarily disappeared inside, but returned butt naked and with his own wine glass, plus a bottle. Claire laughed as he slipped into the tub next to her and topped up her glass.

‘See, I do have good ideas.’ Claire grinned.

‘Hmm, occasionally, I suppose.’ Loki teased.

Claire nudged his leg with her foot under the water, with his quick reflexes though he reached under with his free hand and grabbed her ankle. She let out a squeak as she slipped down the water a bit. He laughed and trapped her foot with his knees, then tickled her foot.

‘LOKI!’ She screeched out with laughter.

‘Will teach you to kick me.’ Loki growled playfully as he released her foot.

‘You think that was a kick?’ Claire laughed as she sat up straighter.

‘It hurt.’ Loki pouted.

Claire gave him a look, she knew that was a blatant lie.

‘Even if I kicked you as hard as I could, I doubt it would hurt you.’

Loki smirked with a shrug. ‘True. You’ve got me there.’

After finishing the bottle of wine, Loki and Claire dragged themselves out of the hot tub before they turned into prunes, they got dried off and dressed to go for their walk.

‘If we get lost, I’m blaming you.’ Claire said as they headed out through the woods, following one of the marked paths that should take them through the woods and out onto the hillside.

‘Even you should be able to follow these signs, darling.’ Loki teased her.

‘Hey!’ Claire laughed and nudged him with her elbow.

Loki chuckled as they held hands while they walked. It didn’t take them too long to get through the woods and out onto the hills.

‘This week has been amazing. It’s been so nice being just the two of us.’ Claire said as she squeezed Loki’s hand.

‘It has indeed… Hey, when does your lease on your flat end?’ Loki asked casually as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

‘End of June. I’ve got it on a six-monthly contract. Why?’

‘Well… I’ve been thinking, for a little while now… You’re almost always at mine, I know because of Bat, it makes sense being at mine instead of yours for the majority. Though being together constantly these last four days has just made me kind of yearn for it… what I’m trying to say, is…’ Loki paused a second and stopped walking, he turned to face Claire fully and picked up her other hand too, so he was holding both her hands.

‘Would you like to move in with me when your lease is up?’ He blurted out quickly, he wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about asking her. Then he realised it was because if she said no, he would be crushed. Though he didn’t want to rush her, either. If she wasn’t ready.

‘If you’re not ready, that’s no problem. It was just a suggestion. I know it might be a bit too soon for some. It’s absolutely fine if you don’t want to yet.’

‘Loki!’ Claire laughed and tugged her hands out of his, she reached up and held his face in her hands. ‘You’re rambling!’

‘Sorry…’ Loki said sheepishly. ‘I just don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. It’s fine either way.’

‘Loki… Shut up and let me answer, will you?’ Claire laughed again. ‘I would love nothing more than to move in… with Bat!’ She smirked.

Loki instantly felt relief flood through him, he laughed and tickled her sides in retaliation. ‘You best take that back.’ He growled at her.

‘Ok, ok. With Bat… and you.’ She grinned up at him.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, but smiled widely. ‘That’s better.’

Claire wrapped her arms up around his neck, she went up on her tiptoes as Loki dipped his head down so they could kiss.

‘Do you really think you can cope living with me twenty-four seven?’ Claire mumbled over his lips.

Loki grinned against her lips and slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. ‘It should be me asking you that, my love. Living with an insatiable vampire.’

‘Oh my, how ever will I cope?’ Claire giggled.

They continued on their walk, Claire was so excited thinking about the future with Loki. She couldn’t wait.

‘I’ll chip in with the mortgage and utilities of course.’ She said as they began walking up the first hill they came to.

‘What mortgage?’ Loki raised an eyebrow at her with a little smirk.

‘Huh? Do you rent that place?’

‘No. It was bought outright. A gift from dad when I started working at the school for him, Chris got his place bought too.’

‘Holy shit. I didn’t realise you owned it outright.’ Claire laughed.

‘I’m a very lucky man.’ Loki grinned. ‘Now I get to share it with my lovely woman.’

‘With your lucky woman, that’s for sure.’ Claire corrected him. ‘Though I’ll need to chip in with something, electric and oil or wifi.’

‘We can sort that out when you move in.’ Loki assured her. He had a feeling that she would’ve wanted to contribute financially, though he certainly didn’t expect her to. He wanted to give her a comfortable lifestyle, but she wasn’t the type to expect that, and he knew it. So, they’d come to an arrangement that they were both happy with.

‘Bat will be delighted to have two slaves at her beck and call twenty-four seven.’ Loki said.

‘If she lets me move in, since she is the head of the house, I’ll need her permission.’ Claire laughed.

‘I am sure she won’t have any issue with it.’

When Loki and Claire returned to the cabin after their long walk, that ended up taking a good chunk of the day, they were both hungry so Loki chucked a lasagne they’d bought into the oven while Claire picked out a film for them to watch.

They snuggled on the sofa together after eating to watch the movie. Of course, it involved heavy make-out sessions, so they had to rewind the film a bit to catch up on what they missed. Claire ended up lying on top of Loki while they watched the remainder of the film.

Loki just lazily played with her hair and stroked her back intermittently.

‘I wish we could freeze time to this place and time forever.’ Claire said quietly when the film ended.

‘Me too. Though we do have the rest of our lives together, this is only the beginning.’ Loki said fondly as she turned her head to face him and rested her chin on his chest. She smiled and nodded in agreement.

‘I still can’t believe it all. I love you so much.’ Claire shimmied further up his body to kiss him.

‘I love you so much too.’ Loki said, his heart was so full and happy.

-

When Loki and Claire got in the car and began heading home, their phones started pinging with incoming messages while they’d been out of signal.

‘Not as much as I had expected.’ Claire said after checking through her messages, nothing of importance really.

‘Can you check mine for me, darling? See if there’s anything urgent.’ Loki asked her.

Claire took his phone and had a look, she saw a message from Matt so opened that incase it was about Bat, and it was.

‘Ah…’ Claire cringed as she read the message.

‘What? What’s wrong?’ Loki asked, his tone slightly panicked.

‘Matt had an emergency, the first night we were away. So he had to sort out care for Bat. He said he tried the others, but they all weren’t answering… apart from one…’

Loki’s jaw slowly clenched, he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

‘Please tell me it’s not Chris that has her? Anyone but him.’

‘Sorry… We’ll need to go via your brother’s to pick her up.’ Claire cringed.

Loki ran a hand down his face as he sighed and put his foot a little further down on the accelerate pedal.

‘At least we know that Bat likes Chris and he seems to have a sweet spot for her. We know she will be absolutely fine.’ Claire assured him.

‘Hm.’ Loki grunted in response.

When they arrived at Chris’ place, Chris answered the door with Bat on his shoulder.

‘Bat!’ Loki said in delight at seeing her, he always missed her when he was away, even for a short time.

Bat jumped straight into Loki’s arms, though he frowned and glared at Chris. ‘What have you been feeding her? She’s put on weight!’

Chris looked a little sheepish. ‘Whatever she wanted… I wasn’t going to just ignore her while she was yowling at me for some of my food or giving me puppy dog eyes for treats.’

Claire stifled a laugh. ‘I’m sure she can’t have put on that much weight in five days.’

Loki raised an eyebrow at her and handed Bat over. Claire took her into her arms and her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Oh… Maybe she has had a few too many treats.’ She bit her lip and sniggered.

‘You’ve overfed my cat!’ Loki growled at Chris.

Chris shrugged. ‘She was on vacation too, I’m certain you two have probably put a little weight on with being away.’

Loki was pissed, so Claire grabbed his arm and started dragging him down the path. ‘Thanks, Chris. I’m sure Bat enjoyed her stay!’ She called to him. ‘Come on, Loki. Let’s get Bat home. She’s good.’

Loki grumbled under his breath but allowed Claire to guide him back to the car.

Chris just watched them from his doorway with a smug smirk.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #fluffy loki #loki fic #chris motionless #the redbridge hunts #vampire Loki

[valyalyon]

3 Red Highway

Hiiii! The smut scene in this post is (so nice). First half of this post is Rosalia finding out LJ's status within his gang, while the second half is LJ coercing Rosalia into having sex in the woods in front of his gang... yeah this one's spicy. Enjoy everyone <3

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SEA MASTER LIST OR #LYONSEA DIVIDERS

About a week had passed driving up and down along the Red Highway...

CW: explicit sexual descriptions, dubious consent, mentions of drugs, public intercourse, unprotected sex with MC on birth control. MDNI. 2K words

...Rosalia still had no idea about what it was that Lazarus and his gang would do, and she didn’t completely understand LJ’s role in the gang.

She knew that everyone in the gang seemed to respect him, and seemed to be willing to do anything for him, but she couldn’t figure out if he was someone in the higher ranks.

That day in June was a particularly hot one. The Red Highway was quiet most of that day, with Rosalia and the gang arriving to yet another town and breaking the silence.

The gang gathered around, and Lazarus grabbed Rosalia by the arm, squeezing her a little too tight. She wanted to pull away, but didn’t bother, knowing she was trapped in his grasp, “The gang’s going to hang out here, but I want you to come in with me and the boys.”

Rosalia looked up at him, wondering why he was being so firm with her, but nodding her head, “okay…”

“I don’t want you to say very much, I’ll introduce you and you can say hi, but once I start talking again, I need you quiet,” Lazarus was speaking under his breath so that only she could hear him.

The rest of the gang members separated into their own little groups as Fox and Dog made their way over to Rosalia and Lazarus.

Once the four were together, Fox went in front with Dog and led Rosalia and Lazarus into this town’s bar. Inside, the lights were dim and the atmosphere was dark and scary.

Rosalia felt her nerves working as they moved through the empty bar towards a backroom.

The door was opened by a mountain of a man, who ushered them into a dark and private lounge area. There were red dim lights all over the room and a long love couch on one side.

Laying on the love couch were three naked women, although they looked to be 18 like Rosalia. In the center of the room, a man stood, with two men behind him.

Lazarus took the lead at this point, leaving Rosalia behind Fox and Dog, and walking straight up to the man in the center of the room, “Surge,” Lazarus called the man, “we’ll get to business in a second but, I have someone for you to meet.”

Surge was an old man, maybe late 60s, with gray hair and a very serious face that shifted momentarily into a kind one, “what you got, Leviathan?”

Rosalia had heard the gang calling Lazarus by the name “Leviathan” a couple times before, and was curious each time about how he got the name.

Fox and Dog stepped aside after greeting Surge, and Lazarus pulled Rosalia by the arm to stand beside him, “Surge, this is Angel. Angel, this is Surge.”

“Nice to meet you, Surge,” Rosalia smiled kindly at him, taking his outstretched hand.

Surge smiled back at her, and then turned his attention quickly to Lazarus, “you got yourself a Highway Girl, huh? Never thought I’d see the day that Leviathan would choose to keep just one girl.”

“Couldn’t help myself when I saw her,” Lazarus explained, and then, the conversation changed, “I’m going to need more MDMA, Ketamine, Shrooms, and LSD. Also, did you get the order with all the guns I asked for?”

Surge nodded to one of his guys and the man stepped aside and went into a box on the other side of the room, “I did get your guns. They got all their serial numbers still, you can leave them here and come back for them tomorrow or you can have your men scratch them up.”

“No waiting around, man, I’ve got a couple guys that put expedited requests in for these, I’ll just have my guys take care of the numbers,” Lazarus explained casually as one of the man came over to Fox and Dog.

The man handed them a bag, that they then examined before handing it over to Lazarus.

Lazarus took a look inside, counting all the drugs, then handing it back over to Fox.

Surge then sent his other man to retrieve the guns and the man went into another room, coming back with all the guns individually packaged.

There was a total of about 10 guns, 8 of which were different variations of pistols and hand-guns, and were therefore put into one big bag.

The remaining two guns were bigger, and needed to be carried individually. Fox was given the bag with the handguns and Dog took the two larger guns.

Rosalia was trying to avoid everyone’s eyes, but when she’d look around everyone was involved in their scheme, no one paying any attention to her. She was grateful for it, because she felt scared.

She knew the gang were criminals, but she really hadn’t seen it first hand and now that she was it was definitely leaving her confused and worried.

It didn’t seem dangerous right then, but she knew how quickly things could spiral and she wondered if being on the road with Lazarus would ever result in anything permanent or fruitful.

She worried that it wouldn’t, but she really didn’t want to lose him.

…

That night, Lazarus’ gang settled down around a campfire, the smoke from the fire flew above the canopy, the trees and the birds all quiet within those woods.

The night was hot just like the day, the sunset never erasing the heat the Red Highway carried through the towns.

A couple of the girls were dancing with their men in the middle of the circle. Everyone there was drinking or smoking. The smell of cigarettes and pot mixed in with the smoke, and Rosalia watched the trail of ashes light up the sky.

She was stoned and reflecting on the events from that morning. Lazarus could always tell when something was going on inside his girl’s head. He didn’t want to bring any attention to her just yet, so he pressed his hand up to her back to get her attention.

Rosalia focused for a second, turning her attention to Lazarus, “today made me realize that I don’t know you.”

“Well, that’s a kick to the gut,” Lazarus laughed, and wrapped his arm around her, kissing the top of her head, “you know my full real name, not a lot of people know that.”

“Are you the gang’s leader?” Rosalia asked, not breaking eye contact with him.

“I mean, who else would it be?” Lazarus pulled Rosalia onto his lap and placed his hands on her hips, moving her ass against his crotch.

Rosalia was surprised, and tried to get out of his embrace but was unable to move, “everyone is here, LJ, I can’t, we can’t…”

“You’re not doing anything bad… This is just a lap dance…” he said, as his hand started to move up her shirt, exposing her full breasts.

“LJ,” Rosalia gasped and moved her arms to cover her breasts, “we literally can’t do this here.”

“Just once never hurts us, does it?” Lazarus asked, moving her arms forcefully and putting them behind her back.

He held both her wrists with one hand, and with the other hand he unzipped her pants and slipped his hand in.

Within seconds, he was fingering a struggling Rosalia in front of everyone. All 35 gang members were talking amongst their groups, occasionally looking over at the couple.

Rosalia moaned quietly, almost as whimpers, and looked over her shoulder at Lazarus, “everyone keeps looking…”

“That’s okay, don’t you think they deserve a show?” Lazarus said this as he began to take off her pants. He tossed her shoes and pants to the side, and then started fingering her more vigorously.

“No…” The girl moaned, her hands trying meekly to stop Lazarus.

“My Angel, you’ve seen all the women the men have… You don’t think they’re hungry to see a good sexual experience between two hot people?”

“Let go of me…” Rosalia mumbled pathetically, as Lazarus slowly pulled his fingers out.

“I can’t do that, you know how much I love holding you,” Lazarus sounded earnest, and then he unzipped his pants and pulled them down, rubbing her ass against his cock.

“Just once… I know I’m going to hate this,” Rosalia finally agreed, her body shaking to feel his throbbing dick.

“Highly doubt that,” Lazarus said, rubbing his cock as he started to lift Rosalia up to his tip.

He held each leg in one hand as he slowly lowered her down around his cock. Her little pussy slowly got bigger, exposed to everyone from the gang to see.

A couple of the guys kept looking over, their expressions ravenous, and a couple of the women were blushing sheepishly.

Lazarus finished dropping her down onto him, and then started to bounce her along it. He groaned into her ear, feeling her back against his chest, “that’s it, good girl, that’s it…”

“This is so bad,” Rosalia covered her mouth as she moaned, her tits bouncing as she rode his dick.

“Your cum is all over my cock, Angel, is it really bad to you?” He asked, speeding up his thrusts, getting deeper into her gut, “everyone’s going to know now, how good you are at taking my cock…”

“You’re demented, LJ,” Rosalia yelped like a little kitten as Lazarus proceeded to smack her.

“Save it, girl… I know how much you like this, otherwise you wouldn’t be as turned on as you are,” Lazarus countered, his balls smacking against her clit as he thrusted all the way to her cervix.

“I’m going to cum in your little pussy in front of everyone. I want you to finger it nice and wide for them to watch,” His hardened cock was throbbing, the excitement of fucking her in front of everyone he was a boss for just turned the man on.

He liked having power and showing it off.

Just as he said, he groaned and slammed his cock all the way in, “fuuck…” He muttered, biting her shoulder as he began to pump out nut, after nut, after nut.

Rosalia could feel how wet she was, and could feel the cold air on her naked body. She didn’t have a second to think, Lazarus laid her down on a towel and told her to open her legs.

She did as he asked, opening her legs. Her fingers made their way to her pussy, and she started to collect the dripping cum from her pussy. Wrapping it with her pretty fingers she pushed the cum back into her pussy.

Most of the guys had their eyes glued to her pussy as she did it.

Her head turned back as she moaned and fingered herself, trembling, “I love feeling your cum filling me…” She moaned, looking up at Lazarus.

“Clean my cock for me, girl,” Lazarus said, getting her up onto her knees and filling her open mouth with his still solid cock, “Go on, lick it off, pretty girl.”

She closed her green eyes, sucking happily on his tip, before sliding her way down the whole cock, swallowing up all the cum he had.

“Good girl,” Lazarus said, pulling her up to her feet and kissing her, “now get dressed… I’m tired of everyone looking at you.”

“Jealous now, are you?” Rosalia stayed naked, looking up at him defiantly.

“Get dressed or I’ll beat your ass in front of everyone,” He said, leading her to her clothes and cornering her behind him.

He turned his attention to the men that were staring, his voice was pissed as he moved forward threateningly, “what the fuck you idiots looking at?”

Everyone quickly turned away and returned to their conversations as if nothing had happened.

#smut #dub con #cw public #dark romance #writeblr #lyonsea #bluestlyon #creative writing #original story

[sadomas0chist]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw // fluff

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 4k

tags/warnings: slow burn (?), penetrative sex, dom jean, praising kink, slight breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, confessions, cute jean (yes this needs a warning) cheesiness.

synopsis: you discover something jean has been keeping for himself and it ends up adding all the puzzle pieces together.

a.n: i don’t usually add songs for you to listen to while reading my work, but if you want to get in the mood stream Last Days Of Summer by Summer Walker. thank me later.

i would also like to add that this was meant to be a short series. i got other fan-fiction ideas and need to answer some of your requests. also, i know this part is kind of cheesy but jean is a big softie i can’t help it.

“Connie, what’s taking you so long?” I yelled from our porch, swirling my car keys around my finger. I heard more shuffling coming from our apartment before Connie rushed out, Jean following him, throwing his hoodie on, covering the shirt that was squeezing his muscles.

“I was looking for my dab pen,” he took a hit and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed pushing his shoulder making him miss the step and almost colliding with the ground. I snickered and walked past Jean to my car door before he grabbed my arm and pushed me back.

“Passenger seat babe.” he looked down at me with his lazy smile. I scoffed swatting his arm away, only to be lifted from the ground. “Jean you prick!” I yelled moving my legs around.

“And I’m the kid.” Connie laughed getting in the backseat, clearly not suspicious of his homie’s behavior. I sighed getting into the passenger seat and crossed my arms.

Jean mirrored my action, before cussing, as he felt squeezed by how tiny the space was. “Damn aren’t you a small thing?” he teased backing up the seat so he could feel more comfortable. He smacked my thigh making my eyes widen. I looked down to see him holding out his hand, motioning me to give him the keys. I rolled my eyes and slammed them down his hand. He chuckled before shaking his head and mumbled something underneath his breath.

He wrapped his arm around my seat, tilting his head backward, putting the car in reverse, and slowly drove back. He winked at me before he shifted gears. The car ride was basically Connie singing out loud to songs and Jean casually joining in, their interaction reminding me of Hitch and I.

After what happened last night, I texted the girls’ group chat and told them everything that happened and how Jean was suddenly becoming more and more possessive which was honestly uncalled for. If I want to overthink it, he was always somewhat flirtier with me than he was with any girl when we used to hang out back in the day. However, Sasha and Mikasa didn’t elaborate much into it as they told me to shrug it off, whilst Hitch was rather excited about me having a ‘sneaky link’.

And honestly, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t turn me on… I mean look at him. He’s at least 6 feet tall with sexy sleeve tattoos and a gorgeous mullet. His stubble fit him perfectly and his jaw was sharp. He looked so different and delicious.

“We’re here!” Connie shouted into my ear, shaking me off of my thoughts. Jean had already parked and was taking his seatbelt off. I followed his gesture and got out of the car, carefully closing the door behind me, Connie already outside taking a few hits of his dab pen. Our gaze locked, his lips instantly forming into a smile as he threw his arm around my shoulders and brought my head closer to his lips, kissing my temple. I grinned wrapping my hand around his torso and leaned my head on his shoulder.

I was lucky to have a brother like him. He always made sure I was okay and had everything I need and wanted. He was my support system and I couldn’t ask for more. “All good?” he mumbled, tilting his slightly towards Jean who was typing something on his phone, probably waiting for us before going into the diner.

