#&. I FEEL THE SUN ON MY FACE. I SEE TREES ALL AROUND ME; THE SCENT OF WILDFLOWERS ON A BREEZE. IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL ( aesthetic. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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Blood-Stained Wool Spun At Midnight (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)

WORDCOUNT: 12.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, intense gore, body horror, horror, angst, mutilation, violence, wounds, blades, death, many religious imagery/references, nudity, protective!Simon, NSFW, soft/loving smut, fingering, mating press, implied virgin!reader due to time-period standards, pretty vanilla, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon’s skin is bare to the moon, and he can taste your blood on his tongue.

Eyes wide, the man’s lips are loose; jaw slackened at the horror that lays below him as crimson drips down the swell of his Adam’s apple and between the dip of his chest. He can’t move, even as the chill sets into his spine, the hair over his arms and on the back of his neck standing on end.

All he can see is your body.

You don’t move, you don’t smile or send him that stern look of stubbornness—the snow falls to your head, it collects on the side of your face and limp corpse. Your torn clothes show the weeping wounds and jagged remains of flesh.

But none more so than one on your neck. The gaping tear made from his fangs.

Not me, Simon’s fingers twitch at his sides, your body in a pool of red. Not me.

It was him, though, wasn’t it?

He doesn’t remember what happened, cannot recall the memories in his brain—a demon, the Lord of this forest, and a prisoner all in one. You hadn’t killed it, no, there was no way to do that. Silver could only do so much.

But it had done something to you, to make your scent twist and rot. Your soul didn’t smell right.

“I…” Simon’s voice fails him.

His body is broken and bent, his entire side burning with pain, but none of that matters. Brown eyes quiver, and the man goes to lick his lips only to gag at the taste of copper, snapping his eyes away to pant quick breaths into the tree line.

Simon’s hand raises to hover above his stomach, shaking.

“I didn’t bloody do that,” he mutters, the evidence on his chest and stuck in his pores. The forest is silent. “I didn’t do that.” The man says it louder.

You stare forward numbly with a broken neck and a torn-out throat.

Foot twisting him around, he levels his back to you, hands coming up to his head as his jaw clenched so tight his molars scream at him. What had happened? What had gone on? Simon closes his eyes and hunches his shoulders forward.

“No,” he growls. “No, I didn’t fucking do that to you.”

The night continues to keep him in its black hold, the snow absorbs the blood and black liquid. He can smell the rot—the infection under your skin as it brands your corpse.

This forest was like a beacon to every monster in its vicinity. It called them here and made them lose themselves. Under the light of the moon and sun, whenever its branches told him to run and hunt as a beast, Simon Riley had no option but to obey. He would come here on a moment's notice when he felt the change coming over him, to his hut and his glade.

There were few times he could predict it, and no matter how much he wanted to stay with you, that just wasn’t how it worked.

Every monster that was called here was bait for that demon, and no monster had the ability to wield anything that could kill it. No silver. No holy water.

But a mortal could.

Every hunter entering these dark bounds had been hunting the wrong colossus and never had the chance to know it.

Simon bends slightly forward to hold his head tighter, grunting out whimpers as if trying to keep his brain from falling out.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Then louder than a scream and longer than the first, “Fuck!” The trees shiver.

Simon harshly pulls at his hair, feeling the strands snap before he slides his hands up and down his face; trying to push off the crimson yet he only succeeds in spreading it. He can’t hear your heart beating anymore, can’t hear the swell of your lungs. Nothing.

Hand lashing out, his knuckles connect with the hard bark of one of the tree’s trunks and he sends it back and forward three more times until his fingers crack and bend. When he’s done, the man doesn’t even notice the tears freezing on his cheeks as his breath puffs out in clouds.

Simon silently stifles a ragged inhale and sags forward, unable to turn back and look at you—he can’t bear it after everything he’s been through. Forehead tapping the rough bark, his pain-filled body flaring, the blond clenches his fists like an angry child.

He should have told you in the glade—in the safety of consecrated ground where holy men and women had been buried for time immemorial. He should have explained why it was only you that made him whole.

But Simon was a silent creature; a creature of silent glances and hidden softness that borders on a fear of abandonment. He would never tell you until you happened to figure it out yourself or if it became undeniable.

Oh, you should have stayed away.

His knees threaten to give out, so he lets them go until he can move his body to the side and lean against his tree. Barely breathing, he cares not about the cold. As he did when he was a child, all those years ago yet still shrouded in pain and hate, he loses any and all expression from his face—brown eyes dark as they stare at nothing.

There had been a moment that he’d come back to himself as the Ghost. A brief moment.

Simon wants to hang for the memory he now holds.

Your eyes, blood-burst, looking into his own as his fangs rend your flesh in two. The feeling of your neck snapping under his jaws. Tongue lolling in blood and licking its muzzle; whiskers dripping.

This time Simon gags, but he also hurls up his guts, too.

Bending his aching spine, his forearm keeps him up, bare thighs tensing and nerves quivering as his abdomen bunches. Simon pants staring blankly at the bile in the snow, saliva pooling in his mouth. He still can’t look at you.

With little left for him, the man curls up in the snow and resigns himself to freezing to death, arms loose around his waist and injuries screaming at him.

He’d killed you—is death not the only option left for him as well?

Simon lays there until his eyelids grow heavy, only thinking of you and how you had been. Your kindness, your wit. He enjoyed your loudness, and there was no one to perfectly challenge him but you.

From the first time he’d seen your form, it had only ever been you. He was yours, utterly; wholly. He should have told you to stay away.

“M’sorry, Love” he whispers into the ground, shivering violently, lips blue. His head is turned away as the trees hold their breath. “All my bastard fault—should’ve been me. It…fuckin’ hell,” Simon breathes, clenching his jaw. “Should’ve been me.”

He mutters his self-hatred until he falls silent and his chest rattles. Until the forest listens.

Until it answers.

Simon’s eyes snap open to the sound of a world cracking in two and finds your body gone.

—

This place isn’t real.

You sit in a mirror vision of your shop, but nothing is correct. Looking into the corners, shadows slip away with quiet laughter, and the door rings but no one walks through. It’s…repetitive. It never stops, but you can’t seem to leave.

You think it’s been days, weeks, even. Always it feels like there’s something watching you, and the window of your shop shows nothing but black night outside and flickering lamps.

It doesn’t feel right to speak.

If you speak, whatever is standing out in the street will know you’re here.

You shake as you watch it now, silent and swallowing down saliva. Its eyes have been ripped out, and the chains along its wrists drag so loudly you can hear them even through stone and wood; they make you flinch and shiver. For whatever reason, the phantom of the man cannot find you, though he has been looking.

He even knocks on the door.

It was a clanging, dead, thing. With a slam of a gnarled wrist and a raspy cry of your name on his slit tongue. You don’t want to ask how it knows your title, so you only hold your hands to your mouth to stifle your sobs. But for all of this, you still contained self-awareness.

You’re in Hell, or some strange, twisted version of the middle point. Purgatory.

But why? Why here of all places—your soul had been branded, you heard that curse and felt the blackened nectar in your flesh. Had known what Simon had…

You blink quickly, looking away from the twisted man and taking down a shaky inhale.

Whatever this place was, you and this shade were the only ones here. The only once-human ones, anyways. You didn’t exactly want to go out and meet him.

“Please!” It bangs on the door again and your head snaps up in panic, hand whipping to your mouth to hide the sharp gasp. If you ever got out of here, you never wanted to see your home again. This version ruined it. “Please, let me in. I can’t see—it took out my eyes! Please, please I need my eyes.”

Your eyelids close tightly, your heart clenched and beating fast.

All of this terror lets you think about Simon. And so you do, and try to not blame him for what he did even if you know in your heart it’s not his fault.

You remember the first time you met him, and you think that’s perhaps one of the best memories you hold.

“If you expect me to fix this, you’ll need to hand over half of your soul and a blessing from God himself,” you frown at the remains of a pair of tweed pants, blinking with your mouth agape. “I’d ask what happened, but I think that would put me on a list of some kind, Sir.”

Simon stares.

“How much?” You sigh and shake your head.

“Really, there’s very little I can do here short of just offering you a new pair.” Placing the scraps on the table and lightly pushing them forward, the man moves his large hand out to take them from you.

Your fingers touch, and you blink as a slight spark makes you flinch. Simon as well, you remember, had snapped his hand back to him, his eyes slightly widening and his throat holding down a breath.

“Woah,” you mutter, touching your head as you suddenly go lightheaded. “S-sorry about that, I don’t know what—”

“Both.” Simon slides the fabric back to you.

Your senses come back in a slow sweep and you clear your throat. “...Both?”

“Fix the pants and sell me another, yeah?” A quirked brow, but something else swims in that dark gaze, something that fights with itself. “I’ll pay. Money’s no problem.”

“Oh,” you blink, taken aback. The both of you stare at each other.

You’re struck by the thought that this man’s eyes are far more deep than anything you’ve looked into before.

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” He grunts, tipping his head and looking to the side for a moment. He wears that strange covering, too. The one that sits on his nose.

“Good.” Simon backs up a step before pausing. “You have a name, then, Tailor?”

You tilt your head and cross your arms, eyes narrowing carefully. “Just as you do.”

That silk fabric twitches, gaze sparking.

“Simon Riley.” Your smile slowly pulls at your muscles, and for the first time throughout the day, you truly mean it.

You don’t know how time works here, but you also can’t really understand that you’re dead. Of course, the thought of an afterlife crossed your mind in your living hours, but you’d never thought you’d go to one so soon.

But every time you blink, you don’t think you’re meant to be here.

So, again, why? The question was mulled over incessantly after every memory of Simon, and you start to believe he’s the catalyst.

What were you missing?

The man himself had hinted at it, talking about how your scent to him was opium—like a drug. It kept him…him even when a monster.

“Please!” You’ve discovered that all of the windows are bolted and the front door is locked, but it never becomes daytime here. A perpetual night and a pleading soul guarding you. In the long hours where you sneak from one empty room to another, so similar to real life that it makes you sick, you wonder if this place is an exact replica of the city you called home.

If some of the other houses are not so vacant after all; the inhabitants hiding like you are. Purgatory sounds about right.

Chains drag and there are garbling sobs and you stare at the door without the key to open it.

The thing was blind—if you could sneak past it…your eyes looked out the window to Simon’s home across the street. There was a pull to all things that included him. A sanctity. Despite how your life had ended, how you’ll surely still think about it and sob out of pain, you can’t blame him for it.

He didn’t have control.

You begin to think of a plan to break out without making any noise as you close your eyes tightly, hands clenching at your sides.

“Back again, Mr. Riley?” Your bell rings and you glance at the intimidating figure walking through. He takes a deep breath when he enters, nodding in greeting before lumbering to the counter.

“Any trouble?” He had a habit of asking this when he’d been gone on a longer trip of his, always back disheveled and with bags under his bloodshot eyes. As if he gets back and the first thing he wants to do is come see you.

The thought didn’t bother you.

You laugh, “I’m happy to report the only thing that happened was that a pigeon ran into the window.”

Brown eyes glance over his shoulder to blink at the impression of feathers on the front glass.

“Poor Bastard,” he huffs, amusement in his accented tone as he slips his hands into his pockets. “Get any feathers out of it? New pillow if you’re lucky.” He tilts his chin. “If you know how to pluck a bloody corpse, that is.”

“You’re incredibly strange, Mr. Riley,” you laugh, nodding your head at him. “I’ve never heard a man state such things.”

“I wrong?” Simon grunts, but you hear his slight smile in his tone.

You only roll your eyes. “I highly doubt a pigeon would give you enough feathers for a pillow.”

“Well, you’re just not fuckin’ trying hard enough then, yeah?”

“Are you here for a reason, Sir?” You can’t stop smiling, holding back your loud laugh as happiness is plainly stated on your face. “Or are you just here to speak to me about the feather-quantity of the local birds?”

Simon’s eyes are crinkled slightly, and you try very hard to imagine him beaming just as you do, though you know it’s slim.

You want to make him smile; you want to be the reason he does. And you don’t even know why.

Your very soul leaps when you see him from across the street, it tightens and calls out like a reaching hand desperate to grasp into another counterpart. You’d never felt like this about a man before, much less one you barely knew anything about on a personal level.

You liked Simon Riley.

“I was thinking ‘bout a new undershirt. Black.” A hand moves up and a pile of money is placed on your counter. “Anything’ll be good, just need a new one.”

“Of course,” you easily slip into business, not bothering to look at the sum. “Special occasion?” You pause before fake laughing. “A lady to impress, perhaps?”

Your heart sinks more than it should; nearly hurting. Did Mr. Riley have a courtship?

He blinks at you carefully, long lashes caressing his scarred cheeks. You swore his lips under the silk twitched.

“No,” is all he says, blunt and casual, thighs shifting.

You stare, hands touching themselves on the counter as heat burns your cheeks.

“Okay,” you mutter, embarrassed, though you don’t know why. “That should be no trouble at all. I’ll just need your measurements.”

Simon nods once, staring at your hands before he takes off his jacket and places it on the wood. You grabbed your long measuring tape and slipped to the front, asking lightly for him to hold out his arms.

Heart hammering, he does so; great torso flexing and face blank.

You begin with the chest, sliding your hands along his clothed body to flatten out the tape until you can see the mark it rested at. It would be false to say you didn’t lose your breath slightly, being so close and able to freely feel the swell of his muscle. Under your fingers, his pulse was like a hammer, and he was so large you actually had to give him a hug to connect the other side around him.

“S-sorry,” but Simon’s eyes are entirely blown, body tense and slightly shivering as your hands feel him.

“Don’t be,” he breathes, and you feel the push of his lungs to his ribcage; molten heat.

Your lips tingle, and heat seeps into your stomach as you shift your thighs to quell it.

Simon grunts, and his head turns down incredibly fast.

You blink. “Mr. Riley?”

“Nothin’,” his lips flinch, and his brown eyes, more like black now, dart to your lips. “M’fine. Keep going.”

You do so, oblivious to the coil in the man’s gut that mirrors yours, flaring with every gentle poke and prod.

It was when you’d almost given up that there seemed to be something else on your side in this god-forsaken place. You found your knife.

It was in the same drawer where your tape measure should be, just sitting there where all else was absent. You stare and slowly reach for it, sliding your fingers over the hilt and the glint of the blade before picking it up.

But you’d checked this drawer a million times over, what had—

There’s the sound of a fluttering of wings outside of your shop, and you’re unimpressed with yourself at how your mind immediately goes to a helpful pigeon spirit. You hold a hand to your lips to stop yourself from laughing, despite it all.

A spark alights in your heart.

“Thank you,” you whisper to nothing, turning the blade over in your hands and smiling.

Walking slowly, you avoid every creak in the wood—unlooping your belt for the small prong that would come in handy. Placing the blade into the slit of the lock, you insert the prong above it, twisting and waiting to hear a series of clicks; putting your ear next to the wood.

The dragging of chains is far off, the loud wailing distant.

Now or never.

You hold your breath and listen to the sounds of the lock, sweating and grimacing. It’s so very silent outside—you’re so used to the clanging of metal and the clop of hooves that it scares you more than the monster. Like you’re standing out in a field but there’s no wind, no air even. Unnatural nothingness.

So hard at focusing, when the click of the door lets you know it’s open, you don’t notice the heavy breathing on the other side. Standing and taking out your knife, you silently celebrate plucking your belt away just as the handle jiggles.

Only you’re not touching the handle.

Blood leaving your face, you can only skitter to the side as the hinges squeal like a dying animal, the barrier slowly opening as your back flattens against the wall. At first, nothing happened.

The door is open and you stare wide-eyed as no sound enters your ears. Lamp-light seeps in, creating a long glow along the floors.

A ragged breath makes you want to shrivel up, and then the wailing starts.

“Please, please, where are my eyes?” Too close.

You flinch wildly as chains are dragged into the room, the scent of dead wood sticking to your nostrils. Up close, the man’s skin is dripping water—seaweed over his shoulders and hanging off his restraints.

He walks inside and the gaping wounds of his eyes make you nearly gag. “Where did you take them? I want them back, please, let me borrow yours until I find mine again.”

He drags his heavy silver chains far into the shop, stumbling and groaning through sobs. Those things seem to have no end to them, and he bumps and walks into the back room right as you slip outside.

Immediately, you rush out into the street, crossing the cobble and hopping the long metal ahead of you as you re-loop your belt with one hand and grip your knife tightly. Getting to Simon’s house, you grasp the handle of the door and pull.

It jerks with a bang of metal.

Locked.

“Shi…” you trail your curse and bite your lip. Silently, you take a step back to quickly think as the warden still calls hopelessly from your shadowed shop. Where else would you go? The inner city? The town?

Your eyelids blink.

The forest. That had to be it—there had to be answers there, right?

You were beginning to grow more fearful that you would be stuck here forever, in between life and death. A branded soul and yet, you weren’t in Hell. Or, at least, you imagined Hell far more hot than this.

Turning, you slip down the steps and speed walk down the road, not running for fear that your shoes would make too much noise. That was also strange—all of your clothes were mended here, stitched back together as if never cut; wounds healed and nonexistent. You weren’t one to complain.

“Where are you going?” The Warden is on the steps, and he falls down them in a shattering of bone and a slurp of wet skin. “Please, give me my eyes! I can hear you running away—I can smell your souls! Let me have what little is still free! Let me see!”

Souls?

You start sprinting as the great wail of chains lets you know you’re being pursued.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your lips expel, skirts swish, and muscles tense all at once. Like a race, the man’s panting breath is almost felt on your neck, bare feet far faster than he should be. “I don’t have your eyes—I’m sorry, but you’ve really got the wrong person! T-try down the block?!”

You call loudly behind you in hopes that it will get him to give up on you, legs pumping harder as he screams with rage and you curse yourself with every breath. He’s gaining on you, somehow, this blind beast is gaining on you.

There was no way you were making it to the forest.

In a split-second decision, your shoes skid over the street, and, steeling yourself with what little sanity you have left, you turn with your knife at the ready.

Hell, you’d already died once.

But you’d never forget the image of this beast running towards you with a wailing mouth and dragging chains, the things so heavy they wrench back his arms. You falter for a moment, but shake your head and raise the knife in one hand, gritting your teeth despite your unimaginable fear.

Bravery was far too hard at this moment, but there was no more running. You take down a shaky breath and will your arm to stop vibrating with its sweaty palm.

“My eyes!” It screams. “Give me your eyes!”

Seven feet, five, four, three—

A familiar rageful roar takes over, and a black shadow covers the street lamp light from above as if a storm of vengeance. You watch as the gargantuan body flies over you and wastes little time for pleasantries.

The Ghost slams its body into the Warden, and they go down in a flurry of feral snarls and wails. You watch, frozen still with shock, as black claws can be heard tearing through flesh and rending meat, a slick slapping of pig slop as black blood spills to the streets.

In the utter absence of all else, you listen with a quivering body, the fear extending down to your spine. Not of the other thing on its back, wailing and sobbing about its eyes even as its gut is invaded by a large muzzle and ivory fangs, but of that muzzle-owner itself.

You didn’t realize how much of a shock it would be to see Simon again. Like this.

Your eyes stare blankly at how an arm is ripped from its socket, shredded from a shoulder, and tossed to the sidewalk with a rabid jerk; the body of the Warden lifted as the Ghost rises to his back paws and grips tightly. Hands on the lower half, mouth on the top, your jailer is torn in two with nothing more than a tear and a sound of vertebrae popping.

Black splatters over your cheeks, but you make no move to swipe it away.

Simon drops the body to the ground, and it twitches—it speaks as it bounces. Brown eyes dig into its mangled face, ears erect.

“My eyes…M-my…eye—” A large paw pad is pressed into its head, and pressure is leveled. Brought down like an anvil.

The Ghost crushes a skull under his foot and the resounding pop is enough to make you snap out of your frozen terror. He turns to you seconds later, mouth stopping its snarling and going silent all at once.

The beast blinks slowly, ear twitching once.

Averting your gaze, you completely give up in light of this new arrival and clench your eyes shut. Your neck hurts—burns—like it’s being ripped open over and over again, snapping, and the light getting sucked away.

Great feet take lumbering steps forward; you take one back.

“I…I don’t,” you shudder and shake, hand holding your knife. Your mind can’t comprehend him being here—in this void with you, leaping in a great bound to tackle the monster to the ground. No, no, this was another phantom. He was going to kill you again.

Wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t his fault.

You back up some more until there’s a soft huff. It’s tiny, small as if coming from a lap dog that Mrs. Ida would own. Your eyes are firmly shut, yet he tries again.

A wet nose is leveled to your forehead, pressing in and tapping you lightly. A chuffing noise echoed in the back of his throat, gruff and low as he breathed you in. You hide a whimper as that nose dips to your neck, imagining the ways he’s going to sink his teeth in and how your bones will—

The Ghost sags into you, and with a flick of his ears, the large head begins to rub into your flesh as he grunts. Your eyes snap open as his gargantuan hands circle your waist, anchoring you to his chest as he leans back on his haunches; small noises bouncing from his breast as he curls his head behind yours. You’re lifted gently as you squeak, hands snapping to dig through fur and, like logs, your feet dangle from under you.

You don’t speak as Simon begins running out of the city, down the black outskirts. Into the midnight shadows the two of you disappear in the direction of the mirrored forest, your body in his grip and the side of his head never failing to lean into yours. You can feel his eyes roving, darting down and around, before always coming back to you regardless of the things he smells here.

