httpsbearily

[httpsbearily]

just read my request about bryon again, and YOU'RE SO REAL FOR PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES (I've been too lazy to play it), ANYWAYS, YOU WROTE HIM SO GOOD 😭😭

THANK YOU I was literally kicking my feet writing that, he knows how to get the girls and the gays giddy what a man awooga. anyways I look forward to your next big bryon idea, i write about it in my singing diary <3

[wuwa is so sexy fun anon you’re missing out look at baizhi my pfp we’re wives!]

[httpsbearily]

☆*: Lost Time

[D.C.]: @thepathofpain

[Tags]: brutus x reader | GN reader | fluff & smut

Minors Do Not Interact

[Author’s Note]: I absolutely loved writing this piece, I had to cut some parts out because it was becoming a whole ass book…rip. Anyways, reader displays physical characteristics of a kit fox because I needed a desert animal [mauler] for the plot and I just so happened to have written a research paper on these guys a few months ago. two birds, one stone. too easy!

A life in the desert was not for the weak or incapable. This was a lesson you had learned the hard way when growing up. You were born into a clan of fierce warriors, strong fighters, and battle champions. To the members of your clan, dueling was the highest honor, only triumphed by victory of said duel. Strength, prowess, skill…these were all qualities that were revered by your clan and any who didn’t sport all three would be lucky to be considered decent at the very least.

It was with the luck of being born on a red moon that had you lacking two of the three characteristics. While you weren’t weak, you couldn’t be said to be strong, not when you considered a victorious battle to be one you found your way out of. And your prowess…even you could admit that it was a good thing hunting for a meal was old school, taken over by vendors and restaurants who did the work for you. Skill was the only trait you could said you had more than enough of. You hosted a cunning mind that fostered curiosity for and interest in creation. It was perhaps the only reason why you had stayed put in the desert; Where there were warriors, there were weapons.

Of course, you didn’t find this path of life until you were much older so your childhood was filled to the brim with frustration. There was one memory in particular that stuck with you even to this day:

You were years younger than you were now—still a kid at the time, only having just celebrated your birthday where your age finally reached the double digits. At this age, the clan held a tradition of introducing battle mechanics to the children in hopes that they could foster warrior spirits into their young hearts. So you were sent off to spend an hour or two training at the area the really just looked liked an oversized playground. Along side you there were three other kids who’d just tuned of age same as you, so together the five of you trained and sparred.

In reality, this is when your struggles had begun. With the clan favoring the strongest, naturally a friendly competition had settled amongst you and your group mates. Or, well, as friendly as shaping a fighter could get. Only after half a year, your peers had already seen a big jump of improvement in their abilities. Quite quickly you realized that you were already being left behind…the others noticed it too.

“Why dont you go help the cooks make us a meal instead of trying to learn that skill set. You’ve been doing the same practice for months and still haven’t moved up, ha!”

At first, they’d only tease you like that. Telling you to just go home because you would never become a warrior at your learning pace. And you wanted to, you really did, but you worried how that would make your parents feel. They weren’t exactly frontline warriors themselves, but they were still warriors nonetheless. They excelled in sneak attacks and underground movement, an art that had actually allowed them to meet each other. You on the other hand, had wasted six months practicing basic defense moves.

It wasn’t due to your inability or some lack of skill, really, you just didn’t really care. Why advance to harder levels when the basics were good enough for you? You were honestly more drawn to the wooden sword you practiced with than the movements it made. It seemed that none of the others could relate to you, or even understand you, though because they made jabbing comments and snickering remarks.

By the time a year had passed, they had taken to asking you to spar with them knowing full well you didn’t have the training. You were always quick to dismiss them, instead focusing on whatever it was that you were doing, but on one particularly day, your peers had taken their teasing a step further. All it took was for one of them to pull your arm to encourage the other two to get involved. You felt one flick your ear while another tugged your tail, the third one pulling your arm. Unused to their physicality, you tried to push yourself away, more caught of guard than in actual pain. But they only gathered closer around you.

You told them to go be a bother elsewhere, that you weren’t in the mood, but they didn’t seem to listen. Or care. Poking and prodding, they messed with you relentlessly and you had fought the urge to cry as they ganged up on you. When you resulted to closing your eyes and protecting your ears with your hands, their touch fell away suddenly. You heard their surprised cries and opened your eyes to see the three kids struggling against another.

“Beat it,” the kid growled, “bullies have no business becoming a warrior.”

You recognized the intruder, you’d seen him with the group that was two or three years older than your group. It seemed the other three recognized him as well because they scrambled to get themselves together before rushing away, not even daring to taunt you as they passed. You watched their backs until they disappeared behind one of the training walls before turning to look at the older lion before you. His face appeared stony, his arms crossing over his chest imposing a strong presence. You lowered your hands from your ears slowly, not sure if he meant for you to go away as well.

“Thank you,” You said awkwardly, “for helping me.”

The older lion tilted his fluffy head, “are you okay?” he asked with more concern than you’d anticipated. A stark contrast to his appearance, his voice could almost be described as gentle. It reminded you that he was still a kid too, not just the strongest warrior of his age group and two above.

Nodding your head, you dusted yourself off, “I’m okay. They didn’t do much aside from tugging at me.”

“Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked, “Isn’t that the whole point of training?”

“Oh…I’m still learning. They’re more advanced than I am so even if I tried, I don’t think I could beat them,” you responded honestly.

The lion boy gave you a confused look, “you don’t seem upset by that.”

You smiled, giving him a small laugh and another nod, “yeah, cause I’m not. Not really. All this fighting, winning, and losing is boring! I’d rather get it over with than participate whole heartedly, I could go back home sooner that way.”

His expression flattened, as if he were suddenly disinterested in you. “Oh, you’re just lazy.”

“Hey! Just because I don’t like punching people around doesn’t mean I’m lazy.” You huffed, copying him as your crossed your own arms over your chest, “I’d just rather be doing other things. Cooler things. Like making my own axe. Look at this dagger—I made it myself.”

You held out a dully sharpened rock out in your hands with a mischievous grin, looking down at it with pride and joy. The lion boy was…unimpressed to say the least, but he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, really. He moved his hand to take the rock knife from you, lifting it up to inspect it in the light.

A few moments passed with him turning it over in his hand before he returned it to you, saying, “why do you train if you don’t have any interest in fighting?”

You shrugged, “I wanna make my parent proud.”

Pocketing your beloved knife creation, you didn’t elaborate any further making a silence fall between the two of you. Shuffling your feet, you look over the lion’s shoulder.

“Won’t you get in trouble for skipping lessons?” You finally asked.

The boy looked back at the direction of his training area before turning back with a nod; “Only if I have no good reason. But I do. I’ll be heading back now.” He waved goodbye to you as he turned to leave, getting a few steps in before looking back at you, “if those kids bully you again, come look for me. I’ll set them straight.”

And with that he jogged away. You waved at him enthusiastically, even if he couldn’t see you, making you take a few seconds to realize something. “Wait,” you yelled out to him, “What’s your name?!”

“Brutus!”

That encounter led the two of your together from that moment on. Unexpectedly, your group mates hadn’t given you any more trouble—physically that is—so you hadn’t had reason to seek out the lion boy. Luckily for you, that opportunity had come with tournament week. The two of you reunited amidst the competition and completely hit it off. The more time the two of you spent together, the closer you became, growing together until even the clan recognized the two of you as best friends.

Eventually, you quit battle training all together, much to Brutus’ dismay, but you promised him that you guys could still hangout after he was done with his. In the mean time, while he trained on the field, you had taken to becoming familiar with weaponry. Your parents were much more encouraging of you becoming an artist rather than a fighter than you’d expected; Their logic had been that every warrior needs a weapon. So quite soon after, you begged the old iron worker to let you apprentice under him. When he finally agreed, it felt like your life was finally on track.

It went on like this for years: you learned how to forge a blade from raw materials while Brutus honed his skills on the battle field. When evening fell, the two of you would meet at the stack of boulders overlooking an oasis a small distance away from the clan grounds. Stories were shared about both your days, what you learned and who he beat. You spoke about the future and how you would make him the best of the best colossal sword, sharp enough to cut through rock yet light enough to carry around. He would only chuckle at your demonstration of how easy it would be to swing the weapon, telling you he looked forward to that day the most, and promising he’d never use any-other’s forged blades.

Alongside each other, the two of you grew—him growing much taller and much faster than you but you accounted it to his laborious daily training. If he noticed that you never reached past his shoulders, he didn’t mention it. You tried to ignore it too, but it was much harder to do when he could quite literally cast a shadow over you whilst standing. As a rule, you made it so that he could never stand within three feet of you while you worked. You had once thought him to be a wall in your peripheral vision, so you tried putting a searing red sword on him. This experience was all it took for you to make that rule. But aside from height, Brutus developed into a strong, capable warrior with a soft heart that did not match his appearance. You often joked that he’d scare his own children to tears with just his stoic expressions, and end up crying with them. On the other hand, he’d consistently remind you how much you’ve changed as well—in a good way. You were no longer the “weakling puppy” he’d first met you as, but now a sly fox. Of course, you’d push him for calling you a puppy, complaining loudly as you did.

“I’m not some dog! Put some respect on my genetics you overgrown cat!”

“‘Overgrown cat’?! Do you want to fight?!”

You two got along great. Really.

But eventually the day came where Brutus was needed for battle. You knew that it’s what he’s been training his whole life for, and that he was the best warrior in your clan, but you still got hurt when he made the announcement to you.

“The northern clan needs our help. They say hypofiend activity has increased, even stone golems are invading their lands. We have to stop them before they find themselves here,” he explained to you as the two of you sat in the traditional spot on the stacked boulders overlooking the oasis.

You didn’t know what to say. One part of you was supportive of him and his desire to be out protecting those around him…but the other part was deathly worried. Other mauler opponents were one thing, but hypofiends? Stone golems? An army of the two together?! The chances of not only defeating them, but surviving the process as well, were lower than you’d wanted to bring up. He called out your name, and you turned to him with a blank look. How could you ask him to stay? How could you tell him to go? How could you be okay in either situation?

“I…” you started, blinking rapidly as your tried to gather your thoughts, “don’t know what to say…”

Surprise filled his expression, “I thought you’d be a little more happy.”

“Happy?” You repeated, “How can I be happy when you’re literally going off to war against unliving beings? I’m nothing but scared.”

Brutus furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest as he usually did when he was standing his ground. “Living or not, I’ve been fighting battles since I was 10. I’m more than capable of keeping myself alive.”

You turned away from him, looking down at the oasis beneath your dangling feet. You didn’t mean to offend him, or to make him think you doubted him. You were just worried, and you didn’t know how to express yourself. Fighting was never your strong suit, disinteresting you to the point of avoidance. That included fighting with Brutus, emotionally. Your fingers clutched the stone dagger you had made all those years ago, dangling on your chest as a necklace that Brutus himself made. It was his contribution to the best friend tokens that you suggested the two of you did, just for fun. Your token was one of the beads he wore in his mane—a lighthearted joke that was an insider between the two of you.

A sich left your lips, and you hugged your knees. “Alright then,” you said, “be safe.”

Brutus didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected you to behave so detachedly, but it put him off anyways. Why did you seem to believe he couldn’t do it? He though you of all people would know his strength and congratulate him for his upcoming battles. After all, the pride of the lions was the victory of duels. Just as it was for the clan. Wearing a cold expression, Brutus didn’t respond as he turned to head back to the grounds. That was his biggest regret.

The next morning, the clans fiercest warriors were gone, including Brutus. You were still sore from your argument last night, but there was nothing you could do now. All that was left was for you to hope and pray that your best friend would make it back.

You were left praying for 8 months. During that time, you immersed yourself into your forging; Day and night you crafted creating metalwork after metalwork to distract yourself. In working so hard, for so long, it was inevitable that you soon became one of the most highly skilled blacksmiths in the clan--not that there were any to begin with, aside from your teacher; Another reason why your work had soon become sought after. There were many reasons behind all the passion you poured into each individual piece you made but regret was never one of them. While you dearly missed your best friend, you were more dejected by the realization that the two of your paths were fated to run parallel to each other, never crossing. Where you were uninterested in the heat of a fight, Brutus only cared about his weapons when he was using them to strike down his opponents. There really wasn't any space for the two of you two to walk together.

So, you devoted your every breath to chasing the one pleasure you knew would never leave you. And it was worth it--almost. Your handcrafted weapons grew in demand, even the most notable of warriors wielded your art. It had gotten to a point where custom requests were given to you to forge a weapon unique only to its master. Over time, your old teacher weened you off his guidance until you were able to run his shop on your own. Of course he was still around, stocking resources and keeping records, but he had all but given you ownership. All things considered, you would almost deem your life perfect.

Now, during the winter, the amount of orders you had lessened slightly as compared to other seasons. You had closed shop early to work on commission designs. As you made your way to the stack of boulders overlooking the oasis, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

Where was Brutus? Was he okay? When would he return? Would he return?

Your ears twitched on your head as you walked and you reached a hand up absentmindedly to rub it soothingly. Reaching the spot, you silently sat down, dangling your feet over the edge, and pulling out the blueprints of ideas you had for some customers. Digging out a pencil from your pockets, you went to work, filling the silent atmosphere with scribbling noises. You kicked your feet without much thought unconsciously releasing the stress that blanketed your body. It wasn't unusual to find you here, alone, doing nothing but drawing plans or staring up at the sky. You enjoyed the peace that came with the isolation out here, but there were times when you couldn't help but reminisce that company you once had. Another twitch of your ears had you poking them with your pencil to get them to settle down.

"The purpose of reflexes is to keep you aware of your surroundings," a deep voice spoke from beneath you. You startled at their words, immediately perking up as you looked around. "They keep you alive."

Looking down to your right, you finally saw him. He stood tall, taller than you remember...bigger than you remembered too. The leather body armor he wore before had been replaced by metal; A shoulder guard protected his left while a fur pelt adorned his left. On his wrists were metal goblets colored brown with gold accents. Only a leather strap covered his bare chest, but his bottom clothes remained the same. His mane was wild, fully undone with only two braids--one of which was held together by a familiar bead. You were speechless.

It felt like minutes had passed in silence before you jumped up and hurried off the rocks. Like some old married couple, separated by a war, you ran to him and leaped up throw your arms around his shoulders (you feel short quite a distance, but it didn't matter. Brutus had picked you up with strong arms).

"You're back?!" You shouted rhetorically, face burying itself into his coarse fur, "When did you get back?!"

"Not to long ago. When I didn't find you on the grounds, I figured you would be here."