I nodded and he squeezed my arm. “Come on, let’s go inside, the weather is chilly today.” Jean held the door open as we walked in and spotted an empty table. It was connected to a couch, two other chairs placed on the opposite side of the table.

I sat on the couch, my back relaxing into the soft red leather, before feeling the seat dip next to me. I tilted my head, only to be met with Jean’s cocky expression. Connie managed to sit on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “Y’all in the mood for burger and fries?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Jean stated leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs. I nodded and took out my phone from my pocket setting it on the table. We called over for the waitress and placed our orders. “I forgot to ask you, how are your studies going y/n?” he added, dropping his head on his fist that rested against the wood and looked at me. Connie rested his elbows on the table, intrigued by the conversation.

“I’m doing good actually. I still have some things to get done and I’ll finally have some free time for myself. I honestly can’t wait until I’m done with this semester. It’s so tough and for what.” I whined, dropping my head against my crossed arms. His hand wrapped around my shoulder and pushed me towards him, my head colliding with his chest. Taken off guard, my arms wrapped around his torso. “Aw, come on you’ll do great, you got nothing to worry about.” he patted my head and gently stroked my hair. I blushed at his move, my stomach forming a knot. He was being extremely soft and gentle and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't surprising.

“Here you go.” the waitress cheered placing our food down. She eyed Jean before averting her gaze from him as he pushed me closer to him, my head closer to his chest. I breathed into his cologne and managed to hear his heartbeat. Fast. His heart was beating so fucking fast.

Connie didn’t seem to mind as he laughed at his phone before turning it to Jean, showing him the picture of a half-naked model showing off her ass, a man who looked to be her boyfriend standing next to her. “Baldie I’m still here.” I scrunched my face. “Although the dude is kinda hot,” I added. Once the following words left my lips, Jean’s hand swiftly moved down my ass to grab it, making me slightly jump. I looked up to see him glaring down at me then looked back at Connie’s phone. Did this just happen?

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” He cocked his eyebrow making Connie roll his eyes. “Man you used to like it when I showed you pictures like that." he shook his head locking his phone. He stayed silent for a few seconds before pointing at Jean with a big grin. "Oh my god, you are seeing someone!” he whispered.

I removed myself from Jean’s grasp and adjusted my clothes as I dived into my food, enjoying the warm feeling down my throat. “Nah dude, although I must admit that I've been thinking nonstop about someone lately,” he confessed taking a bite of his burger, Connie doing vulgar movements with his hands before he did the same.

“Jesus Connie,” I whined throwing a fried potato at him. “We’re eating.”

“Um, excuse me?” He scoffed as Jean laughed, muttering a small 'here we go', obviously aware of what my brother was about to say next. “The Jean Kirschtein I know doesn’t catch feelings. This dude is a damn sex machine. Which I can relate to but you know what I’m saying." he raised his hands up. "Now tell me, who got you so wrapped around their fingers you can’t even flirt with other women now?” He paused before adding, “ And don’t think I forgot how you pushed off that girl who tried to grind on you two days ago at the club.” I frowned, all of this not making any sense to me. How could he be sleeping with me but seeing someone else at the same time?

I felt sick, my fingers dropping the sauce I was about to pour on my fries as I excused myself to the bathroom. I made my way into the small area and looked at my reflection. I felt dirty. I felt used. Was I going to wreck a whole relationship? Or whatever he calls it.

The door swung open minutes after, revealing Jean. He had a serious expression on his face as he approached me, my ass now pressed against the sink, his tall frame towering me.

“Why’d you leave?” he questioned moving my hair from my face, cupping my cheeks. “I wanted to wash my hands,” I replied trying to free myself from his grasp but miserably failed. I frowned as I tried to push him away again, but his hands grabbed my wrists holding them down. “I don’t believe you, I think you got jealous,” he smirked, his lips inches away from mine. I glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he was seeking.

“Jean let me go. Someone might walk in and Connie is waiting for us outside, also, the food won’t stay hot for long and I want to-“

“I was talking about you silly.” he interrupted me, his thumb now rubbing my bottom lip. “You’re so fucking gorgeous it’s unreal,” he mumbled. “Can I kiss you?”

What was happening… I stared into his eyes that were focusing on my lips. Could he be telling the truth? What if he just wants to get in my- oh wait, he already did… Fuck that was so overwhelming.

“Jean I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Yes or no?” I thought for a moment before softly nodding. “I need to hear it.”

“I want you to kiss me…” I whispered almost as if I didn’t want anyone to hear me, including him. I’ve always felt different around Jean and I never knew why, at least until now. He smiled lifting my head up with his finger under my chin, his lips resting against mine gently. My hands gripped onto his hoodie, kissing him with much passion.

I felt safe. I felt good. I felt content.

“You got my heart working overtime, y/n.” he confessed. I wasn’t able to process everything as it all felt like a fever dream. What if I just wake up and it turns out to be a dream. Did he just confess that he likes me in a diner’s restroom? My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts furiously rushing through my brain.

After Jean left to study in France, we never kept in touch. It is true that we used to be friends because of his friendship with Connie and it always felt different from my other friendships with other men like Eren or Reiner, but the distance and the lack of communication turned us into strangers and killed the ‘connection’ that was bonding us. I thought it was just a tiny teenage crush, but ever since he came back, everything returned to the way it used to be.

“Connie is probably getting worried about me.” I said making him let go of my grasp, his eyes still holding the same expression as before. I made my way out of the restrooms and slid my hands into my pockets. “Hey, I was about to follow you, you good?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him and sat back down taking small bites of my food.

“Y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” he took a sip of his soda looking at me worryingly. “Of course, I’m fine really.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. A few minutes went by and Jean was back on the table with us. We jumped from a conversation to another, casually laughing as we brought back the old days.

Connie proposed to drive back and we didn’t mind since we both fell full from the food. Jean sat in the passenger seat as I lead down on the backseat, texting the girls every single detail of what happened today. It didn’t take them long to start bombarding me with replies.

‘Holy fuck he said what now? He’s fucking WHIPPED.’

‘I did hear him saying something about a girl when we hung out with Connie four days ago but I would have never thought that it would be about you…’

Seriously Sasha? I sighed and locked my phone dropping it on my chest. It didn’t take us long to arrive at the apartment we were now sharing with him.

***

I dropped on my bed, stripped down naked as my blanket was the only material covering me. I thought about what Jean told me back in that diner. I sighed closing my eyes. As I was almost about to fall asleep, my phone chimed on my nightstand.

I reached out to grab it, the message showing on my lock-screen making me open wildly my eyes.

-jean

you up? if you are, can i come into ur room?

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my keyboard, occasionally typing something then deleting it.

-me

why? wassup?

It didn’t take him long to text me back.

-jean

i can’t sleep and i want to talk to you

I sighed typing a simple ‘okay’ and got up to put a shirt on. I heard a light knock on my door as I slid on the fabric, my hand reaching out to turn the doorknob.

“Hi,” I stepped aside, indicating him to come in before carefully closing the door. He sat on my bed and tapped on the mattress. I sat next to him and waited for him to talk about whatever he’s been wanting to get off his chest.

“About what I said earlier, uhm,” he cleared his throat.

“If you’re here to say that you didn’t mean it, you could have said it over text.” I assumed raising my eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened to me and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any bullshit, especially after getting my feelings mixed up. If he was about to mess around, I should do the same and ignore whatever I was feeling, hoping it would fade away over time.

“No, why would I do that?” he frowned and looked at me weirdly. Oh well, spoke too soon I guess. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Listen y/n,” he paused searching for the words. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get laid. We made an agreement and if I just wanted to have sex with you I wouldn’t have said anything about well, liking you.”

I stayed silent waiting for him to finish. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room as it peeked through my window. It was quite peaceful. “I think, no, I know I’ve liked you for a while. I never acted on it because your brother once threatened me jokingly about messing me up if I hurt you, and regarding the person I used to be, I would have most probably ended up hurting you and because of that, I decided to sleep on whatever I was feeling and hoped I'd move on from it. But holy fuck you and grew into such a smart and beautiful woman, I couldn’t help but let my feelings for you emerge again.” He cupped my cheek with his hand bringing me closer.

Fucking hell someone pinch me right now, I must be dreaming.

“However if you don’t like me back, or don’t want to hook up with me anymore, I’d totally understand.” I stared at him as I felt like I was looking at a different person. Now I get why Connie was so surprised when he heard Jean talking like that back at the diner. That wasn’t the Jean I was used to, or at least the Jean he became when he left for college. I wasn’t familiar with this new character development if I might call it.

“Why… why are you telling me all of this now?” I whispered, shifting in my seat to sit closer to him, our knees slightly brushing against each other. He brought his hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me closer to him. “You got my mind going crazy.” and with that, I pressed my lips against his, instantly feeling his lips kiss me back.

I straddled his lap and slid my tongue between his lips, our kiss sloppy and slow. His hands moved down to grip my ass, pushing me further to him, my bare cunt brushing against the soft fabric of his shorts. A moan escaped my lips as he gripped the hem of my shirt, lifting it, my nipples exposed to the chilly air. "Wait..." I pulled away and rested my hands on his chest. "We're gonna have to tell Connie."

He smiled and reached out to kiss me again. "First thing tomorrow. I don't think your brother is that oblivious anyway." he chuckled and squeezed my hips. I laughed, bringing his face closer to mine kissing him gently.

Our make-out session became more urgent ad rushed. Jean lied back, his hands resting on my waist as I took off my shirt. His hands reached out to grab my breast, fondling it with his big hand. My hips moved against him, the feeling of wanting to be filled by him becoming unshakeable. Removing myself off his hips, I crawled down and pulled down his sweats along with his briefs, his erection slapping against his stomach. I smirked at him as I began pumping his length, soft groans escaping his lips. I swirled my tongue over his tip and slit before sliding him down my throat, coating him with my spit. "Shit," his hips bucked forward, his cock going deeper down my throat. I started bobbing my head, my tongue running over his underside, feeling the pulsation of his prominent vein. Our eyes locked, his mouth agape and his chest slightly rising from his deep breathing. His hand fell on his eyes as he threw his head back, his fat cock now throbbing.

“Y/n, ah, fuck-“ he hissed grabbing a fistful of my hair and guided my head. I knew he was close and it made me wet as well. My fingers were already rubbing circles on my sensitive bud, my climax as close as his. I removed his dick from my mouth and straddled his lap. I aligned him to my entrance and slowly sunk onto him, sighs leaving both of our lips.

He felt insanely deep within me, his size stretching perfectly. I rested my hands on his chest as I ground on him, his hand lacing around my neck to bring me closer to him, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped in my mouth as his hand made their way to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and moving me upwards. I moaned into his mouth, my nipples brushing against his chest. I sat back up, my hands prompted back on his chest as I bounced my ass on him.

“Ride my cock baby just like that.” he moaned out. We were both already close to our orgasm, the sensitivity sending us off the edge. “You ride me so good, but-“ he sat up pushing me off him. “I want to fuck it in you,” he smirked pulling me off the bed and walking me to the wall, my back pressed against it. He wrapped his arms underneath my thighs and lifted me up, my legs snaking around him.

“Now stay quiet while I stuff you eh?” he breathed, pushing his tip inside me before thrusting his hips forward, almost hitting my cervix. My face hid in the crook of his neck, doing my best to silence my moans. My back moved against the cold wall, his whimpers and moans growing louder in my ear.

I shut my eyes close when he began rolling his hips faster, my orgasm rushing through my body. “Jean…” I whimpered tugging on his hair, my heels digging in his back. My arm was wrapped underneath his, my fingers scratching his back. I clenched around him making him hiss and fuck me harder, indicating that he was also close to reaching his climax.

“You wanna come with me?” I nodded staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “Yeah…” I mumbled out, biting down on my lower lip to keep quiet. “Yeah?” he mocked with a smirk before he started kissing my neck, occasionally leaving small bites next to my collarbone.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, my thighs shaking as my orgasm ripped through me. He quickly followed ropes of cum shooting inside me. He whimpered, stroking himself a little bit more before pulling out and carefully putting me down. As soon as my feet touched the floor, his semen began leaking out of my opening down my leg.

“Well shit better clean that.” he ran his fingers up my legs before pushing his cum back in me making me gasp. “You’re good now,” he smirked before lifting me off again, this time in bridal style as he walked me to the bed, carefully putting me down. “I would’ve loved to shower with you,” he stroked my cheek, his body hovering over me. “But I don’t want your brother walking in on us like that. At least not before I tell him everything.” he poked my nose before kissing my forehead.

I nodded my head, smiling at him. “I like you so fucking much,” he admitted once again, this time his lips kissing mine.

“I like you too.” he cocked an eyebrow at my confession. “I knew it,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

***

“Uhh, back the fuck up.” Connie pointed at Jean who was wrapping his arm around me in the kitchen. “You two like each other?” he waved his finger between us before stuffing his fork in his mouth again. I nodded and pushed myself closer to Jean. “Oh no.” he groaned pushing himself off his stool.

“No no no no no…” he repeated in annoyance as he walked past us. I frowned, turning to see him throwing himself on the couch. He threw his head back, another groan leaving his lips as he ran his hands us his face.

“I thought you’d be happy for me, what’s-“

“You had sex while I was in here?” he accused us dramatically in a high-pitched voice, faking his tears. Jean instantly laughed at his friend’s accusation. I let out a sigh of relief and shook my head before laughing at Connie who was fake gagging.

“We only did it the night you saw us together.” I played off. Connie gave me a ‘you think I’m stupid’ look and sighed.

“It was an everyday thing.” Jean corrected making me elbow his waist. He winced pinching my hip earning another hit. “Seriously man?” Connie whined. I mean, at least he wasn’t mad about us liking each other. The only thing that irked him, which is by the way overdramatized and ends up being one of his silly plays, is the fact that I had sex with him when he was sound asleep.

Connie sighed, his annoyed expression turning into a sly one. “I knew you two were fucking!” he laughed sticking his tongue out and clapping his hands. “Now that I’m positive that my sister got cuffed by someone I trust, I can finally sleep in peace.” I rolled my eyes before raising my hand to smack him but Jean pulled me closer to him making it impossible for me to move.

I looked up only to be met with his browns orbs already looking down at me with pure adoration. I could tell he was going to be one of the best things that have ever happened to me and I couldn’t be more thankful. Connie was still talking but I didn’t hear a word he said. Instead, I buried my face into his red hoodie and held him tightly. Who would have thought that my insignificant crush would actually make me feel so lucky?

“-she was and still is everything I’ve always wanted.” I heard him say before kissing my forehead.

#aot fandom #aot x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtien #jean smut #jean x reader smut #aot headcanons #aot x reader smut #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x you #aot anime #attack on titan smut #snk fanfiction #snk imagines #snk smut #short series #aot series

[mmvalentine]

Fifty-Six part 3 | Feysand

Okay last one, the smut finale. There's still no plot, blame @asteria-of-mars it's her birthday and this is what she asked for 🤪

Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 3: Return of the King

After that, Feyre suggested they not have males in the house for a while, and Rhys grudgingly agreed. Feyre had Mor around to help with the map she was making, and Rhys was writing a letter on the other side of the library.

The peace lasted for all of twenty minutes, until Mor said “Oh, Feyre you’ve got an ink smudge on your cheek.” Feyre swiped at her face. “No, not there, it’s… never mind, I got it.” Mor licked her thumb and rubbed the offending mark. And Rhys was shoving her bodily out of the room.

“Oh come on!” Mor wailed at the closed door. She thumped her fist against the wood, before storming out grumbling under her breath. Rhys did not get their clothes completely off before he was fucking Feyre against the door.

Amren, of course, refused to be Rhys’s next victim.

“No,” she had said flatly when they asked.

“I need exposure therapy!” Rhys said. “I’m sure I can get this bond thing under control.”

“And he wouldn’t dare mess with you,” Feyre added.

“Boy, get this through your head. You’re newly mated, and you can’t be around other people right now. So go hole up in the townhouse or the cabin or wherever you people live, and call me when your brain is functional.” Rhys opened his mouth, but Amren cut him off. “Until then, stop forcing us to be around all this lovey-dovey, over-possessive, hyper-hormonal shit. Now get the fuck off my doorstep.”

So they winnowed home, and when they got to their bedroom Feyre turned and stared at Rhys with her arms folded.

“Don’t say it,” Rhys warned.

“I told you!” Feyre yelled.

“I said don’t say it,” her mate sulked.

“I told you you weren’t ready!”

“You did.”

“I told you we should have stayed at the cabin another week!”

“Yes.”

“And now our friends won’t have a bar of us!”

“No.”

“Well??”

“Well, don’t stand there and pretend like I’m the only one affected by this thing!”

Feyre stared at him. “I might be affected, but at least I still have some semblance of self-control.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Rhys stiffened all over, and a mask Feyre had not seen for a long time settled itself over his lovely features. The air cooled so fast it took her breath away a little.

“Is that so?” Rhys asked. Dangerously soft.

“Of course,” Feyre said, but it did not come out as certain as she wanted it to. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening yet.

Rhys put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side. There was a steely glint in his eyes, and for a minute Feyre wondered whether she had made him angry. She felt the bond to see if she could get a better reading on him, but all that came back was a dark and pulsing energy.

Rhys walked slowly toward her, and Feyre found herself backing away.

“You’re perfectly in control, are you darling?” he asked. Feyre gasped and put her hands out as her back hit a wall. Rhys was now towering over her, power and shadows coiling around him like black smoke. He lifted a hand, and his fingertips were onyx talons. He hooked the claw of his index finger in Feyre’s neckline, and dragged it downward, tearing fabric like it was paper. All the way to her navel. Feyre shivered as the air hit her bare skin. Rhys bent his head and ghosted his lips along the shell of her ear. “Shall we test that theory, you and I?”

Rhys's gaze traveled down her torn dress and back up to her lips, and Feyre felt the hot line of it searing her skin. He moved his head, inches from hers, and she thought he might kiss her but instead he just moved a curl behind her ear. Feyre's heart beat fast, half willing him to touch her and half willing him to let her go.

And then he leaned in and took soft, slow, sucking bites: behind her ear lobe, against the side of her throat, in the hollow at the base of her neck, in between her breasts. As he did so, his hand slid up her thigh, and he stroked her softly through her underwear. Feyre whimpered. His free hand landed on the wall above her head, and now he was watching her with eyes that burned as the fingers between her legs moved lightly up and down. Made small circles against the cotton. Feyre let out a shuddering breath, and sank down a little further, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze but unable to look away.

Rhys stood up straight again, leaning his forearms on the wall either side of her face and her thighs clenched together at the loss of contact. “Now, Feyre darling,” he said. His breath blew against her face like an ocean breeze, and Feyre's eyes glazed over. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he watched her. “I know you’re rather new around here, but I’m going to have to teach you a lesson in control.”

Without warning, Rhys ducked down and picked Feyre up under the thighs. She yelped and grabbed a hold of his shoulders, and Rhys put her down on the bed. Smoothed her limbs down, then vanished her ruined dress with a thought.

“So,” Rhys said. He lay beside her, ankles crossed and propped up on his elbow. He trailed a finger from the tip of her nose, over her lips, all the way down her sternum. “Since you are so unaffected by this bond of ours, and I am nought but a wastrel of a male buffeted by the tides of my desire, you can demonstrate for me the virtues of self-restraint.” Rhys lifted her arms above her head. “You’re going to keep your hands there, until I say you can move them. And if you don't I'll tie you up so you can't. Think you can manage that, my sweet?”

Feyre lifted her chin. “Of course,” she said. This game was new. But she was fairly certain that after the way Rhys had been behaving all week, she could take him.

“Good girl,” Rhys purred, and then his finger kept moving, down her stomach, circling around but not touching her clit, and then deep inside her. Feyre moaned. “I do love you naked,” he said. “Laid out on the bed for me like this. Already dripping for me. Mine to play with.”

“And you?” Feyre panted. She eyed his jacket meaningfully.

“Why Feyre darling, this is an exquisite suit. I think I’ll keep it on for now.” And he started moving his hand, adding his thumb over her clit. Feyre’s eyes rolled back as his free hand cupped her left breast, and his closed his mouth over her right. His tongue flicked over her nipple in time with the movement of his fingers, and Feyre started to unravel under his touch.

“Oh and Feyre?” Rhys said, lifting his face but speeding his fingers.

“Mmmm?”

“You’re not to come unless I tell you.”

Feyre’s eyes popped open at that, and she opened her mouth to protest but then he curled his fingers, pressing hard against the most sensitive spot inside her and she had to bite down hard on her lip not to climax on the spot.

“Good girl,” Rhys said again, and that was it. She was going to obey. She would earn his praise, and prove him wrong, and win the game.