Like a candle in the dark, he had already scoured the bounds of this purgatory for you—waiting for that small flicker of something to grasp onto that would let him find your light. And it hadn’t been your scent or the way you’d yelled. It had been the very call of your soul, or, at least, souls.

Because that was what it was.

The reason you were here instead of Hell was because that corruption had only marked your soul. Not realizing that half of it didn’t belong to you.

Simon knew little about how it worked, but sometimes people are only born with a fraction of their soul as theirs—the other pieces snapping into place when a match is met but still not held as theirs. Your other half, the reason you stayed here, was because Simon’s soul had held you up like a rope to an anchor.

That spark in the tailor’s shop; the longing and the insatiable pull to be near you—marked as two pieces of a puzzle sitting right next to each other, the image leaking from one to the other.

A Fated Pair.

The Ghost breaks through the treeline and you curl into him as he covers you with his arms, eyes watching the black trees and the void of space above him. There were no stars here—no moon. You can’t see anything, but he can.

Simon rushes your intertwined souls back to the place he had dragged himself through; a great fissure in the earth that had opened and swallowed your body who knows how long ago. Weeks, months—years, even. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered.

His instincts brought him through, and his guilt had kept him going; this all-consuming and deathly guilt. He’d never forgive himself, but he can’t leave you here.

Simon finds the fissure as great screams begin to wail out from the city, echoing off the trees and over the air. A scream and a plea. Hundreds, thousands.

He doesn’t bother to stay, because you’re in his arms and his nose breathes in your scent. You grip onto him tightly, shaking with a fear-bathed quiver to your lips, and those large arms hold you ever closer; a large grunt and a rub of his chin.

Simon stands on the very edge of a void, and he jumps.

—

You wake to the large dog curled around you, softly breathing and using his body to shield you from the gentle snowfall. So warm does his blood run, that you don’t even feel the cold on you, only the brush of silk and the hard press of his hands.

Simon’s breath ruffles your hair, his spine shaped in such a way that not a sliver of you is visible to the world beyond your head in his neck, resting on the swell of his softness like a pillow. As if he was a swan, keeping you in a bed of feathers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you take air down to bathe in the scent of earth.

The Ghost shifts, grunting and not letting up on his grip.

You’re in the very same place you died, yet there’s no evidence of that—the blood is gone, the broken trees are surrounded by young ones, and the snow is deeper than it had been before. But your clothes are…

You shift, and the beast lets you go easily, though his eyes don’t leave your face. He stays on the ground as you sit up, looking down at yourself.

While the forest may have moved on, you, it seems, have not.

Your clothes are back to the state they’d been in before—torn and ripped open, long gouging marks and stains that would never come out. You tense at the sight, swallowing saliva down as if wine with a grimace. Like a magnetic link, your eyes slowly turn up to meet Simon’s.

He waits. He watches. That muzzle of his closed and his breath slow. If you told him to get away, there would be no doubt that he would—he would disappear and never come back to you, a memory that fades into a dream and then farther on.

Your fingers twitch as his large claw lifts, a finger pointed and slowly coming up to your face. You try not to balk away as it draws near to your nose, where a tiny snowflake rests. The blackened sickle pauses, Simon’s chest expands, and then he slightly brushes it away with little more than a twitch of his finger.

The knife is only a foot away, sitting bright and glinting in the morning light. You look to the sky to distract from your burning cheeks; your internal war.

Light. Real and glowing above you from a globe set into the heavens.

Gazing at it with wide eyes, your sockets fill with stinging tears, blinking until they slip down your cheeks and you put a hand over your mouth as a small sob wafts out. You bend your spine forward and cry, gasping.

Simon keeps himself away, unknowing if he should reach out or if he would only make it worse. His great body is tight with agony, souls raging with pain. Everything in this form was more instinctual, more in tune, he wanted to comfort you—to make it alright again, but even as a human, when had he ever been good at that?

The Ghost watched, body wound up but still deathly still; ears pointing straight. His hands twitch.

You sob until your lungs hurt and your head feels light, not knowing how to process this in the slightest. When you’re done you numbly stare at the ground below you, trying to rid your mind of death, demons, and wool.

A human hand on the top of your head makes you startle.

Snapping your red eyes up, you meet tight orbs of brown, a face twisted with remorse and a deep inner hatred.

“I…” Simon’s lips utter out, his voice low and pale skin in the snow. “M’sorry, Sweet Girl. I can never fuckin’ give you an apology that matters, eh? But I need to say it—I need you to know.” You stare and feel his fingers caress your scalp. He looks away, breath small. “It’s all my bloody fault, yeah? So don’t you dare think for a second that anythin’ comes back to you.”

The hand threatens to leave you, to slip back down and return to his side, but with a small noise of alarm—one that had Simon’s eyes widened in concern—your body darts forward.

Connecting with him, you make him grunt as his biceps press into your side, shocked as his first reaction is to make sure you don’t fall.

“Get me out of here,” you plead. “Please, Simon, get me out of here.”

There’s no hesitation as he lifts you upward, a bridal hold like the same he had used to lift you above the thorns and mutters into your hair as he quickly walks into the trees.

“C’mere, I’ve got you. Don’t cry, c’mon now, you’re back. You’re back.” The knife is left far in the past, and there it will stay—far away from the two of you. “Breathe, then.”

You bury your head into his neck, breathing hard and shaking not from the cold but from memories; things you shouldn’t know.

“M’sorry,” Simon says again, voice cracking. “Christ, I’ll never say it enough.”

If you hated him he understood—would welcome that Hell in its own right. Of all the things he’d done, this was the worst sin he could have ever committed. He’d spend the rest of his life thanking whatever power was out there that had broken the earth for him; had led him to you. His tailor.

You sob through a panicked chuckle. “Y-you already have, you brute.”

Simon rubs his face into your hair, holding your quivering souls together and opening his mouth in a shaking exhale as his eyes flutter.

“Breathe,” is all he says, repeating everything like a record and an order as you hone on the stiff tone—getting you to focus.

You follow the pulse in his neck, lips pressing into his flesh as your head tilts.

You’re both back at Simon’s hut as you still try to calm yourself, the man’s face turned into yours and his forehead pressing into your scalp. There’s so little for you to grasp onto besides him—how he feels, the dig of his fingers, and the sound of his breath.

He sets you on the bed and he pauses, kneeling down slowly as his hands come to gently clutch your cheeks.

“Can you look at me, Love?” Simon asks you, voice gruff in its low tone. You shiver, sniffling, before your eyes stutter over his features and land on those burial mound browns. He releases a tiny puff of breath—a flicker of his lip.

“Atta girl, jus’ like that, then.” The man blinks slowly, tilting. Simon looks you over with a heavy expression, one that shows the pain and the weight he carries. “Need to get these off, okay?”

A finger lightly travels to your neck, tapping the remnants of your shirtwaist as a few more tears slip out when you blink, shakily nodding. Simon’s lips tighten.

“Want to do it yourself,” he breathes, “or is it alright if I touch you, Sweetheart?” Your hands are too unstable to do it yourself, he knows that just as well as you do.

So, in a small broken whisper, you simply utter out, “Please.”

Simon nods once and the topic is settled; he knows.

The man’s fingers deftly undo the buttons, one after the other as the light from outside seeps into the small square of a home. He doesn’t comment—doesn’t make a sound—just does what he can to help you and get you sorted out; Simon could hear the rapid set of your heart, feel your pulse like a rampaging storm.

When you’re down to nothing but your flesh, the man grabs the covers from behind you and wraps you in them, his eyes not once flickering downward until you’re entirely swamped by fabric. A hand on your waist squeezes.

By now the brush of his skin atop yours had sucked you in as if lighting had struck with every pass or small press. The glide of his scars and calluses grounded you here.

There were very few beings that would hunt for you through life and death and fewer that stayed that course. Thumbs once more brush away the water on the swell of your face.

“Sleep,” he utters, even if there’s light outside.

You gaze at him, at his stubble and his pale complexion; the wind rustles outside. What would he do? Guard the door most likely, perhaps even think of how to get into town and grab new clothes for the both of you, food, and necessities. Simon’s mind was fighting itself, just as it always had but now there was the largest stain on his consciousness that he could ever remember having.

He was worried if he handled you, you might break under him. You…you already had. Avoidance, even if it killed him inside, was the best course of action.

Your mouth is filled with wool, tongue heavy, but in your heart and whatever feeling you have burning in your chest, you know you can’t let him move away from you. Simon being this close made it…easier. Even if a piece of you was still hesitant about black fur and sharp teeth. He had said it himself, hadn’t he?

Simon wasn’t the Ghost, but at the same time how could they ever be apart from one another?

Yet, your lips are already moving just as he’s about to stand up.

“Stay?” Simon’s lungs take in a silent breath, a moment of long silence as he tries to understand why you would want to be around him at all. His hands twitch, your eyes catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a slow swallow. “Please, Simon,” you breathe. “I don’t…I can’t be alone again.”

He grunts and is already lifting you.

Simon shifts your body back and lays you nearest to the wall, shuffling his body until he can lie with his spine facing you; his face to the door as he stays unblinking.

“Nothing's going to happen to you,” he says, and you turn so you can lightly rest your head into the span of his shoulder blades. Simon’s jaw clenches. “It’s safe here. We’ll figure it out when you’ve got your energy back.”

You want him to explain, but perhaps right now sleep was the best option. For all intents and purposes—you can’t even remember when you last had true sleep. So you stay there, skin to skin, and breath to breath as the sun still shines outside; the wind travels slowly.

As you slip off, Simon has to restrain himself from turning around and pressing you into him—leveling his head above yours and breathing you in like how he wishes he could. But no. Too much.

He’d explain it all when you were better.

So he settles on the fact that all he can do is watch the door with a far-off expression, his body sagging back into you as your heat meets his.

—

You slept for three days, and in that time, Simon had only left once. On day two he went into town where he’d snuck like a thief—and there truly was no better analogy. Wearing only a blanket once more, the man breaks into your closed Tailor’s shop; boards on the windows and a sign out front to set it for sale. Inside, everything was as it had been left. Dust and layers of stale air, but there was never a better place to be for Simon.

It was where he met you, after all.

He takes everything he’s able to carry. A large trunk of clothes, personal belongings, and anything that looks of great importance; clothing himself in a simple undershirt and pants along the way. With that, he goes to his own home and grabs all manner of money. Come morning, people would believe it was a robbery, and that was perfectly fine with him.

Mostly everything belonged to you, anyway. They could have his sparsely furnished home and its cracking foundations. It mattered not. But he knew you needed your work—your passion.

As he grunts and lifts the trunk, a knicker echoes out behind him. Blinking, dark eyes look behind to find a meeting pair—a long horse’s neck leaning out of a stall. They stare at each other before Simon huffs a chuckle and turns to the shadows.

When you finally did open your eyes again, deep in the third night, everything was different.

You blink at the bright roar of the fireplace, the flickering of the candles that push back any darkness—curtains on the windows to hide the blackness of midnight. There are your belongings on the cleaned table; the foot of the bed and, there, on the desk. Measuring tape, fabric scissors, and yards of materials are stacked in the spotless corners.

There’s no doubt that the broken window is fixed for the moment as well.

New sheets sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to get up before he can fit them. Jaw loose, you glance all around as the fabric pools at your waist, bare body glistening in the light as your head moves like a bird back and forth slowly. Dare you say it, the place felt…homely. Warm. Small, yes, but the definition of comfort rarely mattered when speaking on size.

There’s a shuffling sound outside the door and you realize you’re alone.

Face stuck at the door, your sudden tension is somewhat lessened by the small grunts and puffs of a large nose and heavy, clawed, feet. Somewhat.

An open maw bites down on your throat with a tearing of flesh before your neck fully snaps.

Your hand lightly comes up to your throat, pressing very loosely as the sounds continue, spiking your cautious curiosity. You know you shouldn’t be holding this against him, but, you had…died. You had felt your neck snap and your blood coat his fangs.

Somehow, Simon had brought you back from that, but he had been the one to do it in the first place.

No, you think, feet very carefully sitting on the floor. No, not Simon. The Ghost.

Yet again—aren't those the same? It was a constant question.

Your lips are thin as the dagger in your heart digs ever deeper, but it is your dagger, and it is also your heart, too. Yours. Standing, you cover yourself with the thin sheet, hearing it drag behind you as your body takes you to the door with quiet and even steps.

So much the two of you have gone through—it seemed hard to comprehend it in this world of black fire and battling beasts; hell and purgatory. He’d tracked you down…how? As your hand meets the handle, slowly walking feet coming closer from beyond it, you tighten your hold on the fabric near your neck and breathe slowly.

You first see crimson, and then the beady brown eyes of a large dog and a stained muzzle. Breath tight, you stare at the dead bodies of two sheep in the Ghost’s maw, limp bodies hanging from the legs out of puffed cheeks. The both of you halt your courses.

Simon’s eyes slash down your nearly-naked form, and he drops the animals to the ground before his head darts to the side; snow splattered with blood and the imprint of large woolen bodies. He snorts and takes a single step back, seemingly hunching down lower as he sniffs the air in distraction.

His feet pivot, one clawed foot moving away.

“Simon,” you say, breath puffing over the cold air. He waits, head only slightly tilting your way; eyes pointing down. You don’t know why you speak, why you call to him like this.

The silence settles as you struggle to articulate, mouth opening and closing like it was a choice between speech or the metaphorical blade to your throat. You close your mouth and look to the side, the lids of your eyes tightly shut.

Without another word, you’re setting your feet in the drowned snow and walking up to him, fingers shaking before your hand extends from the elbow. It rests above the side of his muzzle, hovering with a tiny quiver as you fight with your own fear.

You can feel Simon’s eyes on you now, watching. Always watching. Forever watching. Eyes like hard earth; like the dirt under your nails.

Simon’s throat grumbles, and before you can make a decision, he helps make one for you.

He softly moves his great lumbering head down and to the side—slotting it under your hand as you gasp, feeling the strands of fur under your grip. Immediately, your eyes snap to meet his, seeing long lashes holding snowflakes. The Ghost’s so large that he has to bend low in order to give you a comfortable resting point for your hand; sitting in between his sharp ears.

You swallow down your nervousness as the seconds draw on, your heart rate slowing until you can properly move closer and feel the waves of fur beneath your fingertips. Playing with them, you card your digits in gentle strokes, hearing the low purr that rattles your bones as a great weight is leveled into your torso.

A tiny giggle emanates from your chest, and the beast responds by only pushing himself deeper into your stomach.

“Easy,” you mutter, eyes light as a smile forms on your lips.

The chill seeps in gradually as you both stand there, a werewolf and a barely-clothed tailor. Before long you’re shivering even as you feel content next to Simon and to steal some of his furnace-like heat.

You pull back and the wolf momentarily tilts to find you, only to open his eyes when he can’t feel your sturdy body. He blinks, before slowly standing back up to his full height.

The light from the hut seeps out to cover you, and you take comfort in that—if the door shuts on its own, you’d be left in a darkness you know you’ll fear for many, many years. With its illumination, you speak freely.

“I don’t know how you did it, Simon,” his right ear twitches. “But…but I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. I should, I know I should, but for the life of me, whenever you’re near I can’t think straight. Please, when you’re back to,” you huff a tiny laugh, “whenever you’re back to walking in a man’s skin, explain it to me. Explain why I can’t think of anyone else but you.”

Avoiding the sheep, you step back into the hut and close the door as those dead eyes follow loyally, the wolf not breathing beyond a thin line of condensation wafting into the air.

You only make it five steps back to bed before the wooden barrier is opened loudly, hitting off the back wall and shutting closed on its own. Turning back quickly, startled, you��re met with a fast panting chest and a human hand that swipes blood away from his lips. Bare skin is close to yours, and your eyes widen at the instantaneous blown feeling of your pupils.

Simon’s face is above yours.

“Because you own half of my fuckin’ soul,” he breathes into your scalp, accent rich and heavy with implication. “Just as I own half of yours.”

Literal or a metaphor, you care not.

You both stay there, hearts pumping and skin tingling as the air increases in temperature—the sheet around you held in a tight fist suddenly seems almost suffocating. Your arms itch to drop it. Drop it now and let him see you; let him feel you like no other has. Where did these thoughts come from? Or…had they always been there?

The man hasn’t moved, and you know he won’t do anything unless you ask it of him, but you can smell the sweat on his skin, the scent of blood and musk. Quick death and dragging claw.

If he was fire, it would be a blessing to be burned.

“Simon,” you say, voice tight. He grunts like a damn dog, hands at his sides twitching as his bare chest shines. So many scars. You want to trace them, to feel them writhe. “You’re no good for me.”

“I know,” he growls.

You press your lips to his and breathe him down as the sheet falls from your shoulders, all-encompassing hands finding the swell of your hips and sliding behind them; gripping tightly. Your own dig at his waist, finding the bulk of his abs and the deep tapper of his v-line before you gasp at his hand kneading the flesh of your arse.

At the motion, Simon takes the opportunity to smirk before letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You release a small noise from the back of your throat, and he groans—one hand coming up to grip the base of your skull and maneuvering your head farther upward. He pulls back and presses into you, your face growing hot as he finds your neck and starts leaving deep open-mouthed kisses as his chest vibrates.

Lips swollen and sensitive, you whimper as he bites down at every other interval; arms around his waist and nails running up and down his spine. Simon shivers, hips lightly bucking as you press on the small of his back.

“Fuckin’ hell, Love,” he nuzzles under your ear, pupils wide and blackened, feral-like. “The things you do to me, yeah? Drivin’ me up a damn wall whenever I caught a whiff of what I did to you.”

Your stomach is rolling in tight knots of desire, lungs heaving as his hands squeeze and travel. At your core, you can already feel the slippery effect on your folds—a stain of sin that leaks out with nothing to hold it hostage inside of you. Face tightening as Simon groans long, he leaves hickey after hickey, as if unable to not mark your neck and under-ear.

The feeling of teeth there doesn’t even startle you, no, not now.

You ache with need, legs threatening to close in on themselves before Simon loops a hand in your inner thigh and keeps them open. The world around you blurs as your body tingles with a yearning that almost hurts.

“C’mon now, Sweetheart,” his lips come back to yours and you let him ravish you with long, deep kisses as his hand moves up. You balk forward and shiver as you feel the deep press of his growing lust for you against your stomach. “Don’t wanna know how long I’ve been dreamin’ about this.”

Your eyes flutter, and you gasp out through the joining of your hungry mouths, “Show me, Simon. Show it to me.”

His teeth bite slowly into your bottom lip, easing you into this game of wolf and sheep as his half-closed eyes open and dig into you. Simon’s fingers flex but don’t move, the other still at the base of your neck; your own have been leaving crescent-shaped marks on his back for a while, absentmindedly pulsing along with the heated blood in your veins.

There are still the remnants of sheep’s blood on his cheek—slashed up the side of his face and over his deep-set eyebrow, but you find you don’t care at all.

With how his fingers tap so close yet so far to that sensitive bundle and the dripping mess of your insides, nothing matters.

“My Girl wants that?” Simon hums, and as easily as if he were picking up a shirt from your shop, he lets his thick fingers push you open as you suck in a quick breath and sag into him. Into his neck you sigh, hitched airways making it seem tight. Instinctually you open your legs wider, whining at the press of calluses and scars in your clutch and sliding up your sensitive walls.

Simon stops and waits mid-way past his first knuckle with two fingers, groaning as you tighten and flex around him at the foreign sensation. His thumb at the back of your head moves up and down, his own thighs hard with eagerness and a stain in his abdomen from the lack of attention—but he cares little about his own leaking head, content only when able to give you pleasure in the purest form.

Your stomach as well as his are wet from his weeping tip, the chill of it making you both shiver and try to mash your bodies ever closer as the sheet below you two is tangled at your feet. The fireplace crackles.

“Simon,” you keen, and he answers with a bite of your shoulder before rubbing his head into your neck. Like opium, he’d said. If only he could tell you your scent now was convincing enough to make him lay on a bed of burning coals if only he could smell it for three more seconds.

Arousal. Lust. Animalistic desperation that Simon’s eager to bring you to the brink of—face sick with pleasure and eyes blown with numb satisfaction. Open and bare to him.

“Attagirl, that’s it,” he slides his digits deeper as your hips buck, making him grit his teeth to hold back a grunt as his dick is jostled. “So wet for me, fuckin’ perfect. Let me help, yeah?”

“Fuck, Simon,” he buries his fingers at the base, wasting no time in crooking them back toward him and pulling his wrist down. You moan loudly, stretching and being played like an instrument. Simon’s fingers repeat the motion until you’re a mess of rutting thighs and shaky legs.

The man takes down every moan and whimper—every sigh and jerk with a growing sense of pride. His dick is begging for friction, and the little bit he gets is from your stomach rubbing against it with every slippery sound of his fingers entering and exiting your core.

Simon’s mouth is open with a tight pant for breath, mirroring yours before the pad of his palm rubs against your bundle. You arch into him, whining and pleading instantly with a burning face, half convinced something had overtaken your body to make you act in such a way.

The man moves his fingers faster, making sure to maneuver his limb in such a way as to get your clit harder and harder with every pass, leaving you limp in his arms. Simon anchors you to him with a hand on the back of your shoulder blades, grip hard and knuckles white.

As your face screws up and a fire burns in your core, nails leave long scratches down the back of his torso as if he was a wooden trunk to tie a horse to—a rock in a storm.

“Simon,” you sigh out, head stuck under his chin. “S-so good, keep going.”