Suddenly you pushed yourself away from him, making you land on the ground, " You asshole! What took you so long? It's been almost a year--was the battle too seductive for you to look away long enough to at least send me a letter?!"

Brutus sighed, his lion ear twitching as he did so, "I had no time. There were more enemies than we anticipated, and they seemed to continuously pour out from the earth. If it wasn't for a mage we encountered, I would still be out there fighting."

You sulked, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded him. Angrily, your tail swished behind you.

"I apologize," he finished after a momentary pause.

At that, your resolve crumbled a little, enough for you to let out your own sigh before you leaned into him for another hug. With his front exposed as it was, his fur tickled your face lightly making you pull your head back slightly.

"I like the new look," You told him, "you look really different."

Both his arms wrapped around you, engulfing you in an embrace that consumed your. "Bad different?" He asked.

"No," was all you said. Relishing in his grasp, your mind raced as you processed that your best friend was back--he was right here, standing Infront of you after almost a year. A million emotions ran through you and you struggled to find just one to focus on. Brutus didn't say anything else either, just allowing the two of you to grow reaccustomed to the other. You were surprised you hadn't started crying.

When you pulled away once again, Brutus said, "So...I've heard your smithing skills are a clan pride."

A shy smile appeared on your face, "You could say that. I think I still have a lot to live up to in comparison to Teacher Arlo, but my work is out there."

He made a thoughtful noise and turned to eye his colossal blade that he had stabbed into the ground. "I could do with a new blade. This one is dulling."

Out of habit, you had noticed his large blade immediately after spotting him from above, but only now did you have the chance to fully inspect it. He was right, all along the edge of his weapon there were chips and dents in the metal--the metal itself seemed of lesser quality but you figured he didn't have many purchase option out on the battle field. The handle was well worn, the fabric that lined the grip slightly torn and miscolored. It was...a pretty sad sight to see. Letting out a click of your tongue, you poked the metal with your finger; "I think dulling might be an understatement...But no worries. I haven't forgotten my promise to you when we were kids. I already have something back at the shop."

Brutus looked shocked, "you remember that?"

"Of course, I didn't forget everything just because you ran off to war--still upset by the way, you didn't even say bye to me. Jerk."

Your words made his surprise morph into a soft expression, his normally stone expression tainted with something you couldn't recognize. It made your heart flutter, and just like that you were reminded of the old times. Turning away from you, he uprooted his blade--his arms flexing with strength but you definitely weren't looking--before looking back, saying, "On my honor, I will make it up to you."

With that, the two of you set off on the path back to blacksmith shop you lived in. Stories of all that happened were exchanged between you two, catching the both of you up on all the important life events that transpired in the other's absence. If you let yourself feel it, you could almost swear the two of you were a year younger acting like nothing would ever change. It scared you to understand that a few things had.

You would never, ever, tell Brutus, but during his time away you had been forced to sort through things on your own...including your understanding of why his departure had left you so sore. It took weeks of not hearing from him to realize that you were so worried, much more than a friend. Why? Because you didn't just love him, you were in love with him. Needless to say, that made you spiral, but on the bright side, some of your best weapons were created during that time. Your teacher had praised you saying he had never seen such a balanced arrow before. Admittedly, that made you feel a little better. However, now that you knew the fluttering of your heart whenever you were with Brutus wasn't because you were just having a happy time but because he was your happiness.

This much couldn't be said to be the same for your best friend though. He had never shown any signs that he reciprocated your feelings. Right now, you were too focused on the excitement of having him back to face the struggle of keeping yourself sane around him, but you knew later on would be different.

"It took me a while to perfect the ideas I had in my head, but I was so proud of the way it came out. I hope you'll like it because you never gave me any ideas to go off of. I was basically going in blind!" You warned him when you finally reached the shop and lead him to the back room.

"It'll be fin--omph"

You whipped around at the thud that resounded, reaching out in the darkness to light up a lantern. Brutus held his forehead, bending down as he walked into the room after you.

"It's lower than I remember..."

Laughter bubble out of you once you registered what happened, "Haha, no. You've just grown. Inflated like a muscle balloon. Seriously, what happened. Oh look, here it is!"

Using all your strength, your pulled on the large wooden box that rested vertically on the wall. Grunting wit effort, you dragged it to the lion who walked crouched to meet you halfway. Taking it from you, Brutus lifted the container on the table and dropped it with a thud. Impatient, you lifted the lid for him with a 'ta-da' and exposed the giant silver blade inside. It was silver in color, and double edged with an opening along the middle as if you had stuck two swords together. The end of the blade flattened out into a curved geometry that would allow easier swinging motions. The handle was covered in a thick leather that was wrapped around sturdy metal, allowing for a secure handle that would never break. You explained all your designed choices to the lion as he took out the weapon to examine it in his hands.

"It's even--whoah! Don't swing it in here, you're going to cut off my tail!" You yelped, taking a step back to avoid his movements.

Brutus admired the craft, flipping it over and looking it tip-to-end with a sharp gaze; Then he looked back to you, his tail flicking side-to-side intensely. "It's marvelous," he commented.

You preened, putting your hands on your hips with a big smile, "Of course it is! I promised you the best, didn't I?"

"You did," he agreed, slowly putting the blade back in its case, "And you honored your promise. Please, let me honor mine."

He stepped towards you, reaching his hands out to gently pull your body into his. You gladly accepted his invitation, letting yourself fall against his large body. This really wasn't safe for your infatuated heart, but you couldn't help but nuzzle into him, taking great pleasure in the way he oversized you. If new fantasizes arose from this, you couldn't be blamed. Wait, what were you thinking?! He was your best friend! Your body tensed at your thoughts and you moved to pull away, but Brutus' strong hands kept you in place. His face leaned between your ears atop your head making them tic as his breath fluttered over them. Out of your control, your tail flicked behind you with a mind of its own but responding to your emotions. All you could do was hope Brutus didn't connect the signs.

Your fingers buried themselves into his mane, scratching lightly and received a tightening grip around your waist in response.

"The battles I fought were easier than this," Brutus grumbled into your hair. Why did he sound...disgruntled?

"With them I knew what to expect. I've never been defeated in a fight," he continued. You made a sound of agreement with your throat to show him you were listening. "But now, I only expect defeat."

"Defeat in what?" You were confused, wasn't the war already over? Unless this was a dream, there was no battle that he was currently fighting. Did all that sparring with stone golems mess with his head...

"Us."

You chuckled, "Us? What, are you breaking up with me?"

He didn't respond for a second making you think your joke might not actually be a joke, but then you remembered you weren't even in a relationship. So you called out to him, "Brutus?"

Suddenly, he pulled you away enough to look you in the eyes. "No. The opposite actually," he said vaguely, a cold expression on his face, "If this spurs you, then I have twice as much to ask forgiveness for."

Before you could question just what on earth he was talking about, he leaned down and kissed you. Stupidly, you froze, completely stunned by the turn of events. His kiss held force which was reasonable for him but at the same time it was gentle, cautious. You didn't process the situation until he was already pulling away from you; Pulling on his mane, you lured him back to you in a chance to redeem yourself. Overflowing emotion filled your lips as you tried to convey your emotions to him. His hands covered your back as he held you tightly, pulling you flush against him so that he could kiss you harder. It felt like months--no, years--of repressed emotions were drowning the two of you and it was enough to make your heart break.

His rough tongue lapped at your lips as the kiss quickly heated causing you to open your mouth to grant him entry. Just like the rest of him, his tongue was sizeable and quickly filled your mouth as he tasted the inside of it. Desperation was quick to settle amongst the two of you, stroking both of your hearts as you took, and took from one another. Seemingly making up for lost time, Brutus picked you up effortlessly and guided your legs to wrap around his hips. He didn't move away from his spot despite what you thought, acting rooted to the ground as his hands began kneading your body. You could feel his sharp claws through your clothes which made a shiver run down your spine, the danger he held in his body made your heart race with thrill. Careful not to hurt it, Brutus gripped you tail with one of his hands, stopping it in its wagging movement to tug at it lightly.

You moaned softly into his mouth, squeezing your arms around him as a bolt of electricity shot through you. When you felt that the small barbs of his tongue were licking your mouth sore, you pulled away from the kiss. Brutus was displeased by this and let out a faint rumble in his chest before moving to lap at your neck. You could feel his ears twitching at the sound of your soft moans near them, and you almost felt bad that you were irritating them, but then Brutus flexed his claws out to tear the back of your shirt.

"Brutus!" You scolded, turning your head to see your naked back. He only licked a stripe up your cheek as he pulled your shirt away to toss on the ground. Like this he was able to access the skin on your shoulders and chest so the end justified the means. Unlucky for you, that top was the only thing that had been separating you from skin to fur contact; With it gone, and Brutus shifting your body around to lick at different spots, your nipples were vulnerable to the friction against his coarse fur. Stimulated by his tongue lapping your skin, his hand tugging your tail, and your nipples rubbing against him, your moans increased in volume. You began to rock your hips against his unconsciously. He growled lowly again, using the hand that tore your shirt to grip your ass tightly.

From your peripheral vision, you saw his own lion tail restlessly flicking behind him and you yearned to pull on it the way he pulled at yours. Instead, you moved your arms to undo the armor he wore on his shoulders. He let you work, too busy nipping his sharp teeth into your neck and groping your behind. Your moving hips only encouraged his to rut up into you faintly.

With a disruptive clang, his metal shoulder guard fell to the ground, soon followed by the pelt he wore. Like this, you had much more access all around his completely bare chest and experimentally scratched your fingers through the fur. Granted, you weren't sure how much pleasure he gained from your exploring movements, but he seemed content enough as he didn't stop you. Instead, he hoisted you up higher, no longer interested with the skin of your neck, to drag his rough tongue over the erect buds on your chest. You moaned out loudly at the sensation, arching your back to push your nipples further into his face to chase the feeling.

"I've spent nights just imagining what you would sound like," He spoke, voice just above a growl. He took one of your buds into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it before sucking on it harshly, releasing it with a pop. Mimicking his actions, Brutus did the same to the other, finishing his thoughts, "My dreams could never amount to the real thing."

Breathlessly, you considered his words to understand what he meant, "How long," a sigh of pleasure, "how long have you felt this way?"

"Years, maybe. The teenage ones were the worst. I'll never understand how you never realized how much I craved you."

Another tug at your tail and a rut of his hips into yours made your head fall onto his shoulder. "You never said anything," you mumbled into his mane.

But he was too busy to respond. With one last harsh lick to your sensitive nipples, he raised his head again to kiss you. You felt his hand leave your rear to push down his pants and you had a moment of clarity; "Don't tear my--"

The sound of ripping filled the room. You lifted your head to give the lion a highly unamused look but he only, once again, licked your cheek to soothe you. Cats, you thought pettily. Just like with your shirt, Brutus--quite literally--tore away the remains of your bottoms to leave you completely bare. Not wanting to waste any more time, he held his member against your entrance. You sucked in a breath; It made sense to assume that he would be big...but this seemed too big. You squirmed against him and he placated you with a kiss on the forehead.

"Be brave, little fox," he said. Then he was pushing into you. The deeper he went the more it felt like air was punched out of you; Stretching out your walls like you'd never experienced before, you held onto him tightly, gasping for breath. Much like the rest of him, his tip was was a sharp point with a bulbous ridge, but still slimmer than the base. Mercifully, he gave you a few moments to adapt to the intrusion, nipping and lapping at your jaw as he waited. Once you no longer struggled to breathe, you tugged at the fur around his head to signal him to move; He lost no time in accepting your sign.

A deep purr like rumble vibrated in his chest as he began to move inside you and you could feel it with your own. His hand returned to your ass you grip it tightly, guiding you as he lifted and pulled you down with it in rhythm to his thrusts. Muffled cries fell from your lips and he stuffed you with his cock, doing nothing but already hitting your G-spot with his thickness. When he pulled on your tail again, the sensitivity mixed with the pleasure and you leaned back in an arch, convulsing with gratification. Brutus shifted his weight, spreading his legs a bit so that he could push better inside you standing up; Pretty quickly, wet noises filled the room, accompanied by measured slapping. As a warrior, Brutus was firm by nature, and as a lion, he was lead by pride--both of these together were a dangerous combination for you.

His sharp canines sank into your skin, making you cry out and tug harder at his mane. His tail whipped to his side, wrapping around your waist and making you feel completely engulfed in his grasp.

"You asked why I didn't tell you," he grunted out with shallow breaths, "But you never told me either."

He gave a particularly hard thrust into you, making his balls press against you, and he gruffly huffed. Your mind was reeling from the pleasure of it all which made you take more than a few moments to respond.

"I--was afraid," you confessed with a shudder as the tension in core core built. You gyrated your hips shakily to match his movements and whining out loud when it only served to add friction against your sensitive groin.

"I never gave you reason to fear me," Brutus complained, squeezing your ass, "I've always protected you."

"Th--This is dif--erent..." You wished this conversation hadn't come up during this time. Seductive pleasure was wracking your body, destroying your ability to think clearly which only barred you from properly communicating with him. Brutus lifted his head, enough so that he could take the tip of your ear into his teeth in a light bite.

Your ear twitched in his caging nip, but he didn't let go, fully riding out the possessive feeling that drowned him from consciousness. When the base of his cock began swelling, stretching you even further, you took it as a sign that he was close. Trying your best, you rocked your weight against him, expending the last of your energy in your legs that helped keep you hoisted up on his hips. But the extra movement helped. With you slamming down onto his cock over and over and over, Brutus growled loudly, and you felt the way his knot moved inside you to lock you in his hold.

With a final tug at the base of your fail, and a tight grip on your rear, Brutus came inside you. His seed was hot and plentiful, effectively warming up your gushy walls and plugging you full to make sure you accepted everything he gave. His hips were pushed impossible deep into yours, the head of his dick making a bulge appear on your stomach. You moaned out wantonly, going stiff in his arms as his orgasm triggered your own; You came hard, contracting around him is sporadic motions as you coped with the large mass sitting inside you, still pressed against the oversensitive bundle of nerves. You hadn't realized how hard you were pulling on Brutus' mane until seconds later after your high faded to a reasonable level. With sore fingers, you released his fur and slugged against him, letting him do all the work in holding you up.

"It's not different," Brutus finally said, his voice much deeper as the lust from essentially breeding you flowed through his veins, "I am your warrior. I'll always stand by your side. Either as a friend, or as a partner."

He then kissed the top of your head, softly releasing his hold on your tail, and moving to find a spot to rest with you still in his arms. You were too gone to garner a reply, already feeling beyond sleepy as you nestled into his warm chest. You mentally promised him that the two of you would talk properly once you rested; Brutus seemed to understand as well.