If you don’t want to play anymore, a soft voice said in her mind. Just say ‘sunrise.’ And I’ll stop and take care of you. Feyre nodded, and bucked her hips into his hand.

Rhys chuckled, and put his lips on her pussy. Sucked her clit into his mouth while his fingers worked inside her, and she could feel herself soak his hand. Rhys confirmed it when he groaned against her. “So fucking wet,” he murmured. “Give it all to me honey.” The vibration of his groan traveled all the way up her spine, and his free hand smoothed up toward her neck. He gripped her throat, just lightly, just enough to hold her down on the bed. And then squeezed harder when it made her moan. Her hands, remaining above her head, curled around the top edge of the mattress.

“Is that good, love?” Rhys asked her.

“Yes,” Feyre mouthed. “Yes, yes, so good….”

“You taste perfect, do you know that?” Rhys said, before rubbing the flat of his tongue fast against her clit. Feyre cried out, release bursting before her eyes- and Rhys withdrew. Took his hands and his mouth off her and she was mewling and writhing on the bed.

“You weren’t going to come, were you darling?” Rhys asked, head cocked to one side.

“Nnn… no,” she stuttered.

“Because we had an agreement,” he went on. “And you have such control as to not be trifled with a little orgasm delay. Right?”

Feyre nodded, her eyes closed and her hips still searching for him.

“Good,” he said. “Say, is rather warm in here, don’t you think?”

Rhys stood and, very casually, removed his jacket, taking care to drape it carefully over an arm chair. Then he stood at the end of the bed and took off his shirt, taking his time over the buttons while Feyre watched him like a starveling.

“Roll over on your stomach,” he said, and she did so. Rhys hummed his approval. “There’s that beautiful ass,” he said. He dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, and squeezed his hands over her backside. “No one has an ass like yours, darling dear.” While he kneaded her flesh, he tugged her back toward him and started eating her out from behind. Feyre moaned his name, and was rewarded with a deep push of his tongue inside of her. Meanwhile, one of his hands wandered down to the seam of her, and his thumb rubbed against her asshole. Feyre cried out at the new sensation, and her hands scrabbled at the sheets in front of her. She rocked her hips on his tongue, and tried to tilt her pelvis to get friction on her clit, too.

It was all so much. It was delicious. The pleasure curled tight in her belly as the three pressure points collided, and she was lost, lost in the swirling heat and honey and…

And then nothing at all as Rhys pulled back yet again. Feyre cried out in disappointment so sharp it almost hurt, and Rhys clicked his tongue.

“Now now dove, you’re not even trying to hold back.” He spanked her hard across the backside and stars burst before her eyes. “Where’s that self-control I’ve heard so much about?”

Rhys sat on the edge of the bed and kicked his boots off. “Roll back over and keep those hands up.” He removed the rest of his clothes, folding them equally neatly with the jacket. When he turned back to Feyre, she couldn’t help it. She looked down at his hips. At the rock hard length of him. Rhys grinned toothily.

“Oh, so that’s what you want,” he said, like it was only just occurring to him. He knelt on the bed, straddling her waist. “But darling you promised me. You won’t come until I say.” Feyre nodded.

“I won’t,” she whispered. Rhys smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip gently.

“I know,” he said. And then pushed two fingers into her mouth. Feyre sucked hard on them as he dragged then back past her lips and then reached behind to touch his wet fingers to her still-throbbing clit. Feyre lifted her hips to his touch, relieved that the contact had returned. Then with his free hand Rhys guided his cock to her lips.

Feyre licked at the head of him, reaching all that she could with her hands still above her head. Rhys groaned slowly, moved the tip of his cock back and forth over her tongue while the fingers between her legs slid inside of her. Feyre craned her neck to try and take more of him into her mouth, and was gratified when Rhys’s eyes slid closed momentarily and he moved his hips to slide further in. Feyre’s grip on the mattress tightened, fighting the urge to wrap her hand around around the base of him. Instead, she tried to move her head back and forth, range of motion very limited in this position. Rhys’s hand cupped the back of her head and held her up while he started fucking into her mouth, his fingers in her pussy speeding up at the same time, so she was being filled twice over. Rhys added another finger, and ground the heel of his palm against her clit while she sucked him off, and this time when her climax built, Feyre clamped down hard on it.

She tried to concentrate on swirling her tongue around Rhys’s head, focusing on his pleasure instead of hers. But when he moaned her name, she found herself in deeper peril than before.

“Cauldron fuck, Feyre,” Rhys groaned. “You feel incredible around my cock. Just wanna keep fucking your pretty mouth like this until I come,” he said. “Can you take more? Can I fuck your throat a little?” Rhys pushed further in and Feyre’s eyes watered, but she took it. “Fuck yes, Feyre. So good. So good taking my cock like this.”

She wanted him to come first. Surely if he came then she would be allowed to. But the dirty talk was turning her on like crazy, and she tried to hold her hips still to cool some of the heat off. Rhys was having none of that. He pushed a third finger inside her, and the sudden stretch pushed her over the edge. Feyre tried to hide it, but couldn’t stop her body from clenching and shaking beneath him.

Quick as a flash, Rhys had gotten off her, rolled her over and slapped her hard on the ass. Feyre gasped and sobbed as her climax was cut off.

“You wicked thing!” Rhys scolded. He sat down the edge of the bed and dragged her face down so her ass was across his lap, and then landed a spank with each word of his next sentence. “Didn’t- I- tell- you- not- to- come!” And then a final slap sang out right over her desperate pussy. Feyre cried out, and tears filled her eyes as her skin was shot through with electricity all over. She was over-sensitised everywhere; the air was too cold between her legs and the sheets were too rough on her skin.

“Rhys please!” Feyre screamed.

“Oh please is it?” Rhys asked, incensed. “You deliberately disobey instructions and now you’re asking for favours?” He rubbed circles against her clit, but then as she lifted her hips, spanked her pussy again.

"Oh! No don't- please, please Rhys please," she blurted as she was left cold yet again.

He slid out from under her, then pulled her hips up again so she was on all fours. “Fine,” he said coldly, and then lay on his back with his head between her knees. Pushed down on her lower back and held her there so that her pussy was in his face, and then sucked hard against her clit.

But it was too much now, she wanted him to touch her but needed him to slow down.

“Not so much,” she gasped. Rhys ignored her, moved his fingers inside her again at an alarming pace while he continued to suckle against her clit. Feyre’s elbows gave and she dropped to her forearms. Her body had started to shake now, and Rhys's tongue was relentless.

“You’ll take what you’re given,” Rhys said. He gave her a cruel smile. “Since you wanted it so badly, pet.” Underneath her, he slid up the bed to take her nipple in his teeth. She was dragged down his body, and felt him absolutely everywhere. The sensation piled up, and Feyre was falling apart at the seams. His tongue rolled the hardened point like he had her clit, and all the while his fingers pumped inside her. Feyre tried to move but he held her tight against his body.

Rhys pushed up again, and now he was shoving her hips down against his and grinding his hard length against her. She was coating him with her wetness, clenching everything as her pussy was slid over and over the ridges of him but not where she needed it. The tip of an index finger pushed into her ass, and his other hand was sliding along her scalp to fist in her hair. His nails scratched that back of her head, and Feyre didn’t know what feeling was coming from where, couldn’t find focus, couldn't stop shivering.

“Too much,” she gasped. “Please, please Rhys.”

“What do you need, honey?” Rhys asked. He continued to slide his cock up and down her bare, drenched pussy while her eyes rolled in her head. “You need to be fucked?” Feyre couldn’t even manage to nod. “You need to come?” Feyre just wept while she tried to hold her body up over Rhys’s. “Mating bond a little rough there, is it darling?”

“Yes,” Feyre babbled. “Yes, it hurts, I need you, please oh fuck please...”

“You know, you look gorgeous undone,” Rhys crooned, and then he rolled them over, grabbed a hold of her hips and slammed his cock into her, again and again and again, fucking her hard and fast like maybe, just maybe he had been torturing himself a little, too.

"Holy fuck," he groaned. "Fuck you're perfect, perfect and mine."

But Feyre didn't hear him. She was stretched and filled and the didn't know anything except for the pounding repeating and repeating. Her vision blacked out and the pleasure exploded behind her eyelids, and the unbearable pressure finally ignited, pulling her right off the bed with its force. By the time Rhys was coming too, Feyre’s screams had gotten so high they’d lost their sound, and all that could be heard was her name falling off Rhys’s lips as he shuddered his climax.

Feyre lay, completely spent and near comatose on the bed. Rhys pressed reverent kisses to her lips, her chest, her stomach.

“You can come now,” he said, voice sparkling with amusement. Feyre was going to roll he eyes, but then he kissed her slowly right over the clit and to her great surprise, she actually came again on his lips. Just a little.

When she had come down, she was sure she was dead. Rhys pulled her into his arms and kissed the back of her shoulder.

“Okay,” she mumbled. “Maybe I don’t have any self control either.” Rhys chuckled into her neck.

“It’s okay love,” he said. “We’ll work on it.” He slid a hand behind her head and gently massaged her there. “Besides,” he said. “I’m pretty sure we’ve been given orders to stay home and fuck.”

Feyre laughed, but winced as it tugged at her exhausted muscles.

“Oh poor darling,” Rhys said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Was I little rough with you?” His free hand stroked soothingly over her flank.

“Yes,” Feyre sighed. “It was divine.”

“I love you,” Rhys whispered, and then sleep claimed her.

****

And that's the end. Just had to squeeze in some of Liz's favourite CoN!Rhys for the final chapter there, and yes I am a cheeseball and named this chapter after Liz's *other* love. I rather like the idea of king of the nightmare court, don't you? Happy birthday darling xxx

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #liz's birthday present #oh so much smut #the most smut i think i've ever written in one go #what if i've used up all my smut? #i think i should be banned now #anyway happy birthday angel!!

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #tw past child abuse #I love the lake scene

[contemplativepancakes]

five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

i.

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room. 

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting. 

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose. 

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated. 

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes. 

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose. 

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier. 

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes. 

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up. 

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room. 

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag. 

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.  

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap. 

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond. 

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely. 

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days. 

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water. 

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades. 

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received. 

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword. 

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously. 

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight. 

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath. 

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank. 

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. 

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat. 

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it. 

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there. 

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth. 

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts. 

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing. 

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor. 

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. 

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked. 

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes. 

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed. 

Geralt grits his teeth. 

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff. 

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him. 

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up. 

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said. 

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left. 

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again. 

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter. 

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on. 

-

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion. 

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view. 

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked. 

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed. 

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter. 

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky. 

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe? 

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from. 

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt. 

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else. 

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him. 

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it. 

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing. 

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point. 

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself. 

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot. 

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared. 

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers. 

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed. 

And, gods, did he miss a lot. 

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around. 

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it. 

 Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh. 

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier. 

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt. 

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp. 

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came. 

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help. 

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat. 

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts. 

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows. 

v.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself. 

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen. 

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s. 

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long. 

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs. 

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place. 

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time. 

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream. 

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react. 

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away. 

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. 

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—” 

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers. 

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin. 

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone. 

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness. 

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear. 

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp. 

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips. 

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree. 

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits. 

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines. 

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth. 

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention. 

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself. 

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out. 

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip. 

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again. 

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him. 

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist. 

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles. 

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him. 

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point. 

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough. 

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits. 

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole. 

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles. 

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. 

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him. 

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it. 

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless. 

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. 

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him. 

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach. 

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers. 

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums. 

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear. 

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing. 

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly. 

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting. 

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him. 

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin. 

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum. 

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ficlet #fanfiction #contemplative writing #5+1 fic