He opens his mouth as he rubs his chin on the top of your scalp, mixing your scents together potently.

“Look at me,” Simon utters, in his desperation to bring you to the edge, his accent is as deep as you’d ever heard it. “Look at me, Love. Wanna see your eyes watchin’ me as you fall apart. I’ll make it good, promise.”

“K…” You gasp as everything keeps building up and up, teeth clenching together and legs fighting to close around his hand—Simon bullies you open through the overstimulation; the flood of your senses. “Know you will!”

“So good to me, Sweetheart,” he grumbles, taking you by the side of your cheek and leaning back slightly so he can still let you rest on him but also watch.

Your eyes flutter with every rapid intrusion from Simon’s digits, tight and textured walls giving in to him as he pushes and prods, searching for something as his brows crease and his abdomen bunches. The man’s biceps flex and strain, feet wide open and lips parted as he locks onto your gaze.

“Fuck, what a bloody sight to see. Yeah, you enjoying that, then?” He mutters, and only when he pushes those teasing words out does he find a point inside of you that leaves your mouth opening and your toes curling; that he truly loses his breath.

Holding your head forward, Simon’s jaw slackens as your face contorted with pain-like expressions of confused pleasure, sweat glistening your forehead and your lips swollen—neck nothing more than raised skin from all of the man’s biting.

You strangle down such an instinctive and leg-shaking moan that Simon nearly forgets that he’s not even truly inside of you yet; balls tightening with building excitement and his length begging to be squeezed, used for nothing but that same expression on your face.

“Christ,” he breathes, teeth grinding and feeling you fight to keep his fingers in. Slick drips down his wrist, tapping the floor in a clear stain that could bring him to his knees.

You can’t even speak, spine curling with such raw electric sparks. If Simon isn’t careful, your legs will entirely fail you.

“Sim-” Your voice is high, mixed with panic as you let him hit that same point again and again like a hunter. “Simon!” You chant, fighting to meet his eyes as your vision blurs.

Everything was too hot, the scrape of his calluses on your flesh like a knife raking through your insides with pleasurable stabs.

“Jus’ like that, Love,” he breathes, not blinking. “C’mon know you feel it. Squeezin’ my fingers just right. Look at that pretty little face.”

You’re building and building, standing on the precipice of a large chasm. There’s nothing to stop you from going over the edge—and you don’t want anything too.

Your body tenses gradually, knees wobbling and your abdomen pulling into itself. A sharp claw seems to play with the string of your impending release, fiddling with it and taking it into its fingertip; rubbing it back and forth in a slow game.

Your breath comes out in short gasps, moans getting higher and more cut, Simon’s eyes are transfixed, panting like a dog, and, in an instant right before you break, moves his fingers at a break-neck pace.

Your sharp cry is caught on his lips, sucking it down as your orgasm floods his hand, leaving it a sticky mess that he continues finger-fuck you through with firm strokes. He’s whispering praises on your lips, keeping you up as his hand snaps to your waist when your legs buckle. Your walls move like a noose, letting the man fantasize how it would feel to have you speared open in his lap as you writhe and take him down in the low light.

All of these thoughts, this sight, make him harder by the second.

Simon keeps moving his fingers, drawing your explosive release out until you plead quietly for him to stop from overstimulation. The sensation makes your abused clit cause your spine to arch with every touch of his wet palm. He obliged, the sound of slick slapping halting, but his fingers didn’t leave your spasming cunt as your limp head fell to his shoulder.

Your chest heaves, aftershocks leaving your mind blank to all else but the press of skin and sweat. The air reeks of sex and hot breath.

Simon’s head clacks yours, fingers flexing as you whimper and dig your hands into his sides. He chuckles and slowly pulls out, taking long strings of cum with him as they string his fingers together and dribble to the floor from your slit. He holds you up, uncomfortably shifting his feet when your body jostles his raging erection—making him hold back a tight gasp.

“Good?” The man asks, gruff and casually. Your open mouth lays a firm kiss on his burning flesh as he side-eyes you waiting for a response.

“Yeah,” your voice is far off. Simon chuckles lowly.

In an easy sweep of his arms, you’re picked up and carried to the bed; set down to the plushness that’s down one sheet. You lay on your back, gazing up at the man as he stares down at you in turn.

Neither of you speaks until Simon has to rip his eyes away, clearing his throat. Your eyes travel down before widening at the violent red of the man’s length—the thing twitching and dripping pre-cum down to the base in an obvious plea for stimulation. Yet Simon makes no move to do anything.

“You should get some more rest—”

“Let me help,” you whisper, eyes widely innocent as they meet the browns that snap your way, those orbs slightly widening. “I own half your soul…right?”

Simon watches you, jaw loose.

“It looks painful,” you ease out, pointedly moving your gaze downward with unabashed boldness.

“Is,” he utters. If he was being honest, he was worried that he had been coming on too strong—that this part of the night might be going a bit far. You were a lady, after all, and he respected you as such. He needed confirmation.

“Then let me help, Simon.” Your eyes blink at him, hand coming up to trace the bulk of his thigh muscles. His breath goes shallow, self-control fraying fast. Just a little more. You lick your lips. “I want to feel you take me like no one else has. I want you to stay in this bed with me until the fire goes out and the light outside peels through the curtains. Can you do that for me?”

Your wet core pulses again, wanting—waiting for something more. Something only Simon could give you.

The man’s chest rattles. “Yes,” he relays, words low.

After a moment of eye contact, the man places his knee on the bed, shifting so that he has himself in between your legs; hands coming up beside your head. Your lungs are heavy, fingers coming up to rub over his blood-stained cheek as his nose brushes yours. Simon’s stubble itches you, but you still sigh constantly as he kisses you once more.

This was slower than the previous—less desperate though you don’t know how as you could feel the strain of his length prodding like a hot iron in your inner thigh. It made you slightly nervous, the size and the action itself, but you didn’t doubt who you wanted to be the one above you.

Simon kisses the side of your lips, nipping at the skin as he grunts out, “You sure?”

Brown eyes never waver as they stare you down. Any ounce of hesitation would be found immediately and the action would be over; Simon paraded around as a cold and heartless beast, but never had there been a man more considerate of your own safety. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You drag your fingers through his hair and he shudders, one grip sliding to your legs as the drag of barely-there claws makes your breath hitch. Your lips mutter, quietly, “Yes.”

“Gotta make me believe it, Sweetheart,” Simon kisses over all of the marks he left, slowly dragging the warm press of his mouth and side-eyeing you.

You glare down at him and feel his smirk on your skin, how he hooks his hand under your knee and lightly lifts the limb. Your muscles flex at the sudden spread of your legs, your hand in his hair grasping tighter. Simon sighs low as your body shifts, shivering at the slick heat he restrains himself from rutting against.

Face burning at your bare excitement, the man’s eyes glaze over.

“I’m sure, Simon.”

“Don’t wanna make you feel like you have to—”

“Simon,” you interrupt his comment, and the blond huffs, the air sliding over your heated skin.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.” You smile softly and drag his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. “Let me try…” Simon mutters on your lips, and soon both of his hands are pushing up your knees as you widely blink at the openness of your core before your legs are folded up.

You whine at the stretch, the embarrassment of having your dripping folds on full display. This was foreign to you.

Simon hums, looking down and groaning. He taps his forehead to yours as you breathe deeply, letting him take control.

“Okay?” He asks, and your heart skips a beat.

“Are you going to keep stalling,” you breathe, looking into his gaze teasingly. “Or are you going to show me how you can’t function without me beside you?”

There’s a stretch as he lines himself up, hips moving back and abdomen sliding over yours—your lungs stutter as his eyes glint at you; lips flicking in a smirk.

“You going to keep me here?” You breathe, voice breathy as Simon’s length begins to steadily press forward, your face twists as you take him down, lines forming on your forehead. “Make me,” his hands keep your legs up beside you, open as they tighten. His lids narrow in concentration at the tight vice of your walls, having to slowly bully his way into you inch by inch. “Make me tailor your clothes a-and spin your wool?”

The sounds from your joining bodies are vulgar. A slide and a coating of flesh with natural assistance as Simon’s jaw clenches, not able to help the jump of his pelvis as you moan and arch your back as he moves even farther into your clutch.

You both writhe as he bottoms out, bodies shaking at the intensity of the moment and the sparks under your flesh.

“Ah,” Simon strangles a whine, eyes tight shut as yours follow. Quick kisses are placed on your lips. “Don’t tempt me, yeah?”

The great stretch of your insides leaves you sighing, tiny waves of pain pushed back by pleasurable pulsing and the scrape of veins. His head lays in the hold of your womb, slick leaking out from the ring of your core.

“We,” your hips jerk, and Simon’s hands on your knees tighten until you know there’ll be bruises come morning. “We’re beyond temptation.”

Simon chuckles—his eyes dark and glimmering in the firelight. “Smart girl.”

He lets you adjust there for a moment, even if his dick is pleading with him to move and drive your back into the mattress; to see your face crease in rapture. But that wasn’t what his head wanted, no, he wanted this done right.

When you look at him and your thighs stop shaking, he carefully grinds himself into you, letting your bundle of nerves meet the wirehair of his happy trail and give himself the slightest feeling of relief. You bite your lip, one hand on Simon’s cheek and the other still in his hair.

The angle of your legs makes you feel him that much deeper, even as he simply grinds himself inside of you and doesn’t move much beyond that.

“Feels good, y’know that?” Simon mutters as your mouth takes down a slow breath, eyes stuck on each other as the man fully begins to remove himself and softly flinch his length back into you; exiting just enough before letting him re-enter. “Tight; warm.” He shudders, gritting his teeth. “C-can smell you like this—how much you want it. Always have.”

You whine at the words, tightening around him as he begins gently fucking you in earnest, the slap of skin and tight walls joining the crackle of wood. The scents on the air are a perfect mix of addictive pheromones—so potent even you can smell it as you try to meet every dig of his hips.

Simon’s face goes to your neck, nuzzling into it as his eyes go tight.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out a groan into your ear, mouth open.

The heat returns easily to you, the burning in your gut. Simon’s pelvis hits you, stimulating your clit every time in the perfect way, as if he’d glanced at your body once and immediately memorized what made you tick. His sweat drips and pools with your own, slick leaking out to the mattress and making you feel dirty in the best way as your cut-off sighs hit the ceiling. It's hot in here; nearly too hot to focus on the slide of skin and dig of your nails into his hair. It’s telling how fast you seem to hit that peak again, at the constant scrape of his veins and the push of your walls as if trying to force him in.

Your back arches into him, and Simon cants his hips faster, biting on your chin and pulling at your lips as his eyes watch with eagerness. His abdomen bunches at the sheer pleasure he feels making you feel like this, chest heaving and large build all but swallowing you below him.

“Simon,” you breathe, kissing him on his lips eagerly, growing desperate.

“Let me take care of you,” the man grunts hard, getting harder to focus, “trust me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, clenching your jaw as he brushes a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes go blurry for a moment. Your lips move without your brain understanding the slurred words. “Yes, I trust you. I…I…oh, fuck.”

He sighs and bites a whimper down as your walls flex, gripping him tighter and tighter.

“Knew I’d find you,” Simon pushes your legs harder into the mattress, form slightly shaking. You moan high into his mouth, eyes fluttering and knot growing tighter. “Knew I’d make it right, eh? Death can’t keep you away from me, not now. I’ll find you.”

You gasp, itching cord snapping and release spilling out around the plug of his dick as he continues on as you jerk and rut out of order; eyebrows pulled in. It isn’t long after that Simon follows you, shoving his lips on yours as his mouth parts with a tight cry. Inside of you the spill of his seed fills your womb and he fucks through it, hands releasing your legs to rub up and down your sides.

Your core floods as he stays there, resting and stationary above you, his weight heavy but not crushing. The both of you stare at one another and breathe down the heated air; all of the scents and the desire there—the unspoken bond that extends life and death.

Simon grunts and forces out, breathless, staring through blown pupils.

“I’ll always find you.”

In the morning there’s a pile of wool sitting in a cloth sack against the wall, and the sound of chopping wood outside. The curtains are drawn to the bright rays of the morning sun as they meet your softly smiling face, visage half-covered by the newly fitted sheets.

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littlemissayu · 3 months

Note

this is my first time requesting so if this sucks sorry! You can ignore it if you want!

I was thinking what the dorm leaders favorite thing about the reader, if you can do this request it is much appreciated! Hope you have a nice day<3

“It’s the Little Things” - TWST Dorm Leaders favorite thing about you

A/N: Thanks for sending in the request!! Besides I love writing fluff, and fluffy headcanons!! I hope you also have the loveliest day <3!!

Warning: fluff, reader is implied to be MC/Yuu

Pairing: Dorm Leaders x Reader

Your forehead - It may seem weird and random but he loves giving you kisses on your forehead. It feels intimate and loving. Every morning and night he kisses you on the forehead to wish you good morning and good night. And sometimes after kisses your cheek he’d look into your eyes and smooth his thumb over his cheek

You groggily open your eyes to see your red headed lover staring at your face, lovingly. In a soft yet raspy morning voice he says “Good morning dearest-“ he kisses you on the forehead “how’d you sleep?”

You loved mornings with Riddle ♡

Your neck & chest - Leona loves to settle his face into your neck/chest. It feels comforting and warm; he can take in your scent that he ever so loves. Leona is always placing kisses there, marking you. He typically naps on your chest to hear your heartbeat, it’s soothing to know your still there inn his arms, safe and sound.

The sun seeped into your vision through the leaves of the trees. You relaxed in Leona’s arms; his head on your chest taking his daily nap. He looked so peaceful, so at home, so beautiful. Little did you know that you lion lover was awake and he knew you were staring, for the single second that you blinked he has moved up to the nape of your neck and kissed it

“You enjoyed your view darling?”

Your hugs - Azul is someone who definitely needs a good hug from time to time(who doesn’t?) and for him your hugs bring him the most comforting feeling ever. It reassures him in ways words can’t. Words can be deceived (he’d know) your actions is what truly reveals your love for him; and your hugs show him how much your truly love him.

Azul was working in his office, seemingly caught in the world of assignments he almost missed the the fact your entered his office until he looked up. “Hello pearl, how are you?” “I’m doing good, how are you hon?” You walked up to him and walked behind him looking over his shoulder, observing the work he was up to. “Just working” he sighed, hou noticed him didn’t seem to be at his best currently so you did the first thing you thought might help, you gave him a warm loving hug and kissed him on the cheek. The blush on his face was evident and unstoppable.

“Thank you pearl, you always know how to make me feel better.”

Your smile - Even though he’s someone who has a smile bright enough to blind the sun, he thinks you have the sweetest smile in all of Twisted Wonderland. Every time your smile he smiles and he’d do anything to get you to smile, it’s his most prized treasure.

The two of you walked around together enjoying the architecture of Scarabia , just talking about random things until you two ended up talking about your home. You find yourself going on and on about everything you loved back home. And feeling that nostalgic feeling while talking about home just planted the biggest smile on your face. Kalim then abruptly spoke-

“Your so stunning when you smile”

Your eyes - You know how they say eyes are the window to the soul(or something of the sort), I think Vil believes that. And in you he sees this amazing person; someone who’s truly beautiful inside and out he finds it refreshing. He’s someone surrounded by fame and fortune and in the industry not everyone is a ray of sunshine. You are so caring and sweet; like a perfectly ripe apple.

He truly admires you.

Your thighs - They're so soft and warm. They bring him comfort when he lays his head in them; and when he’s gaming, you typically sit on his lap and when he gets frustrated he just takes a break to knead your things with his head buried in your neck.

The best way to relax is to simply be close to you.

Your cheeks - He finds them so adorable. He loved to just kiss/pinch/squish your cheeks. They’re so soft and cute. He thinks you're the cutest person ever, if he could he would lock you up forever and keep you to himself(he can’t because you might be sad). He especially loves the way your cheeks are when you laugh or smile (bonus points if you have dimples).

He do anything in this world to keep that joy on your face.

A/N: Happy New Years my darlings!! I wish you the best in 2024!! I will also do my best to upload most frequently since I love doing this<3

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

Octavinelle Masterlist

Scarabia Masterlist

Pomefiore Masterlist

Ignihyde Masterlist

Diasomnia Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

Grand Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader

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peetaslefttoe · 1 year

Text

@suzyshunshine

How about you do a Peeta smut where the reader are friends and hanging out one day. You start a conversation on how you’re friends are going out and it comes to the reader saying Oh nobody’s ever wanted to date me. He’s like that’s not true. Then the reader makes a list of they’re insecurities that to peeta are beautiful. Peeta confesses his feeling and then… the smut rolls around. Well that’s my idea!

warnings: smut, p in v, smut with feelings

summary: request above

author’s note: ahh i love this idea thank you sm

Masterlist Pinned xx

The sun beat down through the leaves, a cool summer breeze fluttered across the dry grass. You and Peeta lay side by side underneath a tree, it’s shade enveloping you, protecting you from the hot sunlight.

“I just don’t get how they all suddenly have boyfriends,” you continued, telling Peeta about your friends relationships.

“Literally, how is everyone dating someone?” Peeta added. You paused for a moment, the wind rustling the grass.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if I’m just meant to be alone forever,” you finally spoke, looking down at your boots.

“What do you mean?” Peeta turned to you.

“It’s just, no one’s ever wanted to date me,” I whispered. “I don’t know, i just don’t think I’m pretty enough for that kind of love,”

“That’s not true, Y/N!” Peeta said firmly.

“You don’t have to lie Peeta, my hair is all frizzy, my arms are chubby, my stomach is ugly, my boobs are small—,”

“Stop Y/N, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, I won’t stop until you see it too,” Peeta interrupted. “Your hair smells fresher than a field of roses, your arms are the most perfect of all, I wish you could hold me in them forever, your stomach is adorable and sexy, and your boobs, well darling, they’re gorgeous and i’ve only gotten a peek,” he continued, rambling on while looking into your eyes. You blushed furiously, looking down at your feet once more.

“Ah ah, eyes up here sweetheart,” he lifted your chin and pulled you to his lips. You melted into his touch, you felt as if you were floating, Your bestfriend and your first and only crush since the day you met him, was kissing you. You pulled back and looked into his deep brown eyes, smiling.

“I’ve loved you ever since I met you Peeta Mellark,” you beamed down at him. He smiled and pulled you back into a deep kiss, muttering words of love and praise into your mouth. His hands trailed across your back as he nibbled at you lips. You relaxed into his strong arms, breathing in his sweet scent. He reached for the hem of your shirt before pulling away from your raw lips.

“Can I? I want you to comfortable, if you are, I really want to show you how perfect you are sweet girl,” he looked up at you sincerely. You thought for a moment before nodding, your stomach doing flips with anticipation. He slowly lifted your top over your head, letting out a little gasp as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. He yanked his shirt off before pushing you onto your back and burying his face into your tits.

“Fuckin perfect, I could suck on you for hours, fuck-,” he groaned, grinding his hardening length down on your leg. You whimpered at his words, then grew louder when he latched onto your nipple, sucking and nipping at it furiously. He switched between nipples, kneading and nibbling your boobs. He only stopped his assault when you rutted up into him, your pussy throbbing.

“Needy girl, are we?” he teased, pressing a kiss to your lips. He kissed lightly down your stomach to the top of your pants.

“Wait!” you exclaimed, sitting up and pushing his hands from your belt.

“What’s wrong? We can stop, is everything okay?” he switched from dominating to gently in a second, holding your hand sweetly.

“It’s… just, it’s, you know, ugly…”

“What is?” Peeta looked at you with confusion.

“My… you know-,” you looked down at your pants.

“Oh darling, I know your sweet little pussy is beautiful, but if you want to stop we can,”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” you asked him.

“I promise,” he nodded firmly. You slowly pulled down your bottoms revealing your panties. You paused, looking at him.

“Do you want to take them off or me?” he asked gently.

“You please,” you whispered. He tucked his fingers into the lace and slowly dragged them down your legs and off onto the ground. He pulled your knees to the side, spreading your legs and exposing your pussy. You shut your eyes, preparing for the worst.

“Oh Y/N, you have nothing to worry about, fuck, i would eat you out right here for hours, your cum dripping down my face, if my cock wasn’t so fucking hard,” he groaned, kissing your clit roughly. You whined, thrusting into his face.

“Shh, stay still for a moment baby,” he reached down and shed his pants and underwear, his thick cock smacking his abs. He lifted your legs over his and pulled your hips into him. He slowly pushed his drippy tip into your tight hole. He whimpered loudly as your pussy clenched around him.

“Holy shit, you’re taking me so well, oh my god-,” he groaned, inching into you as you adjusted to his girth. He finally bottomed out with a whine of your name.

“Move please, please i need you to fuck me Peeta,” you moaned out, shifting in his grasp. He pulled out before slamming back into your soaked hole. The air was filled with the erotic sound of his length slipping in and out of your weeping hole. He reached a hand to your clit, rolling it in his callused fingers. His other hand grasp your hips bruisingly as he drilled into you.

“Fuck Peeta! I’m gonna-,” you felt a warmth fill your core as you shook violently on his cock. He whimpered shakily as your walls milked his cock and he filled you with spurts of thick cum. He erratically fucked you both through your highs before he collapsed on you. You cling to his sweaty back, your pussy sore and throbbing around his soft cock.

“I love you so much Y/N, you’re my girl, my beautiful, perfect, gorgeous girl,” Peeta murmured into your neck.