"Rest. I'll take care of you."

As you dozed off into a sleep still tied to the lion with his knot inside you, you felt him murmur: "I love you".

#afk journey #afk journey x reader #afk journey brutus #afk journey brutus x reader #brutus x reader #brutus

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Inbox check? Wanna know if you still got space or not, don't wanna flood you with too many requests

Thank you for checking! I do still have lots of space; As of right now I only have three requests, one of which is already halfway done ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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18+ request! :)

HI AGAIN, SO UM, NEW THOUGHT OF BRYON

Reader as Merlin, and basically, the whole Dark Forest gang (Lyca, Eironn, Lorsan, and Bryon ofc) are having drinks. Lorsan gets a lil bit toooo affectionate to reader for Bryon, and plus he's starting to get annoyed of Lorsan being a yapper.

And so, Bryon just ends up deciding to fuck reader in the mirror, but he has his blindfold off just bc he wants reader to look at him in the eyes <3

☆*: Reflection

[Tags]: smut | bryon x reader | GN reader

Minors Do Not Interact

[Author’s Note]: anon you mf--affectionately--you're so real for this holy shit. so real. Obviously I had to stop everything because I have sm to say about this; School is temporary but Bryon is forever. arches back.

Edit: this took longer than expected im so sorry anon, wuthering waves came out and I may have spent too much time on it already…btw this isn’t proofread so I’m sorry for any grammar/spelling errors

As the sun glimmered off the horizon, illuminating the world around you a pinkish-orange hue and the sounds of your friends filling the warm atmosphere, you couldn't remember when you'd last felt so serene. It been a while since you had had the opportunity to reunite with all the friends you had made during your time in the Dark Forest; What felt like yesterday was, in reality, already a year ago. Since it's saving, all who were currently present had gone their own way in continuation of playing their role of supporting the forest.

Lyca, who had been officiated as a leader of the forest by Eironn himself, could not say it'd been easy but, still, held no regrets even during the most overwhelming of times. Eironn, who had continued his journey to seek betterment of his swordsmanship, had only returned to celebrate the anniversary of the group's success but carried the most sentiment of you all. Lorsan of course was also in attendance, pausing his travels to return to his home with more than a million stories. And Bryon, who had remained the same throughout the passing time, but reconvening with the gang with more passion…so to say.

As the great magister, you couldn't deny that you had your own fair share of reminiscencing to give the group. The sentimental feeling could be felt in each person, and it showed in the way you all enthusiastically interacted with each other. Sitting together around a circular table situated just outside the wood-built eatery, the five of you conversed enthusiastically--even your hamster familiars had partook in the joyful reunion before falling asleep a few feet away in a pile of leaves. You didn't blame them, the three of you had traveled here all the way from Holistone after needing to meet with General Hogan and his top knight Valen. Although a little tired yourself, you didn't restrain yourself to not accepting the drinks offered up by a waitress.

"--And then, as if I were some mouse instead of rabbit, they told me they me 'rodents weren't allowed'! Could you believe the nerve?! I almost used my skill to summon a gust of wind and blow them off the bridge!" Lorsan exclaimed, holding onto his ears in exasperation as he recounted an event from his wandering. You chuckled at his words, looking towards Eironn as he spoke: "Wait...You mean to tell me you've been a rabbit this whole time? Oh. I was so certain you were some type of chinchilla."

Lorsan made a noise of betrayal, lowering his hands into fists on the table as he leaned forward to the elf across. "Eironn, of all the people here, I never expected you to treat me like this!"

But Eironn only hid his smile behind his cup of tea. The bunny turned towards you, who sat to his left, and pouted, "magister, you don't think I'm a rodent, right?"

You played along with the eldest wilder, retuning a confused, wide-eyed look to the windwhisperer, "I thought so too...Bryon is always calling you a pest, so I assumed..."

At the mention of his name, everyone turned to look at him, including you. You bit back a smile, wanting to laugh especially when Lorsan had called out to the older man in complaint. Bryon remained his normal, calm self, not even flinching as he lifted the teapot to refill his teacup; "I have never, nor will I ever, tell you a lie."

You laughed loudly, not able to hold it back when Lorsan gave a downright confounded look to the older windwhisperer sat on the other side of you. Even Eironn and Lyca snickered in their seats, not offering any defense for the youngest of the group. Slightly inhibited by the alcohol running through your body, you raised a hand to ruffle Lorsan's hair between his ears good-heartedly. The bunny crossed his arms over his chest with the turn of his head so that your hand would fall away; "Don't condescend me! Perhaps I was better of on my own enjoying the world around me. I won't miss you, really!"

"Your promises are fallible," Lyca responded, teasingly deadpan, "You would be the first one crawling back when you miss us."

"Hmph. As if. And even if that were so, then I would really only come back for the magister. The rest of you have been a bad influence so I don't fault them for their behavior and know that in their heart there is kindness! Isn't that right, magister Merlin?!"

You only hummed with a smile, which was all the bunny needed to continue his debate. His tendency to run behind you when the others bullied him with their teasing was nothing new to you, and after so much time witnessing it, you had even grown to view the youngest wilder as your little sibling. Although, it couldn't be said that the perspective was shared by all the others.

To your right, Bryon silently drank his tea with not even a crack in his demeanor. All throughout the evening the antics had been like this; You had refused any more drinks after your second so as to not become inebriated, but Lorsan continued which resulted in him becoming even more emotionally involved with the group. He picked battles with everyone at the table just for fun it felt and had taken to scooting closer to you so he could whisper [read as: yell] into your ear little comments about all the others during his squabbling as if you were on his side. You weren't, you were just here for the show which is why you never pushed him away but instead leaned in, highly entertained.

"If you ask me, Bryon could do to take some of our advice. Walking around barefoot like that has to be a kind of fashion statement," Lorsan snickered to you with a hand cupping his mouth to speak in your ear.

"Lorsan, all of us are barefoot. Even you," Lyca countered.

"I don’t count, and neither do you. If you haven’t noticed, our feet aren’t exactly like theirs. Eironn and magister Merlin wear boots. Bryon, doesn’t it hurt to walk around like that?”

“I feel quite fine,” Bryon responded.

Lorsan huffed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “You must now. I don’t think I have never not seen your toes.”

Bryon stood suddenly, “I’ll be heading in for the night”. Stepping around his stool and pushing it in after himself, he regarded the older two wilders with a nod.

“Alright. It is getting late, we’ll be heading back ourselves shortly,” Eironn said, but at the same time, Lorsan made a noise of protest. The bunny wrapped both arms around your shoulders, hugging onto you from the side; “Nooo! We just got here! I’m not even tired, look, even the magister is still wide-eyed!”

You pat the little brother wilder on his back soothingly to calm his drunken theatrics. Bryon, however, did not appear impressed by the display, and with a twitching ear held out his hand to you.

“Dearest,” he called curtly, “would you accompany me to the room?”

His tone drew your attention—to many others, he would appear normal, acting with his usual reserved speech, but you caught the subtle annoyance laced in his words. Surprised by his mood, you accepted his hand and moved to stand, but Lorsan protested again loudly at your side.

“Magister, don’t leave me! They’re going to bully me again! I’m more fun than that old bird brain,” he protested with an accusing finger pointed at Bryon.

You laughed lightly, once again patting between his ears, saying, “Sorry, Lorsan. I’m a little tired as well. We can continue our celebration tomorrow.”

Bidding the other two a good night as well, you were led away by your partner. Once the two of you were a good distance away, you inquired about his mood; “Is something bothering you, Bryon?”

He didn’t spare a glance at you even as he hummed in discontent. Confused, you tilted your head to think about everything that transpired…was he mad about Lorsan teasing his bare feet? The thought made you chuckle, something that caught the man’s attention.

“What are you laughing about?” He asked you.

“Just about what Lorsan was saying. He really is quite the character,” you mused, linking your arm with his so that you could walk closer to him while leaning your head on his shoulder.

“If there are boundaries then he is the last person to find them”. There it was again, the agitation weaved in his voice. What exactly had sparked that irritation in him? He hadn’t responded when you asked him about it…does that mean it’d been something you’d done?! Concern leaked into your mind as you relived every moment that had lead up to where you were now. To your misfortune, however, you didn’t have much time to reflect because the two of you had reached the room you stayed at. Bryon took care of opening the door, letting you walk in before closing it behind the two of you.

Already adjusted to the night light you made your way to your closet to hang the accessory clothing you wore without bothering to turn the lights on. Thoughts on how to get your windwhisperer to open up to you filtered through your mind, distracting you to the way the person in your thoughts locked your door and closed your blinds before coming up behind you. You were in the middle of removing a hair ornament when Bryon gently grabbed your wrists in his hands, pulling them down to cross behind your back. A questioning look made your expression.

“Bryon…?” You asked, turning your head to the side to watch the other. But he offered no words of explanation, only leaning forward until his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The warmth of his soft breaths made a shiver run down your spine.

“What’s wrong?” Bryon finally whispered, “Do you feel uncomfortable with me so close?”

His words tickled were spoken directly into your ear and his honey smooth voice murmuring so close filled you with something you couldn’t describe; You only pushed down the feeling to focus on the situation at hand. With a shake of your head, you responded, “No, it’s not that—”

“Good.” Bryon interrupted, “Because it didn’t seem like much a problem when Lorsan behaved the same.”

That statement caught you by surprise; Perking up, you attempted to turn around to face him only for Bryon’s hands to tighten around your wrists, keeping you in place.

“Is that what has you grumpy?” You asked incredulously, “Why, you know more than any of us how affectionate he is—much more so when he’s drunk.”

“Too much so,” Bryon corrected, “I’ve found that there is something more grating than his ceaseless prattling…”

He pressed a soft kiss to your ear—an action that you had not realized at the time to be falsely calming. A small smile formed on your face as you listened to his words, understanding him to be sulking. The last time you had seen him this way was quite some time ago when Elona had taken to playing with your hamster familiars instead of accompanying him in his free time. That novelty had not lasted long, however, when eventually Chippy had gotten a little too frightened by the bird’s play hunting and called the quits in hanging out with her. Bryon had assumed an air of attached indifference when the bird returned to him, but you could see the hidden smile on his lips as he stroked her feathers. The memory made you want to laugh a little, but that urge was quickly replaced by breathlessness when the wilder spoke the end of his sentence with a pitch deeper tone: “Him touching you like you are his.”

Saying that, he moved his kiss to press it behind your ear before moving down to plant another near the hinge of your jaw just below your ear. You sighed at the feeling; “I don’t think he meant any harm. He’s just full of emotions.”

“Even so, that does not discredit what I say. Being near to you, touching you like this, is a privilege that only I have. He could never do so, even if he dreamt it, do you agree?”

His words were spoken against your skin, heating the expanse of his trailing kisses. The grip on your wrists never waned, even when he used only one hand to hold them together while his other lifted to caress your neck.

“Even if he could, that doesn’t mean I would let him. He’s nothing if not my family—like a little brother,” you said back, not really sure why you were defending the rabbit when there was nothing to defend. You knew there were no intentions behind Lorsan’s behavior tonight, and his overly affectionate tendencies were only heightened with alcohol.

“Oh? Is that so? You think he could make you feel the way I do? Hold you like this—kiss you, like this?” To show his question, Bryon moved his hand from your neck to your chin to turn it towards him so that he could kiss you deeply. Already one to be weak to the windwhisperer, you folded quite quickly but held yourself in check to see where it got you. The angle made the kiss messier than normal causing your breath to be lost to you more quickly as you put effort into returning Bryon’s kiss and holding your head to the side. Deep interest drenched the kiss as Bryon licked your lips in askance to be let in; Of course you had no obligations, letting his tongue massage against yours.

The atmosphere heat up fast with the kiss alone leaving you gasping for breath after only a couple of minutes like this. When he finally broke the kiss, you had a light flush on your face from the lack of air. If Bryon was affected by the kiss he didn’t show it because his next actions found him replacing his tongue with two fingers so that his kiss could linger down along your jaw.

“Do you think he thought of you like this when he was whispering in your ear? How you look flustered and out of breath?” Bryon prodded your tongue with his fingers in instruction for you to close your lips around them, so you did. You sucked lightly, moving your tongue around them as Bryon focused his attention on the pulse point beneath your jaw. He mimicked your actions only much harsher in order to leave his mark—no one would be able to deny that you were his with it shown.

You couldn’t respond to his words with his fingers in your mouth, so you only made little noises in your throat. Those noises, however, seemed to have been misinterpreted; “If you have tricked yourself into believing it true, then I must show you the answer.”

He removed his fingers, pulling his hand away completely to undo your top as he walked you to your bed, never moving from behind you. After your top, he stripped you of your bottoms, leaving behind a trail of clothes until he finally had you against your bed, bent over the edge with your face in the sheets. Leaning over you, he bent down to nip at the back of your neck before kissing down your spine. His free hand moved to hold the inside of your thigh from the back, using his hold to spread your legs wide enough for him to work.

When he reached the base of your spine, he lowered himself onto his knees, saying, “My dearest, I should make you forget any names other than my own. Be good for me and don’t hold back.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond because suddenly his tongue was on you. You twitched stay the pleasurable feeling, already enraptured by the feeling of his warm, wet tongue licking at you entrance. It was unlike him to dive right into it considering he was so fond of foreplay, but his emotions had gotten the best of him. With a mixture of jealousy and annoyance filling his heart, Bryon couldn’t help but chase relief for his emotional stats. Even if that relief came in the form of fucking you to tears.

His ears were attentive to all the sounds filling the room, searching most desperately for the ones you made. You squirmed under his hold, your fingers clenching making your nails dig into your palms as you panted in effort to sort through the sensations flooding your body. The hand holding your thigh rotated to relieve the pressure on his wrist but didn’t slacken the push to elevate your leg—in fact, it pressed into you harder to raise your leg higher, exposing more of yourself to his avid mouth. If you listened close enough, you could almost hear the slick sound of his tongue teasing your nerves, his saliva mixing with your falling juices. You whimpered out quietly, enjoying his actions but feeling like it was not quite enough when his tongue only prodded without entry. When you tried to shift your weight closer to his face, he squeezed your wrists, pulling away to say, “You seem to be enjoying yourself. Tell me, darling, who is it that has you this eager?”

You sighed at the loss of his mouth on you, taking a moment to gather your thoughts as his question registered in your mind. Breathily, you responded, “you do.”

“‘You’?” Bryon parroted, “I see.”