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man .

~~~~~~~~~~I wish I could forget, when it was magic~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung x Oc 

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

 Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

How do you know you’re ready for kids? 

Is it after you’re financially stable enough? After you’ve partied enough? Got all the wildness inside you tamed? After you’ve grown sick of the freedom that comes with youth and what it implies ?  after you’ve grown tired of empty conversations that lead nowhere? sharing ubers with people you barely like because you’re too drunk to drive? When you just crave the comfort of people you truly love instead of strangers who grind up on you ? Or perhaps   when you start preferring silence in the evenings to the thrumming bass in some dingy nightclub? 

None of these really. 

The truth is you’re never ready. 

Hoshi had been planned. Taehyung and I had done our homework, studied everything from my ovulation cycle to the entire catalogue of some expensive breast pump , new in the market . Everything had been researched and planned and perfected : the wood the crib would be made of, the color he wallpaper in the nursery would be and the kind of diapers and wipes we would use. 

But it still threw us for a loop....how unpredictable he was.

How unpredictable the pregnancy was. 

What I wanted : Home birth. Mid wife . Taehyung by my side holding my hand.

What i got : Preeclampsia, a baby born six weeks early, Taehyung frantic on the phone in the middle of the night as he took his private jet from Japan where he was shooting a commercial. The pain of being induced into a labor that lasted for 16 hours only for my body to give up half way through. 

A c section that left a scar and numbness that hadn’t faded even now , after four whole years. three weeks in the NICU....tears and terror after learning that the  baby in the incubator right next to Hoshi’s didn’t make it. Aching to hold my son but being forced to stare at him through the glass, wires and tubes wrapped around his tiny torso. 

And through it all, Taehyung. 

Stronger than I had ever seen him. Calm and collected as he watched me pump milk for our baby, barely managing a few measly drops of it after thirty minutes of trying . His arms around me, holding me up as I tried to fight the sheer agony that came from my stitches, tried to stay conscious for the baby. Watching him carefully pour the milk into a sterile bottle to take down to the NICU . 

Falling in love with him, over and over and over again throughout the day as he did  everything for me. 

Hoshi was loved and cherished , not just because he was an expression of our love for each other. 

But a reminder of Taehyung’s love for  me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ He’s growing out of all his clothes. I’m going to take him shopping tomorrow.”  Taehyung commented, watching Hoshi get on his tippy toes to point out the pastry he wanted from the display case, while a star struck cashier stared at Taehyung . 

Taehyung’s body guards were right near the table and while a crowd of people stood outside, none of them came too close. I was used to the attention that came with Taehyung and his celebrity status. 

“That’s a good idea. I have a couple of meetings tomorrow regarding the Christmas campaign and I may not be able to make it on the weekedn either. Is it okay if I pick him on monday evening?” I asked, cutting into the blueberry scon on my plate.

“How about I drop him off at your office. Save you the trip.” 

I hesitated, before nodding. 

“I spoke to the lawyer....she told me the papers should be processed by the end of next month. My company will make a formal announcement from both of us and we’ll say we don’t intend to answer any other media questions.”

I stared at him, watching his face carefully for something different. A sign that would explain what had changed between us because something had. I was sure of it. 

“ Why now, Taehyung?” I asked softly. 

He held my gaze for a second, eyes warm and honest. Taehyung could hide his emotions well, but his eyes always told the truth. 

“Because I’ve strung you along long enough. You deserve to be free.” He said finally.

I swallowed, looking down. 

“I ....you didn’t string me along.” I shook my head.

“I think you deserve to be loved right, without the shadow of my failures hanging over you. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life in a limbo because of one wrong choice.”

Wrong choice. 

Whose ?

His? When he chose to drink That night?

Or mine? When I chose to walk out?

Or the both of us? For handling the fallout so badly? 

I had so many questions but I didn’t say anything. 

They were question that had no answers. 

“So we move on.” I stared at him intently.

“I will always love you. I will always be there for you.” He smiled, eyes glinting a little. 

i watched him, the familiar body. He had been my first. My best. Taehyung’s body was as familiar to me as my own and I wanted to hug him, hold him close and press kisses to his lips again. It wasn’t emotional or even sexual it was just...this urge to let him know that he was loved too. that he was adored. That he would always be loved.

“But, “ he went on, “  yes. Its been two years.... so.... we should move on. Meet other people. ” 

“Fall in love again ?” I didn’t mean to sound bitter but my tone certainly was. He gave me a very tired smile and I felt guilt bubble up inside me. 

“I’m not going to be that greedy, Mia.  I will settle for just feeling a little less alone.” He looked away and my throat closed up. 

He stood up, moving to the counter to pay for the treats that Hoshi had chosen. 

And that was it. 

I watched the small tendrils of warmth, rising up from my coffee, gossamer strips of smoke mingling in the cold air and melting into nothingness. 

Here one second gone the next.

Just like my marriage. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little past seven when I reached my apartment, my phone ringing just as I dropped my coat and unwrapped the scarf from around my neck. I moved quickly to the bedroom, pulling my phone out of my handbag. 

I picked the call, switching it to speaker before tossing my phone on the bed. 

“Hello?”

“Jang Mi...its Jungkook. You ready?”

I swore, stripping out of my clothes quickly, fumbling with my bra and yanking my panties down.

“I’m just about to shower.  Five me ten minutes!” 

He didn’t reply and I frowned.

“Jungkook??” i called opening the closet to grab a hairband and shower cap. 

“When you say you’re just about to shower...are you actually in the shower?” His voice  sounded a little deeper than usual. Weird. 

“What?” I was completely confused.

“Like are you naked in-”

Oh Christ. 

I rolled my eyes, hanging up quickly. Sleeping with Jungkook, while extremely pleasurable had definitely been a little too much too soon. It made him take too many liberties, ones I wasn’t particularly comfortable giving him yet. 

But I liked him. 

He was, at the end of the day a nice guy. 

A nice guy who had an actual interest in me. Those were rare to come by. 

It was another fifteen minutes before I was ready, choosing a plain black jumpsuit in a flowy georgette material. It had nice flowy sleeves and i added gold jewelry at my wrists and earrings, just for a little bling. I stared at the dress at all angles. It definitely hugged my curves right but was also impossibly hard to take off. 

So even if I got swayed by his good looks and made bad choices ,  by the time Jungkook undressed me , i would be able to come to my senses and stop myself from having sex with him again. 

Groaning at myself, I grabbed the small black jeweled clutch from inside my dresser, slipping my phone in.

I steered clear of make up, choosing just a deep red lipstick. 

The knock on the door came just as i finished slipping into black pumps . 

I opened the door , only to have a dozen red roses thrust into my hands. 

“Wow.” I whispered, glancing at him. He looked extra handsome, a blood red shirt clinging to his torso, a think black tie knotted at his neck. He gave me a devilish wink, eyes flitting all over me , licking his lips. 

i tamped down the urge to back away, reminding myself that I was supposed to be moving on. Even if it wasn’t with Jungkook, he had asked me out on a date and I had agreed. I would enjoy myself tonight. 

“Gorgeous. Ready?”

“Let me just put these in water...” I smiled at him, placing the stems into the cut glass decanter on the nearest table. I emptied the small bottle of water nearby into it , bending over to fix the petals when I felt him press right up against me. 

Startling, i nearly spilled the water all over the floor, breath catching when his chest met my back . I felt myself trembling a bit because of how warm he felt, even with the inches between us and I could smell him, the subtle cologne that handsome men wear , just to drive women crazy. 

The urge to lean into his body was so strong I had to clench my fists. Apparently,  my body was  very much on board with moving on even if my heart wasn’t. Jungkook made things worse by moaning into my ear, chin resting on my shoulder as he lightly gripped my waist, before reaching over with other hand, plucking one scarlet bloom from the bunch  

I swallowed as he wrapped both arms around me in a backhug , holding the bloom up in front of my face. 

“Do you like the scent of it?” His lips brushed my ear and I grinned. I hadn’t been flirted with , like this in years. I bent my head to lightly breath in the air near the bloom, enjoying the subtle scent. “It’s lovely.” I said honestly. 

He  casually broke the stem off, a couple of inches from the where the petals began. 

“Turn around for me “ Jungkook whispered in my ear again. I turned around quickly, my lips inches from his, refusing to back away, staring right at him. He smirked, bringing the flower up to the small upknot on the side of my head. 

I stayed still as he carefully pulled a single bobby pin out, sticking the stem into my hair before casually using his teeth to pry open the pin again and slotting it into my hair, pinning the flower in place. 

Apparently, watching Jungkook pin a rose into my hair was winning brownie points for him in my brain, because my entire body went warm , my heart beating faster. 

“I’m scared to ask why you’re so good at this...” I smiled and he raised an eyebrow.

“I have a daughter remember? Its a lot of ribbons and bows and pins.” He grinned. 

The idea that Jungkook did his daughter’s hair for her, with ribbons and flowers was so ridiculously endearing I wanted to coo. 

“There. Now we match.... A little.” he smiled. 

I stared at him, the black tie on his red shirt and the red rose against my black dress. 

“Smart. “ I nodded. 

“Shall we leave?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I had fun tonight.” Jungkook hesitated . 

The night had been so much more fun than I’d anticipated. Jungkook somehow convincing me to party crash someone’s engagement party near the pool with an open bar and ridiculous ninety’s party music. But I’d danced to my heart’s content, my hair coming undone half way through and I was only a little upset that I’d lost the red rose in the middle of people.

“I had a lot of fun too Jungkook’ah..” I smiled, honest . 

“We should do this again. Since we never got to actually talk. It was just you getting progressively drunk and dancing like you wanted to pee.” He teased and I pouted. 

I reached out and pressed a palm to his face...his skin smooth under my skin and I felt myself swaying just a little, lethargic and a little aroused from the scent of him.

“Wanna get another drink?” And then because I was completely gone and had no filter, “ If you come inside....maybe I’ll let you cum inside. if you know what I mean.....” I drawled, waggling my eyebrows. 

Jungkook’s face morphed into one of absolute shock, lips parted and then he laughed so hard he choked, coughing. 

“Wow. You  are  drunk.” He shook his head, looking amused. “ How about this.... I’ll come in and tuck you into bed and if you drink a couple of glasses of water for me, I will not tease you about this tomorrow.” He offered. 

I pouted. 

“You don’t wanna come inside...?”

“Oh baby , you have no idea how bad I wanna come inside.....but not like this” He brushed the hair off my brow, kissing my forehead...” Ask me again when you’re sober and we’ll work something out. Now let’s get you into bed.” 

I groaned as he dragged me into the bedroom. 

The moment my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!~

Author’s note : Not me falling in love with the second lead in my own story ugh.  He’s gonna get a separate story. I’m gonna write a whole entire fic for CFO! Jungkook , adorable single dad of cute little girl. 

I don’t have a tag list for this fic so please do let me know if you want to be tagged !!! 

#taehyung smut #taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #bts au #bts fanfics #bts smut

[anncanta]

Ouroboros

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @khyruma @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges

Read on AO3

Or read below

Reflections of flame splashed across the walls in golden arabesques.

A naked man, covered in blood and slime, bent over to Agatha and stared at her.

‘One. It doesn't take much. One of them is enough for me to get inside,’ he said in an insinuating tone, holding up a long finger with a pointed nail.

‘You have it,’ Agatha said before she could grasp the meaning of her words.

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘I'll go with you if you leave them alone,’ she added, suppressing the panic that flared in her chest.

Squinting, Dracula tilted his head.

‘Leave them?’

Agatha nodded silently.

He stepped to the right, stopped, looking at the still-standing nuns with stakes in trembling hands.

‘So many possibilities... So many different tastes,’ he drawled slowly. ‘Why do you think you are worth all of them?’

Oh, she didn't think so. That's why she offered herself, Lord. Agatha thought feverishly.

‘All these women... have renounced earthly pleasures. They renounced desires, occupations, everything that makes up an ordinary life. What kind of memories will you get from them?’ Seeing the doubt on Dracula's face, she said quickly. ‘Stories of hard work, fasting, and prayer?’

Dracula ran a finger over his lips in thought.

‘The Mother Superior has a bad heart,’ Agatha continued, avoiding looking back. ‘Do you want to try aching pain and bitter herbal infusions?’

He was silent, and this gave Agatha confidence.

‘I saw a lot, learned a lot while traveling in my youth. I read many books and met different people. I know three languages, and... and in the end, if you eat me, you will learn something!’ She concluded angrily.

A completely boyish smile blossomed on Dracula's face.

Taking a step back to Agatha, he held out a blood-smeared hand.

Without giving herself time to be frightened and change her mind, Agatha put her hand in it. Very slowly, Dracula moved, dragging her along, until the gates of the monastery were behind her.

‘Agatha Van Helsing,’ Dracula said, looking into her eyes. ‘I'll make you last.’

With these words, he turned around and, still holding her hand in his, moved forward. After walking a few meters, he frowned and turned around.

‘You have a hungry vampire in your cell on the third floor. And with him is a wounded woman. If you want to save one of them, choose – whom and take care of it.’

***

It was cold in the castle.

Agatha did not remember when she was so cold. There were cold nights in the monastery; in especially harsh winters, the Mother Superior canceled evening services, because the floor and walls in the chapel were covered with frost. ‘The Lord will forgive me for such heresy,’ she said, ‘but He will not forgive me if, out of ostentatious obstinacy, I allow my neighbors to catch a cold and die.’ Many sisters condemned her. Agatha just smiled.

Finding herself in Dracula's castle, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she had never known anything about the cold before.

Agatha froze on the stairs, chattered her teeth in the room, shook in the corridors. She was chilly in the hall, shivering at the table in the main hall. And she considered it a blessing since there was a burning fireplace in the main hall.

The cold ate her food, making its way under the skin, forcing her to ruffle and walk from corner to corner. In motion, she slightly warmed up. Tired, she sat down to take a breath – and it all started all over again.

It seemed, Dracula did not notice her discomfort. Or rather, not that he noticed her. As far as Agatha could understand from their conversations (the conversations were a little distracting from the cold, so she tremendously appreciated them), he was preparing to move to England and was completely carried away by his daily affairs. When Agatha could not stand it and complained that because of the cold air in the room she could not sleep, he invited her to close the windows for the night, and the next evening he brought a sheepskin blanket. But the sheepskin stank so terribly that it overcame even the fear of dying of a cold.

With this something needs to be done, wandering half asleep at night along the corridor, thought Agatha. She herself did not know where she was going, but it was unbearable to stay in her room. It would be better if he killed her right away, she mused wearily. Anything is better than such torment.

The question of why Dracula still did not touch her worried her most of all – after the cold. When they got to the castle, Agatha waited for a hideous scene, perhaps right in the lobby or in the main hall, and honestly prepared herself to die with dignity.

After closing the large wooden door behind them, Dracula pointed to Agatha in the direction of the stairs, briefly explained how to get to the guest room, and turned around and left. And she remained – confused, tired and frightened – more than she was ready to admit to herself.

Agatha quickened her pace as she passed the grim portrait on the right wall.

Dracula was not distinguished by restraint and self-control. She could be convinced of this in the monastery. It seemed a miracle that he had not eaten her on the first evening, but it could be attributed to his own tiredness and satiety with the impressions of the cruel game. But couldn't he later...

She turned a corner and, rounding an antique cupboard, moved on until she stopped in front of a large black barrier. Agatha almost swore – wandering half asleep, it seems, she came to the bedroom of Dracula himself.

‘Do you go out at night, Sister Agatha?’

She looked up.

‘What do you want me to do? I still can't sleep. In my room…’

Dracula gave her a thoughtful look and pushed open the massive door.

‘You can sleep with me,’ he shrugged. ‘I have a blanket too.’

‘Sheepskin?’ Agatha asked resignedly.

‘A wool blanket,’ Dracula replied. He entered the room, leaving the door ajar.

Agatha stood on the threshold for a while and hesitantly stepped inside.

The room was spacious with a high ceiling. The fireplace was off, but a thick woolen blanket covered the large bed with a massive canopy. A door ajar in the far corner led into another room – perhaps a parlor or a library.

‘Aren't you sleeping in a stone sarcophagus?’ Agatha asked, looking at Dracula, who was sitting on the bed.

‘Only when I get tired of society,’ he smiled. ‘No,’ he continued in response to the look of impatient displeasure on her face. ‘I don't need the sarcophagus for sleep. This is an ancient tomb with a substrate from the Transylvanian soil. I sleep in it when I want to heal my wounds. The day before Jonathan found me there, I ran into peasants in the woods.’

‘I hope they beat you properly,’ Agatha said sincerely, going up to one of the chairs by the fireplace and sinking into it. And she shuddered – the leather upholstery was cold as ice. Only pride prevented Agatha from jumping up immediately.

Dracula, watching her from his seat, said nothing. He kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed, and threw back the covers to his right.

‘Well, are you going?’

The chair creaked under Agatha, who was leaning back.

‘Are you seriously offering me?..

‘I offer you a blanket,’ interrupted Dracula. ‘The only warm wool blanket in this room,’ he reminded indifferently. ‘I am ready to share with you a cozy bed,’ Dracula paused. ‘Or did you expect me to give it up to you and sleep in an armchair?’

Agatha, who had expected exactly that, remained silent with dignity.

‘If you don’t want to, stay where you are,’ Dracula shrugged his shoulders and pulled the blanket higher. ‘You will get warm from the candle on the table. Good night, Sister Agatha.’ He turned away and closed the bed curtain.

Agatha sat in confusion for a while. Her first impulse was to immediately get up and leave. But that would have strengthened Dracula's confidence in the victory of his irrepressible ego, so she just straightened angrily and lifted her nose.

It didn't last long, however.

How did anyone manage to survive in this castle, she thought irritably, getting out of the chair and stretching her arms and legs, numb from sitting in the same position and cold. Not surprisingly, the only inhabitant here is a vampire.

She cautiously walked forward as quietly as she could, approached the curtain of the bed, and pushed it back.

Dracula looked peacefully asleep and did not seem to hear her maneuvers.

For a moment Agatha gazed suspiciously at the impassive beautiful face, and then, having made up her mind and as if diving into the water, threw back the blanket and ducked under it.

The warmth that seized her almost immediately stunned Agatha. She had not felt the usual, physical warmth for so long. She missed it for so long and so desperately. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to completely immerse herself in it.

At first, the man's hands dropped on her shoulders do not distract her at all. Agatha lies there, enjoying the warmth and comfort, the long-awaited opportunity to let go of the tension, and the soft embrace of someone seems like a casual dream. Until...

‘Why are you warm?’ Agatha asks, opening her eyes.

She lies straight without moving. Escape still will not work.

‘What's so strange about that?’ Dracula's voice with a quiet breath – fleeting, unnecessary – slides down her cheek.

‘The books say that vampires…’

‘You read too much,’ he grins. ‘I am the same... in general, a living organism, like any other. Like a human being. Agatha, think,’ Dracula added impatiently, grabbing her with his left hand tighter, ‘I need food.’

‘Everything that eats gives off heat,’ Agatha murmured thoughtfully.

Dracula grunted approvingly. Again, his breath bit her lightly – now at the top of her neck.

‘If you're going to eat now…’ she began hoarsely.

‘Now I'm going to sleep,’ Dracula interrupted her. He moved, pulling her closer to him, literally surrounding her.

He was warm and large. Dangerous and predatory, Agatha reminded herself. The fear that accompanied her all this time in the castle again doused her with an icy wave – and retreated.

‘Why?’ Agatha asked Dracula, not knowing what.

‘Because I'm a vile, unpredictable monster,’ Dracula purred. ‘Sleep, Agatha,’ he said and buried his nose in her neck.

Asleep, she realized, dumbfounded.

For a couple of minutes Agatha lay, listening to the silence and rare breathing of Dracula, until, warming up and finally exhausted, she also fell asleep.

***

Agatha woke up contented and refreshed. Stretching slowly, she got up and turned on the other side. And then she froze in fright. She sat down sharply and looked around.

She was in her room, lying in bed. Turning her head, Agatha frowned. She clearly remembered that she had fallen asleep in the Count's bedroom. Did she dream about it, or what?

No, she was not dreaming, thought Agatha, absentmindedly running her hand over the wool blanket in which she had wrapped herself so greedily the day before. Again she glanced across the room and stared at the fireplace.

The fireplace was lit and the wood crackled softly in it.

Agatha rubbed her face wearily with her hands. What a stupid game? Climbing out of bed, she went to the fireplace. A uniform heat emanated from the scarlet flame.

Everything that had happened to her over these weeks collapsed on Agatha at once, and she realized that she could not go on.

...

‘Why are you torturing me?’

Standing with his back to the entrance to the great hall, Dracula turned around.

‘Good morning, Agatha,’ he said politely.

Agatha ignored the greeting.

‘Why haven't you eaten me yet?’ standing in the doorway, she asked.

Dracula looked at her attentively and silently.

‘I did not expect nobility from you. But how dare you torture me?’

‘Agatha, are you frozen over again? I must admit, when I brought you here, I didn’t take into account…’

She must have looked so miserable that he did not go on.

‘Come here.’

Now they were separated by a little less than a step. Looking up, Agatha said quietly:

‘You'd better tore me to pieces. It would be better if you grabbed my throat there, at the monastery. But to live day after day in this cold…’

‘In your room…’

Shaking her head, Agatha wiped away a tear with her hand.

‘Living day after day, waiting to be bitten... It's too much even for me. Too much even for you.’

There was a silence.

‘It's easy to sacrifice yourself in a passionate impulse,’ Agatha said wearily. ‘While you are at your peak, and fear does not torment but intoxicates. But when the fog clears and you stay... However,’ she smiled sadly and bitterly. ‘You promised to make me last.’

He looked at her for a while, squinting.

‘What did Jonathan tell you?’

Agatha grimaced.

‘That you came to him at night... He fell asleep, he dreamed of Mina... And then it turned out that it was you.’ Agatha hesitated. ‘You were then…’

‘I was old then.’

‘I do not think that something would have changed if you were young.’

Dracula laughed.

‘Who knows.’

He brushed aside the hair from her left shoulder and asked:

‘What exactly scares you?’

‘Why do you need this?’

‘As far as I could figure out, there are two types of visions of victims – what a person desperately wants, and what he or she is afraid of.’

‘Jonathan missed his fiancée,’ Agatha said.

‘And his feelings brought to life a fantasy of a night of love. If you see what you want,’ Dracula smiled, ‘the image of myself with an aspen stake in my chest awaits me. I'll get over it. But I don't want to be part of your nightmares.’

‘Does it spoil the taste?’

Instead of answering, he ran his finger along her nose, from nasal bridge to the tip.

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ he said cheerfully and bent down to her neck.

Her vision was clouded with fog, Agatha felt cold, then hot, then everything began to spin...

Opening her eyes, she found that she was lying on a huge bed, naked, and Dracula, completely naked, hung over her.

For a couple of long moments, Agatha just silently looked into his eyes.

‘Sorry, I didn’t understand,’ Dracula said. ‘Is it a wish or a nightmare?’

#dracula 2020 #bbc dracula #count dracula #agatha van helsing #dragatha

[if-youd-only-try]

interrupted holiday kisses [owen patrick joyner]

words: 1902

summary: Y/N and Owen go to the complete middle of nowhere, wanting to relax, but someone prevents them from doing so

warnings: just a lot of kissing