#peeta supremacy #the hunger games #peeta x reader #imagines #peeta mellark #smut #the hunger games peeta #fanfiction writer #i love peeta #thg peeta #peeta smut #peeta x reader smut

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reikamasama · 9 days

Text

𝙰 𝚂𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝙾𝚏 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 ? II

Pairing ; Hazbin Hotel X G/N Teen!Reader

Warnings ; implications of Abuse/Manipulation

Word count ; 5.9K

Summary ; You and Rosie are on an outing together, purchasing clothing and eat a meal together! Little did you know you were about to start a new chapter in your life.

⁀➷Prologue, ꕥ chapter I, ꕥ Chapter II

The grass excels a beautiful green color as it gently flows with the breeze, allowing it to pass through with multiple leaves and petals that have fallen from the mixed trees. The different trees sway softly as they sunbathe underneath the tropical sun. There’s a soft smell of grass and flowers that beams through the air.

The park is as empty as ever— not a sound can be heard. The flower gardens are overgrown and the benches are on their last leg, as vines have taken over the majority of them, painting them in the colors of nature; with the orange slowly but surely fading away.

Your eyes stare at the photo of Minori, Yuki, Rinku and you.. standing in this park on its dock with big smiles on your faces. You look so happy..

They look so happy.. you were at peace when you were with them.

You can still remember the scent from the picture, even if your only looking at it. You smile sadly at your phone, you miss them, you really do but your mother has restricted you from seeing them under the exam-season. Yes, you may have not obeyed that rule as you’ve been meeting them in secret, but it still pained you that you weren’t allowed to be with them.

According to your mother they were ‘bad influences’, due to them not being ‘study motivated’.

You have tried explaining to her that you did help them by tutoring them, she got very angry — or maybe annoyed was the right word? Either way she told you that it would stunt your own development if you needed to assist others all of the time instead of focusing on my own studies. Her claims were ludicrous, but she is your mother after all, and they.. do know best.

Your eyes scan the photo, it looks so cheerful, you were all doing silly little poses while smiling. The matching flowers you all decided to wear in your hair blends very well with the cherry blossom leaves falling in the background of the photo. The screen light is the only thing you can focus on right now, as the ends of your bittersweet smile can only grow.

That day was one of the best days in your life. You were able to clear your head, be away from your studies and you were able to be with your friends. It was an actual dream come true and you wanna go back to that moment.. maybe if you just space out you can relive that moment..

“[Name] what are you looking at, dear?”

Her smile is sweet, offering you your false sense of security like she always does. Or maybe it is real..?

You snap out of your day dreaming state, her voice fills the empty air as she speaks your name. Your vision blurs and you blink helping you regain your vision whilst putting your phone down — looking around.

You are standing in a darkened room, it’s filled with quiet whispers as they look at the different exhibits. Wait.. weren’t you just at home? When did you go to the art exhibit. You can’t seem to remember anything as your eyes fixate of your mother remembering her question.

“Ah, i was just looking at the time”

You pause before you continue,

“I know you allowed me to have a study free day so i could join you at this art exhibit, and i am thankful that you wish for me to broaden my creative mind! So i was only checking the time making sure we didn’t have to go home anytime soon!”

Lies, lies and more lies drip through your teeth, it’s like your whole life is built up on lies. Lies to please her, lies to please your mother. You feel your own body enter a dull state, slowly draining all your emotions like a puppet on a string, your eyes feel more dull, you can barely remember if you have blinked at all.. you force a smile as your eye twitches, luckily your mother didn’t notice.

“I’m glad you are enjoying your time here, honey! How about we take a look at that painting over there?”

She asks you; looking at you expectantly awaiting a response.

“Yes mother, let’s! It looks quite lovely from over here.”

Her face turned into a pleased expression clasping her hands together as she begins to make her way towards the painting. You follow — having your hands intertwined as they sit in front of you. You keep a steady pace as you follow her, hearing a tap with every step you take. You swiftly make your way to a small crowd of people admiring the displayed painting.

You squish yourself into the crowd surrounding the painting. It reeked of perfume, it made your nose scrunch up as you felt the different fragrances collide creating that horrid stench. You look to your right — eyeing your mother before you follow her gaze letting yours land on the painting. It is a very strange piece.? It has a few lines and circles drawn on it. It barely had any variation with shapes or colors, it was a simple painting only using different shades of greens and blues. How do people enjoy this so called ‘art’? It feels empty, there’s no thought or emotion put into that thing.. there’s no message the art is trying to forward, there’s no eye catching features, it’s a whole lot of nothing. At least from what you can tell.

You grow restless.. the painting goes from boring to ugly, you don’t want to see it anymore, no. You want to leave.. standing in the crowd makes you feel nervous, it feels as if a pair of eyes are always on you, the feeling haunts you and sends a shiver down your spine. Despite this spacious room and the fact it’s not filled to the brim with people you still fear that you are being watched, making you feel a need to make no mistake. Make no mistake. You can’t make a mistake. Ever. Never ever. Why is the room so wide.. why is it so dark, why is it so cold..?

You exhale quietly and you swore you were able to see a little cloud form in front of your face due to the chilly air. A voice snaps you out of your strange day dreaming state once again.

“Dear this piece has such value doesn’t it?”

God, you really gotta stop doing this. Your neck snaps towards your mother’s direction, a forced smile stays plastered on your face.

“Yes of course, i liked its creative aspects quite a lot.”

Lies, come on just speak the truth!

“Are you ready to move onto the next piece?”

Yes, you don’t want to be here: you wish for her to let you go home.

“Yes mother!”

You escape the rich scent making your way out of the crowd.

Clack. That sound echoed though the venue as the picture perfect mother and child makes their way to another painting, this one only had a few people admiring it and you mentally relaxed ever so slightly — knowing it won’t have that rich people scent all over the place. Your mother and you finally reach the painting, your eyes land on the colorful canvas and it reminds you of something.

The painting resembles a beautiful flower that’s placed inside of a vase, that is on a cozy wooden table. The flower in itself struck you with such a spesific feeling, like something you’ve seen before. It has such gradient colors and this is something that pulls you in. You could tell that the artist has put their heart and soul into this and there is definitely some kind of message that you might not be able to decipher — but you knew that this painting was something special.. Wait a minute..

It’s as if a puzzle has been solved inside of your brain, a certain piece of said puzzle that has been misplaced finally finds its place. This flower is recognizable due to it being the same flower you and your friends were wearing in the picture! You feel a strange wave of happiness sending throughout your body, you feel like you’re back in control it’s you now, it’s really you. Like the strings have been lifted but you lifted them on your own.

“Oh my god, [Name]? I never knew you were into art, what are you doing here!”

Arms wrap around your shoulders as you hear a chuckle, they spin you around only to lock you in a hug. Your eyes lay upon the figure who’s hugging you, it was the one and only Yuki. She normally isn’t this affectionate, but it’s probably due to the fact you haven’t been able to meet her a lot recently.

“Oh, dear is this a friend of yours?”

You freeze in Yuki’s grip feeling her arms gently let go of you, freeing you from her warm embrace. You don’t want her to meet her, what if she.. disapproved.?

“Yes mother, this is Yuki!”

You pause before you stand in the middle of the two your eyes mostly staying on your mothers.

Her snake eyes — eye Yuki up and down with a judgmental look before her face softens up and she smiles calmly.

“Hello there Yuki, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

⋇⊶⊰ n o ⊱⊷⋇

Your body leans against the oddly comfortable mattress in your newfound room. You had been in Rosie’s care for a few weeks now and you have grown quite fond of her. Rosie has always been such a darling to you, prioritizing your needs over her own. She has helped guide you throughout hell and there’s quite a lot you had to learn.

You made sure to jot down the most important parts in a notebook, just in case. Your fingers trace alongside the surface of the notebook, it had a black cover with a rose on it. Allowing your thumb to fall on the cover of the notebook, opening it.

The first page has the headline ‘Important’ on it. The handwriting was a very readable one, something your mother had taught you from an early age

“Having a presentable writing style will make you stand out above the rest and bring you more job opportunities”

Gosh, you really need to stop thinking about her, she isn’t here anymore. She isn’t here. Is she? You are your own dependent person now, heck Rosie is more of a mother than she ever will be. Your strings have been cut and you are no longer her puppet.

You’re grateful for having Rosie take care of you, really. But the freedom hell was able to provide you was an overwhelming sensation to say the least.

Before you fell down to hell your mother controlled your whole life, from your clothes to the actions you made, it was all things she controlled on your never ending stage.

It was like you were acting in a one man show — creating the most pleasing stage performance to the person you were supposed to love and trust the most.

You were tired, really really tired and you had never taken a notice to this until you got an actual good nights rest your first few days here with Rosie. You were forced to be in bed rest by Rosie, and she was not taking no for an answer. She has brought you meals, decorative items for your room and went to you just to chat about her emporium and other gossip. You listened to her rants, her voice had such emotion, emotion your mother never was able to give you. Rosie and you also had had conversations about the pain in your throat, she made sure to bring you all sorts of foods and drinks trying to help you get better, and within these few weeks it was like you were building up a kind of ‘talk tolerance’. You were now able to hold multiple conversations before your throat gives you the sensation of that sharp pain you felt once you first meet Rosie.

Speaking of Rosie, she wished for you to join her for an outing today.

You weren’t quite sure what the outing was for but you knew she was going to bring you outside of cannibal town, that in itself is a rare occasion. You swing yourself off of the bed letting your feet land on the floor with a quiet ‘thud’. You stand up and stretch, raising your arms towards the ceiling as you let out a yawn, stretching your sore muscles. You let out a satisfied exhale as you walking over to your drawer hearing a creek sound coming from the creaky wooden floors with each step you take.

You slip on some clothing that Rosie has been lending you over these past weeks, they might have been a tad big on you, you didn’t mind though. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring your demon features before you fix your hair making you look presentable. You slip on some shoes before you reach out for the golden knob on the vintage themed door.

Your eyes look back to glance on the room once last time before you leave, making sure to hadn’t forgotten anything, not that you had much to leave anyway..

Once you confirm that there’s nothing you’re leaving behind you twist the doorknob and exit the room.

You make your way though the darkened hallway, it’s only light being provided by a little lamp at the end of the hallway. Your fingers trace along the cold wall as you walk to the end of the hallway. You really liked the vintage theme to the whole town, it’s just like the history books you used to read and it makes you feel welcome, you used to have a modern home back on earth so this was a nice change of pace. Your feet clack whilst making contact with the wooden flooring, your footsteps are the only thing that can be heard down the echoey hallway, you steadily reach the wooden stairs. Your hand reaches to hold the un-even railing of the staircase as you begin walking down it, carefully letting your hand slide down the railing to make sure you don’t get any splinters. You stumble when you’re at the bottom step and clumsily make an entrance to the emporium.

You quickly straighten your backs and brush of imaginary dust off of your clothing, wishing to the seven rings of hell Rosie did not see your little mishap. Your eyes scan the area landing on Rosie standing behind the emporiums counter, you feel warm upon seeing her little smile as she counts money, it seems that her shop has been doing very well today! You feel a smile grow on your face as your legs gravitate towards the counter, step after step you slowly get closer to Rosie with your quiet footsteps tapping on the stone like floor. Rosie seemingly was stuck in her own world as you reached the counter and stood behind it, not sure if she was able to sense your presence. You were about to clear your throat to catch her attention but her voice interrupted your actions;

“Ah, [Name] you have finally arrived, you know keeping a lady waiting is very rude now— oh I’m just kidding no need to break a sweat over this dear!”

She chuckles at her own ranting before she places the money back in the register, her fingers fiddles with a stubborn lock and you decide it’s a good time to ask her what you are even going to do.

“So, Rosie. You have never taken the time to explain what exactly this outing is for?”

You say this wearing a normal expression, but your voice gives you away as it sounds more confused if anything.

Rosie lights up ever so slightly at the mention of the outing as she clasps her hands together,

“Well my dear [Name], we both know that you have been borrowing a lot my stuff since you have arrived here,”

She pauses wich leaves room for you to input an apology.

“Yes about that I’m sorry Rosie—“

“No no! I do not mind at all, after all if i didn’t wish for you to borrow my things i wouldn’t have permitted you to use them.”

You knew arguing with Rosie about this wouldn’t lead anywhere, she was a stubborn lady who stood her ground, you respected that and honestly kind of envied it. It’s something you were never able to do, stand up to yourself.

Rosie places a hand on her hip as she continues with a soft look on her face.

“Well the reason for this outing today is that we are going to purchase you new clothing! I believe you would like to wear other clothing than what you are borrowing from me at the moment, hm?”

You have never really thought of it before, you were used to your mother purchasing all of your clothes so getting to borrow some from Rosie was nothing too different. Rosie’s clothing may have been a bit too oversized on you but it was nothing that hindered you, from work or anything of the sorts but you have been a bit interested in the world of clothing, maybe this is a way you’ll be able to express yourself! Maybe a new start? You like the sound of that, the sound of you becoming your own person.

“While i don’t mind wearing this, they are quite comfy after all! It would be nice with something that’s a little more.. me.?”

The end of the sentence trails off feeling like you’re having a hard time choosing the right wording.

She chuckles and lets one of her hands fall onto your shoulder, patting it before making her way to the front of the counter. Your hands fold as you let them rest in front of you.

“Shall we?”

Rosie says, offering you a toothy smile as you nod. The two of you make your way to exit the emporium.

⋇⊶⊰ s t u c k ⊱⊷⋇

The sound of you and Rosie’s footsteps straddling along the sidewalk can barley be heard as demons outside of cannibal town seem to be more indecent, loud fights and conversations followed along with blasting TV’s follow trough out the streets of the pride ring. Your eyes dart around the overwhelming streets. You feel rather tense, staying on guard with each step you take. With every passing second your muscles become more sore as you feel uncomfortable.

You never knew what to expect from hell.. but this was exactly like Rosie explained it — if not even worse..

You feel a slender hand find its way on the small of your back as it makes you stop in your tracks and urge you in a direction to a certain store. Your head swiftly turn only to see Rosie standing there with her normal grinning self looking down at you giving you a reassuring smile. Your head turns to the direction she is urging you in. It was a tailor store, and it was also the only eye catching store on the street as it was the only store that hadn’t been completely torn.. You hesitate before reaching your hand out to the handle. your fingers slowly grip around the oddly long handle.. huh its strangely cold for something that’s in hell. You inhale deeply trying to shake off the odd feeling you’ve got brewing inside of you.

The inside of the shop has a very cozy feeling, it has very fitting colors that reminds you of the Victorian era. There’s very over-the-top fancy decors on both furniture and clothing with golden accents. Your eyes dart around the store landing on different mannequins dressed in all sorts of clothing, from frilly to pointy, casual to formal — there’s a bit of everything in here.

“Oh this shop has always had such a nice feeling to it, maybe i should ask them to be a part of cannibal town! Haha”

Rosie laughs at her little comment before her eyes dart to you,

“So dear, what do you think? Where would you like to start?”

Her question makes you stop in your tracks, she’s right, where should you start? You could start with shirts? Maybe pants? Maybe accessories — ugh.. this is gonna be harder than you expected.. you consider your options

“How about we take a stroll around the shop? And see if i find something eye catching along the way?”

She agrees with you as she follows you around the store.

You have a hard time at first, it was difficult learning how to figure out your likes and dislikes. You feel different pieces have different textures and colors, you now have an understanding for your mother who took a long time in stores like these — it was a struggle picking out outfits that would look nice together.

It takes you a second but you start warming up a little after Rosie points out a few articles of clothing here and there and not long after, you’ve managed to fill a bag of clothes. You feel proud of yourself, it’s your beginning to the new you. The clothing you’ve picked out is very different from what your mom used to choose for you. You were always told as a kid that you were dressing in such an ‘adult’ like-way, little did they know it was cause you never were allowed to choose clothing of your own.

You take a quick look through the bag feeling that you’ve picked out enough clothing to fill out your wardrobe. Rosie was hesitating — feeling that you could pick out even more but she decided to sneak in a few more pieces just to help you out a little.

When you told Rosie you felt finished with your shopping the two of you went to the fitting rooms.

You feel the soft fabric of the curtain against your fingers as you open it with a bit of force. Rosie hands you the bag she’s been carrying all of this time and you let out a quick ‘thank you’ before closing the velvet curtain allowing you to change.

There’s multiple mirrors in the dressing room and it feels so strange being able to see yourself from different angles all at once. You gently place the bag on the floor with a little ‘plop’ before you bend down picking up different pairs of shirts and trousers gently placing them on the little black wooden stool inside of the dressing room. You undress yourself, starting with your shirt, then the rest. You get kind of distracted being able to see yourself in the mirror in such a state, yes you’ve seen your full demon form before but it still strikes you as odd no matter how many times you see yourself. Your hands hover over the shirts before you find one that sticks out amongst the rest as you pick it up. You raise your arms sliding your hands and head trough the holes of the shirts, and as its on you adjust the shirt smoothing out any wrinkles you can find. You smile to yourself, the shirt has a very soft color and it has a few frills adding some volume to it. Now all you needed were a pair of trousers, you find a pair that you see fit with the shirt and slide them on, you can feel the soft texture of the trousers and it is very comfortable.

You admire the outfit you’ve put on in the mirror, it really suits you and you feel it brings out a whole new side from you. Huh i guess, ‘clothes makes the sinner’ really is true!

“I’m done!”

You say in a louder tone, a tone audible enough for Rosie to hear but not close to make anybody else believe you’re an obnoxiously loud asshole.

Your voice tells Rosie that you’re done and her face turns to the silky curtains you’re hiding behind, looking expectantly at it. Your hands grab onto the velvet curtains struggling once again to slide the curtain open, but as it slides open you take a step out of the dressing room, resting your hands clasped together in front of you like you usually do. You were expecting a reaction from Rosie but you were certainly never expecting her to start clapping to the outfit you’ve put together.

“My, this is definitely better than i expected! It fits you so well, dear!”

She coos followed along by a chuckle;

“Go on now, don’t just stand there! Give me a little spin!”

You do just that, lifting the weight off of your feet as you give Rosie a gentle spin showing her your whole outfit.

She keeps on complimenting you and your outfit making you feel embarrassed as your cheeks grow warm.

“Aha.. thank you Rosie, I’m glad you like it.”

Your words were short but your voice sounded sincere, you are not used to all this attention she’s giving you.. but you have got to admit that it feels nice.

“Here dear, try this hat on I’m sure it will add to your look quite a lot!~”

She gives you a playful wink, followed by her hands reaching out for your head, gently placing the hat on you. Your head turns to look into one of the mirrors in the dressing room. You felt a bubbly feeling inside of your chest, you just felt so happy.. you looked so pretty — and it’s all thanks to Rosie letting you be, well you! You smile feeling a little tear build up, but you softly rub your eye and turn back to Rosie with a smile, an authentic smile.

“Thank you Rosie!”

You chuckle along side with her as she pats you on the back;

“Of course dear, you look lovely!”

Her hands move from your back to your shoulders before she urges you into the changing room once again, she lets go of your shoulders once you’re in the room and grabs onto the curtain.

“Try on those other outfits now! We don’t got all day i still have a few things planned for us!”

You felt very confident after the interaction. Rosie has been nothing but supportive and that doesn’t change as you try on the different outfits. She praises them one by one and it was strange.. you don’t remember placing some articles of clothing in the bag? Oh well, it worked out in any case so that’s fine. When you were done with the little ‘shopping spree’ you felt famished and Rosie suggested that the two of you headed to a restaurant that she had been eyeing for a while, you trusted in her style and the two of you made the way to a restaurants. It was a very classy restaurant and multiple sinners where there, sinners with more money and have a higher status in hell. You may not really be important to hell but you are in important company. You believe you recognize multiple of the sinners there. At one of the tables you believe that Carmilla sits there along side with her daughters, on another table across the restaurant your able to see the Vees— their loud and obnoxious well at least Vox and Valentino is Velvette couldn’t care less it seemed. A sinner came up to you and Rosie bringing the two of you to a table that’s placed far away from Carmilla and the Vees.

The table presented in front of you seems to be in a more secluded area as multiple tables were empty. You thanked Lucifer for being in a less crowded space. You feel your tense shoulders soften up and only then you realized how truly tense you have been this whole outing. You exhale quietly before pulling out the chair that’s presented before you, it is a very.. normal chair, nothing special like you thought this place would be since Rosie seems to prefer class. You sit down onto the not-so-soft chair.

“You seem to have finally relaxed dearie, did you not enjoy your free shopping spree?”

She says that with a smug expression on her face as she sits down and crosses her leg over the other.

You feel a bit panicked — swiftly trying to explain yourself,

“No that’s not it at all Rosie! I appreciate your help! Hell is just — hell you know..!”

You chuckle quietly at your own pun as Rosie chuckles alongside you.

“Well i certainly can’t blame you for that, in any case dear welcome to one of my favorite restaurants in hell! Now i do prefer.. meatier meats, i assumed you were not into trying that yet, am i right?”

You nod not really saying anything, and after a second or so a waiter comes up to the table in a strangely good timing. You look at the waiter and they look tired, like they hate their job — you expect to hear a tired annoyed voice as they speak;

“What would you like Miss Rosie and..?”

“Mx. [Name] is fine!”

Their voice was strangely happy as they handed out the menu’s,

“So, what would the two of you like? Or shall i circle back later to take your order?”