He stood up completely, pulling you up to follow him with gentle hands but firm guidance. A noise of surprise left you when he first moved you, but it didn’t take much more than a few seconds for him to situate you in front of the body-length mirror placed against the wall. Looking at your reflection, you grew shy at the sight of you fully naked before Bryon who still wore his light-colored over robe. You didn’t even notice when he’d undressed himself, ridding himself of his wing-like half cloak and pants.

The wilder lowered the two of you to your knees in-front of the mirror and you felt his blindfolded gaze persistent on your reflection. Pulling your wrists back, he made you lean against his front so that your your weight would be shifted off your knees and distributed throughout your legs instead. Like this, he moved his unoccupied hand to bluntly cup your slick heat instead. You shuddered at the feeling.

“I’m afraid you still don’t understand,” leaning over your shoulder, he kissed the underside of your jaw, “When I ask for a name, I expect it to be mine. Who else if not me? Lorsan?”

“No, if I think of him at this time it’s only because you bring him up. There’s none other that I would think of, being like this.” You spoke honestly, gathering the confidence to look back at him in the mirror. You didn’t expect the sight to be at steamy as it was—him holding you in his hand, your essence leaking through his fingers making them glisten. The look on your face was dazed, your chest heaving slightly bringing attention to the erect buds on your chest. Despite how steady Bryon looked in the mirror, you could tell that it was not true; With your back pressed against his front, you could feel his anticipation. His member was hidden behind the robe he worse, but you felt the stiffness of it on your back and you had the fleeting thought of wanting to rub against it.

However, the wilder didn’t let you indulge yourself because he tsked at your response. “Someone as smart as you, great magister Merlin, should know it’s unwise to make comments like that. You only make me believe another is really, truly on your mind. I don’t consider myself to be possessive, but dearest, you make me want to claim you. To let everyone else know that you chose me to be your partner. That only I have been ordained to your most secret pleasures.”

He pulled his hand away from your groin to resume his hold on your inner thigh, pressing into it so that you would spread it open. Like this, even the most hidden spots on your body were vulnerable to the cool air of the room. Still watching your reflection, you gazed down lower to see his hand trace a light path up to your entrance. He looked up from your neck, “And I realize there is nothing stopping me from doing just that.”

Firmly, he used two fingers to collect your dripping fluid. You believed he was going doing so with intent to use it as lubricant for his entry into you, but had your breathe knocked out of you when he lifted his fingers to his mouth instead. As if craving it, Bryon licked his fingers clean, humming deeply as he savored the taste of you; You had even felt his member twitch against your back. You bit the inside of your lip, committing the moment to memory and feeling your hole clench around nothing. Bryon didn’t rush himself to enjoy your presence which is a fact that made you melt but also slightly frustrated you. Why did he chose now of all times to initiate foreplay?!

Squirming against him, you spread your knees open more—throughly avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror knowing you most likely looked like a desperate mess—in hopes that he would be enticed enough to act. He was. Your movement took his attention away from his fingers and you heard him breathe deeply against the back of your neck.

“So impatient…” he murmured, “But you’re right. You still have a lesson to learn.”

With that, he lowered his hand between the two of you, shifting behind you to hoist the front of his robe to the side. Immediately, you felt the heat of his member and the precut leaking out of it as the tip rubbed against the skin of your back. A whine you couldn’t control slipped out of you, more following when he had softly begun to slowly rut against you.

“Look at you, still only the beginning and already so deliciously ready. Tell me who the only one to make you feel like this is?” Bryon murmured into your ear.

“You are, only you. Please, now, hurry up.” Slightly arching your back, you fidgeted against him. But the windwhisperer only held you still. There was a momentary silence to which only heightened your need, but Bryon’s discontent with your response had him considering his actions. Stubborn, he thought…No matter, he was a patient man.

So he chose to indulge you; He wrapped a hand around his shaft and slid it down between your legs. Try as you might, you couldn’t look away from the scene reflected before you; Bryon’s dick already wept with his own juices and all it took was his hand rubbing it to create a coat of lubricant that would help him ease into your aching hole. He grunted at his quick self-induced pleasure before aligning his tip to your entrance. Moving his hand out of view, he gripped your thigh, tensing his fingers into the soft skin of it as he finally slid himself into you.

You moaned loudly, transfixed by the sight of him bottoming out and the feeling of him stretching you out. Taking a couple seconds to adjust, you dropped your head against his shoulder—an action that he was quick to correct.

“No, darling. You must watch. Since you don’t seem to learn by feeling alone, you must use your sight. Come on, look straight ahead. Look at the way I fit inside you so perfectly; Look at how much your dripping. Look at your expression,” as he spoke, Bryon began to move his hips slowly and shallowly, “So overwhelmed already. Have you been expecting this all night? Behaving so coquettishly with others just to rile me up?”

You shook your head, “No…I didn’t mean anything…”. The words you spoke were hard to focus on when he pushed himself in so deep it felt like his tip brushed your stomach. Soft moans spilled from your tongue as you struggled to keep your attention on the mirror’s image. Dazedly watching the way Bryon’s member pulled out of you before pushing all the way back into you at a pace that was slower than a snail. Your fingers flexed in urge to hold onto him, the skin of your wrists slightly irritated after being held so long in a tight grip. His speed—or lack thereof—was killing you; He was going so slow that you could only think of all the pleasure you should have.

Your cries of exasperation made Bryon smile subtly as he enjoyed working you up; If you knew the tension he inflicted upon himself by moving slow then you’d almost feel better for yourself. But he kept his composure, “What’s the matter, dearest?”

“When you,” you breathed, “said I’d learn my lesson…I didn’t think you meant it in this way.”

His open hand moved to your front, dipping a finger into your weeping slit and massaging it passively, making your hips twitch. “Not enjoying yourself? But your body is telling me different, look at how it responds,” he told you with added pressure of his fingers.

“I’d—hah—I’d enjoy it more if you went faster. Please,” you said, conflicted on wether you should wiggle you hips up into his hand or down onto his cock.

“And I would enjoy it more if you appeased my tormented heart, yet here we are,” Bryon said, his tone full of feigned dismay, “One of us is bound to relent sooner or later. I wonder who it’ll be? Wouldn’t it be so fulfilling if you simply called out my name—loud enough for all others, for Lorsan himself, for head?”

Your eyes shifted to his blindfolded ones in the mirror, “Perhaps, but how could I if I’m not feeling it?!“

Bryon’s hips snapped into yours suddenly with a newfound force, knocking the air out of your lungs. Giving you no time to adapt to his brutal pace, Bryon pulled your wrists down to make you lean further into him. Slapping noises filled the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his thrusts and you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers continuously massaged the area around your slit, focusing primarily on the area with the most sensitivity. The depth of his thrusts was numbing, the pace making his tip rub over the spot that made you see stars faster than you could cope with. Burning waves over pleasure coursed through your body, forcing loud, crying moans to fall from your lips.

“Oh gods,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder once again. Just as abruptly as he started, he stopped and you almost sobbed out at the sudden cut of flowing pleasure.

“Look at me, darling. Don’t take your eyes off the mirror,” he scolded. Desperate to reach your high you lifted your head, dazedly looking at the mirror. He began his movements again with the same rhythm as before.

“Does this make you feel better, my dear? Do you remember who the only one who could make you feel like this is?” He asked you, voice low in your ear, the grumbling tone mixing with his heavy breathing. You could’ve came with that alone.

You nodded your head quickly, “yes, yes. You, Bryon, only you make me feel this good.”

“That’s a good magister, hmm? Come on, let the others know as well.”

Giving in to what he wanted, you increased your volume, moaning out his name as wantonly as you could—whatever you needed to do to keep him going. Bryon didn’t object, reveling in your cries. His balls slapped against your skin, adding that extra stimulus in tandem with his fingers; Looking into the mirror, you could practically see the mess the two of you were making on the floor, soaking it with a mixture of sexual fluids. You watched his dick disappear into your hole, clenching around him at the sight causing him to groan. His own pleasures noises caught your attention, making you look back up at him through the mirror. Bryon caught your eye.

Without pausing him thrusts, he released one of your wrists, telling you, “take it off”, and you understood immediately. With an unsteady arm, you reached up to his face, using the mirror to guide you as you hooked a finger around his blindfold before pulling it down.

Beneath it, his eyes shone, glimmering with dark lust. His focus was sharp, and already he was staring straight back into your eyes. The rare view of his eyes, the direct eye contact, it made your head spin. You almost cursed him for wearing the blindfold in the first place, but chose to attend to the sensations at hand. With his blindfold off, Bryon was exposed to so much more than just the sound of you falling apart under his lust. He was absolutely entranced by how you looked, face flushed, eyes glazed, neck littered with his marks, heaving chest covered with a sheen layer of sweat, and a sopping mess in between the legs—he couldn’t be blamed if he orgasmed on the spot. Unable to look away from the sight of you being fucked right, he didn’t even mind that you had not returned the hand that he released. With it, you held onto the back of his neck.

“‘m close,” you panted, torn between rushing towards your peak of running away to keep this moment lasting forever. Your eyes fell shut momentarily, relishing in the overwhelming tension in your core.

“Open your eyes, darling. I would regret stopping now. I want to see you,” Bryon gave a particularly deep thrust to make you open your eyes again. The action, however, was all you needed to be pushed over the edge.

With fluttering eyelashes, you tried hard to keep his gaze, but your orgasm crashed into you. Your legs spammed as you came, hips stuttering against his thrusts, and you felt that you were leaving scratches all along his neck. You changed his name like a prayer as you arched your back, wanting to both escape the onslaught the sensation of him still filling you and chase it. Even your hole convulsed around him, making him moan in effort to continue through the feeling.

Wet eyes stared back at him in the mirror, your voice begging him—what for, neither of you weren’t exactly sure. He took in your wrecked appearance in the mirror, and the urge to big down onto your neck to leave one more mark controlled him. While he never regret his decision to hide his vision, he did wish he could see you like this forever. You looked so good, so divine, so seductive that it made his dick twitch with want. The thought of any others seeing you like this filled Bryon with a bitter feeling—one that he took out on you.

The closer he got to his high, the more relentless he became, his tip abusing your oversensitive bundle of nerves even as you came down from your high. It took you looking at him with a downright sexed out expression to make him tumble over the edge. With a quick speed, he pulled out of you just in time to blow his load onto the mirror surface. He took his hand from you to fist his cock, milking it dry as he groaned out your name, his own eyes falling shut.

It was the hottest sight you might ever see; Although you were exhausted, you couldn’t help the flash of lust that shot through you. Watching him breath heavily, and his seed splattered all across the mirror, you leaned your weight against him.

“You should keep this off more often,” you joked weakly, tugging the the blindfold around his neck.

“What would you have to look forward to if I did?”

#afk journey #afk journey x reader #bryon afk journey #bryon x reader #afk journey bryon x reader

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HELP, I LITERALLY WOKE UP AND SAW YOU ALREADY DOING MY REQUEST?? AND ALSO, YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT, I FR WANNA BE BRYON'S S/O AND HAVE A KID WITH HIM 😭😭

bryon mmmm yummy, it’s nothing but tunnel vision with him. your request literally made my night too, my brain expanded with the genius of it all. riders for bryon(more like riding himWHO SAID THAT)

[httpsbearily]

18+ request! :)

literally just knowing the fact that bryon (afkj) doesn't like anything loud + yappers, but just hearing reader blabber and cry in pleasure while he fucks them rough, and then hears them yap while bryon sets up a bath tub for the both of them gets me kicking my feet fr 😭😭

[Tags]: smut | bryon x reader | GN reader

Minors Do Not Interact

[Author’s Note]: omfg anon your idea just saved my life. I literally had to respond to this as soon as I saw it—I could talk about this mf for days someone hold me back bcs for a dude who’s pretty reserved he sure does give a lot of praise. If I hear him tell me “brilliantly done” one more time I’m gonna bear his child. Don’t even play.

༄ Bryon was not an unknown presence in Lunadorf, in fact it was quite the opposite; Between his sharp skills and truly handsome face, he was pretty popular especially amongst the ladies.

༄ Bryon was not a stranger to people talking about him—even if half the time their words were said behind his back because he really was just so intimidating with his silent presence—he only wished they did so much more quietly.

༄ For Bryon, the world was a noise box and the people tended to be the orchestra. While he had honed his ability to filter out some of the unnecessary noises, it was never completely silent for him. A price he paid for his Misarte touched hearing.

༄ Because of his hypersensitivity, Bryon especially disliked people who incessantly chattered about nonsensical stuff [cough-Lorsan-cough]. Their blabbering would only end with him overstimulated by the end of it making him appear even more cold and detached than before.

༄ Bryon wasn’t particularly fond of loud noises either for the same reason; Anytime a sound reverberated a pitch to loud, his ears would flinch, his face twitching into a grimace.

༄ Choosing to avoid conflict, Bryon would much rather be away from the crowd up on a stone arch or trailing behind his group of friends. That way he could still be part of his community whilst still having his peace of mind.

༄ None of that was ever true with you though; A feature that none other could even dream of having because you were special. You were dating the reclusive man.

༄ Your relationship was very slow to start and of course you had fallen for him first, but he fell harder. Much harder. Absurdly and infuriatingly harder.

༄ Bryon didn’t take long to realize that in a crowd of people, he would search for your voice; And in a silent room he would listen for your heartbeat. Something about your sounds were just so…pleasing. Soft on his ears even if you were loud. He could listen to you talk all day about nothing in particular and still miss your voice when you were gone.

༄ It was safe to say that, for the very reason of him loving your noises, the windwhisperer often sought out ways to make you talk. And oh, did he try everything.

༄ As it turns out, the sound of his name falling from your lips tainted with seductive ecstasy and carrying the scent of pleasure was his favorite sound of them all. He would never outrightly admit it, but he desired you in this state carnally and constantly. You just made him irrational.

༄ This much was especially true on the days he found himself overwhelmingly stressed or over sensitive and fed up with all others.

༄ When he silently entered your house and pulled you away from cutting vegetables so that you could embrace him, you knew it was one of those days.

༄ Almost instinctively your body reacted and you became pliant in his grasp, letting him take the lead as he kissed you with a bit more force than normal and holding your waist more tightly.

༄ Bryon pulled your hips against his and you already began to rut up against him. Your moans had started out soft, quiet, and breathy as he worked his hands to undress you, not once caring about his own garments.

༄ By the time he kissed down your neck and teased your nipples with his tongue and lips, you were already leaking onto your own legs. His hands always ghosted and flittered around the area you needed him most but never quite planted them down which had you whining out to him.

༄ Your whimpers turned into full out begging when even after half an hour, Bryon did nothing but tease your entrance, litter your neck with hickies, and pinch the hard buds on your chest, never once giving you full satiation in any area of your body.