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with fresh mountain air. A dreamy smile appeared on your face as a light gust of wind moved your strands of hair slightly, and the leaves of the trees rustled quietly. You closed your eyes for a moment and leaned against the railing, listening to the sounds of the forest around you.

A few seconds passed and you lifted your eyelids again to look at the surface of the lake, located about two hundred meters from the summerhouse you were currently staying in. The corners of your mouth gradually rose higher and higher. You've been looking forward to this trip for so long... You finally had a few days to yourself and you were going to dedicate them to your dream relaxation.

After a few moments, you heard a quiet creak behind you that reminded you that you weren't alone after all. Out of the corner of your eye you glanced at the entrance to the terrace. Standing in the doorway was Owen, who had most likely already finished carrying your luggage into the upstairs bedroom. His lips curved in a slight but extremely warm smile. Literally the same one he gave you when you first met.

"This is where you hide..." he said, moving closer to you. You straightened up slowly, still leaning against the railing you let him hug you from behind. The boy rested his chin on your shoulder and gently kissed your cheek.

"I'm not hiding at all." you laughed softly, stroking his hand tenderly, now resting on your stomach." I just started enjoying the views already. They're great." you sighed.

"Fact..." he agreed with you and together you started looking around.

A complete silence fell between you, broken only by the sounds of nature. Neither of you were bold enough to speak up.

"It's really nice of your friend to let us spend some time here." you muttered softly as Owen gently brushed his lips against your neck.

"To tell you the truth... He had quite a worried look on his face when he agreed to this." he replied, and you turned to face him. "I have a feeling Charlie's up to something. After all, this house is his. You don't know if he hasn't hidden some traps here..." he added, seeing your questioning expression, to which you laughed quietly and patted him gently on the chest.

"Don't overdo it, honey. Admittedly, I don't know him, but I think you shouldn't doubt his good intentions. But let's not talk about others... This week will be ours alone." you whispered, giving the blonde a gentle smile. Owen leaned over you and brought your lips together in an affectionate kiss, which you took as agreement with your words.

The first day of your trip was spent getting acquainted with the building, and you also took a little walk around the neighborhood. You were to spend this entire week in a complete remote area, where the nearest store was several kilometers away from you. This fact, however, only pleased you more. For you wanted a break not only from work but also from other people. You didn't return from your walk until evening, when the sun had already hidden behind the mountain tops. Because you didn't anticipate that the temperature would drop significantly at night, you didn't dress properly, which resulted in you getting quite cold.

To your relief, you remembered that Owen had chopped wood earlier, so you could light the fire. While the blond took care of lighting the fire, you went to the kitchen where you prepared warm cocoa for. It was your favorite drink and you often drank it together. When you returned to the living room, the boy was just getting up from his knees so he could sit comfortably on the couch. You reached over to him, handing him the cup at the same time, and he wrapped a blanket around you that was lying next to you and pulled you close. You snuggled into his chest, smiling at him.

"That's how I could spend every evening." Owen muttered, gently stroking your shoulder, then drank some cocoa from his cup.

"Anyone? And wouldn't it be better to spice some of them up a bit?" you asked, smiling flirtatiously at the same time, to which the blond man glanced at you.

You set your cup down on the small table in front of you and turned to face the boy. He also put down his cup and after a while you were lying on the couch, kissing passionately and gradually undressing. Soon, however, you were able to enjoy the moment, for something began to make a persistent noise somewhere outside.

At first you tried to ignore it, but the more you tried to focus on yourself, the louder the tapping became. Owen sighed quietly and, dissatisfied with this turn of events, got up from the couch. Without even correcting his shirt, he moved towards the exit of the house, scraping the poker with him on the way.

"I'll go see what it is." he announced, leaving you alone on the couch. You rose to a sitting position and wrapped yourself in the blanket lying next to you. The blond man managed to get your shirt off you, thus leaving you in just your bra and pants.

You yourself weren't quite sure how much had passed since the boy left, but at some point you heard something knock quietly on the glass. A shiver ran down your spine and you uncertainly lifted your gaze to the curtained window. For a long moment you looked frightened in his direction, and the knocking gradually grew louder. You swallowed your saliva quietly and slowly walked closer, still covering your bare shoulders with the blanket.

You reached out your hand towards the fabric and were about to see who was knocking inside when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder. You jumped up, shouting loudly in the process, and instantly flipped backwards while taking a pretty strong swing at your opponent. If it hadn't been for Owen dodging your hand, you would have surely broken his nose.

"Relax, it's just me." he reassured you by embracing you carefully.

"Don't do that!" you yelled at him. All the fear you felt a moment ago is completely gone, giving way to anger. "It's not funny at all, Owen!"

"I spoke to you, but you didn't hear me at all and continued walking towards the window as if in a trance." he explained, wrinkling his brows slightly. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, putting his hand to your forehead, wanting to see if you had a fever. You, meanwhile, were taking a series of deep breaths to calm yourself.

"I would have felt great if it wasn't for something knocking on the window... I don't know what it was because I didn't take the time to check." you replied, sitting back down on the couch. After your words, the blond man swung back the curtain and opened the window, only to lean out of it a moment later.

"There's nothing here." he announced and retreated inside. He closed the window again and sat down next to you. "Maybe you thought it?"

"Are you suggesting that I'm crazy?"

"Of course not. But I know you get scared awfully fast, and whenever the neighbors make a noise, you make up theories about the sound like a racial horror movie." he laughed quietly, and you looked at him offended. "Okay, I'm sorry. It was certainly some kind of monster. Come on." you burped, crossing your arms over your chest and completely ignoring the fact that you were still half naked from the waist up. The boy put his arm around you, pulled you close and kissed you gently on the temple. "Come on... Don't get so angry. It was probably just a twig tapping on the window in the wind... Don't worry." he said, smiling warmly at the same time. He brought his face close to your neck and began to kiss you gently on it. You involuntarily smiled slightly, and all irritation completely drained away.

"Where were we?" you muttered quietly, tilting your head to the side and allowing Owen to act more and more daringly.

"I think I still remember." replied the boy and put you on the couch again. He hovered over you, placing kisses on your collarbone again.

Finally, something started knocking on the window again. Much louder than before. You shuddered and looked in that direction with fear. The blond man followed your example, however, he wasn't the least bit scared. His face expressed extreme annoyance. He rose and with a quick step walked outside without even saying anything to you. You rose to sit up and looked at the open door, this time not even covering yourself with a blanket. For a moment you waited in suspense for what would happen next.

What was your surprise when Owen returned to the room, holding some young boy by the collar.

"Well, there goes our ghost." announced the blond man, shaking the embarrassed teenager. Only after a moment did you remember that you were in just a bra, so with a quick movement you covered yourself with the blanket. The kid laughed nervously and was already taking in air, most likely wanting to explain himself, when the front door opened and a dark-haired boy dressed in a loose T-shirt and jeans walked into the living room.

"Owen, don't torture the kid." he said as if nothing had ever happened and then settled into the chair next to the couch, casually sliding his sunglasses over his hair.

"I knew the look on your face didn't bode well, Charlie." Owen sighed irritably, then let the boy go.

Your confusion was growing and you only looked at (you guessed it) the owner of the house you were in.

"You didn't want to introduce me to your girlfriend, so I made the effort to meet her myself. I also figured, by the way, why not make a fun entrance?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders, then looked at you and smiled. "I'm Charlie Gillespie. And you're probably Y/N, our idiot's girlfriend, who I've heard so little about."

"My pleasure." you said quietly, looking at the brunet. The bewilderment still hadn't subsided, so that was the only thing you managed to get out of yourself in that moment.

"Is that all?" you heard Owen's impatient voice.

"Come on... You're chasing me out already?" asked Charlie, pretending to be offended. "From my own home?" he added, then rose from his seat. "All right... Have fun. The house is all yours. Kid, we're leaving."

"What about my money for scaring?" the kid asked.

"You'll get it right away." replied the dark-haired man and moved towards the exit.

After a while, the boy ran after him without even apologizing to you. The front door slammed quietly, you heard Charlie's car engine, and then there was complete silence.

You looked at Owen, still heavily confused, but he didn't say a word. He sat down next to you on the couch and for a long moment there was silence between you.

"You have strange friends, honey..." you said finally.

"Yeah... I know..." the blond man replied and leaned against you. You put one arm around him and kissed the top of his head.

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen joyner imagine #julie and the phantoms #imagine #charlie gillespie

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Cast Aside

That’s okay! I usually hate requests that just ask for a character, but this time I thought of something, so it’s okay!

I really hope you enjoy this scenario because it took fucking ages to write, but either way, feel free to come scream at me with your thoughts! Have a great day~

Click Me 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

  You smiled as the gentle breeze washed over you, the sound of rustling leaves filling you with such peace, you could almost forget your current troubles. It was such a shame that your life of freedom was to be cut short so soon, instead, you would be taken by the Kitsune your village worshipped. After that, it was impossible to say. You might not even survive the encounter.

  The only comfort that you were allowed was the fact that you were alone. Though unable to escape due to the wooden pillory that currently restricted your movements, you found that being surrounded by nature and not having the cruel villagers to bother you made it so much easier to accept your fate.

  Until the sound of fallen leaves crunching reached your ears. The moment you heard that sound, unmistakable panic began to fill your body, swallowing you up completely until you were struggling with all your might against the restraints that you knew would never break from your efforts.

 .

  “So, this is what humans will resort to…”

 .

  You went still the moment he entered your vision, standing tall yet relaxed, disgust apparent on his features. A kitsune with hair both as white as snow and as red as the flames you loved to stare at, at night.

  “What is your name? Little human…” He questioned, his head tilting to the side while your eyes ran over his figure, taking in the strange sight of his tails. Half white, half red. Yet the one in the middle, that you could only barely see from behind his head, was split in the middle perfectly.

  Such a strange sight to see before your life ends.

 .

  “…(Name)…”

 .

  You knew it wasn’t right, to give your name to the creature in front of you. Supposedly gods of great mischief, giving your name was practically inviting trouble to your doorstep, and yet somehow, you found yourself unbothered by the idea of the Kitsune knowing who you are, who you were before this humiliation.

  “…Your village offered up human women to my old man. Before he died. Never like this, so tell me” He paused, moving forwards to run a hand over the sturdy wood that held you hostage to the situation, the pillory burning away in an instant; leaving you completely unharmed.

  “Why are you not treated the same? Have your people grown weary?” He pressed, watching you with only the faintest hints of curiosity while you stood to your full height, rubbing at your tender wrists. Standing like that since first light had been unbelievably uncomfortable, your wrists felt like they were burning and thrashing about like you had just before certainly hadn’t helped any.

  “Are you really so interested in my story? I’m just a human” You pointed out quietly, glancing at him in time to see the slight nod of his head, a surprisingly graceful action from a kitsune that seemed so casual.

  “They don’t see me as one of them. My family, killed during the night for claims that were untrue and after that, I was captured, called a witch and punished by being declared ‘sacrifice’ for the kitsune god” You explained, your voice soft as you spared the village a quick glance; even if you couldn’t see the place you had called home all your life, you knew it was there. That they had most likely forgotten about your existence already.

  “Ridiculous. If you were really a witch, you would not have been found out, let alone caught” He scoffed, his ears flicking about from atop his head with each noise that sounded out in the seemingly peaceful clearing.

  “I have refused each offering since the passing of their so-called god. I am not my father, I will not take a human for my needs” He muttered out flatly, turning his back to you swiftly while his tails swayed about behind him. A thick, fluffy wall between the two of you.

  “But if they have casted you aside…you are welcome to come with me of your own volition.” He added, glancing back towards you while you blinked in surprise, not quite able to grasp a hold of the sudden opportunity that had been offered to you.

 .

~  ~  ~

 .

  “Is something the matter?”

 .

  You looked back at Shouto slowly, a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips while you shook your head; memories of your first encounter with the kitsune flashing through your mind. As it always did whenever you thought of the past, before you met him, before you were introduced to a life full of love and warmth.

  “No, no…it’s just…such a beautiful day” You whispered, turning your head back to look at the surrounding scenery, a silent appreciation filling you while strong arms wrapped around your midsection, pulling you back into the well-muscled chest that belonged to your one and only.

  “…Just like that day, right?” He questioned, his lips brushing up against your ear while he nuzzled you tenderly, showering you with the love and affection he would often need to assure you that you deserved. Shouto found it impossible to comprehend, just how much you struggled to love yourself. To let yourself enjoy such a quiet, happy life.

  However, he also understood that the best way for him to respond, would be to support you when you needed it most, to be there for you.

  “Mm, exactly like that day…hard to believe it’s already been five years” You let out a breath, your eyes fluttering shut while you leaned back into Shouto, silently appreciating the way he held you close.

  “Well, time does pass quickly” He reasoned, lifting you into his arms before walking off inside; causing your eyes to snap open while you squirmed within his hold, confusion setting in.

  “Shouto, what are yo—” He cut you off with a heated kiss, stealing your breath away as he always did before laying you down on the modest bed that you shared with him on the nights he didn’t spend wandering around the area.

  Your head spun as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, only to have his lips against your once again, deep and meaningful kisses distracting you while his hands explored the body that he had explored countless times before now; he most definitely was not afraid to say that he never tired of you.

  You were perfect, at least, you were in his eyes. So perfectly imperfect, human. The love of his life.

  “Just…enjoy this, let me love you”

  Before long, Shouto was between your legs, naked and pressed up against you while your arms pulled him closer still, wrapped around his neck as his lips trailed along your neck, littering your sensitive skin with kisses and playful nips.

  His hips moved at a slow yet steady pace, one that you could not rush and instead chose to enjoy, soft moans making his ears twitch each time he moved just right. It wasn’t often you could enjoy such a nice moment. Usually, he would coax you into a state of bliss before filling you with his knot until you could take no more; but occasionally, when the moment called for it, Shouto would take things slow. So that you might lose yourself in a world of warmth and pleasure, to enjoy a slow build-up of desire.

  Shouto Todoroki was not a kitsune that was very good with his emotions and stating them clearly but for you, he tried. For you, he put in that extra effort and left his comfort zone, if only to see your smile. To hear your happy voice.

 .

  “Shouto…”

 .

  He groaned out quietly at the sound of your needy whisper, his name sounding nothing short of heaven from your plump lips. He could die happy, right then and there, but instead, he merely immersed himself in your body, thrusting his hips until you were moving against him, trying to fit his knot inside of you before he was ready to fill you with his seed. A habit you had developed early on in the relationship; though he didn’t mind too much.

  It felt amazing and admittedly, made him finish faster, having you squeeze down on him like that so soon.

  “(Name), not yet…” He moaned into your ear, moving his hips just a little harder, in hopes of satisfying your need for more; he had plans for you.

  “Not yet, soon” Shouto promised quietly, his tails beginning to wrap around your body once a whine of disappointment began to build up in the base of your throat. You weren’t an omega, just a human. However, hearing such a noise set off his instincts and his instincts would always demand that he comfort you until you were happy once more.

  “Shh, soon…I promise” He whispered, closing his eyes as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, his thrusts beginning to pick up in pace as his knot throbbed, slowly swelling up while he neared his end. From the way you were moaning, whining out in protest, he could tell you were just as close and just as desperate for release as he was.

  “Inside…please? Fill me up…” You bit your lip as you spoke, face heating up in embarrassment when Shouto paused for a moment, his pace immediately picking up seconds later. It was so very rare of you to ask for that, Shouto always knotted you when he made love to you.

  Yet you rarely ever asked him for that specifically. Usually during his ruts to satisfy his instincts; there was something different about hearing it without prompt. It set something off inside of him and soon enough, he found himself burying his knot inside of you over and over again.

  Right up until the point he could no longer pull out of you, his knot throbbing as he released his seed inside of you, spurring on your orgasm; leaving you a panting mess beneath him, your body glistening from sweat in such a way, he found himself moving his hips whilst still inside of you.

  “A-Ah, S-Shouto…Shouto wait!” You moaned out as his hips continued to move, the feeling of his knot tugging at your entrance with each thrust driving you insane while he trailed kisses up along your neck, stopping only to claim your lips in one final kiss, his tongue greedily prodding at your lips; demanding you appease him by opening your mouth to him.

  He wanted every inch of you, you were his and he needed you to know that. You were Shouto’s perfect imperfection, his weakness and his strength.

  His everything.

#shouto todoroki #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #reader x shouto #reader x todoroki #kitsune au #kitsune!shouto #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests #cheeky kitsune

[heyheyloki]

Lost In Translation

Summary: Halloween Special (yes it’s a few days late whoops)

Aaron Hotchner x M!Reader

Word Count: 2409

It was finally the time for kids to dress up as their favorite superheroes, teens to disobey their parents and party, and finally, adults like you to work a case during your favorite holiday. You even prayed to god, which wasn’t something you did, like ever. But you did. You prayed that there would be no case tonight, that the bad guys would just take a break from killing and kidnapping for just one goddamn night. Sadly, your prayers weren’t answered. 

“Happy Halloween, [Name]!” Garcia shouted with glee when you walked into the meeting room. It seemed to just be the two of you for now. 

“Don’t remind me, please.” You huffed out as you plopped down in your chair. “I’m already depressed enough.”

“Why, sugar?” She asked with a saddened tone, her smile turning down.

“I was supposed to have a night of dancing with random people in masks and casually making out with whoever I pleased,” you huffed. You were so mad about the entire thing that you continued to rant to Garcia without a care. “I mean, can’t the bad guys just take a break for once? I had a whole costume picked out, right? Now, I can’t even wear it cause by the time we get back it’ll be fucking thanksgiving or something.”

You didn’t notice the expression change on Garcia’s face until you finished up, her eyes stared behind you in horror. Seriously, it was like her worst nightmare just walked through the door or something. So, your chair turned your body towards Garica’s fear to make eye contact with your boss, Aaron Hotchner. 

“Ah, well, at least this halloween isn’t totally ruined,” you hummed as a coy smirk inched across your lips as if it belonged there. “At least I get to see some type of candy.”

The absolute silence that struck the room when that left your lips was something you were used to by now, after all, you’ve been the ‘team flirt’ for a while that. The name was given to you by Hotch to make him feel better since you never did flirt with the team, just him, always.

“Watch it,” Morgan teased as he passed by Hotch. Reid was quick to join in the fun with, “Yeah, he might actually fall for it.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe that was my intention?” You questioned as you turned your attention away from your boss and to Reid and Morgan that both sat next to you at the same time.

“Damn, someone’s cranky.” Morgan said.

“I wanted my fun night of kissing random strangers at a club with masks.” You summarized what you said to Garcia. “Instead, I’m stuck hanging with the Scooby Do gang.”

Reid paused. His brows furrowed when he asked, “Scooby Do?”

You stared at him with a deadpanned look before dismissing the entire thing and getting ready for this case to be over with.

On the jet, you kept to yourself in the corner with your headphones blasting music into your brain. Some of your teammates wondered how you haven’t lost even part of your hearing yet. However, as you stared out the window with a far-out look, someone wouldn’t take his eyes off you. 

On the other side of the jet was Hotch with his eyes glued to you, almost like he couldn’t take them off of you no matter how hard he tried. To him, something about you drew him in closer even if he didn’t want to. The words and look you gave him earlier stuck in his mind as it played on repeat, over and over again until he was satisfied. Though, while in his own head, it took Rossi multiple tries to shake the man out of his daze. 

“Damn, only took me ten tries this time.” Rossi said under his breath so only Hotch heard. 

The man sighed, his eyes glancing over towards you once more before eyeing Rossi. “Sorry, I, uh, just spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?”

Rossi gave Hotch an all-knowing look, a look that spoke to him without having the older Italian man to open his damn mouth. “I was just saying that this case is probably going to make us stay for multiple nights.”

“I suppose so.” Hotch replied, not yet catching on.

“It’s in the middle of no where with a low population.” Rossi smirked. “We might have to double up.”

Aaron stared at his long term friend for a moment, his mind running without having his brown eyes show it. However, his mind danced and entertained the fantasy that he would have to double up with you. That there would be one bed. That you would allow him to share the bed with you instead of kicking him to the floor. 

“We’ll see when we get there.”

By the time the first day of investigating ended, the team had no leads and needed a place to crash for the night. The police station wouldn’t do so your team was recommended to a small motel cottage in the middle of the woods. It was cozy and yet somewhat unsettling at the same time. The kind of place were you wouldn’t want to be alone, but wouldn’t mind spending it in the arms of another. 

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan suddenly announced to the group once the owner said that she only had single rooms, and only a limited amount of them.

“Who said you were going to?” You smirked as you stared at your co-worker. It was always a trait of yours to tease Morgan or Spence, and you took any opportunity you could.

Morgan gave you a side-glance before looking down at Garcia who was on the couch in the lobby in front of him, her hand resting on his forearm before calling dibs. You saw that coming, but it was quicker than you thought it would be. 

You weren’t too fond of the idea since you had your own quirks when it came to sleeping, but you knew you had to hold off on them for your team member’s sakes. Patiently, you waited to hear who would room with who until your hears heard a loud and clear, “[Name] and Hotch can take a room, I’ll room with Reid, and JJ can room with Prentiss.”

Your eyes, as well as many others, jumped to the voice. You could feel your heart beat furiously against your chest when you saw the smirk across Rossi’s older face. It was one that was up to something, you knew that much, and you didn’t know what until you saw the fear run across Hotch’s chestnut eyes.