You pick up the menu to scroll trough it quickly, there was a lot of options with really fancy names that honestly were hard to read.. but you did regonize some of the desserts.. ‘cheesecake’ ‘Velvette cake’ ‘cupcake’ ‘angel food cake’ hmm.. there is a lot of cake in here— wait! Angel food cake? Sign me up! You softly place down the menu noticing how both Rosie and the waiter was starring at you rather intensely and it made you feel nervous, so you stutter as you speak;

“I..l have the angel food.. cake.” You pause;

“Please.”

Rosie smiles and looks to the waiter,

“well you heard the little darling, one angel food cake, and double it!”

The waiter scribbles in their little notebook with their tired face looking more lively now.

“And what would you like to drink”

You felt the day has been kind of tiering, so a simple water couldn’t do you any harm.

“Just some water..”

The waiter nods and glances at Rosie whom just nods quietly telling the waiter she was going to order the same as you. The waiter quickly scribbles on the notebook before taking their leave the two of you to chit-chat.

Your eyes wander around the restaurant not specifically looking at anything in particular. Time feels — awfully slow for some reason, tick, tock ,tick ,tock.. the clock clouds your brain.

Its ticking reminds you of the late study sessions, the smell of your room. The god awful smell of cleaning products.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The day of you dying came back to you. The moments pretending to spare your mother only to murder her in cold blood. You remember her face, it was an expression you had never seen from her before - but you knew it all to well.

It was an expression you had worn multiple times before, she had made you feel so small.. so little, she got what she deserved .. right? Right. Im sure you’re just being dramatic, she never did you any good! She only feed you, bought you clothes, gave you a roof over your head she even made you meals…. all you had to do was study… no, no that’s not true stop!

“[Name] dear, you’re spacing out again, what are you doing in that little brain of yours hm?”

Your eyes flutter in confusion, your nose has now been filled with the scent of angel food cake, your pupils darted to the plate of dessert in front of you, it looked just like it did back on earth. Your eyes darted to look at Rosie’s and her expression is difficult to read, that’s Strange your normally swell at reading emotions.

“Sorry,”

Your voice sounded quiet and you raised it to a normal speaking volume;

“What were you saying Rosie?”

The lady chuckled at you before lifting a little fork in her hand taking a bit of the angel foodcake before placing it in her mouth, quickly swallowing it as she answers your question.

“Well pay attention now, for what I’m about to say is important.”

You nod at her statement letting your eyes remain on the gray ladies pupils as you pick up the silverware in your hand, the fork is small and you slice off a bit from your dessert parting your lips as you try the delectable dessert. The flavor beams through your mouth, it’s a bit too sweet for your taste but it makes you happy. You happily listen to Rosie as you chew on the little treat.

“It has been a lovely time to have you around the emporium, and you have brought me a good business I’ll tell ya that! But i believe it’s time..”

She pauses — you presume it’s for dramatic effect as you keep eating pieces of the angel food cake.

“..for you to go to the hazbin hotel.”

You choke on your dessert a little, your hand reaches out for the water as you quickly pour the liquid down your throat, to wash the stuck piece away. What did she just say. The hazbin hotel? The one she has spoken about before? Redemption? you? — hah no way!

You have stopped eating now and the little fork you used to hold in your hand has now fallen onto the plate, you don’t react through. Your expression is so confused, scared, surprised a whole package deal.

“Now dear, calm down you’ll be allowed to visit me anytime! I just believe you shouldn’t be stuck in hell for eternity, sure! You fucked up.. yeah you may be flawed, but i can tell that you’re a good kid, [Name].

“Even if i don’t believe in redemption, go prove me wrong with that strong will of yours!”

..does she actually mean that, does she believe you can be redeemed? You killed someone, but she still believes in you.. you take a deep breath — inhale, exhale.

“Are you.. are you sure.. i mean I’m not doubting you I’m just— what if they won’t accept me there..?”

Your voice struggles with the sentence you’re not sure what to say.. it all just feels like a big decision to make on a whim. Your hands fiddle with anything they can get their hands on and Rosie smiles sadly at you whilst your eyes dart down to look at your hands.

“I’m sure you will dear, and if anything and i mean anything bothers you, the emporium will always be open.”

Her words were calm, comforting even — but now her words weight on you. You want to do your best for Rosie.. but can you?

—

Of course you can.

Your [Name] after all.

⋇⊶⊰ y o u ? ⊱⊷⋇

You wave a nervous hand to Rosie before you turn a 180, allowing you to get a good view at the hotel. It is huge but has a very.. strange appearance, also it’s located on the side of the town isolated from everything else— that’s one of the weirdest things ever! You can feel your heart raising as you being walking up to the hotel, one step after another.

When you are stood at the door you take some deep breaths, come on! You have got this [Name]! You hesitantly reach your hand out to the handle before gently opening the door.

⋇⊶⊰ E N D ⊱⊷⋇

Sheesh, this was a long one! The author apologizes for the delay on the chapter and would like to say that he will publish chapters around every 2 weeks! He tries his best and nitpicks a lot on his story wich can delay the writing! He would also like me to inform that there’s now a tag list, so if you are interested please go ahead and tell us in the comments!

That’s all I’ve got to say for now, so i hope everyone enjoyed this story-telling session and i hope to see everyone back for more next time! Bye-bye now!

(Thanks everyone for the support on the recent 2 parts of this series, it makes me so happy to see people enjoy reading it and the reblogs has brought big smiles to my face! Thank you everybody sm<3)

~ Tags for reach ~

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin #x nb reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin x reader #x nb Reader #alastor x reader #husker x reader #angeldust x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #vaggie #niffty

72 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 1 year

Note

I saw this YT short and I immediately thought of Aemond and Y/n! Here is the link to the short https://youtube.com/shorts/QLLwExDgSDg?feature=share

Could you write something like this with Aemond and Y/n. Maybe enemies to lovers. 😚

The bane of my existence - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Thank you, Anon, for this great request! I hope you like it (: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 4.4 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You run through the keep. You are out of breath. You gasp, but you keep running. Your chest burns with every breath, but you keep running.

You are angry.

You were brought here... by your father! You should have been suspicious the moment he said you were going to the capital. But it wasn't until you were here that you were told you would meet your betrothed. You were not told who he was. Not that you wanted to hear it.

You feel betrayed. By your family, especially your father. You never thought he would send you away from your home in the north so easily. And yet here you are, in King's Landing. Breathing heavily, your chest aching, you run through the keep.

You just want to get out of here. Leave the keep, somehow get to the harbour and board a ship.

Just get out of here.

You step out of the keep and look around. The sun is slowly setting. You glance at the gate, but it is closed and looks well guarded. You won't be able to escape easily.

You sigh, turn around and go back into the keep. You have to find another way. Then your gaze falls on the adjacent gardens. You remember, when you walked through the gardens during the day, that in some places the walls were not so high.

You continue on your way more quickly. You hurry into the gardens and look for the place with the low wall. There are no more ladies in the garden, they all seem to be at dinner. You walk past trees and freshly scented hedges and in a corner you see the wall.

"Oh no..." you gasp.

The wall was higher than you thought. But you still want to try. Desperately you try to climb up the wall. But you keep slipping down. After a while your fingers hurt and they are dirty, just like your dress. And your hair has become a wild mess.

But you have to get out of here.

Suddenly you hear a clearing of the throat behind you.

You turn around, startled.

Prince Aemond is standing there. The most arrogant prince you have ever heard of. A pure pompous ass.

"Prince Aemond," you say with mock delight.

He nods slightly at you, "Lady y/n"

You stand in front of him, somehow the atmosphere is awkward. You look down your body and see how sore and dirty your hands look. Your dress is ruined.

You clasp your hands behind your back to hide how dirty they are. You look up and think you see a slight smile on his lips.

"So you're trying to climb over the wall?" he asks finally.

"Yes it seems so," you clear your throat slightly.

Annoyed, you turn away from him. You can't let him distract you.

You look over your shoulder, straight into his face, "Prince Aemond, help me please"

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, "I guess not"

You sigh in annoyance, "You can get your hands dirty for once and help a lady in need"

He smiles again, "A lady in need? I don't think a lady who can't manage to climb over a wall should be out in the world on her own"

You scowl at him but nod anyway, "I don't care what you think though. I have to get out of here"

He looks around for a moment, "And why does the lady in distress have to go at all? I don't see anything that indicates danger"

You roll your eyes, "Are you going to keep on babbling or are you going to help me now?"

He just looks at you, "Will you tell me what you are running from?"

You are annoyed but you realise that he wouldn't help you otherwise, "Okay. I just found out I'm supposed to meet my betrothed here. And I won't let them do that to me"

Suddenly guards appear in your field of vision. They call out to you, "Lady y/n, your father is looking for you"

They slowly approach you.

You look at Aemond almost pleadingly now, "Prince Aemond. Please. Help me"

But he smiles at you, "I think I can't do that, unfortunately. I can't help my betrothed to escape, can I? Then who should I wed?"

You gasp and look at him, startled, wide-eyed. And his smile does not disappear.

You will be taken to your father's chambers. Your anger has only increased. Aemond knew you were his betrothed. And allowed you to behave like a fool in front of him. You are ashamed. You feel so foolish.

Your father comes in, he looks at you seriously, "You wanted to escape?" he asks, horrified.

"I told you I wouldn't put up with it"

You are angry.

"Where were you going? Something could have happened to you!"

You just shake your head, "Don't be silly. I'm good at defending myself"

Now he shakes his head, "You'll have to get wed someday"

You snort, "I will... A lord from the north! That's what you promised me! Now I'll stay here in the capital... You sold me to the Targaryens! I have to wed that pompous Aemond"

He nods slowly, " You already know..?"

You still look mad, "He told me personally"

He continues to nod and slowly walks towards you. He takes your hands in his, "My girl... I would have liked to tell you myself..."

You look to the side, tears welling up in your eyes.

"... I promise you that you will be fine here..."

"I will have to wed an arrogant ass!" you interrupt him.

"You shouldn't call your future husband that. You will be a princess"

You look at him again, "I never asked for that"

It was decided, you will stay in the capital and you will marry Prince Aemond.

You and Aemond discuss often. But not in a good way. You start arguing about even the smallest detail. His presence annoys you to no end. You are curious to see how harmonious this marriage will be.

Sometimes, at dinner, when you are wildly arguing again, you take Aegon's side. Just to annoy Aemond. You like to see him press his lips together in anger when you agree with Aegon about something that is obviously not true. Or how his nostrils flare when you laugh at one of Aegon's stupid jokes. However, it is best to agree with Aegon on something and you both annoy Aemond with further comments. Preferably with comments about how stiff and uptight Aemond is. Then Aemond will throw his hair back over his shoulder and look at the ceiling, just so he doesn't have to look at you.

You hardly ever agree with Aegon. By the seven hells, no! But you enjoy teasing Aemond like that.

Other times you like to contradict Aemond when he tells you about good books worth reading. That's what makes him most angry. Then he doesn't just press his lips together or quiver his nostrils or throw his hair over his shoulder, no. He then does everything almost simultaneously and storms off. You are left grinning.

But Aemond, on the other hand, annoys you in a different way. He does not contradict you on any opinions. In fact, he is interested in what you think about different things. He also doesn't ally with Aegon to annoy you. He does it differently.

The one time he was able to convince his mother, Queen Alicent, that you should definitely have the latest clothes shown to you. The latest dresses, made from the latest fabrics and cuts. That's what the ladies like to do. After all, you're still wearing the clothes of the North and you need some new ones.

Alicent thought it was an excellent idea and when she suggested it to you, you knew at once who had got you into it. You wanted to kill Aemond. With your bare hands. Perhaps just strangle him. You hate looking at new clothes. Sitting around listening to gossip and looking at clothes. And now you've had to sit there and have clothes shown to you. The whole day was spent like that. A whole day of your life was wasted on that. You just nodded a lot and tried to smile kindly. Fortunately, the wine was good.

Another time Aemond was able to convince Helaena that you like to cuddle with spiders. He talked her into it until she was convinced that it would be a good idea to collect spiders in the garden to put in your bed. After all, she wants you to feel comfortable here.

Helaena likes you.

When you came into your chambers after a day of wild discussions with Aemond and just wanted to lie down in your bed, you almost had a heart attack.

As you stood in front of your bed and threw back the covers, everything moved. Things were crawling wildly. Small and large black spots crawled wildly across your mattress. You screamed out. Your scream was so brutal that it almost shook the keep. Guards immediately came running into your chambers. You immediately stepped away from your bed in fear. Looking towards the guards, you saw Aemond standing in the room with you, smiling cheekily. You gave him an angry look. But before you could say anything, Queen Alicent had already rushed into your chambers.

"What's going on here??" she asked, startled.

When she saw all the spiders around your bed, she also cried out briefly.

"Prince Aemond thought it would be fun to fill my bed with spiders," you said, giving Aemond a nasty look.

"I didn't do that at all," he hissed back.

"Oh come on! Who else would do something so vile?" you snorted.

"Princess Helaena thought…", but Alicent interrupted him.

"Stop it!", Alicent paced.

"It's late and we all want to sleep! Aemond! I am disappointed in you! Why do you frighten your betrothed like that? It's not a nice way to do that!"

Aemond just looks down at the ground, like a little boy who has just been reprimanded. He nodded slowly. You smiled.

When he looked up briefly, you stuck your tongue out at him. He looked away.

The end of the story was that Aemond first had to help the guards catch and dispose of the spiders and then sleep on your sofa. While you were allowed to sleep in his bed.

You were taken to his chambers and just wanted to lie down. You were already tired and the spider incident had not made it any better. You lay down in his bed and that's when you noticed him for the first time. His scent. His scent was somehow pleasant. It was a mixture of soap... Soap and... Lavender perhaps? You would never have admitted it, but you had closed your eyes and pressed your face into the pillow a little.

When you opened your eyes, you saw something lying next to you in the bed. It was one of his vests. You couldn't resist, you had to touch it. It was very soft and you had to smile slightly. And it also smelled like him.

Tonight you would sleep very well.

Aemond, on the other hand, was angry.He had to listen to his mother tell him how disappointed she was in him. He had to sleep on your little sofa because you were afraid that there might still be spiders in your chambers. He didn't sleep well and was awake before the first rays of sunlight fell through the windows. He walked slowly through your chambers. He saw some clothes hanging on your wardrobe. Dresses that were more in keeping with the southern fashion style. He had to smile slightly at the thought of you looking at dresses with his mother and actually having some made for you.

He continued walking and stopped at a table. There were books on it. Curious, he looked at them. These were books he recommended you to read. Of course, you did everything you could to talk down his suggestions, but now these books were in your chambers. He smiled slightly again.

When the sun came up, he wanted to go back to his chambers. He opened the door to your chambers and your handmaiden was standing there. She was startled to see Prince Aemond in your chambers.

"My prince! Excuse me, I wanted to wake Lady y/n..."

He just looked at her, but a smile played around his lips.

"Wake Lady y/n? Don't bother, I'll go wake her"

He went to his chambers.

Quietly he opened the door and closed it again. Just as quietly, he walked through his chambers. The curtains were drawn, but he saw you fully.

Standing before his bed, he simply looked at you. You were sleeping peacefully. Your hair was wildly spread on his pillow and your face was pressed into it. When he moved even closer, he saw that you were holding something in your hands. He looked more closely. You were clutching his vest. You held it tightly in your arms. He had to smile again that morning. A big smile played around his lips. He would have liked to have this sight captured in a painting.

You were breathing quietly and he briefly considered lying down to perhaps get a few more hours of sleep as well. But he decided against it.

"My lady," he said in a soft but firm voice.

You slowly opened your eyes. Aemond's scent immediately rose to your nose. You were not quite awake yet and you started to smile as if by yourself. When you realised in which bed you had been lying and what you had woken up from in the first place.

You looked at the end of the bed. Aemond was standing there.

You made an annoyed noise and closed your eyes again.

"What are you doing here?" you asked him.

You heard the smile in his voice, "My Lady... A beautiful day is dawning and I must ask you to leave my bed. And, if possible, to leave my vest here"

You gave him a startled look and then looked down at your hands.

You had a firm grip on his vest. You let go of it immediately.

"You could have just pressed your face further into the pillow. I'm sure it smells like me too," he smiled at you.

You looked caught out, but quickly regained your composure, "Yes! Indeed it does! After conceited prince ass!"

Just as Aemond was about to turn around, grinning, something hit him in the back of the head. He turned to you, stunned, and then looked at the floor where his pillow now lay.

You got up from the bed and walked past him.

"It's terrible to sleep in your bed"

With these words you left his chambers after you had put on your night robe.

A few days later you are standing in the training yard. You are practising your swordplay. You stand there alone, trying to move your feet gently and quickly. Your eyes are closed. You want to concentrate fully on your movements, but you keep getting distracted. Aemond fills your thoughts.

Suddenly the clang of steel is heard. Your movement stops and your eyes open immediately. Aemond stands before you, crossing swords with you. He grins at you and you draw back your sword.

"What, afraid to fight me?" he continues to grin.

You want to smack the grin off his face.

You snort, " What you wish for!"

He smirks, "Do you really want to know what I wish for?"

You don't hesitate for long and take a swing. Aemond is surprised, but blocks your blow. Steel clashes again. He wouldn't admit it, but he is impressed by your fighting style. Your footwork is good and you never neglect your defence.

But at one moment he neglects his defence. Your cleavage distracts him for a moment.

He doesn't mean to, but for a second he's not paying attention and at that moment you kick his legs away.

He lands on his sweet prince ass.

You grin at him triumphantly, "Who should be afraid?" you ask him.

You turn to leave, but you are stopped. Aemond pulls your legs away. You did not expect this, you are lying next to him in the dirt.

You roll your eyes, "Wow... Aemond… really? You can't bear to lose and attack from ambush? Very noble"

His eyes sparkle, "Or... You deliberately distracted me with your feminine charms...? That came from ambush"

You shake your head angrily, "Oh leave me alone!"

You stand up and walk towards the keep. You try to clean the dirt off your skirt as you walk.

Aemond follows you. He calls your name a few times, but you ignore him. He is annoying you.

You go into your chambers and he just follows you.

You stand in the middle of your chambers, looking at each other.

"What's your problem now?" he hisses, breathing heavily.

"I hate your arrogant ways! Can't you just admit that I was better once?" you are angry.

He returns your angry look. But before you can say anything again, his lips are suddenly on yours. You are startled, but his scent suddenly enveloped your senses and your hands landed on his firm chest.

The kiss deepens and your hands slide up his neck. You let your hands disappear into his soft hair, pulling him closer to you. Now he hesitates briefly, but gives in to your closeness. Wild kisses follow and he puts his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You push him gently backwards, towards your bed. He lets himself be pushed backwards. You gasp when he suddenly kisses your neck. His hand slides to your breast, grips it tightly. You whimper.

Your hands are still in his soft hair, you tug lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck, he groans in response.

Suddenly he spins you around, your back is pressed against his chest. You feel his distinct arousal against your ass. You breathe heavily. You feel his lips sliding along your ear. Down your neck to your nape. His lips leave soft kisses there.

Slowly he opens your dress. It slowly slides down your body and lands at your feet. A light, fresh breeze envelops you immediately. Your nipples harden. His kisses don't let up as his hands move to your breasts again, lightly squeezing your nipples. You whimper again and press yourself further against him.

You feel his grin on your soft skin.

One hand slowly moves down your belly. His light whisper suddenly breaks the silence, "Do you really want this...? We can wait...", he asks you with sincere care.

But you just nod, "Yes... I want this, please..."

He doesn't need any more consent than that, his fingers glide over your wet folds. You gasp. He smirks slightly.

You widen your thighs a little to give him better access. Your breath quickens as he leaves faster and faster circles on your pearl. The pressure he exerts with his fingers increases and your thighs give way and tremble slightly. You grasp the back of his neck with your hand to find support. You whimper uncontrollably, biting your lip lightly to keep from moaning.

But Aemond pushes you further forward towards the bed. He makes you kneel on it and stick your ass up in the air. He has full view of your wet folds. He slides his hands down your ass. You whimper, longing for more touches. He grips your ass tightly. You hear him groan softly as he pulls your ass apart slightly and sees your arousal running down your thigh.

A shiver runs down your spine when you hear his groan.

He kneels on the floor, level with your folds. His hands are still on your ass, spreading it wide. You bite your lips hard as you suddenly feel his tongue sliding through your folds. A deep "Hmmm" sounds as he feels your wetness. The vibration right at your wet core increases your arousal. You grip the blanket you are kneeling on tightly. His tongue sinks into your folds, exploring them fully.

You moan softly as his tongue wanders around your clit again and again. Quick, smooth movements of his tongue make your arousal rise. You can't hold back, you push your hips further towards him to feel his tongue more. Suddenly you feel him insert a finger inside you. First he lets it slide through your folds. His tongue still on your clit. When all at once his finger penetrates. You moan again. Your spongy walls immediately clench around his finger. He chuckles lightly and guides his finger further into you. You push your hips further towards him. You want to feel his finger deeper.

But all of a sudden all his touches subside. He leans back, you look over your shoulder indignantly. You see him, his pupils dilated with lust. The purple is almost unrecognisable. His mouth and chin glisten from your arousal. You blush and bite your lower lip. He grins at you.

You crawl further onto the bed, letting yourself fall onto your back. He starts to undress. First his leather waistcoat, then his vest. You see his upper body. He has a beautiful upper body. Light scars run across his skin. Muscles are visible. His skin looks so soft. Suddenly the idea that you will soon be able to call him your husband no longer seems so unpleasant.