༄ It took you continuously bucking against his hands, tears brimming your eyelashes, and voice shaking with desperation as you pleaded for him to please fuck me already for him to finally do anything.

༄ When he did, he went full force. Bryon relieved himself from his clothes (his sleeves were already wet with your leakage) and used your fluids to lubricate himself before sliding into your hole in one stroke.

༄ Positioning you to lean with your back against your kitchen table, he held onto your hips as a way to keep the both of you steady so that he could move with more control. With a quick pace, Bryon snapped his hips into yours making sure he reached deep inside you before he pulled back only to repeat the motion.

༄ To say you were a wreck would be an understatement; Already having been on edge for the past half hour or so, you were already close to your peak. You tried to hold out, you really did, but with his dick filling you up so fully and his mouth sucking on your nipples, it was an impossible mission.

༄ With trembling moans flowing off your tongue, you came hard, your walls clenching tightly around Bryon’s dick to which he hissed at.

༄ Bryon didn’t stop at your orgasm though. No, he was perhaps only halfway to his own high, so poor little you would have to just take it like the good darling you were. After all, you were doing so well thus far, you could still keep going for him, couldn’t you?

༄ So, fucking you through your high, straight into oversensitivity, Bryon continued to thrust into you. This time though, he would murmur words of encouragement to appease you while his fingers massaged your hips.

༄ You seemed to babble out moans, cries, and pleads that told him you were so sensitive but at the same time asked him to please don’t stop. You were torn by the burning pleasure and the stinging that came from abused nerves.

༄ With his ears so near to your face, the sound of your pleasure soaked sobbing filled his senses, serving to heighten his pleasure. His own moans had begun to slip from his lips, overrun by the feeling of your warm walls sucking him deeper into your hole and the sound of your sexed-out voice breaking with overuse.

༄ It was becoming too much for him; He was so close to tipping over the peak. It just so happened that you were approaching your second climax as well.

༄ This time around, your orgasm gripped you like a vice and you could only let out a silent cry as it overtook your entire body. You arched your back on the kitchen table, you toes curling and your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. You didn’t event realize the you were digging your nails into Bryon’s back, leaving angry marks across the skin.

༄ It was your wanton cry’s of pleasure that pushed Bryon over the edge, making him pant loudly as he spurt his seed into you, painting your inside completely white. His body seized as his orgasm thrummed through his veins, drowning him in an immense pleasure that he almost never wanted to resurface from.

༄ His cock twitched inside you when you contracted around him at the feeling of his cum filling you up, and he held your hips down in an attempt to keep you still.

༄ You we’re exhausted, so thoroughly bred that there was nothing on your mind except white noise. You still whimpered as you came down from your high, but Bryon didn’t rush you—choosing instead to indulge in your quieting noises.

༄ When enough time passed, the windwhisperer peeled himself away from your body—pushing away the pleasure that welled up inside of him at the sound of your soft cries when he pulled out—and gingerly grabbed you into his arms.

༄ He carried you into the bathroom, setting you down in his lap as he sat on the edge of the tub that he began to fill with warm water so that the two of you could wash up together. All through this, you murmured softly about how it felt good, how he was so good, and how much you loved him.

༄ None of what you were saying was being registered in your mind, but Bryon appreciated it anyway. After all, the sound of you was his favorite in the whole world.

#afk journey #afk journey x reader #afk journey bryon #afk journey bryon x reader #bryon x reader #bryon afk journey

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Just woke up and read my request and 😭😭😭omg it's absolutely amazing!!!

I love it so much, you wrote him perfectly, thank you!! <33

— Niru Anon

yayyy I’m happy you liked it and also so glad to have had the opportunity to write him ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ thank you for requesting!! ♡

[httpsbearily]

18+ request!!

Would you be able to do something with Niru from AFK Journey, please? Maybe some body inspection, Niru completely fascinated by the Readers anatomy, finding out all the "sweet spots" that make the Reader go completely insane before eventually giving the Reader exactly what it needs?

Hope you can do something with that, thank you!! <3

☆*: Doctor’s Diagnosis

[Tags]: smut | niru x reader | GN reader

Minors Do Not Interact!

[Author’s Note]: my very first request yippiee!!! I was super excited to write this omg you have no idea. Just one thing: if Niru appears in the story then I have yet to meet him so Im soooo sorry if he's OOC. Also, I hope this is what you meant by body inspection because I got a little carried away with the graveborn x human trope mmm yummy

Exhaustion weighed down your body, seeming to anchor every step you took and making you fight to your life’s end just to raise them. You didn’t even know where you were or were you were going—your conscious abilities had shut down some time ago and your body was relying solely on its instinct to survive. Despite the fact that the deep wound on your shoulder hadn’t stopped bleeding since it was struck on you, your hazy mind had accepted the warmth the blood had provided as it soaked your clothes…it almost felt peaceful, like an embrace.

In full honesty, your current state was the consequence of your own brash actions. All your life you had dreamt of holding a title of a knight in the Heroic Order; With blood, sweat, and tears you had trained devotedly. You had braved dark nights out in nature to hone your perceptive skilled, you had braved each season for the sake of sharpening your archery skills, you had even braved the loneliness that came with a life’s dedication to nothing but the bow. You thought you were ready. You thought you all but had an official H.O. title ranking. You thought you dreams would finally become a reality.

But you thought wrong.

“You excel at the bow,” the overseer of the campaign had told you, “but without a sword you’re as good as dead in a war. Even master archers rely on a blade to defend themselves in a breach of defense.”

And just like that your world had came crashing down. You had spent all your life perfecting the art of the bow-and-arrow that the thought of swordsmanship had never even crossed your mind. To think that a piece of metal would be your downfall….you wouldn’t let it.

With Dura as my witness, you had sworn to yourself, I will become a knight.

So [stupidly] you had left the campaign grounds, went home, packed a backpack full of essentials, and left Holistone. On your way out of the city you purchased a black iron sword from some blacksmith; It took you some time to adjust to the weight of it. It was much different from the bow, especially with its weight distributed in a way that was a complete opposite to what you were used to. Without so much as a goodbye to family and friends—sending Dura a prayer in askance that she keep them safe —you marched down the dirt paths of Espiria and willed yourself not to turn around. You would be back soon, you were determined to grasp the sword art faster than you had a bow.

With this misplaced confidence you thrust yourself into battles blindly, starting off with one of the lower threat hypofiends and slowly leveling up once your ability increased. All things considered, your situation was going fine. You hadn’t suffered any major injuries in the weeks you had been gone, and you had picked up a sword trick or two. Really, you had progressed just as you’d hoped. The problem now was fighting real threats.

Of course all this time you wandered the lands you had kept your bow and quiver securely attached to you back just in case, but you had not used them once—you didn’t let yourself. Perhaps that was the tipping point of your downfall. When you had stumbled into a gurgling camp, you hadn’t noticed the massive leader resting in the shadows with its barbed club. You didn’t notice it until it was too late. In the midst of fending off the hoard of smaller gurgling, the leader had roared and swung its weapon into you. Because it was dramatically large, you had [miraculously] managed to avoid a killing strike with a last second dodge, but at the same time, one of the barbs had caught your shoulder. The metal point tore into your skin, ripping a deep gash from your collar bone to the end of your shoulder blade. Immediately you had cried out in agony, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had allowed you to switch your sword to your other hand and swing the blade at the hand of the leader. Although you had missed a critical strike, you had deferred the leader enough for it to pull its club away and step back in a dodge. Within that split second you had turned and sprinted away.

For a short while you heard the gruglin gang chasing after you, but once you had successfully escaped you slowed to a walk. At first, the searing heat of your wound had you nauseous with pain, but you could only heave out hoarse gasps and trudge forward to find a safe place to tend to yourself. After what felt like hours though, you seemed to forget the pain. In fact, you had begun feeling like you were out on a casual stroll back in Holistone. If it weren’t for the intense tiredness that wracked your body, your dizzy mind trick you entirely.

Rest, your body screamed at you, rest rest rest.

Keep moving, you willed back.

But it came to a point where you could no longer hold yourself up and collapsed on the ground. You lay motionless, panting shallowly and staring blankly up into the night sky. The stars were quite beautiful tonight, you wondered if your family thought so too.

Minutes passed with you simply admiring the constellations like this, you had even reached your arm up to trace some out with your fingers. The sound of leaves crunching under soft footsteps almost escaped your awareness—almost. With a start you jumped to your feet and held your iron sword in front of you in a defensive position.

“Who’s there?” You demanded in question, straining your eyes to see in the night.

“How peculiar,” a grave voice said, “you hold a sword in front of you, but your body is not designed for it.”

It felt like the voice was coming from all directions and you felt you heart rate pickup. With darting eyes, you began to slowly spin around in search of the intruder.

“My body design is of no matter to you. Leave, now. I don’t wish to harm you.” You spoke, but you didn’t know to who and it was raising your stress levels, making you dramatize the threat the longer this went on.

“It matters more than you think. Let me have a closer look.”

Before you could think about their words, you felt cold hands grasp your forearms. You let out a noise of surprise, dropping your sword as you moved in attempt to escape—however, the hands were like an iron grip. It was like your thrashing was futile as the hands stretched your arms out away from your body, moving them like this was some sort of skeletal examination.

“Hey, get off of me!” You exclaimed.

“Hmm…yes, I see. Your arms hold strength here,” as the voice spoke, the cold hands massaged with pressure the muscle connecting your forearm to your inner elbow before moving to your tricep in emphasis to his words, “and here. These are not the points of a swordsman.”

“What are you, some kind of doctor?” You sneered.

“Yes, my life’s work. I can tell your design is quite perfect, even your soul is quintessential. Yes. You’ll be exemplar.” The hands finally let you go so you swiveled around. Before you stood a tall—extremely tall—man. From a glowing green lantern he held you could see that he was…otherworldly to be quite frank. He had long gray hair that reached his waist and he was dressed in some kind of black skirt that was so long it dragged on floor, covering even his feet. His shirt—top…armor…?— was black as well and matching to his skirt, both of which appeared to have ghoulish green accents. To his left stood a large scythe that he seemed to plant in the ground so that it could stand on its own. Even that weapon showed a pattern sporting the same glowing green color. On his head he wore a black crown with, surprise, green stones. What shocked you the most, however, were his magnificently green eyes which were quite literally glowing.

A quick and fleeting thought crossed your mind, transcendent, but you shooed it away by narrowing your eyes at the self-proclaimed doctor.

“What are you talking about? My soul? Who are you?” You interrogated, willing yourself to not get too carried away with your admiring.

“I don’t particularly like it when my patients incessantly chatter. It disrupts my examination.”

You crossed your arms, “Some doctor you are. I’d call it a quack.”

The man only grinned—at least you thought so, he seemed to have a permanent wicked smile on his face—and brought his hands together in a shape that looked like he held an invisible orb. As if directing some kind of energy to the center of them, the space in between illuminated a soft white color. “Souls are the most vital organ of a body. Most burn yellow, but yours is white. Why is that? I must find out.”

Then the soft glow went out, and it felt to go pitch black for a split second before you felt those cold hands around you once again. Soft wisps of green hue flowed around you but for some strange reason you weren’t nervous. If anything, you had never felt more relaxed. Because of this you had allowed the hands to feel your skin, simply watching as the man moved your joints and felt along where your veins would trail.

“Why are you so interested in my soul?” You quietly asked, not wanting to disturb the focused man.

“Souls are life.”

You didn’t understand, only raising and eyebrow in curiosity as you gazed on, “You want life?”

“No. To be mortal is to be weak. My purpose is to understand the strength that comes from mortality,” he told you. “The brighter the soul the stronger the bond to life, and yours is blinding. Do you not wish to have power?”

“What are you on about? I don’t see anything.”

“You will. Once I complete my work. Where is your bow?”

“My bow—how did you know I wield a bow?!”

You looked up at the man with surprise only to find him interested in your shoulder. He pressed his fingers into the joints of them and you shuddered.

“After so many years spent on a battle field, you learn to recognize traits. Strongpoints. How fascinating, you can mark death with an arrow yet stab with a blade. What is it? Passion? Duty? Your design is mixed, impure. There’s not many I’ve seen like this,” The more the man spoke, the more his voice dropped until he had begun to mumble to himself more than speak to you. He released his pressure on your shoulder joints and instead trailed his hands down to your back following the edge of your shoulder blades. As their path lowered, his fingertips pressed certain points into the skin and each one caused your breath to skip.

One particular spot had you flinch away with a gasp, to which the doctor hummed, “how interesting…”, while pressing into it again it again.

“Hey!” You yelped, moving to escape the surprisingly sensitive feeling. But the man put one hand on your waist to keep you locked in place, not even giving you a sign that he had paid attention to your feelings. As he stood behind you, his hands roaming along your back, you couldn’t help but heighten your senses. Only being able to see him if you turned your head, you switched to rely on your hearing and feeling—not your best move. Not when you’d always felt particularly ticklish on your back.

You continued to squirm in his grasp, your heart rate beginning to pick up the more he massaged into the sensitive points on your back. When he spoke up again, finally, his voice was near your ear, “Show me your aim position.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, “I…don’t have my bow. It broke during battle.”

“Your body remembers the pose, even without it. Show me,” he instructed you, growing more cold as he did so.

So you did. When his hand released your waist, you adjusted yourself in a way that looked like you were pulling back the string of your bow. He made a noise of approval and quickly went back to checking you out. You still weren’t sure what he was doing but you were at least thankful that he seemed less and less like a threat to your safety.

“What do you feel here,” he asked, not giving you a second to process his question before he dug his fingers into your rib cage. Immediately you had faltered in pose, and he tusked.

“Stay still and hold your position.” But he repeated the movement and you bit your lip to give yourself strength.

“It feels,” you searched for a word, “tender.”

“Here?”

“…I don’t feel affected.”

“Here?”

“Nothing.”

He made a noise of discontent, pulling back his hands altogether as considering you with thoughtful eyes still standing behind you. It stayed like this for a few seconds, making your curiosity grow. You wanted to ask again, but his expression seemed like he wanted nothing but to be concentrated. How long would this go on for exactly? You weren’t sure what time it was, but it wouldn’t be night forever and you had to be on your way.

Just as you were about to voice your concerns, his hands shot out to hold your neck while his thumbs pressed into a highly vulnerable spot. A sensation shot through you and you accidentally let out a whimper—to which your face flushed but you didn’t dare move to cover it with your hands. Chancing a look at the mysterious doctor, you realized that he had a satisfied grin on his face.