In your mischievous mind, you were happy. You were thrilled to be able to push the man that you pined over to his limits tonight. Though, on your logical side, you were terrified. You wanted to protest. You’d say you’d like to room with Reid or ask Garcia to switch with you. Yet, both of them at the same time made something in you anxious for the night. Anxious for the darkness to take over the room and consume you.

When Aaron and you came to the room, you were standing in the doorway with eyes staring blankly at the single bed that rest in the middle of the room. You guessed it, sure, but it was another thing to see it with a man so close next to you.

“I’ll take the floor, you can have the bed.” You hummed out. It surprised you as much as it startled Aaron. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to say something witty and making a flirtatious gesture, but for now, you rather not make him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay.” Aaron said. “You can take the bed.”

You paused. This was a chance, a chance to spit out those words and yet you remained calm and said with your back turned to him, “Okay.”

You wasted no time after that to hop into the shower. It was both a way to get away from your boss and clear your mind all in one go. The water trickled down your naked figure as you ran your fingers through your wet hair. A steady breath of oxygen left past your lips as you tried to empty your mind. Yet, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t help but think about the man you were sharing a room with tonight. Part of it sucked, and the other half didn’t. Right now though, it sucked. 

You turned off the water before placing a towel around your waist and hopped out the shower. You were about to spend some time on some well-deserved self care before you heard some clashing in the room outside. It startled you to the point where you completely forgot about your composer and ran out the bathroom with the thought of their being trouble on the other side of the door. However, instead of trouble there was just a very troubled Aaron Hotchner trying to do something about his spot on the floor. 

“What the hell!” You yelled out, his eyes immediately locking onto you without a second thought. “You scared the shit outta me, I thought something happened!”

Aaron leaned his head to the side a bit as he raised a brow. “I’m sorry?”

“You better be.” You huffed out. “Jesus, don’t do that shit to me again.”

“I won’t.” Aaron mumbled out as he tried his best to keep his eyes locked on yours. 

It was a moment before you noticed the cool air hitting your bare skin, your eyes widening as you slowly began to back into the bathroom again and stutter out, “Okay, so, uh, if you’re all good then I’m just, uh, gonna finish up real quick.”

You quickly shut the door behind you, your chest falling up and down for a few seconds before stabilizing. It took you a few seconds to get yourself together and finished up in the bathroom. Which, for Aaron, took forever. Seriously, he thought about knocking on the bathroom door and asking if he’d done something wrong. Though, before he was about to, you came out. This time with clothes. It wasn’t anything special, just a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Honestly, the two of you kind of matched with your night clothes.

When you sat on the somewhat hard bed you gazed around the room. It was so bare compared to the other hotels you’ve had during your time with this team. It was almost like you weren’t even on the job but instead having a night out with Hotchner. Honestly, the thought made your body heat up a bit. 

“They could have at least gave us a tv.” You hummed out.

“I’m not sure if they even use those here.” Hotch replied as he laid down on the floor, his eyes studying the plain ceiling above. 

Your eyes were on him from the moment he began speaking. You felt sort of sorry for the man, after all, the bed may not be the softest, but it was better than the hard floor. All of the sheets in the world could never fix something like hard tile floorboards. You knew you didn’t need him having back problems in the morning, after all, he was the team leader. Without him, you weren’t sure if this team was even a team anymore.

So, without a strain in pitch in your voice you said, “Come here.”

Now, when you said it in your mind you thought it would sound better. Aloud, it just sounded either dirty, commanding, or both. Forget about it when he lifted his head up to look at you with narrowed and confused eyes. You swear if you didn’t know any better you were either in it for a scolding or a firing. 

“Sorry,” you recovered quickly. “I mean you can share the bed with me, if you want.”

You watched the confusion leave his hardened orbs quickly. However, they were promptly replaced with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was so familiar yet unseen with him. 

“It’s alright. You can have it.” He said, though to you, it seemed forced.

You didn’t try and let that bug you too much and quickly kicked it from your thoughts. Your hand came to the sheets of the bed and patted on the sheets, calling him. “C’mon, you’ll strain your back or something if you sleep on the floor.”

Hotch hesitated. He wanted to, desperately almost. Yet, he didn’t at the same time. His yearning looks and shut down feelings around you were what got him through the day, what got him to do this job without solely focusing on you. Although, he couldn’t stop his body lift up from the floor and walk over to you, sitting down at your side.

It was silent for a moment as the tension slowly began to fill up, however, just before it overflowed you said, “What did Jack plan to be for Halloween this year?”

“I thought he was going to be Spiderman, but he changed his mind last minute.” Hotch replied.

“Yeah? To what?”

There was a small pause. Hotch looked down for a moment before gazing up into your eyes with a smile slowly coming to his face and answering, “Me. He said that I was his superhero.”

Your expression began to mirror Hotchner’s face. You knew that this Halloween was destroyed, but at least you gained some joy out of it. “That’s cute, but I’m not surprised.”

“How come?” Hotch questioned, his brows furrowing.

You leaned against Hotchner’s shoulder in a friendly and playful manner before going back to your original position. “Cause he’s got the best dad in the world.”

“Thank you,” Hotch smiled. “And, I’m sorry about this case ruining your day.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It comes with the job, I shouldn’t be surprised. However, it did save me from a night of bad choices so maybe I should be grateful.”

“Well, if it means anything, I’m happy you’re here instead.” Hotch suddenly revealed.

Your eyes flicked with mischief, your body leaned in on instinct before asking, “Yeah? Why?”

“Because,” Hotch trailed on, his eyes running between your eyes and lips. “I wouldn’t be with you right now.”

You smiled, a smile so bright that it almost took his breath away. While you felt as if the day was ruined in the beginning because of work, it was only a side affect of being able to be in his moment. To be able to be with Aaron Hotchner in this moment and finally end this childish game that caused your feelings for the man to explode like a firework.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x male reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Headcanons #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds fluff #gay male #x male reader #male reader

[skinsharpenedteeth]

Tonight, We Are Young

So as a New Year’s gift, I give to you another NYE Malex fic, because apparently I can’t help myself. I hope 2021 treats everyone better than 2020 did!

Also available on AO3!

    “This party is fucking lame,” Alex commented, watching his classmates mill around the Evans’ mini-mansion with their red Solo cups filled with vodka, rum, or whatever mixed with fruit juice or soda. He was tired of watching people grind on each other to Christina Aguilera or 50cent while was left dodging assholes like Kyle Valenti all evening. 

    “Well, what do you propose we do instead?” Michael asked, head hanging upside down from over the side of the pool table he was laying across. His eyes were half obscured by gold, glittery 2008 glasses and he smelled a little like weed and spring rain. Alex thought briefly about wanting to Spiderman kiss him while he hung like that, but stopped himself with a sharp reminder that they were ‘just friends’. 

    They’d been hanging out since Alex had offered the backyard shed for Michael’s use during the cold winter nights. He knew he was using it, but hadn’t gotten up the courage to go talk to him yet while he was there. He was afraid he’d bring his father’s attention to it if he spent too much time out there, spent too much time with another boy in a room with the vaguest notion of privacy and a bed… 

    “You wanna get out of here? I know a place…,’ Alex started, but Michael was already sitting up before Alex could finish. He rolled off his back and then jumped off the table to stand beside where Alex was still sitting cross-legged against the pool table leg. He grinned down at Alex, smile wide and sweet and making Alex blush a little like he always did when Michael looked right at him like that, and held out his hand to pull Alex up off the floor. Alex took his hand and Michael gave a helpful tug as Alex pushed his way up. It was too much, Alex was overbalancing and falling against Michael’s chest. Michael’s hand let go of Alex’s so he could grip his waist and help steady him. The blush that had been only a pink tinge at Michael’s smile flared red as his hands landed against his solid chest and he felt how close they were. 

    “Oh-OH! Watch out Guerin or he’ll take advantage of you!” a raucous yell rang out through the crowd. Alex shut his eyes and stepped back quickly, cursing the gods for creating Kyle Valenti, and also for the feeling of Michael’s hands quickly falling from his body. 

    “Fuck off, Valenti,” Michael yelled back, throwing up a middle finger. 

    “You got something to fucking say?!” Kyle yelled, obviously a little drunk, as he pushed past the intervening people and shoved Michael backwards a step or two. Alex stood shocked, not sure what was happening, when Michael shoved Kyle back. 

    “Pretty sure I said what needed saying. Why don’t you go back to ‘your boys��� and circle jerk until midnight? Make sure you ‘no homo’ before your dicks out though, or it's definitely homo,” Michael goaded, getting into Kyle’s face. Their chests were touching and they looked so close they couldn’t possibly be able to focus on one another. Alex reached out and grabbed Michael’s arm, his hands closing firmly around his bicep as he stepped close. 

    “Let’s just get out of here,” Alex pleaded, well aware of how many eyes were on them. He didn’t want this kind of attention, didn’t need to be on anyone else’s radar. 

    “Going to let your boyfriend tell you what to do, Guerin?” Kyle taunted, obviously itching for a fight. Michael looked at him for another moment before sliding his eyes over to Alex’s. Alex could see the softening around the edges of Michael’s eyes as they held contact with his and hoped he couldn’t see the fear in him. He didn’t think he was successful in hiding it, because Michael’s mouth jaw clenched and he closed his eyes in resignation.

    “Yeah, I am. Get fucked,” Michael said tiredly, not looking back at Kyle's face but backing away from him instead. He turned and headed back towards the bedroom where everyone's coats were and then to the front door with Alex hot on his heels. Alex could hear Liz cussing at Kyle half in Spanish as they left and at least felt safer knowing they would be gone before he could shake free of her to continue trying to rile Michael into a fight.

    The cold late December air hit him hard as they left the warmth of the Evans’ house and stalked towards Michael’s truck. As soon as Michael shut the driver’s door, the engine roared to life and he turned up the vents to try and make the heaters kick in quicker. Alex slid in the passenger side and quietly buckled his seat belt. 

    “So where we headin’?” Michael asked, turning to look over at him with his usual lazy grin. Alex marveled how quickly the anger and violence had drained out of him. He looked like he hadn’t just been about to throw punches. He was casual and relaxed as he slouched in his seat, wrist resting over the top of the steering wheel. Alex noted the mostly full bottle of Jack sitting next to his thigh and had an idea. 

    “Uh, once we get out of the neighborhood, hit Main going northwest,” Alex instructed, eyeing the bottle warily. He knew how he got when he was drunk, but he’d never been with Michael inebriated before. He was worried he’d say the wrong thing or touch him when he didn’t want to be touched. Drinking was easier with Maria, Liz, and Rosa because he didn’t want to kiss them or see them naked so if he collapsed with his head in a lap or held someone’s hand it was innocent. There was no intention behind it. He didn’t think he could have that same freedom with Michael. He definitely wanted to kiss and touch Michael in ways that would make his dad kick his ass if he ever found out. 

    Michael followed his quiet instructions until they were driving out past the city limits, high beams the only lights for miles around. Michael had turned on the radio and put the volume on low while he waited for Alex to speak. Alex fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie, pulling them taut on one side and then the other, his leg bouncing rhythmically against the bottom of the foot well. Silently, still watching the road, Michael reached over and curled his fingers around Alex’s knee. Alex froze, staring wide eyed at Michael’s hand, before he let it slip off Alex's leg and rest between them on the bench seat. He looked up and saw Michael darting a grin over at him. 

    “So where are we going?” Michael asked, leaving his hand between them and making Alex ache with how much he wanted to reach over and cover it with his own. 

    “There’s a place not too far from here where my brothers and I used to build bonfires. I figured we’d go set some shit on fire for awhile,” Alex replied, a little self-consciously. Would Michael think this was dumb?

    “Cool,” he answered, his fingers starting to tap on the bench seat. Alex watched his fingers for a moment, marveling at how square and even his nails were and how perfect his knuckles seemed to be before turning his attention back to the road. He was getting distracted and they were getting close to where the turn off was. 

    “There’s going to be a sign pretty soon that says Camp Honor. It’s going to be over here on the left. That’s the turn we make. Then there’s a fork about two miles in and we’ll take the right fork,” Alex rattled off, wishing they were already parked so he could take a shot of bourbon to calm his nerves. He actually hoped Michael had some more weed on him. A joint would help put him to ease. 

    “Camp Honor?” Michael asked, shooting Alex a curious look, eyebrow raised.

    “It’s a hunting camp. There’s no season right now, so no one will be around,” Alex replied. At least he hoped there was no season that time of the year. He hadn’t been up there since he was fourteen and that had been its own disaster he’d like to never remember. 

    The truck bounced over the ruts and hills in the barely discernible road up to the fire pit. Alex sincerely hoped that the tradition of hauling all the fallen branches and detritus from around the cabin and hunting grounds had kept up in the years since he’d been the one sent out to do most of it. They rolled up to a clearing and Alex could make out the fallen trees they’d moved to make places for them to sit around the pit. 

    “Go ahead and park. This is the place,” Alex said, turning to Michael and putting a hand on his arm as if he weren’t paying attention. Michael slowed the truck and put it in park. He peered through the darkness. 

    “You know, when you said you knew a place I was imagining… something different,” Michael said as he continued to look skeptically at what little was illuminated by the truck’s headlights. Alex rolled his eyes and pushed open his door. As soon as his Docs hit the ground, he was excited to see how high he could get the flames. Bonfire night had been the only night he looked forward to when he’d been forced to do long camping trips with his brothers and the Valenti’s. He went ahead and walked forward towards the pit, hoping against hope there was a stack of wood in its sunken sand floor. When he got to the edge, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and then looked over to Michael and grinned broadly. 

    “Let's get this thing lit and then you can turn off your headlights,” Alex said excitedly, carefully making his way down into the shallowly dug ten by ten dirt bowl they used for fire nights. He checked over the wood and was glad to see he should be able to get away with just lighting the thing up. His brothers or Kyle must be planning to come out here soon. He took a small, sadistic pleasure in knowing he’d get to use it before they would and they’d have to go get chopped wood from the cabin and haul it out here if they wanted a fire. He patted his pockets and fished out a lighter from the pocket of his black skinny jeans. He flicked it a couple times before it caught and then he carefully moved his hand down through a gap in the wood until he could catch the tiny yellow flame on the tinder. As it caught, he carefully extracted his hand and started gently blowing air towards the flame. When it started to catch and spread, he stood back up and watched it, feeling oddly proud about starting the easiest fire of his life. When he turned, Michael was smiling at him fondly. 

    “Guess I’ll go turn off my headlights so I don’t drain the battery and we can roll out of here later,” he commented, turning and clapping his hand over Alex’s chest before letting it slide away as he started back towards his car. Alex tried to ignore the thrill he felt at Michael’s affectionate gesture and instead concentrated on the way his breath fogged as he exhaled and how cold his hands were even stuffed in his pocket. The fire was slowly getting going, but it would be a while before it was truly letting off heat to warm them. 

    Scuffing behind him alerted him of Michael’s return and he turned to see him sitting on the edge of the fire ring, whiskey uncapped, and being raised to his lips. Alex went and sat next to him, leaning towards the warmth that radiated off his body almost unconsciously. When Michael passed him the bottle, he took a healthy swig, coughing as he handed it back. 

    “Fuck, how do people drink that shit?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and trying vainly to hide his grimace and watering eyes. 

    “Pretty sure nobody drinks for the taste,” Michael observed with a grin, watching him as he caught his breath before taking another swig from the bottle himself. He didn’t cough after his swallow and Alex felt heat infusing his cheeks at how uncool he must look to not be able to handle the burn of alcohol on his throat. 

    “I do better with vodka,” Alex said defensively, picking at the sides of his Vans as he stared at the growing fire. He toppled to the side when Michael slammed his body into him, elbows, shoulders, and hips pressed close against Alex. Alex let out a squawk of indignation, but didn’t protest when he righted himself and could feel the warmth of Michael bleeding through his too-thin layers of clothing where they touched.

    “Jesus, it’s fucking cold,” Michael hissed through gritten teeth. Alex could feel the small tremors of him shivering and he wrapped an arm around him gingerly. He waited for Michael to protest or push him away and call him a ‘fag’, but when he just huddled closer Alex relaxed against him. Alex pried the whiskey bottle out from his fingers and took another manly swallow, coughing into his shoulder when he finished.

    They stared at the fire, both shivering and sharing the bottle between them. As the alcohol and flames started to warm them, Alex felt Michael shifting more until his head was resting on Alex’s chest. Alex found himself running his fingers through Michael’s curls in fascination at how the light from the flames caught the brown ringlets and turned them to gold.

    “We really should have thought this out better,” Michael observed. 

    “Hm?” Alex asked as he stretched out his legs towards the warmth. 

    “We should have brought snacks and music and something else to do besides drink,” Michael complained, lifting himself off of Alex’s chest and sitting up. He took the bottle from Alex’s side and helped himself to another mouth full.

    “We could tell ghost stories?” Alex supplied, ready for the incredulous look Michael gave him. It still made him laugh when he looked over his shoulder at Alex like he was full of shit. “Well, what else would you do around a fire with someone if you didn’t have snacks or music?”

    “Depends on the someone,” Michael replied, innuendo lacing his voice and making something hot in Alex’s stomach churn, but eyes staring straight into the fire in front of them.

    “We… we can do what you do with them?” Alex offered bravely. His throat felt dry and he was pretty sure he was going to die. Did he really just say that to Michael? Michael looked over at him consideringly and handed him the bottle. 

    “We are,” Michael replied shortly. Alex shriveled a little in embarrassment, but he took the bottle and dutifully took a sip, trying to shift his body away so it wasn’t leaning quite as fully on Michael’s. Alex capped the bottle and put it in the dirt between legs before leaning back onto his elbows to stare up at the stars. 

    “Why did you stop me from hitting Valenti?” Michael asked a few minutes later. Alex had been staring at the stars, enjoying the heat on his legs from the fire. He tipped his head back down to see Michael half turned and staring at him. 

    “What do you mean, why? He’s a fucking tool and not worth the effort,” Alex spit out. He didn’t really want to think about Valenti right then. 

    “He deserves to get his fucking head knocked off,” Michael replied heatedly, turning back to stare at the fire. Alex looked at the back of his head for a moment in confusion. 

    “Well, I agree, but why do you care what he says?” Alex asked, a little unsure what answer he was hoping for. Michael looked back over his shoulder at Alex for a split second before snorting and looking back at the fire. 

    “You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. I just hate seeing him treat you like shit because of his own insecurities. You’re not his punching bag. You deserve to be treated better.”

    Alex sighed and looked back up at the stars. The sky was starting to spin a little so he let himself collapse all the way down onto his back. Without looking, he reached out and grabbed the back of Michael’s jacket and tugged him until he was laying down also. Their shoulders were overlapping despite the fact that they each had room to move. Tentatively, heart pounding so hard Alex could swear he heard it in his ears, he moved his hand over to press against Michael’s. He held his breath and waited, tensing as if he were going to be hit, but when it never came he let the air out of his lungs slowly. Then he felt Michael move his hand and in a gesture born more of instinct than finesse, scoop his hand up and thread their fingers together. Alex’s heart beat double time, practically in his throat, as he tried to relax into the warm hold Michael had on his fingers. 

    He stared at the sky, but he didn’t see the stars anymore. He was too hyper aware of the dry, brittle grass poking into the back of his hand and the way there seemed to be sweat collecting in his palm from the heat between them and the way the tips of his fingers were numb with cold, and how tightly and perfectly their fingers seemed to fit around each other… There wasn’t any part of his brain that wasn’t thinking about how much he wanted the rest of their bodies to fit together as well as their hands did. Then Michael started shifting around. 

    “What are you doing?” Alex asked, looked over at him in concern. He tried to move his hand, but Michael’s grip tightened slightly so he let it rest back where it was. Michael was digging around in his jacket pocket and flapping his arm about as he tried to dislodge his hand from the too-small opening. 

    “Lemme borrow your lighter,” Michael asked, still distracted by getting his hand out of his pocket. Alex furrowed his brow, but slipped his hand into the jean pocket with the lighter and then held it out for Michael to take. When he finally freed his hand, Alex watched him put a rolled joint between his lips and then take the lighter from him. He lit the end and inhaled deeply before passing it over to Alex. Alex did the same and they both laid and slowly let out their breaths at the same time. Immediately, Alex’s head felt lighter. 

    “Wanna shotgun one?” Alex asked on his next turn with the joint. Michael rolled onto his elbow, letting go of his hand in the process, and looked down at him with a shiteating grin. 

    “If you wanted me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask,” he snarked. Before Alex could squirm with embarrassment or deny that’s what his aim was, Michael plucked the joint from Alex’s fingers, took a deep inhale, and swooped down to seal his lips over Alex’s. Alex gasped at the unexpected contact, filling his mouth and lungs with smoke and causing him to cough reflexively. When he felt Michael’s weight shift, his body tensing to back away, he brought his hand to the back of Michael’s neck, keeping him in place as he breathed the smoke out through his nose. Michael froze and Alex squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to all the Gods he didn’t believe in as he tentatively started moving his lips. At first, it was just the drag of his own lips against Michael’s, slightly dry from the pot smoke and desert air, but then… then it was like Michael melted into him. His body relaxed back to partially rest his weight over Alex’s, his lips pressing harder and his tongue swiping invitingly over Alex’s. Alex surged into it, desperate to keep kissing him, to stop thinking for a while and just let things happen. His brain had other ideas. 

    First, he had to figure out what to do with his hands. The one on the back of Michael’s neck was nice, but the one lying on the ground between them… did he put it on his arm? On his chest? Lower? Much lower? As they kissed, he experimentally put it on Michael’s chest, fascinated by how he could feel his heart beating even through his shirt. In response, he felt Michael’s hand curling around his waist over his clothes. Dimly, Alex wondered what had happened to the joint, but he found he didn’t really care as long as Michael kept kissing him. Alex started to move his hand up Michael’s neck. He wanted to touch his curls again, tangle his fingers in them and maybe tug a little as they kissed, but Michael pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted, eyes wide and imploring as they looked down into Alex’s. Alex felt shock jolt through his system, making his fingers tingle as he stared up into Michael’s face. He weakly worked his mouth, trying to find the words to respond. ‘Why?’, ‘It’s okay’, and ‘Don’t be’ came to mind, but he didn’t know which one to actually say. “I just mean… you didn’t ask for all that.”