You want to touch his skin. You lean forward slightly and let your fingers wander gently over his stomach muscles. He looks at you, grinning slightly, "You like that?"

You just smile and nod.

He chuckles briefly and shakes his head slightly. He takes off his trousers.

And now your attention is on something else. You see him. His big cock. You swallow. It's big... very big. How is he going to fit inside you?

But you lie back. Aemond comes onto the bed and hovers over you. He kisses you. But differently than before. He kisses you passionately. He lets his cock slide through your moisture. You have never felt anything better, it is overwhelming. You moan loudly.

He chuckles, "Sssh... my love... we must be quiet"

You chuckle too, "Pardon me"

He continues to slide through your folds, his cock soaked with your arousal. You start to move towards him. You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. Your hands slide down his back, reach his ass. You reach for him, pressing him closer to you when he is in front of your entrance. He penetrates you a little, hissing softly, but he understands you without words. Slowly he penetrates you further. You breathe heavily. He is filling you completely.

"Fuck... you are tight. I.. won't last long," he gasps.

His movements are gentle, but his pace quickens. He reaches deeper points inside you.

You gasp.

He looks at you, "Are you all right, my love?" he breathes, his hand firmly on your hip. You have never seen him so caring. You nod at him, kiss his lips. A whimper escapes you.

As he increases his speed and thrusts harder into you, you can barely contain your moans. You press your face into the crook of his neck, biting lightly to keep from moaning.

You have never made love to a man before, but you have explored yourself enough with your fingers to know what you want. What you need.

"Aemond..." you gasp, "please... Harder..."

Aemond groans deep in his throat.

He kneels down, pulling you towards him by your waist. He wraps your legs around his waist, holds you by the hips with his big hands and lets himself sink into you in one movement. One thrust follows the next as his hands reach under your thighs and pull them towards his chest. Your feet dangle from his ears. Your walls clench hard around him. This new angle he reaches makes you see stars. A slight pain accompanies each thrust. But the pain instantly turns into pure pleasure. Aemond moans deeply as he realises how deep he is inside you, how you are clenching around him. He kisses your calves, which are next to his face. He is holding your thighs tightly to his torso with his arms. He holds you in this grip as his cock slides in and out of you. The rough slapping against each other and your suppressed moans and whimpers fill your chambers. All these pleasurable sounds drive him to fuck you harder.

He slides his hand down to your pearl, rubbing it wildly yet sensitively. That and his cock deep inside you, makes the old familiar feeling inside you rise. You reach for his arms, grip tightly. You moan out. Aemond doesn't care about the volume of your moans. He is drunk on the sounds that leave you. He thrusts into you without mercy and lets his length sink into you. His groans of pleasure mingle with your moans as he thrusts his pelvis against you.

Until you spasm uncontrollably around him. Your damp walls try to keep him inside, to pull him further in. They don't want to let him go. You reach for a pillow lying beside you and press it to your face. You moan loudly into it. Aemond grunts deeply. He notices his cock starting to twitch and he pulls it out of your cunt. You whimper and he spreads his hot seed over your belly. He continues to grunt, sliding his hand up and down his cock. He gasps and moans at the sight of you lying in front of him. Sweaty, flushed, breathing heavily and covered in his seed.

He slowly sinks backwards onto his legs and sits on his haunches. You still have the pillow in your hand and are breathing heavily. He smiles slightly at you and you can't help but smile too.

He slowly lies down beside you. Wraps his arms around you. You like that. You look at him, your cheeks still all red, your hair a mess.

He smiles at you.

"Okay... Perhaps you were better in the training yard...", he grins slightly at you and you have to chuckle slightly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357

564 notes · View notes

flordeamatista · 2 years

Text

𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙡𝙪𝙚

pairing: Park Ranger!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

concept: Unlike air or land, water can't forget what it travels through. Ari has been with you in water, so you will remain with him.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: yandere!Ari, soft dark Ari, soft!dom!Ari, desire, exhibition (lake smut), body worship, lust, stalking, soft handjob smut, poetic smut - p in v smut, unprotected sex, possessive behaviour, Masturbating, obsessive behavior, kisses, orgasms because Ari is Ari, nicknames = Sunshine

a/n: It's for Synth's Writer's Camp, @syntheticavenger, thank you so much for your guidance and I am always in awe of your storytelling.

This fic is also dedicated to @ lookiamtryingbecause you have been a constant source of support for me, and our silly rants about our men inspired Park Ranger Ari.

gif by the lovely @ lilacevansI adore you and appreciate you making me this gif

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel

Masterlist

There is no ribbon to bind me down underwater. I can feel nothing on my body.

Before running to the water, you glanced around, knowing your nudity. A smile spread across your face as you felt the refreshing sensation on your skin.

Your body glides smoothly over the surface of the water as you dive and slide through it with ease. Swimming through the shimmering waters, you saw swirls of light and ripples of gold encircling you.

Your visit to the lake was a joy because of its vibrant blue color, but also because of the crisp, piney scent in the air.

The waves created an ambient noise.

Your entire head was immersed, and there was no sound reverberating around you. It was a peaceful underwater world, and you needed that serenity. Over the last couple of weeks, there has been chaos, so you decided it was time to find peace and tranquility.

You immediately felt the coolness, flushes, and silkiness of the water as it travelled from your hair to your skin.

In her art, she is dressed in the warm sunlight that dances on her skin

Sunlight illuminated the lake where his lady was swimming, glistening like pearls off the water. A mythical mermaid emerges from the water after diving and resurfacing with curves that sparkle across the surface. Your shoulders and nipples pierced the surface of the water. Your hair fanned back as you broke the surface.

It is a beautiful sight to see.

All he needs is your touch and closeness.

You glow like a siren in the sun with the light reflecting off your damp skin.

There is a burning sensation in my body and the water is cleansing for his touch to rekindle his mark on me

Closing your eyes, you enter a dreamlike world.

There is still a sense of Ari around you. You can feel the heat of his body behind you, and his breath caresses your neck. You feel comforted by the way his strong arms embrace you.

You can picture how his soft, large hands grasp you. His fingers trace patterns from your elbow to your fingertips as he trails them along your arm. Your fingers are entwined in his, his eyes twinkling as he surrounds them with his thick ones.

Every time the water whispers memories around your body, you feel every touch of his hands as they drift over you, making you tremble and shiver for his touch.

While your eyes were still closed, a light splash landed in the center of the lake. Trees and clouds that framed the lake were distorted as he approached.

Call of love's siren.

You steadied your gaze on the slowly approaching ripples with your right arm grasping your right breast and your elbow covering the left.

Inhaling deeply and letting go of your tense muscles, you let the air out of your lungs.

A second splash.

Ari slapped the water from the same direction even though he was only a few feet away. From the rippled craters in the water, you watched a slow movement gradually creep toward your position while cupping your breasts tenderly. The only thing moving in your body was your breathing. You were paralyzed as the water around you cooled down, sending a shock of silent shivers through your nerve tunnels.

When you opened your eyes and smiled, you saw crystal blue eyes in front of you.

Seeing the sunlight brightening your eyes, he touches your body. You feel the heat of Ari's hands brushing against your skin as the water ripples over your shoulders and encircles your waist.

“Sweet Sweet Sunshine, I am here to take all the thoughts in your pretty head and make them only about me.”

His mouth is also warm, a softness that draws you in as he nibbles across the arching bow of your upper lip.

My love for you is more than a thousand words.

His hands trace the curves and dips of your silhouette. His hands find your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist. There is a slight twitch in his hips, and there is a small amount of friction that is enjoyable-but not enough to satisfy him. After breaking the kiss, Ari ducks his head and kisses the tops of your breasts as they rise out of the water with your back arching.

As your hands skim over his forearms and biceps, he feels his pectoral muscles bunch as he cradles you in the water, positioning you according to his taste.

Being in his arms in this beautiful water is freedom.

He stares at your loving gaze as you cup his face and stroke his hair, leaving a trace of water on his cheeks.

Whenever I kiss you, I feel as hot as fire and I will never get tired of your lovely scent.

Taking him hard in your hand, you tease him around your entrance, watching his chest quiver with small breaths. Taking hold of his length, your fingers feel the tingle of hunger as he squeezes impatiently against your hips.

As he steadily moves into your body, you exhale as you gasp for breath, sparking heat and sensation up your spine. Slowly, he presses into you, creating a long, sinuous curve that extends throughout your body. Soft moans followed by ripples of water almost completely obscuring your bodies.

You can feel Ari's hands everywhere—stroking over your nipples, pressing into your back's dimples, grounding your spirit, encouraging you, and always being there for you. He sucks his lower lip into yours in response to your soft moan.

Placing your forehead against his, you whisper, "You feel amazing, Ranger," and he nods.

A world of waters awaits Ari and you

With his hands sliding down to the front of his pants, Ari clutches himself through denim. It's like he's there with you, sneaking into the lake and putting his arms around you from behind. It is impossible that he is imagining the way you look at him, the way you did when you checked into the park.

No, why would you come to his park to undress? It's clear to him that you came for him.

The skin on your body is very soft. He knows that because he felt it when you signed your name on the sign in sheet and your fingers touched. His mind wanders to how it would be to be pressed up against you, bare-chested, nothing but skin and lips, as he has pictured it in his jeep at the nature trails searching for you.

He groans harder, breathing heavily. The echoes of the forest do little to muffle the moan. He wants badly to feel your thighs around his waist and your arms around his neck, something imagination cannot quite capture: slipping into you.

His desire to know these things has been long-held, and now he has a sudden image in front of him, accompanied by the knowledge that you are so nearby that he could very easily jump all the rocks and go into the lake with you. The only one who can have you is him.

His hand ceases to knead, and he reluctantly pulls it away.

In spite of his body's cries for stimulation, he forces himself to control those desires.

Unlike air or land, water can't forget what it travels through. Ari has been with you in water, so you will remain with him.

Tonight is a pleasure to be in, but it isn't now. His love for you can be expressed to him when he comes down to your tent for dinner. That's why you teased him this afternoon, he knows.

His gaze returns to you once more.

You seem at peace. You seem so relaxed.

During your stay, he will ensure you have the most relaxed experience of your life. Using his body and love, he will relieve your stress.

In the future, you two will be able to tell the kids about your camping adventure.

His pleasure is in the woods, and you will be the wind he welcomes with peace

The words echoed on the breeze, softly, gently, almost too faint to hear. You look around nervously, fingering your knife without thinking. By the full moon, shadows dance between the trees.The fire crackles and sparks fly into the air, a piece of burned wood falling and sending more sparks flying.

The fire is reflecting in the blue eyes of the ranger as he carries a rope in his hands and is ready to tie you down. He will make sure you both live until the end because you are his pearl of light and you will not swim away from him this time.

In this dark blue night sky, you will be his ride and and journey to every part of this park. because a ranger needs someone to share the beauty of nature with.

His shadow would no longer surround him, but you would be on your knees for him every blue day and night.

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

Text

a/n: part two for this request - "may i request a fem reader x anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling her babe when no one is around - since quite a few of you wanted one! if you want to find it on my masterlist, it's called Love, simply because I'm terrible at naming my fanfics lmao. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of death/suicide (very vague), language female reader taglist: @cassiopeiia24 @nessa-stark @galactidiot @randomfanficreader @tom-foolery-time

part 1

Loneliness. Terrible, suffocating loneliness. It's thick and cloying and it's getting harder to breathe. God, your throat is closing up and your lungs hurt, weighed down by this strong sense of isolation and abandonment. How are you meant to function when it's so powerful, so heartbreaking? It's overtaking your heart, filling your lungs, intoxicating your blood.

With a feeling like whiplash, you're torn from your vision, and your hand is tugged away from the tree branch and placed on someone's chest. You can feel someone's heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and your own slows. Breathing is a little easier now.

"You're okay, love. I'm here."

The voice shakes you out of your daze, and your eyes snap open, only to be met with the face of Anthony Lockwood.

The setting sun is working wonders on him. Gold and orange rays of light fight for dominance on those high cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His dark eyes swirl with hues of copper and caramel. His lips, turned down slightly with worry, hide the possibility of a bright smile as you look at him.

"Don't -"

"Call you that," he finishes. "Yes, I know. You realise that the more you tell me not to, the more I will."

You scowl at him, but you don't move. A month ago, you would've pulled out of his grip and away from him within a second but, now, you can't bring yourself to.

He knows this all too well, and he revels in it. More often now does he find some excuse to have you touch him. Oh, (name), pass me some salt bombs, won't you? Followed by a not-so-subtle brush of fingers. Do I have lavender in my hair? Get it out, please, the scent becomes too strong sometimes. And there's usually no way for you to get out of shaking it out of his hair because he often puts your hand there himself. Let me walk you home. Then he'll drape an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close or safe as he calls it.

Maybe you've bolstered this attitude of his because more often than not, you don't object. Yes, you'll call him an idiot or a twat or something more insulting, but you've come to welcome these touches, however fleeting they may or may not be.

So, now, with your fingers splayed over his white shirt, it's almost as if you can't bring yourself to move. It doesn't seem like Lockwood is particularly fussed about moving, either.

"What did you see?" he asks, eyeing you carefully. "Something seemed different."

Despite your team's displeasure about paired up so frequently with Lockwood and Co for certain cases by DEPRAC, you haven't been too bothered by it. You and Lockwood have begun working like a team, figuring out each other's tells and habits while still throwing insults and remarks back and forwards. He's become used to watching you use Touch to figure out where sources are, learning how your body reacts in accordance to different things.

You don't want to tell him that this particular vision fed into your own feelings, so instead you say, "It was just stronger than usual. We're close. Very close."

At last, his hand releases yours, and he places his hands on his hips, staring up at the towering tree before you. Members from both of your teams linger around the whole park, scouting out for any clues as to where the source is, seemingly with no luck. The reason for that is likely the pairings. Lucy and Kat and Ned, George and Bobby and Kipps. None of them are getting on particularly well.

"You think it's the branch itself?"

"I'm not sure." You flash your torchlight on the thick branch. "This guy, well, you know... His body was found here after days of just..."

"Hanging there."

"Thank you for that input. But yes. It would make sense. The rope had to be cut off because it was tied so tight. And the emotions were extremely strong, so it would be my best bet."

"Well, whatever you say, love."

You purse your lips. "You're insufferable."

"You love that about me."

Fighting down the urge to strangle him, you pull your silver net out of your belt. "I say we place the net over the branch, see if the ghost still appears. If it does, well, we're fucked, to put it simply. I'll be completely clueless. But, if it doesn't, then we can secure it in place overnight and get someone to remove the branch in the morning."

"Aye, aye, captain."

"Shut up."

Lockwood grins at you then, so bright and dazzling that for a moment you're frozen.

Maybe it affects you the way it does because it's something you've lacked for years. You can't remember the last time someone smiled at you with such joy before Lockwood, as if you've done something to deserve it.

Gently, he takes the silver net from your hands and swings out over the branch before stepping back and looking at it like he's just finished some incredible piece of art. You roll your eyes, glancing back at your teams again.

"I think Barnes pairs us up on purpose," you say. "He knows we don't all get on."

"We get on tremendously," Lockwood remarks. "We went from you insulting my clothes and face, and me making fun of your moods, to being the best of friends."

Frowning, you say, "I wouldn't say 'the best of friends'. I tolerate you, Lockwood. And your face and fashion haven't improved over this last month, I hope you know. I mean, come on, grey tie and pink socks? It's like you're taking inspiration from some raw salmon. Do I have to buy you some socks for your Christmas?"

He nudges your shoulder with his. "You hear yourself? You're on about getting me a Christmas present!"

His fingers brush yours then, and you almost jump from the contact. His hand is warm against the back of yours, and your fingers twitch slightly with the urge to entwine with his, even if part of you is telling you not to do it.

With a jolt, you step away. "Let's wait for this ghost. I'll let the others know about the plan."

There's something in his eyes, an unfamiliar spark within their darkness, that sends heat to your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach. But you turn away, adamant that you won't fall for his charm or whatever this is. You won't. Maybe.

"Oh, I've been looking for that!"

You turn as you throw a bag of pasta into your shopping basket, stopping short when you see Lockwood standing on the opposite side of the aisle. He's dressed in his usual shirt-trousers-ridiculously-long-jacket get-up, grinning with a basket hooked over his arm. For a minute, you're confused about what he means, and then you realise which hoodie you're wearing. His grey one.

In your defence, you thought you had picked up your grey Fittes one and had been a little confused by the length of it on you, but now you realise that it is not yours at all but the one he gave you a month ago. The one you keep forgetting to give him.

"Oh, yes. Um, I'll get it back to you soon."

He laughs and says, "You've told me that for weeks now. You might as well keep it now, love."

You glance down at the hoodie, fingers fiddling with the old hem. "I'll get it back to you."

"Whatever you say."

His smile is blinding, and you find yourself smiling, too. It's only a little tug at the corner of your lips, but you can see the happiness in his eyes at the sight of it. It makes something in your chest feel warm and proud and loved.

Loved. The word sends sparks down your spine. When was the last time you felt like that?

"Well, I have to get going," Lockwood says, gesturing to his basket. "George is getting tetchy and we have almost no food left in the house. I'm worried I'll get home and the house will have been destroyed in his rage."

You snort. "Kipps is the same at the Fittes offices. I try and steer clear of him when he's in a mood. He's worse than me."

"Worse than you? Sorry, love, but that's hard to believe."

"Oh, be quiet." You give him a look, and humour glints in his eyes. "I was going to offer to give you warnings of when he's particularly irritated, but I won't, now. You can just suffer."

"You have to admit," he says, "that Kipps is awfully funny when he's mad. He goes red as a tomato."

"He does."

Lockwood's smile softens to something more private, and your heart skips a beat. You want to curse at yourself. It's been a month of spending more cases together, of him walking you home late at night or catching you unawares, and already you feel differently about him. Once, you saw him as nothing more but an arrogant boy whom you couldn't stand, whose very presence had you on edge. Although you enjoyed taking the mick out of him and riling him up, you wanted to keep your interactions to a minimum.

But now?

God, you're not sure what changed. Maybe it's the way he smiles at you like he's proud of you for everything you've done and gone through, and so endlessly happy with you for simply existing. Maybe it's the gentle touches of reassurance and how he has somehow come to know your tells of nervousness or apprehension. Maybe it's how he's come to know you so well, well enough to slip little snacks you like into your kitbag for you to find on later cases when it's just you and your Fittes team.

Even now, you can spot your favourite biscuits in his basket - biscuits you're aware nobody in his house likes.

"I'll see you around," Lockwood says with his enchanting smile.

It brings out a slightly bigger smile from you. "See you, Lockwood."

As he brushes past you, his fingers twitch as if to latch onto yours, and he says, "Call me Anthony from now on, love."

"All right," you murmur. "Anthony."

"I'm going to kill you one day."

Lockwood breathes a laugh, peering around the corner of the street. "Who would provide you such amazing entertainment if not for me?"

You draw your rapier. "Anyone. Quite literally anyone. You know, there's this thing called salt, and Kat puts it in Bobby's coffee when he's not looking sometimes. However, now is really not the time for that. Are those Rawbones still looking for us?"

"No."

"Oh, good."

"Well, not really. They've found us."

A horrible wail pierces your ears, one that Lockwood can't hear, and you flinch, glancing past him and to the ghosts that are leering at you. Rawbones, terrible variations of Wraiths, with no skin and bulging eyes. The sound of their teeth grinding sets the hairs on your arms on end., and the glare you send his way is scathing.

"I told you we should've just left!"

"Nonsense." Lockwood's rapier is moving fluidly in front of him, keeping the Visitors at bay. "You're the best agent I know besides myself. We can handle these."

Scowling, you throw a salt bomb at each of the two Rawbones. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should. We've no way of finding a source!"

"Hey, think about it. If these guys kill us, then at least you won't have had to get your hands dirty killing me. Either way, we can dispatch them easily."

You glower at him and throw another salt bomb, watching the flakes disintegrate parts of the other-light and speckle the ground. "Who would even want to haunt a street with a greasy chippy and stinking public toilets?"

He grins as he looks back at you. "Maybe they were particularly fond of the chippy. Can't beat fish and chips on a Friday night. Are you a mushy peas or gravy kind of girl?"

"At the moment, neither!"

One of the Rawbones takes its chance with his peas-or-gravy distraction and launches towards Lockwood, but it never gets the chance. With all your force, you shove him out of the way, and you both slam into the wall. A harsh chill overtakes you, and you're dimly aware of a tingling pain in your arm, but you ignore it, throwing another salt bomb.

Lockwood takes up holding them back with his rapier, and it's then that you notice your jumper's sleeve steaming, a section of it burned away by ectoplasm. You hadn't been expecting to be out so late and for so long, so you didn't think to bring your thick jacket with you. Regretting your decision, you stare as the skin of your arm starts turning blue.

"Anthony?"

"Mm?" He doesn't look away from the ghosts.

"We - we have an issue."

"Do we? I think we're handling this quite well. My shoulder hurts from slamming into a brick wall, but -"

"Anthony!"

He glances back at you, his eyes immediately drawn to your burned and smoking sleeve, and the blue, swelling skin beneath. He pales momentarily, gritting his teeth, and something overtakes his expression. Anger. But not at you.

"Cover your ears and get back behind that bin over there."

"You can't be serious. It's surrounded by mouldy bananas and -"

"Go!"

The urgency in his voice has you moving before you even realise it. Ducked behind the big bin a few feet away, you peer around it and try to block out the horrible smell. Lockwood is still holding off the pair of Rawbones, but he's holding something in his free hand. It's only when he's running over to you to take cover that it was a magnesium flare.