Without warning, he flitted his mouth over the spot he had found, replacing his hands for his teeth as he bit into it lightly. A shudder wracked your body and you were almost sure that you had whined. The doctor didn’t seem to mind your behavior though because he continued to graze your skin, his right hand still holding the side of your neck as he kept you still with it. His left hand slithered under your shoulder and over your chest so that he could grasp your jaw with it and tilt it upwards to expose more of your neck.

A strange feeling had began to curl up inside you, it felt like a mixture of warm pleasure and cool emptiness. You didn’t really understand it, but with your growing fuddled mind, you only pushed it away.

“There,” the doctor said when he finally pulled away, “A crack in the surface. But I’ll need more. Tell me, where else are you so sweet?”

He dropped his hands to your wrists, holding one in each to feel the pulse. You didn’t offer any words, still trying to keep up with the turn of events—but it wasn’t as if he was expecting you to. Nothing deterred the man as he dragged his fingertip fairly up your arms, not stopping even when he reached your shoulder and began moving downwards. Tickled by his light touch on your waist, you had tensed your muscles, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of him pressing into the inner softness of your pelvic bone. Never before had you realized how fragile the nerves there would be with someone else’s touch against them. Although it hadn’t been as significant as your neck, the doctor still seemed pleased with the elicited response. He crawled his fingers across the lowest expanse of your abdomen with an interested hum.

“Getting colder it appears,” he murmured into your ear from behind and you could faintly feel his lips against the tip.

You gnawed your lip—wether in anticipation or overstimulation you couldn’t tell, you only knew that you were turned on and had the increasingly soaking wetness in your pants as obvious evidence.

The man held confidence in all his actions as if he was so sure of his behavior with you and how to map you out. Through his trial and error, he found his hands creeping underneath the fabric of your bottoms. With a smile full of intentions that could feel against your skin, he lowered his mouth to lick against the nap of your neck. He knew where one weak point was that would have your soul leaking out, but he wondered if there were more—and if so, where? As a researcher, he would only have his answers through one method: experimentation.

With his large scythe still situated in the ground somewhere nearby it provided a low glow that somewhat helped you to see. The light of it allowed you to look down to watch as the doctor’s hands disappeared beneath your clothes. It was electrifying to feel his hands nimble around the perimeter of your groin without actually being able to see it, and with the [surprising] warmth of his tongue dragging across the back of your neck you had began to let out sighs.

You squirmed against the man, only now realizing how cages in you were trapped within his arms and held close to his front. A small voice in the furtherest shadow of your brain had told you that you didn’t even know who this man was, but it was easily overwhelmed by said man’s presence. Was it so wrong to indulge in spontaneous? It’s not like you were defenseless, you were sure you still had your sword around…somewhere. Not like it mattered, it must have been your luck that brought the wickedly good-looking doctor your way.

“Tell me,” the man’s gravely voice said against your neck. “How does this feel?”

He fingers pressed into the grooves of your inner pelvic where a dip lie between the hip and the leg. You tried to adjust yourself—his hands were so near. So near yet so far. If you could only shift just a little then you would be able to—

“Focus on me, my dear. I need answers.”

You felt frustration well up inside you, “Not good”. Furrowing your eyebrows a little you moved your own hands to grasp his forearms. “Not enough.”

“No? Then how about here?” As he spoke, he moved his hands even further away from where you wanted him most to, instead, grip your thighs. His action made you huff out in protest.

“You say you’re a doctor, but you make your patients suffer. How does that work,” you told him.

“A good doctor must throughly know his patient’s body. Only then could he fully understand,” he countered.

You let your head fall back against his chest, tightening your grip on his arms slightly in signal for him to get serious. He didn’t take it. Instead he chose to move to the fullest part of your hips so that his hands could hold onto them lightly. This far, you couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or not; With his quest for understanding having been obvious since the first few seconds of your encounter, you also noted that the more reactions he pulled from you the more he diverted from that path. Sure you could always take initiative and use your own hands to please yourself, but something about his cool, sharp, and large-in-comparison hands just seemed like you would get off more with them guiding you. Just the thought alone had you press wing your legs together.

The ends would justify the means, so you endured his explorations. Even if it meant becoming pent up.

“Speak up, I’d like to know the results of my efforts,” he told you.

“Results? Your efforts are not paying off. Perhaps you should try harder.”

He chuckled with a raspy tone and pressed his hands into your hips tightly. “I am not shy to failure. But I won’t accept it.”

To show the truth of his words he moved his hands back down to your heat, pausing for a second to say, “Silence will not benefit you. Tell me how it feels”, before he suddenly pinched the skin of your most sensitive area. You cried out at the feeling, caught off guard by the unexpected pleasure; Your hands gripped tightly on his forearms as you steadied yourself. When he didn’t let go, you remembered his words and quickly spoke through heavy breaths, “it hurts…in…a good way…”

“Good.” And then he released you. He gave you a moment to breathe before he began to suckle on that sweet spot on your neck in tandem to his hands beginning to rub your leakage up and down your slit. You gasped out in pleasure, moaning out softly to finally have some relief; Not forgetting the rules, you tried your best to speak through the stimulation. “It feels good….”

“Hm, that much I could tell. Be a little more descriptive with your words,” he told you.

If you could, you would have given him a threatening look that—hopefully—would have told him to let you revel in your satisfaction, but you couldn’t. You could only do as he said lest you find out what he meant when he said being silent wouldn’t help you. Closing your eyes, you said, “Pleasurable…hot…satisfying.”

No one had told you before how hard it would be to try to summon a dictionary in your head during these moments. There was only so many ways you could describe “good” without needing to stop and think about it. You’d prayed it was enough for the man because you didn’t want him to stop.

“Yes, that’s good. It matches to the behavior of your soul. Still, you are a stubborn one. Why won’t you let go?”

You arched your back against his front, your hips bucking against his hands as you chased the warm feeling. His words didn’t register with you and you didn’t offer a response to him. Luckily for you, he’s question was rhetorical, and instead of punishing you for your lack of words, he moved to that one of his hands continued its assault on your nerves while the other began to prod a finger into your hole. A louder moan fell from your lips when you felt the intrusion. You could help it. Your body was being worked on from three different spots, all of them as pleasurable as the next which made the tension in your core coil tighter.

“What do you hide inside that makes you clench so tightly around my finger? Could it be the sweetest spot of them all? Is it the button to your undoing?” His words were murmured against your skin, making his voice sounds so much closer to your ear which only made you shiver. With your eyes closed, your hearing had become sharper and your perception to his touch was intensified. It only served to push you further to the edge as you squirmed to try to get his fingers inside you. You were sure you looked wrecked; Panting and moaning like you had been born for it, your lips swollen and red from your teeth biting down onto them, even sweat had begun to form on your forehead. It was a reflection of how you felt.

Searing pleasure was coursing through your veins and you all but rode his fingertip as your hips humped against his hands. “Find out,” you breathed, “aren’t you the doctor?”

“A path to answers wouldn’t be so obvious. Perhaps I was mistaken.” He said, behaving as if he had been dissuaded by your eagerness and beginning to pull his hands away.

“No!” You interjected, clutching his arms even tighter as you worked to keep him in place. “Don’t. Please.”

If you could see him behind you then you would see the way his eyes glowed a brilliant green, his grin downright sinful as he peered down your neck to the bottom of your front where his hands hid beneath your clothes. He could hear his scythe thrumming with energy as you squirmed in his grasp—your soul glowing more intensely in his vision. Never one to admit it to any other but his own mind, the man had reveled in your reactions. Making a noise of consideration, he trailed his sharp nails against the skin of your sensitive area half in part to continue his “research” and half in part to make you beg. He was sure it would be the cherry on-top. Not only had he found a soul like none other, it turns out the human attached to it was quite not bad…it wasn’t often a well-rounded existence fell into his grasp. The man wondered about all the possibilities on which this would end, how he would end it. If he wanted to at all that is. After all, time was nothing he was short of; It was almost disappointing the same couldn’t be applied to you.

“Shall we see?” He finally responded, his voice almost gruff in mixture of his gravely tone and low volume. Finally settling his mind, the man bent to your pleading and immediately knew it was the right decision.

You had sucked in a breath, one arm reaching up to throw itself around his shoulder and clutching onto one of the spikes on his shoulder armor. Unaccounted for, the length of his fingers alone was enough to fill you up, the inconspicuous danger of his nails against your walls only fueling the fire that raged inside you. Not even seconds passed before the doctor was moving inside, unabashedly searching for the most sensitive bundle of nerves for whatever reason only he knew. Whimpered fell from your lips, and when he reattached his lips to your neck, they transformed into heavy moans. After all his assaults on your sweet spots before, you were already on edge. You didn’t know how much time had passed but it had felt like hours. Conflicted between not wanting this feeling to end and wanting that delicious release, you shifted your weight to start lifting and dropping yourself in rhythm to his fingers.

The man had spoken to you, saying something about the taste of your soul, but you couldn’t focus on his words. Instead, you could only focus on the way his long hair tickled your face as it had fell over your shoulder all the way to the peak of your chest. You wanted to hold it, to pull on it, but worried that it would make the man stop. Fighting the urge, you bit your lip and instead dug your nails into his skin.

“How lovely, look at it. What a simple press of my fingers does to you. A fascinating design indeed. I almost want to keep you.”

Sobs of pleasure prevented you from replying to his nonsensical words but neither of you could have cared less in the moment. You were too busy feeling the knot in your core tighten to impossible tension and the doctor was otherwise preoccupied by his interest in your body.

“‘M close,” you had whispered.

“Release it. Show me what you are.”

To punctuate his words, the man pressed harshly against the spot inside you that had your toes curling and back arching. Moaning loudly enough for nearby cities to hear, you felt yourself crash over the edge. Tears brimmed your lashes as pleasure disrupted all other function of your body making you go stiff against the ghostly man, already too overwhelmed to try to ride out your high. Your juices soaked your pants that you had forgotten you still wore despite knowing they were never off to begin with.

“Yes,” The doctor hissed with satisfaction, pulling his hands out of you and your bottoms you examine them in the night light. Glistening with his essence, his fingers rubbed together to feel the slick. “This will do.”

Before releasing you, the man had helped lower you to the ground as exhaustion overtook you. Laying on the ground situated in your back, you hazily gazed up at the tall individual noticing that he held his scythe in one hand already.

“You’ve persuaded me. It’s not your time yet, your soul is still unripe. I will come back for you later so remember my name, Niru. Remember it—your mine to take.”

You didn’t realize that the world around you was slowly getting dark as he spoke, and you only just barley caught his name.

Niru…

Blackness surrounded you for what felt like eternity but milliseconds at the same time. When you regained consciousness, you were still laying on the ground. All the pains of your body before losing consciousness hit you like a meteor and you hissed. On instinct you cupped the wound on your shoulder which had finally stopped bleeding but still thrummed with a stinging pain. Faintly, you could still feel the fingers in your wounded arm move and you sighed in relief.

After the passing inspection of your arm, you swiveled your head around the surrounding area. Not even the ground you sat on showed signs of another presence. There were no footprints, not glowing light, not even the cool atmosphere. In fact, after looking back at your body, you noticed that not even your clothes were different than how they were from before.

A dream, you slowly realized and you couldn’t tell why so much disappointment filled your heart. For someone who was at death’s door some time ago, you didn’t seem to appreciate your miraculous survival. A dream…how foolish.

Berating yourself you struggled to stand, putting as little stress on your shoulder as possible when you bent down to pick up your forgotten sword and broken bow. It took your shifting to make you realize that your pants were soaked.

#afk journey #afk journey x reader #niru afk journey #niru x reader #afk journey niru x reader

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☆*: A Rabbit’s Mind

[Tags]: smut | lorsan x reader | GN reader

Minors Do Not Interact

[Author’s Note]: I’ve added a 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 audio to enhance the experience and stimulate your imagination. You can ignore it or play it, it’s up to you, it won’t affect anything. The scenario is him trying to stay quiet as he straight up jorks it...and by "it", haha, well. lets justr say. His peanits.

Lorsan missed you. No, it was beyond that, he missed you every hour that you weren’t by his side—tonight, right now, he yearned for you. He craved your presence like it was water and he was a dying man stranded in the blazing desert.

Normally Lorsan could hold himself together, the company of his traveling partners an ever-present reminder that he could only indulge himself so much. But lately the situation felt different, almost uncomfortably tense. Maybe it was because it had been a couple of weeks since Lorsan had last seen you; Or maybe it was because the weight of his previous mission had finally subsided and his stress levels were no longer near stroke inducing. Whatever the reason, Lorsan had found himself these past couple of days with a near constant stiffness in his pants and escalating thoughts. It was so disruptive to his newfound goal of traveling all of Esperia that even the great magister, Merlin, had grown concerned that the bunny had come down with some kind of illness.

"Lorsan, are you sure you're alright?" The magister had asked, gathering the attention of the loyal hamster subjects.

"Yeah, you don't look so good!" Chippy added, clambering around the magister's legs with his bulky backpack noisily rattling as he did so. He peered up at the slightly flushed windwhisperer with a confused expression on his face to which Hammie had pushed away with her hand.

"It's not that you look bad, you just seem a little out of it. But now that I think about it, you're symptoms have consistently increasing in degree since last week," said Hammie.

"So you've noticed as well?" The magister asked the familiars with a hand to the chin in thought.

"Of course! We would not be fit to serve you if we couldn't notice at least this much," Hammie exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm for her master.

"I'm fine," Lorsan finally interjected with a wave of his hand and a smirking grin as he tilted his head to the side, "What, trying to get rid of me already? It's only been a couple of weeks since the Dark Forest was saved—you can't possible be tired of me so soon?!"

"It's not that. We're just worried for you," The magister calmly reasoned, not phased by Lorsan's teasing and even less inclined to point out how forced it was.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm fine. Really! Just running a little hot is all but it's nothing to worry about. My ears help me cool off."

For a few seconds no one said anything, not even the magister's chatterbox companions. Lorsan grew slightly worried, had he really behaved so instinctually that he had given himself away?! He was so sure the looseness of his pants had hidden anything that could incriminate him. Sure he'd been sporting a constant light flush on his face and had been increasingly more fidgety when sitting and sleeping lately, but he could easily attribute that to seasonal allergies or something! He doubted they knew much about his rabbit-person biology anyway so pulling one over their head might prove to be easy. However, Lorsan didn't need to defend himself before the magister finally nodded and concluded, "If you say so. In any case, we should set up camp and rest for now."

"Already? But the sun won't set for another few hou—" Chippy was cut off by the magister.

"I'm tired. We've been wandering for weeks now without stopping. Calling it a day a little early won't hinder our progress. It's not like we have a destination anyways."