“I didn’t mind,” Alex finally answered in a quiet voice. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and took it as a good sign that Michael hadn’t moved off him. Slowly, he raised his head as far as he could and pressed an opened mouth kiss onto Michael’s lower lip. He pulled back to do it again, and Michael’s eyes fluttered closed. The hand at Alex’s waist tightened briefly and that was all the warning Alex got before Michael’s mouth was pushing against his. This time Alex let himself sink into the feeling. He let his hands roam wherever they wanted to, let his mouth move against Michael’s, tongues touching and fleeing, let Michael shift and press a leg between his which felt better than it had any right to with so many layers of clothes between them. 

Alex let out an unmanly yelp against Michael’s mouth when his cold fingers found their way under his layers of jacket, hoodie, shirt, undershirt and touched the bare skin of his stomach. Gooseflesh immediately erupted over his chest and back and he felt his nipples tighten at the shock of the cold. Michael was snickering into his shoulder as he continued to move his hand over Alex’s stomach and Alex continued to whine and flinch away from his touch. 

“Stop it! Oh my God your hands are so fucking cold! Quit, quit, quit,” Alex yowled, making a grab for Michael’s hand and finding himself in a short grappling match. It ended up with him pinning Michael against the cold earth with his wrists beside his head as Alex straddled his waist. He bared his teeth at him in a fiendish grin. 

“I win,” he said simply. Michael laughed again, body relaxed under Alex’s. 

“Did you?” Michael asked, moving his hips in a way that suggested he was settling in, but definitely brushed his half chub against Alex in a way he couldn’t miss. Alex felt a flash of panic as he realized he didn’t know how to flirt like that, how to be casual and cool and sexy in the face of someone else actually desiring him. He let go of Michael’s hands and rolled off to sit next to him. He hoped the firelight was dim enough that Michael didn’t see the blush on his cheeks as he grabbed for the abandoned whiskey bottle and uncorked it to grab a sip. Michael sat up and watched him before taking the bottle and slugging down his own drink. 

“That wasn’t a demand, ya know?” Michael said, voice subdued as he watched the fire burning down. 

“I know,” Alex replied, feeling his cheeks heat up more. He pulled his knees up towards his chest and hugged them as he stared awkwardly at the fire, wishing he could go back to five minutes ago when they were pressed against each other and their mouths were all that mattered. From the corner of his eye, he could see Michael turn to look at him and he kept his eyes trained forward with every ounce of his being. 

“You wanna head back in? It’s getting really cold,” Michael asked. He was giving Alex an out and Alex didn’t know if he felt grateful for it or annoyed. 

“There’s a cabin not too far from here. Let’s go there. We can build another fire inside and just sleep there. Neither of us should be driving right now,” Alex offered, noting exactly how spinny the world was when he closed his eyes. 

“You’re probably right. Is this like… a place you’ve been before? Is it abandoned or something?” Michael asked, sounding nervous and wary. 

“No, it’s not abandoned. Kyle’s dad owns it,” Alex explained. 

“VALENTI’S DAD?!” Michael exclaimed, laughing and shaking his head. “No way are we staying there. Holy shit, I can just imagine how bad that would be if we got found.”

“No, no, no. Sheriff Valenti and my dad are old friends. Mr. Valenti loves me. He’s given me, like, blanket permission to use the cabin whenever I need to. It’s fine,” Alex said, distracted by Michael’s mini-freak out enough to turn and hold his shoulders while he explained. “We won’t get in trouble. It’ll be fine. Sheriff Valenti is the exact opposite of my dad.”

Michael sat and looked at him, as if he could see the future and gauge whether the risk was worth the reward. 

“Besides, we’d really be fucked if he caught us driving home this fucked up. He’d be happier knowing we didn’t try to operate a motor vehicle while under the influence. Seriously, it’ll be fine.”

“Man, okay. You sure it’d be fine?” Michael asked again, still looking like a rabbit ready to bolt. 

“Dude, it’s fine. Let’s douse this with some sand and we’ll roll down there,” Alex said, standing up and holding his hand out to Michael. 

“Thought we shouldn’t be driving?” Michael asked sarcastically. 

“I mean, if you want to walk a mile in this cold, that’s fine, but I think you can be reasonably responsible to drive a mile in the middle of the night down a dirt road one mile per hour about idle. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine. We’ll walk it,” Alex offered. Michael had grabbed his arm and was poised to get pulled up, but Alex wanted to know his decision first. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. We’ll take the truck,” he said and then Alex stepped back and pulled him up to his feet. 

“Cool, then let’s throw some sand on this fire! It’s fucking cold,” Alex shouted, before going over to the bucket of sand that was always kept on the side of the fire pit and picking it up. He started slowly pouring the sand over the remaining flames while Michael went and grabbed a second bucket and took the other side of the fire to do the same. When it was dark, Michael went ahead to turn on the truck lights while Alex stirred the fire to see if any hot spots were left. By the time he was satisfied, the high beams were streaming over the edge of the fire pit and Michael was revving the engine to get it to warm up. Alex climbed out of the fire pit and got back into the truck, then slowly gave Michael directions on how to get to the cabin. When they pulled up in front of the cabin, Michael looked at it even more warily than he had the fire pit. 

“This isn’t your murder cabin, is it? We’re not going to get stabbed by some dude in a shitty sports mask if we make out some more, are we?” he asked as he followed Alex up to the porch. Alex snorted and started feeling around the top of the door frame for the extra cabin key. When he found it, he opened the door quickly and ushered them both in. He flipped one of the light switches and the living room and kitchen lights came on, giving the rustic cabin a warm, yellow glow. He looked at the fireplace and grimaced. Unlike the firepit, the cabin was not ready for a fire to be lit. Sighing, he went back outside and grabbed a handful of logs off the porch pile and shuffled them inside. 

Michael was walking around the inside rooms, looking at the walls and knickknacks scattered around. 

“Hey, where do you guys sleep?” Michael called out. Alex turned from where he was stacking logs in the fireplace to see Michael standing in the kitchen with his hands on his hips twisting around as if another doorway would suddenly appear. 

“There’s another building that’s a bunk house,” Alex explained, turning back to the fire. 

“Are we going to sleep in there?” Michael asked, his voice coming closer. Alex could feel the vibration in the floor as he got closer and then the warmth of him standing behind him. Alex grabbed a rolled piece of fire starter from the box they kept nearby. He pushed it into the middle of the logs and grabbed a punk to light with his lighter. He pushed it against the fire starter and blew a little, waiting until he saw the fire starter catch before withdrawing the punk and throwing it on top of the logs. When that was finished, he turned to consider his options. He didn’t really want to run both fireplaces in the cabin. He’d have to clean them both out in the morning and that seemed like far too much work. 

“Let’s go grab a couple mattresses off the bunks and drag them in here. We can push them together and cover them with blankets and stuff…if that’s cool with you?” Alex asked, looking up at Michael who’d been watching him work with the fire. 

    “That’s fine. I’ve got a couple sleeping bags in the truck I can bring in. We can use them as extra padding or extra cover,” he offered. Alex nodded and they smiled at each other. It was oddly wholesome, like they were just having a sleepover and nothing else. 

    They went out to the bunk house and Alex used the key to unlock the door. They grabbed a couple of the twin mattresses off the closest bunks and hauled them on their shoulders over to the main cabin. They put them on the floor next to one another and then while Michael went to his truck for the sleeping bags, Alex went back to the bunk house for pillows and some extra blankets. By the time they’d made their nest, the fire had warmed up the room to something almost near comfortable. Alex shrugged off his coat and hoodie, throwing them onto the couch, and then toed off his shoes before stepping onto the thin, cheap camp mattresses. 

    “You’re going to sleep in your jeans?” Michael asked incredulously. Alex looked down at himself and then at Michael. He had planned on it, but not if Michael wasn’t. He was already unbuttoning them as he gave his retort. 

    “What if I get cold?” he asked, trying to balance on one leg and work the skinny leg of his jeans off his foot with the other. 

    “I promise, I’ll keep you warm. I’ve been told I run hot,” Michael joked, stripping down to his boxers and nothing else. Alex tried not to get caught staring at him, but it was so much skin and he hadn’t mentally prepared himself for it. When Michael turned to pick up one of his fallen socks from when he’d chucked his clothes onto the couch, Alex got too distracted and ended up toppling over onto the mattress with only one leg free from his jeans. Michael looked over at him and grinned like he knew what had caught his attention. He reached over and grabbed Alex’s foot, swinging him around so he could work the other jean leg down around Alex’s foot. 

    “These are really not conducive to getting naked quickly,” Michael commented as he tugged and pulled at the denim to get them to slide down over Alex’s calf and heel. 

    “I wasn’t really expecting to need to get naked quickly tonight,” Alex snapped, bending his knee to pull it out of the jean leg. 

    “Didn’t have plans to be naked at midnight with someone?” Michael teased, tossing the jeans aside when they’d finally gotten them all the way off. Alex snorted indelicately and watched Michael drop to his hands and knees on the mattress beside him. He pulled his pillow over from the other side of the mattress until it touched Alex’s. 

    “Not really. I was just hoping to get a kiss,” Alex said distractedly while watching Michael curiously as he started arranging the covers to his liking. Michael looked up at the wall clock.

    “We were probably making out at midnight. I think you got your wish,” he commented before dropping onto his side next to Alex. Alex felt a spasm of shock go through him. He hadn’t realized it was so late, that they’d missed the turning of the clock from one year to the next. He turned onto his side and faced Michael, looking him over thoughtfully. 

    “Happy New Year,” he said, smiling and running his hand down Michael’s arm affectionately. Michael spared a glance at his arm and then leaned in, pressing his mouth to Alex’s in a sweet, open kiss that made something in Alex draw tight with need. 

    “Happy New Year,” Michael breathed against his lips when they parted for breath. This time Alex felt bold, felt like it had to be more than a fluke of the fire and whiskey if they’d kissed twice over so many hours. He slipped his hand around Michael’s back and pulled their bodies closer together while sweeping his tongue across Michael’s to beckon him to kiss him deeper. Now there were fewer layers, less guessing, and more to explore for Alex’s hands as they kissed. He couldn’t get enough of the swell of Michael’s shoulder blades or the sharp curve of his hip bone, or the way his stomach felt as it bumped against his when they drew in deep breaths before diving back into each other. He was drowning in it, drowning in Michael touching him back, exploring his body too, and when he ran his hand under the leg of Alex’s boxers and grabbed his ass to grind their bodies together? Alex saw nirvana. It was the best thing he’d felt outside of his own hand. 

    “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Michael breathed, kissing over Alex’s jaw to his ear. Alex nodded, but he was too caught up in how hot and hard Michael’s dick felt through his boxers as it slid along the inside of his hip and wondering if he could get his hand on him, if he could put his mouth on him…

    “You ever do this before?” Alex managed to gasp before slipping his fingers under the waistband of Michael’s underwear. 

    “Yeah,” Michael replied with a embarrassed, proud grin, “but not like with a…”

    “A guy?” Alex supplied as Michael trailed off. They both let out a burst of embarrassed, hysterical giggles.

    “Yeah, a guy. But also, not with someone I like as much as I like you,” he finished, bringing Alex’s face back to his so he could see the sincerity in his words. Alex felt like he’d been given a birthday present and kicked in the gut at the same time. He smiled slowly at Michael’s words and leaned in to kiss him, softly, sweetly, and with all the emotion he could muster but couldn’t put into sentences. 

    “I like you, too,” he managed after a few more kisses. 

    “I would certainly hope so,” Michael joked, bringing his hand between them to gently squeeze the line of Alex’s prick through the thin jersey material of his boxers. Alex glanced down and could see the dark spot at the tip of his cock. He looked at Michael’s underwear and was relieved to see a similar stain starting on his own underwear. 

    “What do you want to do tonight?” Alex asked breathily as he ran a finger lightly up the length of Michael’s hard on. His hips twitched in response to the stimulation and Alex felt a hunger for more rise in him at the motion. 

    “I… I don’t know? M-maybe, hand jobs?” Michael stuttered, his eyes drifting closed as Alex moved forward to kiss his neck and chest while his hand continued to softly pet his cock. Alex watched in fascination as his hand framed Michael’s covered dick while he stroked over the fabric. He wanted more to do more, wanted to see him, taste him, make him feel good. 

    “I think I want to try giving you a blow job,” Alex said almost absentmindedly. He heard Michael’s sharp, quiet gasp and his eyes came up to meet his. 

    “You want to?” Michael asked, eyes pleading that he say ‘yes’, but voice making it clear that Alex could say ‘no’ without any repercussions. 

    “Yeah, is that okay?” Alex asked, trying to convey the same thing with his eyes as he waited for Michael’s verdict. 

    “I mean, yeah, of course. I… have you ever done this before?” Michael asked hesitantly. 

    “No, but I mean… I’ve watched porn. I’ve done my research. How hard can it be?” Alex asked, starting to scoot his body down so he could more easily access Michael’s dick. 

    “Oh, just thinking about it makes it very hard,” Michael replied cheekily. Alex shot him an amused, appreciative grin at the joke. 

    “Okay, I’m going to…” Alex started, reaching for the waistband of Michael’s underwear. Michael’s hands met his and together they pushed and maneuvered his underwear off and then he laid on his back, bared in all his glory to Alex’s gaze. Alex tried not to stare, but Michael’s was the first real live cock he’d seen in front of him, hard, turned on, and for him to do what he wanted with. He catalogued all the differences between them. Michael was thicker than he was, uncut, and he seemed wider at the tip. Alex grasped him, running his fingers over the soft, velvety foreskin before taking a firmer grip and jacking him slowly. It was such a different sensation than he got from jacking his own cock, more fluid, and he loved watching the head of Michael’s cock disappear and reappear as his hand moved on him. He heard Michael softly exhale ‘Fuck’ above him as he kept moving his hand slowly up and down the shaft of his cock. The precum that beaded the tip was clear and shiny. Without overthinking it, Alex licked a broad stripe across the sticky head. The bitter, tangy taste took him by surprise, but he found he wanted more of it. Pulling back Michael’s foreskin he pressed his tongue over the slit of Michael’s cock before lowering his mouth to seal around the head and suck gently. 

    “Shit, I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the main event,” Michael hissed above him as Alex sucked on the head of his cock and moved his hand in tempo. Alex looked up through his eyelashes at him, not stopping what he was doing, and could see the strain on his face as he watched Alex’s mouth and hand on him. It made a flood of arousal wash through him to see how turned on Michael was getting, how so little was pushing him close to cumming already. 

    “Hey, switch sides,” Michael gasped, clutching at Alex’s shoulder. Alex popped off and gave him a confused look for a moment. “Like, bring your bottom half up here. 69!”

    Alex scrambled to comply. He practically tore off his underwear and both of them rolled onto their sides to face each other. He took Michael in hand again and looked down between them to see Michael do the same. He did it confidently, like he’d done this before even though Alex knew he hadn’t, but it was so typically Michael to always act like he knew what he was doing. He’d at least been blown before so, Alex surmised, he had to know more than Alex. Michael glanced down and their eyes met and for a fleeting second, Alex could see in some microexpression that Michael was nervous too. It made him feel better, made him want to make Michael feel the way he’d felt earlier, so he closed his eyes and wrapped his lips around Michael again. 

    This time he felt more confident. He smoothed his tongue over the hard flesh in his mouth and pushed his lips further down Michael’s shaft until he felt him teasing the edges of the back of his throat and he knew if he kept pushing he’d gag. So he took what he could and moved his hand over what he couldn’t. He’d gotten caught up in a rhythm of sorts to what he was doing when he felt the first touch of Michael’s tongue against his dick. It was barely there, a warm pressure and then gone. When Michael came back with his whole mouth, Alex pulled back off Michael with a gasp. That was a completely different feeling, one that made his toes curl and the muscles around his spine tense with pleasure. When Michael added his own bit of suction, Alex felt sure he would blow. 

    “Shit, shit, shit,” he panted, leaning his head against Michael’s hip for a moment. 

    “Right?” he heard Michael say and without looking, he knew the bastard was smirking at him. 

    “So can we just agree that if each of us is embarrassingly quick, this was just a warm-up round?” Alex panted out, finally opening his eyes to glance down towards Michael’s face. It was a mistake, of course, because his lips were red and spit slick, and Alex’s own cock was only inches away from them, and Michael had just had his mouth on him and if possible, Alex felt himself get the tiniest bit harder in Michael’s hand at the sight.

    “Yep,” Michael agreed succinctly, before diving back in. Alex had to concentrate not to buck his hips at the sudden sensation of Michael’s mouth on him, but he managed it. Trying to get his head back in the game, he drew Michael back into his mouth and regained his earlier tempo. A deep, throaty moan from Michael almost sent him spiraling over the edge as the vibrations ran the length of him. He echoed the sentiment and felt fine tremors run along Michael’s thighs. Slowing down, Alex decided to try to push his limit and see how much he could get of Michael in him. He moved his head down lower, trying to relax through the feeling of something blocking his throat. He pulled back and tried again. 

    “Shit, Alex, what are you-- Oh my god,” Michael was gasping above him, hand reaching down to cradle the back of Alex’s head. He didn’t push or put any pressure on him, just tangled his fingers in Alex’s dark locks and held on as Alex continued to slowly work him deeper. Michael tried to pleasure Alex at the same time, but it felt more like he just held him in his mouth and moaned as Alex moved over him. He didn’t mind. It felt powerful to have him so distracted, to have him whimpering and see his muscles twitching with how bad he wanted to move and thrust as Alex swirled his tongue around him and hollowed out his cheeks.

    A clench of fingers in Alex’s hair and quickly frantic “Fuck, I’m gunna --”  was all the warning Alex got before his mouth was flooded with Michael’s release. It wasn’t altogether pleasant, but he swallowed quickly in hopes the aftertaste wouldn’t be as bad. He backed off and looked down at Michael’s face. His cheeks were red from exertion, his mouth open and panting, and his eyes closed in something between pain and bliss. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked down at Alex, a lazy grin on his face. 

    “That was awesome,” he drawled, before sitting up and moving so he could capture Alex’s mouth in an overenthusiastic, sloppy kiss. Alex laughed at him, kissing him back and pulling him close, running his hands over all his new favorite places on Michael’s body. Michael’s hand reached between them and he grasped Alex’s cock. 

    “Is this okay?” he asked between kisses, hand moving purposefully over Alex. Alex nodded, pulling Michael into another kiss as he let himself get worked over. When he could no longer kiss because all his attention was on the rushing feeling through his body as he got pulled closer and closer to cumming, Michael started talking. 

    “You look so hot like this,” he murmured against Alex’s neck. “You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.”

    “Fuck, Michael,” Alex gasped, hips starting to make small, aborted thrusts to follow Michael’s tight grip on him. 

    “You looked so hot with my cock in your mouth, so focused, like you loved doing it, like you were made for it,” Michael breathed into his ear. Alex could only whimper, his body drawing tight before he started shooting, cum hitting his chest and stomach, dripping over Michael’s knuckles. 

    “Christ, that’s a lot of jizz,” Michael said, before laughing lightly as he grabbed someone’s underwear and wiped off his hand and Alex’s torso. “What a load of --”

    “Shhh,” Alex said, turning and covering Michael’s mouth with his before he could make another terrible joke. Michael hummed contentedly as Alex kissed it, slow and languidly as he came down from his high. When Alex could muster up the energy, he reached down and grabbed one of the blankets to throw it over them. Despite there being two mattresses, they were sharing one, knees tangled together, arms wrapped around each other, chests touching. 

    “So what does this mean tomorrow?” Michael asked quietly when they’d begun to drowse and could no longer keep kissing. Alex opened an eye and looked over at him, having noted the tension in his voice. 

    “What do you mean?” he asked, raising his head and propping it on a hand so he could look down at Michael. 

    “Like… are we together? Boyfriends? Friends with benefits? Is this like… a drunk tumble for the holiday?” Michael asked, swallowing thickly as he pushed out the last option. Alex frowned down at him, wondering where this was coming from, why he’d need to ask. Did he want it to be a drunk tumble?

    “I… I figured it meant we were dating? Like… like boyfriends. But if you don’t want that I--” Alex never got to figure out what concession he’d make to keep getting to kiss Michael. 

    “No! No, boyfriends is good. I-I want to be your boyfriend. I just wanted to make sure you wanted that too,” he finished, focusing on Alex’s shoulder as he ran his fingers lightly over the curve to his arm. 

    “So boyfriends,” Alex said decisively, laying back down, arm extended out under his pillow. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched over his mouth or the excitement that crept into his voice as he said, as calmly as possible, “I’m your boyfriend.”

    “You bet you are,” Michael pronounced, meeting his eyes finally and swooping in to kiss him through his own smile. Their teeth may have clacked together because they couldn’t seem to stop grinning, but it didn’t hurt and no one seemed to care. 

    The night passed quietly and slowly. They fell asleep against each other only minutes before dawn started to lighten the sky, the fire burned low in the fireplace behind them, their bodies spent from discovering each other over and over. It was the happiest Alex had ever felt, the safest and warmest as he laid with his back against Michael’s chest, feeling him breathe deeply as he slept. 

    “Boyfriends,” he whispered into the dark room, still smiling as he forced himself to close his eyes and lightly squeeze the arms that wrapped around him. 

#happy new years #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #new years eve #rnm fic #tw: homophobic language #schmoop and smut

[brexrif]

The Thief and the Witcher: Part 1

Anon Request!

Geralt and reader sitting in a pub with Jaskier. Geralt and Reader are seated while Jaskier is off doing whatever (we all know he is singing though) What about Geralt fingering the reader in public and expecting—quietly DEMANDING—reader to be quiet or it will only get worse. Maybe Jaskier comes over to have a conversation and Geralt is calm as ever, and the reader is struggling to keep conversation?

(Not my pic but a good one)

Warnings: smut smutty smut smut

Did my best to follow the request while working off of an idea I already had in mind! Please comment below and let me know what you think! Follow me for other Geralt smutty goodness.

You can find The Thief and the Witcher Part 2 here!

You can find all my work here: MASTER LIST

Xxxxxxxx

You slinked through a narrow, candle lit hallway grinning, pleased with yourself and your bounty. The leather sack slung on your back shifted as you gauged the weight of your spoils, deciding that you could stand to raid one more room. You approached a thick wooden door at the end of the hall that you knew the inn-keep usually saved for less desirable occupants. You whipped out your favorite dagger collected years ago from some pathetic noble lord; you remember the half-lidded look on his face when you had seduced him into a kiss while carefully taking the dagger off his belt- men are foolish. You drove the pointed end into the heart of the padlock, wiggling it slightly in a familiar pattern before hearing the lock click and give way to the heavy door. It creaked on worn hinges as you let it swing open, hiding from the doorway before checking to see if anyone was inside.

“Housekeeping!” you sang into the room while scanning quickly- no one was there.

Within your quick and practiced surveillance, you were able to take stock of what this poor soul had to offer you. You found two swords resting against the wall beside a set of very weathered armor, made for a very large man. With the fire blazing and the battleware of this particular customer, you ventured you must act quickly. Light-footed and practiced as usual, you glided over to the swords, grabbing a sack of coin from the table nearby. You noticed a pile of underclothes strewn carelessly beside the bed. Examining the swords, you quickly recognized one superior to the other. One of the stranger’s swords was made of pure silver, a weapon that could stand up to the flesh of monsters. Your eyes widened and you had to have it. You sheathed the sword in your belt, rotated it to the back of your right hip and covered it with your long woolen cloak. Pleased with your treasure, you made your way out of the room. You pulled the hood of your black woolen cloak far over your head before coming through the doorway and pulling the door shut behind you, quickly and quietly. You lowered your head, only your small chin and plump lips, now curled into a self satisfied smile, could be seen.