An explosion shakes the ground, and although you had covered your ears, they still ring loudly. You can't hear what Lockwood is saying, but he drags you away by your good arm and down the street in the opposite direction from the ghosts. They're not gone permanently, but the flare has given you enough time to make your escape.

It's only when you're a few streets away that you both stop to catch your breaths beside an old phone box. You're struggling, feeling as though you're trying to breathe through a single straw, and your skin feels weird. Overly aware of the inner workings beneath it.

"Anthony," you repeat, but your voice isn't as strong.

Your legs are shaking, and you can't feel your arm anymore. You can faintly hear him speaking in the phone box, asking for an ambulance, and then he's in front of you, catching you as you stumble against a shop wall and to your knees. He tears the sleeve off your jumper, preventing any more ectoplasm from getting on your arm. Not that it would make a difference. It's already getting worse.

"You'll be all right, love," he promises, holding you close to his chest as you shiver. "An ambulance is coming. They'll be here soon."

You don't have the energy to speak, but you manage a small nod.

"They'll give you an adrenaline shot, and you'll be fine. You can get right back to insulting me."

His shirt is warm beneath your hand as you grip it weakly. It's a strange sensation feeling your organs slowly stop working. Already, your pulse sounds weaker in your ears.

"Hey, stay with me."

Your eyes find his and, for a moment, everything's all right. They're warm and soft and so, so comforting, and he's giving you that private smile he's taken to sharing with you. His cheeks are rosy, and salt is dusted in his hair like snow. Your lips tug in a meagre attempt at a smile.

"You're an asshat," you manage. "We should've gone the way I said."

He breathes a laugh. "Yeah, we should've."

His hand brushes hair from your eyes, lingering on your cheek for a moment, and you lean into the touch, relishing in the feeling of his pulse against your skin. If you don't think too hard, you can pretend it's yours and that your organs aren't on shutdown.

"Hey, look," Lockwood says gently. "See the lights, love? Ambulance is here to help you. You'll get that adrenaline and you'll be fine."

And you know you will be. His voice is so genuine that you know he's not just saying it to ease your mind. You've seen agents and civilians with ghost-touch, seen their skin turn blue and swell and their lives slowly drain away when the ambulances took too long to reach them. But you'll be okay. As long as Lockwood stays with you.

Giving Anthony Lockwood your address was the best idea you've ever had.

He knows where you hide your spare key outside of your flat, so he lets himself in as you lounge on your sofa, watching the news on your old TV. For now, you're out of action, your arm still taking time to recover from ghost-touch, though you're all right in most other senses.

Your arm aches still and has taken to staying a faint shade of blue, and sometimes you have the unshakeable fear that you've not been cured of the ghost-touch, but you always come out of it fine.

The one benefit of being on sick leave is that Lockwood stops by every single day without fail with a coffee from your favourite café, along with a fresh packet of your favourite biscuits and a newspaper. You're not big on reading the newspapers, but you figure he brings them simply because his face is appearing in them more and more, and he wants to show off.

"Oh, you're an angel," you murmur as you take the coffee from his hands, taking a long sip of it and sighing contentedly.

He beams at you, scattering the biscuits onto a plate. He does that so you can gradually eat them over the day without having to struggle to pick them out of the packet, but you're sure he knows that you scoff them all the minute he leaves. As soon as you're back out of your flat and working, you're going to have to get back to your morning runs. Maybe the runs can be you running to the shop to buy more...

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he says, bringing the plate over and setting it on your coffee table. "I'll pretend you've said it because you adore me so and not because I've turned into your slave."

You smile sweetly over the lid of your cup. "You don't have to get me stuff. I've told you this. It's your fault for being a stubborn ass."

He laughs, sitting at the end of the sofa, just beside where your feet are curled up. "And there's the name-calling. Glad to know you're getting better, love. Besides, if I can make life a little easier for you, I may as well. Now you owe me."

"So it's not out of the kindness of your heart, then?" You roll your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. "And I thought we were friends."

Raising an eyebrow, he says, "Just friends?"

For a second, something in your chest constricts and you can't look at him. "I mean, if you really want to say best friends, you can go for it, but I'm not really in the business of -"

"Just shut up and admit you like me already, love. It's agonising watching this play out."

You freeze, mouth slightly opened and eyes wide. Lockwood looks at you with a smug expression, eyes glittering with something - mischief, glee. Swallowing the lump in your throat and closing your mouth, you look away from those dark eyes of his.

Growing up how you did, it's always been hard for you to discern your feelings beyond irritation and anger. The more time you spent with Lockwood, the more things you felt and the more confusing everything became. Finally, you had a friend, someone you could laugh with and explore a part of you that you've never been permitted to. You've found out that you like things you never thought you would, like walking home in the dark, pulled close to someone's side. Shopping with the hopes of seeing the people you know and care for. Reading. Feeling someone's arms around you. Being smiled at in a way that makes you feel warm and mushy inside.

Lockwood has been the one to start the change, to awaken these feelings inside of you. Before him, you were lonely. Horribly so, and your anger was a way for you to mask that. But ever since your time spent together, one particular feeling has always stood out, and you've never been able to understand it.

Love.

You're not really sure what love is, but you know you feel it when he's around. When he grins at you in that special way of his, or when he plays with your fingers on long walks home, trying to figure out what each line and crease means as if he's a palm reader. When he keeps you close to his side and steps in front of you, shielding you from ghosts even though you're more than capable of taking care of yourself.

Love might be the feeling of happiness in your chest when you look at him. It might be the flutter you get in your tummy when his name is spoken, or his skin touches yours.

"I..." You struggle with the words.

But he understands. You know with the way the corners of his lips twitch and his nose crinkles that he understands. You've never been good at communicating verbally, something he's begun to learn.

"I've known for a while," he says. "I'm irresistible, after all."

The humour helps ease the whirlwind in your mind. "You're insufferable."

He leans over, his fingers brushing yours before latching on. You've had this exact conversation before. "You love me for it."

You do. You really do.

So you don't move away when his face nears yours, watching as he slowly comes closer, closer, closer. His eyes are so bright, speckled with so many shades of bronze and copper and gold, and so happy.

No, you do move. You lean forward, and all of a sudden your lips are on his and his hands are pulling your face impossibly closer and you're clutching onto him with your good hand. And you're spiralling, down and down into this feeling people call love, falling onto it like a soft bed you've never had the privilege to sleep in before. There's an ever-so-faint taste of bitter tea on his lips, which are so soft it shouldn't be real.

But it is. It's so, so real, and you're kissing him. He's kissing you. The world melts away. You feel like you're exploding in bursts of colour and flowers and stars until you're nothing more than the air that surrounds you.

And when he pulls away, you smile wider than you ever have before.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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mncxbe · 10 months

Note

could i request something with the superstition of “if you can tie a cherry’s stem, that means you’re a good kisser” and dazai? i feel like he’s the type of loser who’d believe that sentiment

This may be the cutest request I got and YES he would definitely fall for that and would struggle to master the technique. I hope you like it anon♡

Cheri Cheri lady🍒

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Was a kiss all it took to earn a date with you?

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

It was the end of March and the cherry trees were almost in full bloom in Yokohama. The sweet, honey like scent of the flowers and the rosy petals, blown by a gentle breeze, were enough to make you feel like you were in another world.

Seeing the blossoms was all you could think about all day at work. Dazai noticed your aloof, almost nostalgic mood but didn't bring it up until the two of you left the office.

"Is everything alright? You seemed distant today"

"Yea, perfect actually. I was just really excited to see the cherry trees. Wanna join me?" you replied in a cheerful tone

The man could barely hide the look of surprise on his face. "Sure, I'd love to"

The two of you walked along the crowded streets of Yokohama until you reached Yamashita park. The trees bore a foliage of brilliant green and the air was fresh; it smelt like spring. As you strolled around the park Dazai noticed that pink and white petals covered the ground from place to place.

The cherry trees lined the wide alley next to the river.

"I used to come here with my parents when I was a kid" you began talking "We would sit next to the railing and look at the trees. My dad would often buy us cherries from a shop nearby and I remember they had this slightly sour taste, but nevertheless I loved them and~ oh sorry I'm kinda oversharing now"

"There's no need to aplogize. I like listening to you talk" replied your colleague. You took a seat on a bench under one of the blossomed trees and remained silent as you admired the scenery.

Dazai on the other hand only had eyes for you. He took in your features and couldn't help but marvel at how pretty, how serene you looked. You had a certain glimmer in your eyes, a longing of some sort but he couldn't quite place it. Occasional gusts of wind would blow the pink flowers off the branches; the petals delicately falling on your dark hair. He wanted to brush them off, to tuck a strand of your silky hair behind your ear and caress your face but he resisted the urge.

Instead, a caravan nearby caught is attention. The man was selling cherries. He swiftly got up and made his way to the merchant, buying a bag of cherries.

"Look what I just found" he said with a mischievous grin on his face as he dangled the bag in front of you.

"Thanks. I'm surprised they still sell them here." you replied, popping one of the fruits in your mouth. They had the same sour taste you so fondly remembered...

Half an hour later the sun began to set, painting the ink blue water of the river in a hue of red and orange.

"You know, Osamu. People say that if you can tie a cherry's stem with your tongue that means you're a good kisser."

"To tie? Really? How does it even work?"

He took one of the stems that had been discarded next to you and put it in his mouth. A smile rose to your lips as you watched the man next to you struggle to form the knot. After a few tries he finally got it.

"See, there's nothing I can't do. I'm a great kisser."

"I don't know about that. It's just a saying, it doesn't prove anything" you mocked playfully.

"Well then, how about I do something else to convince you"

His fingers slightly bruhed your cheek on their way to the nape of your neck and he pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours. You softened in his embrace as his other arm went to the small of your back. The kiss was gentle and warm at first, but his tongue eventually slid past your lips earning a soft moan from you.

You felt Dazai smile. Being satisfied with your reaction he quickly pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

"So, what do you think? I'm quite a good kisser, aren't I?"

You nodded slightly; your cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. Dazai ate one more cherry before leaning in again, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"There's other things I can do with my tongue too, bella."

"Osamu!" you snapped at him, playfully slapping his arm. "Don't say that here"

He only laughed, eyes locked with yours. When the sun was almost down you got up and, grabbing the empty bag of cherries, motioned him to get up.

"We gotta go now"

"Why? The trees are beautiful under the moonlight too. We should stay a bit longer."

"That would ruin tomorrow's date, wouldn't it?" you said with a wink.

"A date? Was a kiss all it took to earn a date with you?" he teased but got up and followed you.

"What can I say, Osamu. You're a great kisser."

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai

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rainroses45 · 1 year

Text

My Moonlight

(Neteyam x fem. reader)

☾description: You wander off into the forest and Neteyam is out looking for you….this takes place 10 years later

☾a/n: I promised fluff so here it comes

☾song inspiration: Neytiri’s song cord and melting

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

You twirled through the forest as a gentle hum played in your mind. Your hands scattered through the different plants feeling their unique textures. The simple breeze of fresh air flowed through your messy hair. A smile spread across your face as you stopped your movement and stared off into the distance. The beautiful sun began to settle down for bed, but still giving you an hour or two to rejoice in its natural glow.

“Ngati oel munge soaiane.” You sang gently as you sat slowly onto the ground, needing a little rest from the climbing and walking. Your baby bump caused you to struggle a bit, but you still managed to get comfortable. The beautiful flowers blossomed around you, heavenly disposing their scent onto your smooth skin. The forest stayed quiet as you sang it a song.

“Lie si oe atanur,” your voice carried through the forest surrounding you. The moss underneath you was so soft and laced in bright green. A soft small kick was felt on your stomach. You smiled down rubbing one hand on your bump.

“Pähem parul, tì'ongokx ahuta.” The flowers swayed towards the melody as the wind grew quiet. Your necklace rattled gently with the wisps of the breeze. The feeling of freedom and glee made you glow in the evening dew.

“Lawnol a mì te'lan,” your soft voice sang as the sun slowly began to leave you for the night. It was the moon’s time to shine.

“Lawnol a mì te'lan,” you sang the lyric once more, wood spirits flowed towards your direction like graceful dancers.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, tonìri tìreyä,” the world around you began to glow in vibrant colors. It’s soothing pigments lured you into a sleepy trance.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe,” you were so tired and liberated from the world around you. The need to close your eyes grew stronger and stronger every passing second.

“Srrìri tìreyä, ma Eywa, ma Eywa.” You let out a yawn as you finished the song, nestling up next to a tree you allowed yourself to drift into dreamland.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“There you are my love,” a familiar voice said as you opened your eyes to greet the special intruder. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder softly waking you back up.

“Neteyam, you nearly scared me to death,” you weakly laughed as you turn yourself to lay on your back. A yawn escaped from you as you rubbed your eyes open.

“I could say the same thing,” he commented back “I told you to not travel too far, with you being almost ready to deliver, I do not need you to be far away in pain.” His expression lightened up after seeing you and the baby were more than alright.

“I know, but I just wanted to adventure out for a bit.” You explained lifting yourself up with the help of your husband into a sitting position. “I’m just tired of being cooped up all day staring at the same wall.”

“I understand my love, but tell me when you are going to wander off so I may accompany you or send one of my siblings too.” He pushed back a strand of your hair behind your ear, admiring your beautiful features.

“I don’t need a baby sitter Neteyam.” You stated in an annoyed tone. “I am perfectly fine by myself.” You looked away from your mate, wanting to enjoy the beautiful night sky before you were sent back to your prison.

“And I didn’t say you weren’t capable sweetheart, I know fully well who I chose to spend the rest of my life with. You are a strong warrior Y/n, but-“

“There is no but, I just want to be able to have some privacy.” You responded back with tears in your eyes. The moon light shines across the sorrowful liquid.

“I understand that Y/n. I just don’t want to be told that my lover is in labor alone with no one to help her.” He argued back grabbing your hand in his, intwining your fingers in a tight hold.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized looking down at your baby bump, grabbing Neteyam’s free hand and placing it on your stomach allowing him to feel his baby’s kicks.

He looked back at you with gleaming eyes and a soft smile. You had the sweetest soul he has ever seen, he thought as he cradled your right cheek carefully. Gently bringing your faces together, your lips touched in a passionate delicate kiss. He held your face as you melted in the feeling of love.

The kiss was soft, he held you like a fragile flower who’s petals only began to bloom. Neteyam loved to lavish you with his love. You are his sweet caring mate who deserves nothing less than the world after all. He was so proud of you, so very proud of you for carrying his child.

He did everything for you, feeding every one of your cravings no matter how weird they were, massaging your sore feet as you cried out in pain over the cramps. His protectiveness over you increased once he figured out you were gifted with the blessing of having life. Oh how he loved you, you were his moonlight who paired so well with his stars.

A blush blemished your face as you parted away from the kiss. Your hands still intwined with one another.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” you whispered softly as you shifted yourself into his arms, trying to drift back into your wonderful nap.

“I love you to Y/n.”

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

a/n: if i was only this motivated to finish essays this fast…welp

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #fluff #na'vi avatar #avatar #neteyam sully #family #pandora #avatar way of water #omaticaya

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kiss-theggoat · 10 months

Note

Catch me stretching out in the middle of the forest in a patch of grass. Full-on stretching like a cat before just going limp. Because fuck it- we’re in nature- no one out here and the grass is nice.

Jason just stairing and thinking ‘Ma... What the heck is that?’

A/N: Jason my sweet boy 🥹 thanks for the request and I hope you like this!

Sweet Stranger

Jason Voorhees x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Summary: You decided to relax away from the camp you and your friends set up, enjoying the grass and cool breeze. You weren’t aware you had an observer.

TW: Canon typical violence, Stalking, Jason is repressed, Mommy issues

You sighed, listening to your drunk friends yell and cause issues in this peaceful old camp. It was barely 5 PM, and all of them were blacked out already, stumbling on the dock, dangerously close to the water. The dread in your stomach was growing, watching Jen’s feet teeter on the edge, you knew if she fell in, she wouldn’t be okay.

You didn’t want to come in the first place. In all honesty, you were a little sketched out by all of the rumors about this place. Camp Crystal Lake was renowned in your little community, known for its hulking creature that killed any intruder on the property. You stayed sober because of this rumor, and because you didn’t want to be sloppy and embarrassing, like your friends.

The cool damp grass was calling your name as you stared into the distance, away from the chaos and the noise. Your knees cracked as you stood from your low lawn chair, grabbing your flip flops from the dock beneath you, sliding them on as you walked away. No one noticed as you left.

The grass tickled your knees as you strode threw it, leaving dew on your hot skin. The sun was nice, but the lake looked so enticing at this moment, you didn’t want to go over there with your friends. The grass was cooling you down, but not enough to satiate you.

You ran your hand over the blades, the coolness enticing you. When you were far enough away to not hear them anymore, you decided, even though you knew it’d make you itchy, to plop down in the center of the grass. Bugs and all. Finally a moment of peace and relaxation, looking up at the blue sky, white clouds moving past you. You closed your eyes, a deep breath bringing in the sweet scent of the trees and flowers around you.

Unbeknownst to you, the man from the legend was true. And there he stood, large hand braving his body against the large tree he hid behind. What he saw in the clearing by his lake was someone different. Someone who wasn’t partaking in the debauchery, someone respecting and appreciating what his camp had to offer. He heard a squeal, turning to see the source of the noise. A girl being lifted by her juiced up boyfriend, and tossed into his lake. Jason knew you were different. Instead of screaming and drinking and having sex, you lay in the grass, a serene look settled on your face. Jason knew you were like him.

He heard the same comforting voice of his mother, the one that directed him to get rid of the intruders and protect the camp, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to kill you. Your pretty skin shined in the sunlight, sticky with sweat in a way that Jason admired. He had a whole new set of feelings that he’d never felt before deep in his gut, feelings that forced him to ignore his instincts.

‘Jason….get rid of them!’ The hissing voice of his mother rang in his head. He had to pull his eyes off of you to walk towards your friends, machete gripped tight and neck veins bulging with anger.

After a while of laying in the cool grass, you’d noticed a suspicious silence down by the dock. You stood up, concern lining your face as you quickly walked over. You didn’t see any movement, didn’t hear any yelling, nothing. Your flip flop splashed, strange, you’re far from the water. Looking down, to your horror, red surrounded your toes in a menacing pool.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, keeping your head on a swivel, heart pounding and hands trembling. A sloshing sound caused you to whip around, facing the lake. You stood in horror as a huge, muscular man emerged from the water, blood and murkiness flowing down his neck beside the chains that jingled as he walked. You began to back up, too scared to take your eyes off of him. He was easily a foot taller than you, muscles bulging through the tattered army green jacket he wore. The machete he gripped was caked in blood, both old and new, now rinsed with dirty lake water and decorated with a string of some sort of plant. As he completely emerged, his boots slammed into the mud, the mere size of him was enough to make you feel helpless. He was no doubt stronger and faster than you, there was nothing you could do.

“It’s true.” You said quickly, not knowing what to do. You were in shock. “The legend…”

Jason listened to you. There was a legend about him? He stood still, ignoring the nagging from his mother. ‘Jason, take care of it!’ She hissed, getting angrier the longer that he stood still, but he couldn’t kill you. He dropped his machete in the mud, adding to the stains and diseases on that thing. You two stood, staring at each other in silence. His head tilted down as he turned to the side, walking away from you.

You began to feel bad for the man. In the legend, he was just protecting his land, and maybe that’s why he isn’t killing you. You weren’t being obnoxious. Jason’s mother was screaming in his head, calling him a bad boy and making him upset. He frowned behind his mask, feeling like a coward and a failure.

“Wait!” Jason perked up, hearing your pretty voice talk to him. He stopped and slowly turned around. Just seeing you made him feel better. You looked up at him with big eyes, probably making a huge mistake, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Don’t go.”

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x you

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strawhatsoraya · 11 months

Note

u thot i was finished?? guess again 🥰️ alright, this time i'm requesting luffy (bc i can't believe i never asked u for this before) and the prompts: popsicle & ❛show me how much you missed me❜; just some upcoming summer vibez, yk <3 the luffy agenda must be spread!!!

you incorrigible nasty woman *does her best trump impression* nasty nasty woman the nastiest in the history of nasty woman.

it's ok i love you this way.

it IS summer so this will be my first official summer fic of 2023. woop woop. SUMMER OF SMUT should totes be like a thing, you know? like kinktober? i'm just sayin'. anyway I can't believe I haven't written Luffy smut before so here we go. you asked for popsicle so I feel like a one trick pony rn so please forgive me but that's how things ended up.

(also if that's boricua luffy that you think you see, you see correctly i like to push my own agenda sometimes)

LUFFY X FEM READER / NSFW WC: 3.5k of foolishness CW: luffy likes his lil pet names, also he likes popsicles, food play, messy messy, oral, there's a mouth, and there's a popsicle, and there's a cock, idk you do the math, luffy being a lil shit but we love him SUMMARY: Modern AU / Luffy stays at Sabo's for a week to help him study for his finals (he is a freshman in College/Uni), and when he comes back home Y/N wants to show him just badly she missed him.

Summer was eternal on the island.

The sun, unforgiving and tempestuous, hung high in the azure blue sky. At the moment the clouds were sparse but when you live in a tropical environment, it is only a matter of time before rain clouds make an impromptu appearance.

It doesn’t matter to you; however. Not today.