And so, after distribution of chores, Lorsan found himself alone gathering edible vegetation while Chippy searched for firewood and the magister—partnered with Hammie—set up the tents. The more distance the wilder put between himself and his travel group, the more he began to pant. He had been holding himself in restraint for so long, having to endure the images of you flashing in his mind in all kinds of situations with complete control. Your smile, your laugh, the scent of your hair, the sound of his name from your lips, the arch of your back, the feeling of your hands around his throbbing—....

He was doing it again. Lorsan let out a frustrated noise, his hands tangling into his hair as he shook his head to clear it. It'd already been almost 10 minutes since he separated from the group and he hadn't found a single plant to eat. He just couldn't focus, and it was all your fault! The way you cried out as he ravaged you in a mating press, how good you felt clenching around his weeping member as if refusing to let him pull out. He could almost swear you were right in-front of him on your knees looking up at him with teary eyes as you tried your best to please him with your mouth, one hand massaging his balls and the other wandering up his stomach, nails lightly scrapping against his skin. Dura above...he might actually go insane.

"Get yourself together, Lorsan," the rabbit told himself, "you're acting like, well, a bunny in heat—…”

Oh. Oh. The realization crashed over Lorsan causing him to stumble a step back. Completely forgetting what he was meant to be doing, he dashed back to the campsite, almost tumbling into Chippy on the way. The surprised hamster called out for him but Lorsan paid him no mind. When he reached the camp, he was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and he looked like he had been chased by a golem all the way from Holistone. Merlin, who had been setting up the last leg of the tent, looked at the wilder with startled eyes.

"Lorsan? What ha—"

"How long ago was the start of spring?" He interrupted.

"...?" The magister raised an eyebrow, "About 2 and a half moon cycles ago."

"Oh no..."

"Lorsan, what's wron—Lorsan?!"

It made sense, it finally all made sense. As Lorsan bound back the way he came, he left the others calling behind him, only faintly hearing their footsteps following after him. He should have known that when he started thinking of you, sweaty and panting on the bed with his cum leaking out of you after filling you so full in delusion that you'd have his kits, that his rut was near. It was so obvious and he was frustrated with himself, so ashamed to be (and have been) thinking if you that way—after all, the two of you were just friends. If only you knew of his desires, if only you wanted the too; To be pressed against the wall with your arms over his shoulders and one of your legs hitched up to his waist, exposing all yourself to him as he thrust into you.

Lorsan felt himself twitch in his pants and he almost collapsed on the spot. He'd almost forgotten how hard he was already and his running didn't help—in fact, the rubbing of the fabric of his clothes against him felt so good.

Misarte, please forgive me.

He dashed to the left of the path, behind the wall of trees and shrubbery in hopes that the others would not find him. Allowing himself to slow down before he came in his pants, Lorsan floundered about in search of a hidden spot behind some boulder or in some small cave. But there was none. All around him there was only trees and bushes that permitted a small degree of obscurity. It would have to do lest the others discover him out in the open field. With a hazy alertness, Lorsan shrugged against a particularly big tree, his chest partially pressed against it, swiveling his ears around on his head to listen for any approaching footsteps. Hearing nothing, he allowed himself to free his aching member from his pants.

Almost immediately, he began to whimper. He was already so sensitive after denying himself for so many days, and the feeling of his own hand was already a celestial sent blessing. With a gasping breath, he began to stroke himself slowly and without-hesitation recalled all the scenarios he had been fantasizing about this past week. He imagined himself blindfolded, his wrists tied behind him, as he sat in a chair with you draped over his lap. He imagined you teasing him by hovering your opening over his leaking cock, wiggling your hips so that he would brush against you but never penetrate. He would be so desperate for you, begging you to please sit down, to please take him, to please let him move. You would only innocently smile, taking immense pleasure in his lust filled state, not satisfying him until you yourself could no longer hold back--and once you finally let him fill you he would be so eager, moving his hips quickly but clumsily as his desire reached its peak. It would be the end of him if you grabbed the base of his ears, or worse, his tail.

Lorsan lifted his head from his arm that braced his weight against the tree, not even realizing he had covered his eyes. His hand had increased in its pace and moans had begun to slip from him. To which, he remembered that he had to regulate his noise level to not be found out by the others whom he heard in the distance.

Surprisingly, this was not enough for the wilder. His rabbit instincts were driving him to breed so moving his hand would not cut it. The hardest thing he'd ever done in his life was pulling his hand away, immediately blocking the flow of pleasure that was coursing through his veins which caused him to cry out in protest at himself. Only a momentary displeasure however, because Lorsan had vaguely remembered passing a bushel of bright colored, astonishingly large berries. If you could even call them berries. They rivaled the size of small melons, and if his [foggy] memory was correct, they were filled with a gelatinous water. Tucking himself back into his pants, Lorsan moved on shaky legs towards the direction he saw the berries.

It didn't take long to find them, and only after a couple of minutes, Lorsan was back to his tree with a large berry held in both hands. The texture of the berry's exterior felt fuzzy but the shell was solid, making it an adequate resource for the bunny. With his two thumbs, he pressed against the weak point of the shell which broke a hole into it causing the juices to splatter his hands. Sticking two fingers into it, he felt around to confirm it was indeed a Water Berry and his heart raced. He never thought he'd behave so ferally, but the heat in his core drove him to act rashly. Oh well, that would be something for him to reflect on after he calmed down. Right now, he focused on taking his shaft out—once again—and dropping to his knees.

In his mind, he had you on all fours, your legs spread wide enough that your own juices dripped onto the floor. Your back was arched as you pressed your face into the pillow, your fingers clutching onto the sheets for dear life. His hands are on the bend of your hips to hold you against him as he gyrated his own hips against you, the tip of his dick buried so deep inside you that you could almost feel it against your stomach. In reality, Lorsan was hunched over on his knees, holding the berry with both hands as he brought it close to his hips for him to penetrate. The water of the berry seemed to closely resemble your fluids, and the squelching that sounded when he fully sheathed himself inside it made Lorsan moan out loudly.

He quickly hushed himself, once again twitching his ears to listen for any incoming intrusion, and only beginning to move against the berry when he found none. He held the berry still, letting his hips thrust against it as he imagined it was you and oh did it feel so good. His actions not only satisfied his drive to mate, but it allowed him to fall deeper into his fantasies of you. The rabbit moaned and whined in pleasure, his tail waggling at the sensation of it all, and his ears swiveling on overdrive. He pushed deeply into the Water Berry and shivered when the fluid squirt against his abdomen.

His peak was close and he felt his thrusts speeding up, his balls beginning to slap against the exterior of the berry causing an extra stimulus to the wilder. Lorsan imagined you on your back, your entire front side within his view. Your face was contorted in pleasure and your legs shook by his side. You would have cum multiple times by this point so you would be absolutely wracked with hypersensitivity, tearing falling from your eyes as you begged Lorsan, 'please'. Your hands grip his arms for stability, your toes curling, and still he would not stop. Not until you were dripping with his cum. It would take you praising him for his release to hit, and when it did, it would be full force.

Lorsan cried out, forgetting the requirement to be quite, as his orgasm suddenly hit him. He was so caught up in his mind, he hadn't realized he was sinfully abusing the berry. His hips stuttered intensely, his ears going rigid atop his head, as his filled his makeshift toy with his sticky mess. Perhaps it was because he had been so pent up, but the rabbit seemed to spurt out white ropes of cum for an incredible amount of time—it even began to leak out of the berry despite him still sheathed deeply inside. The rabbit moaned loudly, only finally slowing his movements when his high passed.

It wasn't you, but Lorsan's need to breed had [somewhat] been satiated and that was good enough for now. He hoped he wouldn't have to do this again any time soon, but with how strongly his rut had hit him this time, he wasn't confident. Breathing heavily, he pulled out of the berry, the movement causing his cock to twitch in sensitivity. From the sloppy hole flowed the mixture of watery fluids and cum, a combination that surprisingly was not as gross as he'd think. Weakly, Lorsan buried the used berry in the dirt using dead leaves to cover the evidence of his presence before cleaning himself up [he really needs to wash his clothes not] and fixing his clothes.

With a newfound tiredness, the wilder made his way out from the canopy of trees back to his concerned friends that were still looking for him. He definitely owed them an apology, and an explanation which he would lie about...obviously.

#afk journey #afk journey x reader #afk journey lorsan #lorsan x reader #afk journey lorsan x reader

[httpsbearily]

☆*: Mischievous Tendancies

You wandered off just a little too far into the forest and played just a little too much; Bryon is a man of only so much patience.

[Tags]: Smut | bryon x reader | GN reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

[Author's note]: mmmm bryon content yippie

“Aw, come on, won’t you humor me for just a bit?”

“I’m afraid not, darling. Justifiably, your mischievous tendencies have proven to get us both into situations that are not ideal. I would prefer if you could behave yourself just this once."

"Uhm, rude. I don't seem to recall you complaining during one of my "mischievous tendencies" escapades. In fact, I clearly remember you enjoying yourself."

Bryon gave a disapproving hum but offered no rebuttal to your words, a sign that he truly was no longer indulging you. You pouted in dismay, letting yourself fall back against the tree you were currently sat under. It was the middle of spring and all the world around seemed to be in bloom, even the people behaved more cheerfully. With such sights, you had naturally yearned to travel about the forest to soak in the beauty of the flowered bushes and fruitful trees that littered the land. Although you were no experienced traveler, having resided in the comforts of Lunadorf all your life, you fully believed that you could take care of yourself should you ever need to--a thought process that had led you away from the town and into the winding paths of the forest.

Unexpectedly (read as: completely expected), you had gotten lost...But you hadn't feared for the worst because you found a stream of water! Even the most rookie of adventurers knew that where there was water, there was civilization--there wasn't. You ended up wandering deeper into the forest for over an hour before Bryon found you. Still, you were not downcast about your exploration failure because you had found a swimming hole secluded behind a walls of trees and shrubbery. It was no surprise that you had gotten the idea to swim in it, more so when the tall figure of your romantic partner appeared from the shadows like a sign from Misarte herself.

So, instead of explaining yourself to Bryon, you had went to work on convincing him to join you for a swim. He declined, and in addition, he didn't allow you to go in either ("We don't know what lies beneath the surface" he reasoned blah blah blah). A truly heartbreaking turn of events, he would've looked stunning in the luminescent waters; But you didn't give up! While he may have shot down your attempts at swimming[hole sex], you still had him completely alone in the middle of the forest. There were too many possibilities, you simply needed to find the best plan of action!

"Bryon," you called out innocently, "I'm tired. Could we stay here for the night?"

Bryon, who had been waiting for you patiently a few feet away ready to make the trek back to Lunadorf, shook his head. "I don't believe it may be safe for us to do so. Not with so many hypofiends wandering around. Why don't I carry you on my back instead?"

"On your back?! Won't you get tired?!" You asked incredulously, sitting back up.

"I won't. Come on."

With that, he helped you climb onto his back and began the walk home. You smiled devilishly behind his fluffy hair, all was going according to plan. Now, with him focusing on holding you up and staying on path, you had unlimited power to do as you pleased...including touching his very soft, very sensitive ears. You waited a couple minutes to get him to lower his guard before you moved one arm from around his neck and pretended to sneeze into the inside of your shirt. If he had any suspicions of your sudden movement, he made no comment.

With one arm free, you quickly raised it up to his ear and lightly pinched the pointed tip of it between your fingers. Bryon tensed beneath you, saying: "My dear, behave yourself for me."

"I am behaving! I'm only keeping myself from boredom, is that so wrong?” You harrumphed in act, hiding your coy smile as you continued to slowly twirl his ear top in your fingers. Your other arm, that had so far been wrapped around his neck to hold you steady against his back, had slid down over his chest where your fingers began to trace random shapes into the fabric with enough pressure for him to feel it. “You’re ears are so soft.”

Bryon tightened his grip on you, his fingers digging into the skin of the underside of your thigh and you could feel his ear flicking in your hand. No response escaped him though and it spurred you on—what would it take for him to break, you wondered. Growing bolder, you took ahold of his ear, your hand fully wrapping around it and letting out a breathy laugh when Bryon hummed in agitation. You could feel the vibration of his chest with your hand that rested against it and squirmed in his hold.

It took you pressing your body further into his back and the press of fluttering kisses to the back of his neck that had Bryon abruptly stopping and letting go of your thighs. With a yelp, you began to drop to the ground, completely taken off guard by his actions--but Bryon didn't let you fall. Instead, with incredible speed, had somehow managed to turn himself to face you in the split second that you were [quite literally] hanging from his shoulders. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his front and with low voice, he said, "Perhaps I've been too lenient with you, dearest. I had thought letting you believe yourself to be coy would help relive you of your impish desires, but it appears I was mistaken. Shall I show you what it means to behave?"

You looked up at him in surprise. Dominant Bryon?! Holy shit that's new...

Without letting you gather your thoughts, Bryon lifted your chin up towards himself to press a deep and steady kiss to your lips. He walked you backwards, not once faltering, until you had bumped into a rough surface. Your heart began to race, the lack of air making you feel lightheaded which intensified all your sensations. You didn't know how much time had passed when Bryon finally released your lips, letting you catch your breath while he opted to trail his kisses further down the expanse of your neck. To keep you steady, he pressed one hand into your waist--pushing you against what you realized to be a boulder--and slotted his leg in between yours.

"Oh," you gasped when his thumb began to run circles into your hip and his mouth latching onto the spot at the base of your neck that made you particularly weak. It took the feeling of his teeth grazing the spot to bring back some awareness to your mind; You realized you had gone limp between his body and the boulder behind you. Unwilling to be put in place too easily, you moved to reposition back up around his neck--this time reaching up to toy with the edges of his blindfold.

"Don't," He suddenly said without even lifting his head, "I prefer listening to you."

You understood immediately. With his eyesight blocked out, his hearing ability only increased...an idea popped into your head; You went to work on silencing yourself, trying to dampen even the sounds of your pleased sighs. Bryon caught on immediately.

"You only dig yourself into a deeper hole, dearest. But if that's how you wish it to be, then so be it," he said before finally lifting his head to give you another deep kiss that was short-lived. When he pulled away, it was only so that he could lower himself down on his knees. You bit your lip at the sight of him before you, looking up at you still blindfolded, his strong hands trailing down the sides of your waist to hold your hips.

However, your admiring of him was interrupted when he pulled at the hem of your pants and letting them fall to your ankles, along with your undergarments. With ease he moved his hand under your right knee to move it over his shoulder, effectively pushing himself closer to your heat--so close that you could feel his speak against you.

"Is there anything you'd like to say before we begin?" He asked you.