Making your way back down the hallway you heard heavy footsteps coming up the staircase. You kept your head bowed low and saw two very large, seemingly wet, naked feet making their way towards you. Surprised by the bareness of these feet you let your eyes wonder upward and damn, what a mistake that was. In their travel, your eyes found their way up two gigantically muscular calves, a pair of large, manly knees and the start of tree trunk thighs, covered in a generous layer of thick, dark hair. A dingy towel wrapped around his waist betrayed him, revealing a bulge you could scarcely tear your eyes from- you nearly tripped upon this discovery. This man was very clearly well endowed. Feeling some sweat start on the back of your neck, your eyes traveled further to the tightly defined ab muscles of this Adonis, which peaked prominently on either hip and dipped steeply downward in a V shape towards his other gift. A sweet, thick trail of wet hair swirled around his tight navel and dragged downward underneath the towel along with the crevasses of his rippling muscles.

“uhmmm..miss?” his deep gravely voice coated the thick air between you.

You realized your lips had parted slightly and your mouth was quite literally agape. “Excuse me” You quickly responded in a voice at least 3 times a higher pitch than your own, the kind you had used to announce yourself as housekeeping. You made yourself small against the wall without looking up and he walked past you slowly, confused and shaking his head a bit. His big body limbered and you could feel his heavy steps even in the stone beneath your leather boots. Once he cleared you, you practically flew down the three flights of stairs to the inn’s pub.

You spotted your friend, who was supposed to be keeping watch at the foot of the staircase for you, but was clearly distracted. She was poised precariously on a bench with a large mug of ale leaning almost halfway over the wooden table towards a very vibrantly dressed bard, who was holding a lute and playing softly to her. Her breasts were heaving out of her dress, her smile loose with alcohol and his eyes were resting on her chest as he played. What a sight.

“Lucja! We need to get out of here.” You came up behind her swiftly, your black cloak flowing and catching up with you as you commanded, detectable notes of annoyance in your voice.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. I’m just getting to know my new friend here, Jaskier. He’s an artist” she cooed, returning her eyes back to the man across the table from her.

“Come, come! Have a seat!” Jaskier invited you to sit beside Lucja. You sat hastily, swinging only one leg over the bench and facing her harshly.

“We need to go” you looked at her severely, impatiently waiting for her head to fall out from the clouds and realize you were serious.

Just then you felt a few familiar steps come up from behind you.

“Ahh, Geralt! Finally! I thought you might have drowned in that bath-you were gone for-EVER. This is Lucja and uhhh-” Jaskier looked at you questioningly, obviously having forgotten your name as every functioning brain cell he had was devoted to courting Lucja. He spoke so quickly you hardly realized he had arrived at you by the end of his thought.

“Y/N” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You suspected the man behind you was the same man you encountered more than half naked in the hallway and hopefully not the same man who owned the silver sword you had swung on your hip currently.

“Right, right. Y/N. I was just singing about you to Lucja, Geralt.”

“Mmmmmfh” Geralt grumbled behind you, the distaste palpable.

He took a seat beside you gesturing to the barmaid for two more ales. You reluctantly swung your other leg over the bench, feeling the silver rub against the wood of the shared seat.

“Y/N?” he asked, drawing his amber eyes from the table to you. You reluctantly pulled back the black woolen hood to your cloak, revealing your face and your flushing cheeks. You nodded your head apprehensively, trying not to look at him too hard. You worried once you started looking at him, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Geralt” he offered. He was clothed now, wearing a black tunic with a series of small buttons running up his chiseled body. It opened at the chest to reveal a luscious forest of dark and thick chest hair that covered his built pectorals and prominent collarbones. You realized you were staring too long and turned your focus quickly to the drink that he set in front of you.

“What’s wrong Geralt? Why so grumpy? Bath water too cold?” Jaskier teased him from across the table.

“Someone in this shit inn has stolen one of my swords” he growled into his mug.

“Oh uh- that’s not good Geralt. That’s not good at. all.” Jaskier looked worried and started getting visibly anxious. Lucja’s eyes slowly and casually made their way to meet yours and she finally understood.

“Maybe we should leave you two to your search then” Lucja offered, starting to grab your wrist.

“Oh no. I wouldn’t so easily give up the opportunity for someone else to take some of Jaskier’s blathering for an evening” Jaskier started to protest but Geralt continued “besides, I only feel bad for someone foolish enough to steal from me… Maybe they could use a head start before I get to them.”

Lucja laughed nervously and continued her attention to Jaskier, keeping a weary eye on you and Geralt.

A few moments passed that felt like years. You pretended to be interested in what Jaskier was saying and gulped down your ale. Lucja had another drink for herself and one for you waiting. Within no time, she was falling forward on the table again.

“So, should I consider myself lucky that you left my clothes behind?” Geralt broke the silence between you two whispering the best he could, which honestly just came out more like a low growl. You turned to him abruptly, fully now, and you were blown back: his gorgeous honey eyes, surprisingly light given his accusation, his chiseled jaw peppered with the most delicious stubble- not a single patchy spot in sight, his long white hair and full, bowed lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“You seemed to prefer me in a towel” Geralt chided, smiling into his mug.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” you spat at him, quietly not looking to draw attention from Lucja or Jaskier.

“Come on, as if I could forget those lips, and how they fell apart for me so easily. It’s not the first time I’ve stopped a woman in her tracks with the sight of my cock” he offered arrogantly. You were shocked and embarrassed, you didn’t know how to answer and you wished you could pull yourself away from looking at him so intently. He faced you fully now, leaving his mug on the table and closing the space between you suddenly-

“and what exactly did a little thing like you plan on doing with my silver sword, hm?” he paused realizing you wouldn’t answer so easily, “I am talking about my sword now, not my cock” he added, the heat between you two smoldering and intensifying. You felt a large hand creeping up onto your thigh, the sweat on the back of your neck returning. Without thinking, you parted your legs for him, his touch so commanding. You remembered the bulge under his towel that stole your attention.

“I was going to use it” you retorted curtly. His large fingers made their way up your thigh crawling in towards your heat. You sighed deeply, surrendering yourself to him by widening your legs even further.

“Is that so?” he was teasing you now, he smiled at you and inched closer. He lightly placed his fingers outside your opening, testing the heat beneath the fabric of your trousers. He leaned in and put his lips gently on your neck, just below your ear. He whispered quietly, “would you like to find out what happens to little whores that take things that are not their own?”

“I am not a whore” you whispered back to him.

“Just a thief then,” he bit at the fleshy skin of your earlobe and reached his hand around your hip to grab the hilt of his sword. He wiggled it a bit and pulled back from your neck to read your face. Your eyes were hard on him, your lips starting to pout, trying to deny your defeat.

“You know nothing of me, Witcher”

“I know that you’re wet for me” he returned his hand between your thighs and pushed two fingers to the crest of your folds. He rubbed slightly, expertly over the thin fabric of your pants. You sighed deeply at the feeling of his rough fingers coaxing pleasure from you so easily, even with a barrier separating the two of you.

“I also know that if I hear anything other than a sigh out of you, I’m going to have to get my sword back in a much uglier way” his lips curled into a mischievous smile and his eyes laid harsh on you. As he spoke, he rubbed his fingers in towards you harsher and quicker. You nodded knowingly, falling helplessly to the sweet delirium he was eliciting from between your legs.

“So tell me Y/N, how long have you been surviving on thieved goods and gold?” he asked, pushing a fresh mug of ale towards you with one hand and crawling his fingers to the laces of your trousers with the other. The inn was loud now. With the late hour, there were many more patrons greedily eating and drinking, singing catchy pub songs arm in arm, and yelling to one another across tables. Jaskier and Lucja carried on beside you, leaning over the table and now joining hands, their eyes drunkenly fixed on each other.

“hmmm?” he rumbled to you sliding his giant hand down the slope of your mound. You readjusted on the bench, moving back to accommodate his swift work. You surveyed the boisterous atmosphere and pulled your cloak around protectively, embarrassed and desperate for some privacy. You could stop him if you wanted, you had stopped plenty of men from touching you in the past, but this was different. You wanted him, Geralt was different. His command was teasing, but you truly thought your heart might stop without his fingers on you, his gaze and attention on you.

“I have always fended for myself, did what I had to”

“Hmmm” he sighed, moving his large and powerful finger between your wet folds. Your front teeth sunk deep into the plump of your bottom lip, trying to contain the pleasure he elicited from you. “And somehow, that involved stealing my sword” He allowed for some time to pass, slowly dragging his fingers up and down the folds of your sex, feeling you. Your hand clenched around the mug in front of you and you tried to cast your gaze downward towards the table.

“You also took a small sack of coin, did you not?” He broke the silence. You turned your gaze to him suddenly, embarrassed now that he also noticed that. Geralt looked at you amused, “I can hear your heart almost falling out of your chest” he brought one of his large fingers, slicked in your wetness to your opening and quickly pushed it into you. You jumped in your seat, adjusting to the size of him and sharply inhaling. He chuckled deeply at you, enjoying the apparent struggle it was for you to keep yourself together under his touch and his interrogation. You looked at him breathless and overwhelmed.

“That’s okay, Y/N, you go ahead and keep that coin. I have a feeling I’ll get my money’s worth from you by the end of tonight” He clenched his jaw and moved in closer to you, now pumping that finger in and out of your opening quickly. You squirmed and sighed, trying not to pant under his touch.

“Mmmmm” he leaned in under your ear again growling, kissing up your neck into the tender start of your hairline. You could feel the rough stubble of his jaw tickle your soft skin. “Remember what I said, not a sound.” He paused his thrusting rhythm and brought his finger back to your clit, which soaked in your moisture, he wiggled freely and easily in circular motions. Each arc of his swirling unraveling you further and further under his touch. He was driving you crazy, he had you completely at his whim. He continued kissing up your neck gently and working your clit under the table with his thick arm.

“Ahhh. Yes. So, Geralt.” Jaskier slid down the bench to be across from you and Geralt. “Sorry to interrupt your uh-well. I seem to have run out of coin and the lady and I need more ale yet and well” he lowered his voice, embarrassed. Geralt moved his face from your neck to look at Jaskier, his fingers continued below the table and without Jaskier’s knowledge you were coming undone right before him.

“I wish I could say I was surprised Jaskier…but I think a good bit of my coin was taken by the foolish thief as well.” He moved his fingers back down to your opening and stuck two fingers deep inside you, punctuating the word foolish. “Perhaps Y/N can oblige you for now” He looked to you casually, raising an eyebrow while you squirmed. You could hear his fingers thrusting in and out of you, lewd wet sounds coming from just below the table.

“Ummm. Yeah...mmmmhm” you were practically moaning, not doing the best job at concealing the pleasure writhing through you. Geralt’s thick fingers stopped their thrusting and started exploring slowly inside you, journeying, rubbing along your quivering walls.

“Y/N, is everything okay…?” Lucja turned to you, swaying with drink, her eyes struggling to focus on you completely.

“Yeah yeah mmhm” you responded, sweat beading on your forehead and your lips parted, trying to not obviously and openly pant. You reached for your coin purse and basically threw it at Jaskier, the aggression of your sexual frustration fueling the toss. He paused for a moment, noticing a strange tension, but took the sack and slid back down the bench. Lucja became distracted again when Jaskier went about acquiring more drinks for the two of them.

“Hmmm.” Geralt hummed, closing in to you again and seeking better leverage for his busy hand. “That was a little too close Y/N. You’re going to have to do better than that” he commanded raising his impressive and clenching jaw. He looked down at you, his amber eyes burning and harsh, determined. The pad of his middle finger found it’s way to the flat, hard surface of your g-spot. You gasped loudly, then coughed to try and maintain the façade.

“Focus for me sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum, but I need you to keep quiet for me. Do you understand?” You nodded, your eyes trying to roll in the back of your head. You looked at Geralt, he was stern and commanding. You remembered the glimpse you drank in of his almost nakedness, how every inch of his towering body was covered in rippling, hard muscle. You looked now to the dark hair swirling on his chest and remembered how it trails down pleasantly to what has to be a magnificent cock below. You put your hand on his knee, bracing yourself for the orgasm, but it started creeping up his thigh until you could feel his impressive, rock hard cock throbbing beneath his leather pants. He took his other hand to your wrist and moved it back to his knee. He shook his head at you.

You dug your fingernails in as he started rubbing your g-spot. Your teeth sunk hard into your bottom lip and you closed your eyes tight. To hide your face, you threw your forehead into the palm of your other hand, which was being propped up by your elbow on the table. You shielded your face and breathed quickly through your teeth as Geralt brought you closer and closer to ecstacy.

“Mmmhm. Good girl.” You heard him growl and lick his lips as he watched you struggle, your heels digging into the floor as his finger began rubbing hard on your g-spot. A woman down the table from you shook her head disappointedly, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything other than chasing this feeling. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you felt his large thumb press on your clit and wiggle slightly. You came undone and let out a whimper. Geralt was relentless all through your orgasm, waves of pleasure radiating through your bones and sneaking out your mouth in pathetic little sounds.

“Mmmmmm, quiet now” he assured, bringing your lips to his. You put your hand over his, desperate for him to stop. He finally ceased, kissing you sensually, biting on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Now…lets see how you can handle a sword”

Xxxxx

Need more? You’re in luck:

PART TWO!!

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #witcher geralt #geralt fanart #the witcher netflix #the witcher #witcher smut #witcher fanfiction #witcheredit #fanfic #smut #request #adventure #thief

[writingformymentalhealth]

Chapter 7

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.

Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst,

Part 1

Part 8

Masterlist

Wattpad

The next morning, Joey woke up to an empty bed. Everything was folded neatly, and it looked like the bed had been untouched for the night and even though she felt hostile towards the Slytherin, she would have preferred to wake up next to a familiar face instead of a cold and empty room.

Sighing, she put on a dress, guessing that Orion and Walburga probably weren’t the breakfast in Pyjama kind of people.

In the dining room she only found Regulus eating his breakfast while reading the newspaper thoroughly.

She cleared her throat. “Morning.”

“Good Morning, Kreacher will bring you breakfast in a minute.”

She nodded, sitting down next to him, nervously playing with her hair till the house-elf brought her breakfast.

“My Parents aren’t going to be home till the evening and I have no idea where Sirius went.” Regulus informed her, not looking up from his newspaper.

She let her mind wander to Sirius; he was drunk yesterday and although she wished it was different; she doubted that Sirius Black would want to be the dirty little secret of somebody - yet alone herself. She looked at her fiancée who didn’t even spare her a look and had to blink back tears - she was in for a lonely summer and probably an even lonelier life.

She shuddered thinking about her married life with Regulus, her only source of affection being cold gazes and snippy comments.

After both teens finished their breakfast, Regulus got up, making his way to the door.

“Can we explore the house today?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I live here there is nothing to explore.”

“I don’t live here.” She said, fully aware of how pleading her voice sounded.

“There is nothing interesting here, besides maybe Sirius room - if you are into half naked woman on motorcycles, but I guess you already explored that thoroughly.”

“Reggie-” the nickname slipped from her lips so easily that it surprised even herself. She expected Regulus to be angry, but he just nodded curtly.

“Alright I’ll give you a tour.”

He walked her through the hallways showing her some of the guest rooms that all had a similar eerie decor that made Joey’s hair stand up.

“Told you.” He muttered after guest room number three, but Joey was adamant about seeing every room in the enormous mansion.

The last door of the hallway looked different, less dusty, and Regulus hesitated before opening it.

The room was beautiful. Huge bookshelves decorated the walls, a comfortable-looking sofa next to a fireplace, and a huge piano in the middle of the room.

“I like this room,” Regulus informed her, his eyes slipping over the furniture as if he wanted to make sure that nothing was missing

“It’s beautiful.” she walked to the piano, gently caressing the expensive wood. “Can you play?”

“A little.”

“Play for me.”

“Is this an order?” Regulus asked and Joey felt her body tense up, although the boy didn’t seem angry, just curious.

“Just hoping you will consider my request.”

He made a smacking sound with his mouth before his long, slender fingers found their way to the piano keys. He started playing a melody that Joey didn’t know, but she liked it, and most importantly she liked how regulus looked when playing the piano. So peaceful, so emotional, so young, so very human. Joey found herself fascinated by the boy she saw, and she clapped excitedly after he finished his play and for a short second she thought she almost saw him smile a little.

But his face soon became cold again as he informed her he had some work for his parents to do and she was welcome to look around on her own.

Shocked by his sudden change in demeanor, Joey just nodded, making her way back to Regulus room, plopping herself on the bed trying to read a book.

The next few days went by in a blur, the Black parents being occupied by something they called ‘important business’, Regulus practically ignoring her and Sirius still not coming back.

It was Monday evening during dinner that Sirius decided to rejoin the Black household.

“Late as always,” Walburga sneered as the boy sat down opposite of Joey.

Sirius stayed silent, shoving food inside his mouth while Walburga went on about what a disappointment Sirius was. Joey opened her mouth to say something, but Regulus shook his head, giving her a warning glare.

“And now to you,” Walburga said, looking at Joey and regulus, “you seem so distant with each other, why don’t you hold hands or something?”

Orion snorted dismissively. “They sleep in the same room I’m sure they are far past hand holding.”Joey felt her cheeks heat up as the two adults talked about her sex life so nonchalantly and her eyes automatically looked to Sirius, her subconscious still holding on to all the years that he has been her comfort but Sirius eyes were filled with something that could only be described as pure rage as he glared at his brother who didn’t even flinch under the older Black boy’s gaze instead he swiftly slipped his hand into her’s.

Sirius looked ready to burst and Joey felt comfort in Regulus casually holding her hand as Sirius stood up abruptly, walking up the wooden stairs in his room.

Joey’s heart sank. She hated it when Sirius got angry, especially when it was because of her, but there was nothing she could do for this situation - at least till the adults were asleep.

-

It was past midnight as Joey slipped into Sirius’ room, half expecting him to be fast asleep but instead finding his head in his hands sitting on the floor next to a fist shaped hole in the wall.

“Sirius.”

She didn’t get an answer she slowly made her way towards him as if he was a wild animal. Joey lowered herself next to the trembling boy’s body, reaching out a hand to comfort him but stopping a few inches before his skin.

Was it okay for him if she comforted him? After all, he wasn’t hers anymore.

Did he even want to see her?

Was he sad or mad?

“I’m sorry,” she stated, not sure for what exactly she was apologizing for.

The drunk make-out session? The break up? The hand holding?

“It’s just so unfair.” he breathed. “You’re the girl who called me an asshole the first time we spoke. The girl who tried to pay for our sweets even after she learned I am a Black and have more than enough money. You’re the girl who risked falling out of the window to feed the orphaned birds, who makes my breath hitch whether you’re wearing a tight dress or oversized sweatpants. You’re- “ he paused, his grey eyes locking with her green ones “You are my girl.”

She swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth heart still belongs to you.”

“But everything else belongs to my brother, doesn’t it?” Joey shuffled away at the sudden harshness of his voice.

“He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Some emotion swirled in his grey eyes, making her bite her lip.

“Do you love him?”

“No. You’re the only one for me, you’ll always be.”

Tears started pooling in her eyes as she faced the bitter truth her words held.

“You feel nothing for him?” Sirius clarified, shifting closer to her.

“Nothing, he is just the guy I am forced to marry.”

And then Sirius’ lips crashed against hers, holding her body close as if he was scared she might disappear. She buried her head in his neck, pressing kisses there too, inhaling his familiar scent of expensive cologne and smoke.

-

“It’s only for our parents? You don’t like being close to him?” Sirius asked for the hundredth time, searching her eyes for any sign of a lie.

“Yes Sirius. You are the only one I want to be close to.” He nodded, letting his head fall back down on her chest. “I still need to sleep in his room though.” She said, playing with Sirius’ soft locks.

He gripped the sheet tightly, trying to control the boiling anger that came with the image of his girl sleeping next to his baby brother. “I Hate him”

“He did nothing wrong, Siri.”

He gave her a dirty look. “He touched you.”

“For your parents. Now c’mon let me leave before we both fall asleep.”

Sirius grumbled as he pushed his body off of her so she could get up.

“Wait,” he said as she went to the door. She turned around, seeing a grinning Sirius handing her one of his shirts. “wear this.”

“Sirius-“

“It’s one of the shirts my mother purchased, she could never make out which shirt belonged to Regulus and which one was mine.” He grinned mischievously, “but Regulus can.

She rolled her eyes although taking the shirt out of his hand. “You’re such a child, Black.”

With one swift motion, she pulled her shirt over her head, practically feeling Sirius’ dark eyes boring into her body before she pulled over his oversized shirt.

Sirius smirked darkly, “Perfect.”

She rolled her eyes again before sneaking out of the door into Regulus room, only stopping in her treks as she found Regulus wide awake writing something on his desk instead of finding him fast asleep as she expected.

“I thought you were asleep.” She stammered awkwardly as his gaze met hers.

“I don’t usually sleep early.”

“But you are always awake before me?”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“We always went to bed together,” she exclaimed, puzzled by the boy’s behavior.

“Figured I’d be less awkward like that.”

Joey blinked slowly. Her brain couldn’t fathom Regulus black sitting somewhere thinking how he could make things less awkward for the girl he was forced to marry.

“That’s” she paused, clearing her throat, “very kind of you.”

He didn’t answer, turning around and packing away his things. And Joey had the feeling that she was supposed to say something, but she didn’t know what.

“I suppose you made up.” He said turning around gesturing to her shirt, “assuming that’s his shirt.”

“Uh yeah.” He nodded, pulling his shirt over his head before slipping under the covers. “So you always go to sleep when I go to sleep?” She asked awkwardly.

“No. I am going to bed, sometimes I fall asleep eventually sometimes I wait till you sleep to get up and read something downstairs.” He said, turning to the side, clearly signaling that the conversation is over.

Even though Joey thought she would have a good night’s sleep, being in the clear with Sirius and all, she couldn’t help but toss and turn in bed, Regulus confession stirring up a weird feeling in her stomach. Only an arm's length away from her Regulus too couldn’t sleep. Seeing Joey in his brother’s shirt, her legs covered in dark hickeys for some reason rubbed him the wrong way.

-

Next part

Hope you liked it :)

What do you think about reg and Joey ?

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