"Bryon," you sighed, "you're making this sound like a homework assignment."

"Hm." Was all he said before flattening his tongue against you with pressure. Instinctively you raised a hand to cover you mouth in attempt to muffle yourself--you wouldn't give up on your silent game so easily! But, Dura above, did he make it so hard.

Just like with his words, his tongue was skilled and sharp in its movements. It lapped at your dripping hole as if in attempt to not spill a drop of your juices, and prodded at the most sensitive spot. The wet heat of it made you shiver, your free hand reaching to his hair to tangle your fingers into it. At some point he closed his lips around you to suck lightly which caused your hips to stutter against his hold.

Holding back your moans proved to be harder than you realized--in fact, it was near impossible to do especially when he removed one hand from your hip to gently rub against your opening. It was a stark contrast, his mouth sucking firmly but his fingers prodding you open gently. It almost made your knee buckle when he swiped his fingers to collect your juices, using it as a lubricant for his fingers so that he could thrust them into you.

At a particularly harsh suck, you pulled on his hair a little harder than you'd intended and, causing his ears to twitch and he detached his mouth from you to say, "Behave."

You whined at the loss of contact, your hips moving forward to chase the warmth of his mouth. "Okay," You told him breathlessly, "I'll behave. Please keep going."

And he did. He moved his mouth back to your heat with renewed interest, moving his fingers against the inside of your walls skillfully. Silent game forgotten, breathless moans fell from your lips in the form of his name. You felt the way his fingers curled inside you, overwhelmed by his tongue lapping against you and frustrated by the grip of his hand on your hip that prevented you from full on riding his face. The heat in your core began to grow and you tried to vocalize the occurrence but when he found the sweet spot inside you he rubbed against it full force. You let out a squeal at his ministrations, pulling at his hair to get him closer to which he emitted a groan and--oh Dura above, the vibration of it felt divine.

"Bryon--" You whimpered, feeling the peak of your pleasure near. He hummed, once again detaching his lips from your heat to look up at you with a satisfied smile.

"That's it, you're doing so well for me. Keep going," He said to you, his voice gravely and deeper than usual. His praise shot right through you, and mixed together with the sound of his voice [perhaps he was onto something when he said hearing was better?!], you felt the knot in your core tighten. You hazily opened your eyes, not having realized you closed them in the first place, and were met with the mesmerizing sight of Bryon's lightly flushed face underneath his blindfold, his lips glistening with your essence, and his hand moving between your legs as his fingers thrust inside you. It was all too much.

Bryon seemed to sense your impeding release and immediately went back to kissing your overly-sensitive heat. At that, you felt your orgasm wash over you strongly enough that you struggled to hold yourself up. You cried out Bryon's name, your hand in his hair pulling on it harshly while the other held onto his free shoulder for dear life. Bryon continued his ministrations even as you came all over his face, only slowly stopping after you had ridden out your high. By the time you were left panting in recovery, Bryon pulled his fingers back and gently moved your leg from his shoulder back down to the ground. When he stood up he had lifted his clean hand to caress your cheek, checking on you in your daze.

"Well done, my dear. It seems the vixen inside you has finally been satiated." He said to you gently, kissing your forehead before letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

"Shut up..." You mumbled against his shirt, genuine tiredness creeping up on you.

The two of you stayed like this for a few moments, Bryon thumbing the back or your neck comfortably whilst you simply soaked in his presence, until you realized a pressing matter--literally pressing. You pulled back slightly and looked down to confirm that there was indeed a bulge confined by the fabric of his clothes.

You looked up to find him already gazing at you and you smiled lazily. Without hesitation, you moved a hand down to grasp the length. "It turns out I may not be as satiated as I thought," you said lowly to him. You wasted no time in moving your hand slowly, squeezing occasionally to rile him up as much as possible.

"Why don't--" The sound of a birds call interrupted you, starling you. You paused your actions when Bryon sighed almost regretfully, pulling away entirely when a familiar blueish bird appeared overhead. Bryon lifted his arm for the bird to perch on and together the two of them seemed to converse with each other. You stood there, a little dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events and a little disappointed you were interrupted right at the good part.

"Mh, I see. Thank you," Bryon told the bird, letting her fly off back into the sky before facing you. "It seems Granny Dhanie is quite concerned over your absence. We should make our way back before she send all of Lunadorf after you."

"What?! Doesn't she know you're here with me?" You asked.

"It seems half a day was simply too long for her. Come on, darling, lets get you back to safety.

And with that, the two of you set off back on the path to the town. You pouted in discontent, but thought that it couldn't be as bad as he had it. Walking all the way back with a stiff member couldn't be comfortable...You supposed you would just have it make it up to him later at home then.

#bryon #bryon afk journey #bryon x reader #afk journey #afk journey x reader

[httpsbearily]

☆*: Sweeter Than Pie

Valen being a professional smooth talker but still being bitchless is so funny to me so here is him trying his hardest to court you but lwk being bad at it someone help him Please. It’s kinda slow burn cause that’s my favorite trope, and it’s super rushed, but I hope it’s still enjoyable :)

[Tags]: fluff | valen x reader | GN Reader

[Authors’ note]: ofc my first post had to be with my bbg— valen if you’re reading this ily ♡

The cool morning breeze carried the chatters of the townsfolk all across Holistone. Although the sun had only just risen, there was already a bustling level of activity within the town as its residents prepared for a full days worth of business and chores. Amongst the early morning birds was you, a baker employed by a renowned bakery in Holistone. The owner— your childhood friend—had offered you the job during its rise in popularity when customer demand had surpassed shop output drastically and simply could not keep up. At the time, you hadn’t had much baking experience, but your friend had been desperate for any help they could get and immediately started teaching you the ropes before you could even understand what each ingredient was.

Obviously in your amateur days, your baked goods had not been quite the best—A feat that had your friend apologetically switching responsibilities with you, exchanging their server/cashier duties for your baker ones after you presented a cinnamon roll glaze accidentally made with sour cream instead of cream cheese. However, despite your learning blunders, the knight you met soon after beginning your job had taken (and eaten?!) everything you had practiced on with a charming smile and compliments of all the things you had done well that time.

How the two of you met was quite the story as well; You had only been working at the bakery for a few weeks and had only just gotten a grasp of optimal mixing texture for muffins when the small door bell had chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer. You were a bit surprised because of the late hour but got over it quickly when you set your mixing bowl down and wiped your hands on your apron before making your way to the front station.

“Hello, welcome! Could I help you with anything?” You greeted with a smile, looking at the figure that was bent over looking into the glass display of foods. The sound of your voice seemed to catch the figure by surprise and they straightened up, a curious expression on their face.

“Good evening! I was just stopping by to pick up some desert for my boss since it’s his birthday today, but it seems you’re all out of cupcakes?” The stranger said to you with a casted glance back over to the empty section on the display. He ran a hand through his chestnut hair with a sigh, “I know it’s a little late to be celebrating a birthday, but you wouldn’t possibly have any extras in the back would you?”

“Ah…we do but,” You shook your head slightly, your smile becoming sheepish, “I’m not confident that they’re well enough to be sold…at least, I couldn’t do so without feeling concerned for your health.”

The man only laughed, putting a hand on his hip as he tilted his head. “Oh? Why’s that? As a knight of the Heroic Order, I feel I should ask in duty if they’ve been poisoned or something.”

You shook your head frantically; A knight of the heroic order?! Now you were sure you couldn’t, in good heart, sell your practice cupcakes to him much less his boss! But…on the other hand…if word got out that your friend’s bakery served even the Heroic Order, business would boom more intensely. Of course you wanted nothing but the best for your friend and it certainly was not complain-worthy that your paycheck would increase as well. Still, with your skill level you might end up giving the poor knight and his boss food poisoning, or worse, and that might backfire on the bakery. Conflicted, you decided to explain the situation to the knight and let him decide what chances he’d rather take.

“No, no! They’re not poisoned I swear! They were made by me, though, and I’m still learning my way around the kitchen. By that I mean they’re most likely subpar in flavor…I would not recommend giving them to your boss at least.”

“Really? Is that what’s happened?” The knight, as handsome as he was, made you a little nervous with his full-attention look as he seemed to consider the situation with a smile that never fell. “I see. Well, I’m already here so it’d be more in my favor if I at least try one of your creations. I’ve gotta admit I’m a little curious to see the result. After all, if Alex hired you, then you certainly have potential. We’ve known each other for a while so I feel I could say I understand his character; I don’t think he’d allow just anyone into his bakery.”

“Ah, Alex and I are childhood friends actually. I really didn’t have any baker experience before working here but my working here was convinent for the both of us so it ended up like this,” You responded, rubbing your neck awkwardly at the mention of your boss, “But if you’re really up for it then I’ll fetch those cupcakes for you. As a knight, you must not be much afraid of death after all”. You gave him a look before adding, “They might actually stop your heart. I miscalculated the sugar ratio…”

The knight, whose name you still hadn’t caught, only shrugged like it was nothing. Shaking your head again, you excused yourself to the kitchen where you picked up the messy tray that you had haphazardly covered with frosting in your attempts to add it to the cupcake tops. Dura above, you thought as you made your way back to the knight. You immediately looked to his face in anticipation of his reaction; Some part of you wanted to laugh because this was pretty ridiculous, but the other part of you felt a little embarrassed. “Here you are,” you set the tray down on the front desk, “half a dozen cupcakes made by yours truly.”

The knight hummed only and you really couldn’t tell his expression—was he purposefully keeping a straight face…—but he reached for one of the cupcakes without hesitation and took a big bite. You immediately lifted your hand to your mouth to cover your shock, a laugh threatening to spill from your lips because you knew he was actively schooling his expression. There was no way no one would be able to not flinch at the overly sweet flavor (you knew, you tried one yourself earlier). Nothing was said between the two of you as he stood there chewing the desert for a few seconds before swallowing.

“They’re perfect,” he said nonchalantly, “I’ll take them all.”

Startled, you gaped at him, “..Sir…you can’t be serious. Let me get you some water, I fear you’ve given yourself a sugar induced stroke!”

He waved his hand in dismissal, “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. The sunset color of them is just right. Good job!”

“The color?!” Disbelief replaced your shock and you sighed. This man really just pulled a compliment out of his ear to save you some face—the cupcakes weren’t even supposed to be sunset colored, but white instead! You didn’t have the heart to correct him so you smiled solemnly instead. “A knight, huh? You truly live up the the reputation. How about I give you a small cake instead, baked by Alex himself. And that cup of water.”

“I’ll take that cup of water, thank you. But I’m fine with these, really. How many people can say they’ve had life changing cupcakes, literally? Besides, if any complaints arise from my boss I’ll just have to come back to you to return them.” That charming smile of his returned and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the display.

“Oh, we don’t accept returns I’m afraid,” you responded, “but I would be more than willing to work something out, and I’m sure my boss would understand once I explain it to him”

“That’s good enough for me.” Was all he said as you went to work packing the cupcakes in a box. When it was time for him to leave, he simply took the box—and a small paper cup of water—with a ‘thank you’ and turned to leave.

“By the way, my names Valen. You should stop by the Heroic Orders headquarters sometime. If you ever need any help.” And with a two finger salute, and a wink, he was out the door.

Since then, months have passed and regrettably you had never found a good enough excuse to take Valen up on his offer to stop by the knights’ office, but things hadn’t turned out for the worst. In fact, Valen had taken it upon himself to visit you at the bakery quite frequently, and every single time he visited he left with one of your baked creations; And each time he returned, he waxed poetry about them. Over time, your baking skills did eventually improve so Valen had and increasing amount of opportunity to praise more than just the desert’s color, but no matter what he said he left you feeling giddy. At some point during your interactions, he had taken to complimenting you as well, calling you beautiful as casually as he said your name and looking you straight in the eyes as he did so. It didn’t help that, on the occasions in which he would be gone for days at a time on a mission, he would bring you back some kind of souvenir or tell you that he missed your smile.

“Wouldn’t you say it would bring me good luck to have your smile with me wherever I go? It would definitely help reenergize me after a battle,” he had told you one day during a conversation in which he tried to convince you that the two of you should have matching lockets with each others pictures in them.

“I think you would feel better if you took better care of yourself—Look, you’re literally bleeding! I don’t have anymore bandages either, we need to get you to a doctor!”

“Oh, this? I’m fine, it’s just a graze. I was on my way to the infirmary but figured that I’d say hi to you first. I bet you missed me after being gone for a week,” he said to you, running his hand through his hair (a signature move) and leaning close into you.

“You’re going to be gone for the rest of eternity if you don’t stop bleeding out in my bakery,” You crossed your arms over your chest with a small worried frown, “If you go get that wound checked out then we can go shopping for lockets later.”

Valen grinned toothily, straightening up as he pulled out two matching necklaces with lockets from one oh his pockets, “That reminds me, I brought you a souvenir. Look, one of them is even a heart.”

You gave him a deadpan look but couldn’t hold it for long before you couldn’t help but smile. You took one of the necklaces and opened the locket to see a picture of you and Valen together—the picture taken at his surprise birthday party, coincidentally your first official launch as a professional baker since you had personally made the birthday cake. You felt your heart flutter at the picture and all the memories that came with it before looking back up at him with a fond look. In the few seconds that you had looked away, Valen had already put his on and all you caught was a glimpse of him tucking it into his collar.

“I feel better already, what did I tell you.”

“You fool,” you said endearingly, “Go seek medical help before I tell on you to General Hogan.”

“Hey no need to go so far! Fine, fine, I hate to love you and leave you, but all this blood loss is making me dizzy—or, it might just be you taking my breath away—Okay I’m going!” He said as you chased him out with a light blush dusting your face.

#Valen #valen x reader #valen afk journey #valen afk #he’s so silly #afk journey #afk journey x reader

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About | Rules

Hello, everyone! Welcome to my humble blog where I write little scenarios for AFK Journey Characters. Please feel more than welcome to send any thoughts and/or requests you have!! I love indulging down bad activities. Teehee.

Requests:

I will write for all genres [fluff | smut | platonic | etc.] except angst.

I will write for all [AFK Journey] characters.

I will not write smut and/or suggestive content for underage characters.

I will write y/n to be gender neutral by default, but you can request a gendered reader.

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Please be respectful when making requests! Any and all hateful and/or harmful comments will be ignored and deleted.

Please be as specific as you want when making requests! The more details, the better I can write, so go crazy.

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Please note that I am a student in university, so my writing schedule will not always be regular!

I’m still becoming familiarized with some characters in game so I may struggle a little bit with OOC. I apologize in advance in any case that that happens!

— Bear ς(>‿<.)

#afk journey #afk journey x reader