Whether it stormed, whether the wind blew violently, or not you weren’t moving from your spot.

You hadn’t seen Luffy in a few weeks, and you were dying to hold him in your arms. It wasn’t something you wanted to admit out loud; however. You sit on the hammock you both set up together, in between two palm trees in the backyard of his house. It’s a hot summer day. Sweat already pills on your forehead, and on your nose. You wipe at it with the back of your hand. It was fortunate that the trees shielded you from most of the sun’s rays, otherwise it would be absolutely intolerable to wait for Luffy any longer.

You hear him before you see him. His laughter was bright and melodic. There’s a familiar slapping of sandals that is recognizable. Luffy had a bad habit of stomping as he walked. You turn your torso to look over your shoulder. He makes a grand appearance through the back door, no shirt–all big sunshine smiles and glistening brown skin. The wind picks up and brings over to you the scent of his favorite shampoo, behind it, you also get a very brief whiff of sunblock.

He never wore much on his pretty face, but you had nagged him enough to finally succumb.

“Hi,” you greet him, feeling inexplicably shy as he stomps towards you, his arms spread out wide. When he finally reaches your back on the hammock, he brings his arms around you and squeezes. Luffy giggles as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You hum content, tilting your head to give him more room.

“You smell so good,” he mumbles against your skin, dropping sloppy wet kisses up and down your neck. He kisses up to your ear, eliciting goosebumps throughout your body. You roll your eyes, determined to chastise him while pretending not to be enjoying his dramatic display of affection. Luffy leaves you no room. “Although a little sticky.” He nips at your earlobe and you cry out in surprise, shoving his face away by placing your hand on his cheek and pushing.

“That’s because it’s HOT,” you enthuse with a raise of your brows. Luffy smooches your cheek with a resounding smack before he lets you go at last. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m a little sweaty.”

Luffy laughs quietly, and instead of making it around you and the hammock–he decides to climb over it, lifting one leg over the hammock then the other. He uses the hammock for support, so you shake and sway in your seat.

“Oh, come on!” you complain although you’re quick to laugh. Luffy drops on the space next to you, making you slide down the hammock until you’re pressed up right next to him. “Can’t you do things normally for once?”

“Nah,” he replies, curling one arm around your waist. It’s hot, insufferably so, but Luffy was always like this. Always needing you close, always needing you to touch. “What’s normal anyway?”

You glance up at him through your lashes, and not for the first time you can’t help but notice how pretty your boyfriend is. The sunlight is soft through the green leaves, casting dancing shadows over Luffy’s face. Today he’s not wearing his hat on his head, so the wind plays with his messy hair, brushing it off his forehead.

You reach up to trace one thick eyebrow with an index finger. Luffy closes his eyes briefly as you do so, his long thick lashes fluttering gently. It is so tempting to just kiss him on the hammock, to forget everything and give in to your raging hormones but there’s a paper bag on Luffy’s lap and curiosity bests your desire for once.

“What you got there?” you ask him, bringing your hand down to brush your knuckles down one of his exposed biceps. Luffy shivers but doesn’t look away from the bag. You smile secretly. He always liked to pretend you didn’t have an effect on him. He was a strange kind of masochist. He enjoyed holding out for as long as possible as if it was a challenge only he competed in.

“Popsicle,” he answers simply, pulling it out from the bag. He quickly tears the wrapper open and pops it into his mouth. Luffy holds it there, no hands, so he can crumple the bag and wrapper.

“I don’t get any?” you ask him playfully, knowing full well why he didn’t get you one.

“You don’t even like popsicles,” he answers unamused, rolling his eyes as he leans back on the hammock. You yelp when your weight shifts. Luffy uses one of his arms to spread out the hammock, so you can lay on your back with him. The other held on to the popsicle. “Come here, and stop complaining. I haven’t seen you in a week.”

You wiggle on the hammock until your head is resting on his arm. The sky above is peaceful, with the wind making the tree branches sway slightly. If it was cooler, you’d fall asleep quickly, there in Luffy’s warmth.

“Yeah, a whole week. How could you leave me like that? You’re heartless,” you declare dramatically, elbowing his side slightly. Luffy chuckles, next to you, the popsicle melting quicker than he can eat it.

“I was studying with Sabo, you know this!” he groans, his thick brows drawing together. “You’re the one who told me if I didn’t pass my finals you were gonna break up with me. I almost died. My head was going to explode.”

“That was an empty threat and you know it,” you mumble, turning your face to look at him.

Now that he was laying on his back, the length of his lashes were even more noticeable. His lips, dark pink and pouty tempt you again. You swallow the lump in your throat, and ignore the desire gnawing at the pit of your stomach a little bit longer. Still, your hand reaches out, and you drag your finger softly against his cold bottom lip.

Luffy nips at your finger, trapping it between his teeth lightly. You wiggle it trying to release it. Luffy does so quickly when you squeal, tapping it gently with his popsicle.

“Stop that, unless you’re trying to make me kiss you.”

You choose silence. Luffy turns to look at you, popping his popsicle back in his mouth. He leaves it there as he watches you. He always had a hard time reading you. Luffy didn’t like to think. He liked simplicity, and spontaneity. He always had fun with you, but when you grew quiet it always scared him. It made him think he had done something wrong. This time; however, there’s a certain familiar look in your eyes. Luffy reaches out and pinches your cheek lightly, his popsicle melting slightly down his chin.

You grab his hand before he can pull it away, and hold it against your cheek. Luffy feels his heart seize when you close your eyes, when you tenderly press your face against the palm of his clammy hand and nuzzle it. There’s a tug at the pit of his belly, the one that tells him to devour you, to fill you with kisses, to touch every inch of your skin until you’re delirious in his hold.

“I missed you,” you whisper to him, and kiss his fingers one by one.

Fire was deadly in summer, especially when there was no rainy season; when there’s only been drought. It had been a week since he last kissed you, held you, he was parched–and you were just stoking the fire.

“Did you now?” he quips around his popsicle. You look up at him through your lashes, your own dark brows drawing together. Luffy tries not to laugh, truly, but you’re so cute when you’re mad he can’t help it. “You’re not acting like someone who missed me.”

You drop his hand unceremoniously, embarrassed that you even let yourself be this vulnerable with the pigheaded young man you called boyfriend.

“How exactly am I supposed to act then?” you spit, scrunching up your nose in irritation. Luffy chortles, shoulders shaking in unison. It only serves to make you further annoyed. “Just forget it!”

You sit up, trying to put some distance between each other. You were embarrassed at having been the first one to say it, and now Luffy was behaving like a smug idiot. Your face feels hot as if it was on fire, and you slap your cheeks with both hands hoping to wake yourself up enough to have some kind of clever retort.

Luffy, once again, doesn’t give you a chance. He sits up too, and whines like a child as he places his chin on your shoulder.

“What are you getting mad for?” he mumbles playfully, looking up at you through his lashes. You glance down at your shoulder through your nose, trying your best haughty look on him but you are disarmed by the warmth of his big brown eyes. “I missed you too.”

His words relax your shoulders, and you breathe out noisily through your nose. It does nothing; however, to make you feel less embarrassed and it does nothing for your increasing sexual desire.

Luffy is holding the popsicle on his hand, and you watch the trail of blue trickle down his wrist and forearm. It drips slightly on his shorts, not that Luffy seems to mind.

“Hey,” he says, his voice taking in a deep hoarseness that turns your skin hot. “I want you to show me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Luffy leans back on the hammock, and holds the popsicle over his chest. It drips on his skin slowly, blue on brown.

“Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”

You’d be a liar if you said you loathed Luffy’s games. There was always something he was up to, there was always a gamble, and an ambiguous prize to win. It made it all the more satisfying when you did.

“Okay,” you tell him, slithering yourself over him. You watch Luffy adjust his hips, and a sly smirk tugs at the corner of your plush lips. You know he’s already probably at half mast just at the idea of you over him, of what’s to come.

“Hurry,” he whispers to you urgently, so quietly, the blowing wind almost steals his voice away. “It’s melting.”

You open your mouth to taste the melted popsicle on his skin. You suck loudly on the spots they lay on, making sure to flatten your tongue as you do so. You can taste the saltiness of his skin, smell the vague scent of sweat. You take in a deep noise breath through your nose as you slide your tongue around his muscular chest, lapping up the dripping popsicle that slides over the curves of his muscles.

“That’s it, chula,” he tells you, his voice husky and sultry. Luffy lowers the popsicle, leaving a blue trail of cold liquid down his abs. You watch him shiver at the sensation, his eyes fluttering close, head snapping back. You smile, watching him tease himself, edge himself beyond reason. “Keep going.”

You lower yourself off the hammock and onto the ground. You’re wearing shorts, which had you known what would happen you would have worn something different instead; more accessible. The pebbles on the dirt bite into the skin of your knees but you pay it no mind. Instead you focus on cleaning up the sticky mess Luffy has made of himself. You slide your hands up the sides of his torso, enjoying the slippery warm sensation of his skin slick with sweat.

Luffy shudders underneath you, a soft grunt floating past his lips.

Your hunger grows at the sound of him. Your kisses become messy, desperate. You dig your teeth into his side, biting down. Luffy barely holds back a moan, but by the way his core tightens you know he’s loving it as much as you do. As you nip at the space under his belly button, his happy trail tickling your nose, his erection becomes all the more evident. It pokes out from under his shorts, pushing against your throat.

“Nnhg,” he grunts, his hips moving slightly as he starts to hump up at nothing. “Mm, you missed me that much?” You smile against his skin, your teeth catching on his side again. Luffy reaches out, and grabs a fitsful of your curls. “You’re so cute. I want to eat you up so bad.”

You giggle, wishing he would do that already if that’s what he wanted but it seemed Luffy had other things in mind. Just as you were reaching for the button of his shorts, Luffy sits up, half melted popsicle still in his hand.

“Wait,” he says breathless, pretty shiny eyes unfocused. You smile up at him, although your expression is quizzical. His dark berry lips are blue tinted, and his brown skin is adorned with faint blue freckles and spots. “Open your mouth first.”

You blink, unsure of what he was planning now, but you were in too deep to question him although part of you knows you should. You tilt your head and try to gather your curls away from your face. Luffy helps you with his free hand, and when you open your mouth he slides the popsicle in.

You frown down at it, and at him, but when he makes no move to remove it, you gently close your lips around it. Luffy chuckles softly–a perverse satisfaction that makes his nether regions stiffen even more. He knows you hate the 'blue flavor’ he insists on but he can’t help it. You look so pretty when you have something in your mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. Luffy slowly pushes the popsicle in and out of your mouth.

“Come on, bebé,” he pouts. Luffy even throws in a petulant frown. “Play with me. Pretend it’s me.”

You cough as he pushes it all the way in, gagging slightly on the blue popsicle. In order to persuade him to stop, you grab his wrist, and curl your tongue around the popsicle. If it melted quickly, Luffy would end this silly game and give you what you really wanted. Luffy smiles at your eagerness, at the way you lap and suck on the popsicle. He watches with furious admiration the way the blue liquid oozes down your chin and neck. His tongue dips out to lick his chapped lips. He feels parched, thirsty, even though he had been sucking on that same popsicle just moments ago.

He lets go of your hair to wipe at your chin with his thumb. He keeps pushing the popsicle in and out of your mouth while you continue to suck on it noisily. Luffy watches you, lids heavy and eyes full of lust as he pops his thumb in his mouth.

“You’re all sticky,” he says, fidgeting in his seat on the hammock. You give him a seductive look over the popsicle, one that makes him want to tear your clothes off. You knew exactly what to do to make him crazy. Luffy, not one to give up so easily, uses the remainder of the popsicle to push against the inside of your cheek, stretching your mouth open.

You blink repeatedly, and frown, watching him fumble quickly and clumsily with his free hand. He unbuttons the top of his shorts, and you hear the zipper come down.

“What are you doing?” you ask, with your mouth stretched, your cheek turning icy cold as he keeps the popsicle there.

“I’m making room for me, mami,” he says as you watch him whip out his cock. “What else?”

Luffy squeezes the tip of his cock, and watches your mouth intently. His lips part as he watches the blue drip down the other side of your chin. Luffy shifts to the edge of the hammock, and aims the head of his cock towards your mouth. The moment he shoves the tip in alongside the popsicle in your mouth your eyes grow wide.

Luffy knows he shouldn’t laugh at you. That you never enjoyed it especially when you were both having sex, but you look so cute and funny there was no way he could hold back. You bring out your hands to slap his knees, but Luffy has a hold on the back of your head now. He lifts his hips from the hammock at a steady pace, fucking up into your mouth.

You hold on to his knees for dear life, feeling conflicted at the feel of his warm cock filling up your mouth. You do your best to suck him up, to slurp and curl around his erection. The popsicle starts melting faster, it’s sticky sweetness coating everything in your mouth. You cough, and your eyes tear up as you choke both on Luffy’s cock and the popsicle juice.

Luffy grunts as he watches you. He bites on his lower lip when your eyes fill with tears. He had never tried this before, but the sensation was far from unpleasant. There was something about the coldness of the popsicle, the way part of your mouth had turned frigid and how now slowly everything was starting to warm up–to heat up.

Suddenly, Luffy pulls you off of him and takes out the mostly melted popsicle. He pops it in his mouth.

“Don’t stop now, mi amor,” popsicle still in his mouth, he tells you breathlessly, eagerly, as he grabs your head again. Luffy brings your head down suddenly over his cock before you can even form a sentence. “You have to finish before anyone sees.”

You’re reminded now how you’re the open, as he slams the head of his cock against your throat. You grip his knees tightly, as yours dig deeper into the ground of Luffy’s backyard. Yes, you were at his house, but it was still outdoors. Yes, there were sparse trees all around you, a chain fence and some shrubbery, but just behind those was one of the main roads of your little neighborhood.

If anyone was paying a modest amount of attention, they could see the entire show you were putting on for the birds, and the blade of grass in Luffy’s backyard.

It was better not to think about it. Instead you focused on the slickness seeping into your underwear. How sensitive you were now to the lining of the inside of your denim shorts. You wiggle as Luffy continues to fuck your mouth, trying to get some friction between your legs, anything to give you some relief. You hum and moan around him, your grip on his knees softening, as you slide your hands over his thighs. Luffy pants softly, his breathing becoming erratic.

“Y-y-your hands are soft, baby,” he murmurs in a daze, his face looking up at the sky.

The sun peeks through the green leaves of the branches, and he closes his eyes to the view, wanting to only focus on the sensation of your mouth; the pleasure it was bringing him. You grip his thighs, and let your fingers slide towards the inside of his legs, under the legs of his shorts. You drag your nails down against the sensitive skin of his thighs, as you flatten your tongue against his shaft and give a particularly powerful suck.

Luffy cries out, almost dropping the popsicle stick from his mouth, and lifting his hips entirely. You shut your eyes tightly, as he slams against the back of your throat, taking away your air. Luffy holds the position there, biting down on the wooden popsicle stick to keep from moaning. Your mouth fills up with hot cum, and you swallow it quickly, not wanting it to linger on your tongue. It takes a moment for Luffy to let up, it isn’t until you slap his knees repeatedly, that he pulls out.

A breezy laugh taking up the heated space between you.

“Wow, mi bebé,” he says happily, pulling you up onto his lap. You let him cuddle you, allow him to dust the dirt and pebbles off your scratched up knees. “That was so good, maybe I should go away more often.”

You grab one of his ears and pull it. “No seas pendejo.”

Luffy laughs and bends at the waist. He drops kisses on your injured knees.

“Okay, okay, I won’t go anywhere,” he mumbles against your knee, looking up at you through his lashes. You fold immediately, unable to deny him anything when he looks at you with those doe brown eyes of his; soulful and bottomless. “Sorry about your knees.”

You shake your head lighty, and card your fingers through his dark hair.

“It’s fine. It was worth it.” Luffy chortles, his shoulders shaking as he licks one of your knees playfully.

“I thought so too!”

#luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece smut #luffy smut #fic request #for the cummunity!#it's summer of smut over here

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subskz · 1 year

Text

sun - l.f

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub felix, dom reader, virgin felix, friends to lovers, nipple play, grinding, praise, soft smut, reader’s sex is unspecified

word count: 4.8k

The sound of rain pattering against your window caught your attention, and you craned your neck to peer through the glass. The sky had turned a deep shade of gray without you even realizing it, a strong wind blowing through the trees outside that promised a heavy shower.

Deciding to check the forecast, you unlocked your phone and opened up the weather app, frowning when you saw that it was set to storm for at least another hour. As if to confirm the prediction, a sudden rumble of thunder shook your apartment, making you jolt slightly.

You shuffled over to your couch and sat down with a huff, at loss for what to do. Though you didn’t have any plans for the weather to have ruined, you couldn’t help but feel a bit wistful—like you were missing out on something.

As if in tune with your shift in mood, the rain began to fall at a more steady pace, quickly covering the glass of your window in droplets.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky for good measure, and you curled up against the cushions. As you did so, you spotted an orange object laying on the floor nearby. You squinted curiously before recognizing it, and a small smile formed on your face.

It was Felix’s Kakao Friends plushie, more specifically, his Ryan one. He must’ve left it behind when he and Seungmin had come over a few days ago.

You reached for the stuffed lion, leaning off the couch slightly in the process. It was soft to your touch, and Felix’s familiar scent flooded your nostrils as you took it in your hold. You wrapped your arms around the plushie, an unmistakably warm feeling spreading through your chest at the thought of its owner.

Another rumble of thunder passed, and with Felix now on your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing. He tended to get nervous during thunderstorms, and you hoped for his sake that he’d be able to find something to comfort him until it was over.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed against your thigh. You pulled it out of your pocket hastily, brightening when you saw that you’d received a text from the boy in question.

lix ☀️🐣: hey, are you free rn?

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the message. Trying to contain the excitement that bubbled up within you, you typed out a response.

you: yeah, what’s up?

Just seconds later, his reply came, and a grin spread on your face as he confirmed your suspicions.

lix ☀️🐣: do you think you could come over?

you: hmm depends. what’s in it for me?

lix ☀️🐣: wah….is seeing me not enough?

you: awww ofc

you: but a lil smth extra wouldn’t hurt

lix ☀️🐣: wow ㅜㅜ

lix ☀️🐣: ...

lix ☀️🐣: i made cookies~

you: you know the way to my heart mr. lee

you: alright, omw

lix ☀️🐣: see you soon! ^^

Your smile grew wider as you reread the messages, unable to help the way your face heated up over such a simple interaction.

It wasn’t that visiting Felix’s place was a rare occurrence for you—quite the opposite, actually. But despite that, you still felt butterflies in your stomach when you considered the slim chance of getting to hang out with him one-on-one.

Felix had seven other guys living with him, so more often than not, at least a handful of them would be at the dorms as well, meaning privacy wasn’t exactly an option. Not that you really minded—you liked to think you got along with all of them, but spending time alone with Felix was still something you cherished.

You’d long accepted that your feelings for him went beyond the affection you had for the rest of your friends. What had started out as a mutual fondness for each other turned into an unexpectedly strong attachment, and somewhere along the line you’d realized in horror that you’d begun to see Felix in a light that wasn’t so platonic anymore.

The more you were around him, the harder it became to deny. You began noticing things about him that you’d never noticed before—little quirks and mannerisms that endeared you to no end. Like the cute way he’d imitate the people around him, or the way he’d push his tongue into his cheek whenever he was annoyed.

Every one of his features—from his crescent eye smile, to his delicate hands, to his bunny teeth, to his button nose—suddenly became more than just mere details to you. They occupied your mind so much that it became hard to focus around him.

Feeling a bit ridiculous, you let out a heavy exhale and rose from your couch, deciding to change into something a bit more presentable before heading over to Felix’s place. You made your way to your bedroom, head still buzzing with complicated thoughts as you decided on what to wear.

For obvious reasons, you’d tried to keep these troublesome feelings to yourself. It was much more important to you that you maintained your friendship with Felix, no matter how hard it was to be around him without thinking about kissing his freckled cheeks or relaxing into his back hugs without an underlying feeling of dread.

More than anything, you prayed that none of the others had noticed you acting strangely around him. Minho, Chan, and Seungmin stressed you out especially, since they were the most perceptive of the bunch. You wouldn’t put it past them to drop hilariously unsubtle hints about it, or—God forbid—hatch a plan to set you and poor, oblivious Felix up.

The distant rumble of thunder snapped you from your stream of consciousness, urging you to get a move on. You made quick work of gathering up your things, not wanting to make Felix wait any longer than he already had.

On your way out, his Ryan plushie caught your eye once more, causing you to stop in your tracks.

A small, selfish part of you wanted to keep it with you at your apartment, both to serve as a reminder of him and an excuse to invite him back over. Eventually, you decided against it, figuring that it would help comfort Felix to have it in the midst of the storm. You quickly scooped up the stuffed lion and headed out.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the boy’s dorm, and you tried your best to avoid stepping in puddles as you rushed to the entrance of the building. Once you were shielded from the rain, you shut your umbrella and scurried up the staircase, your wet shoes squeaking as you did.

Panting slightly, you gave the door a few knocks, trying to recollect yourself before Felix opened it. He didn’t give you much of a chance, however, as the door instantly swung open and you were greeted with his bright face.

“Hi!” He chirped, his smile as sunny as ever.

You smiled back, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. “Hey, Lix.” You replied, slipping your shoes off before making your way inside. A particularly harsh strike of lightning flashed as you did, and with a squeak, Felix shut the door.

“Storm scare you?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. “Ah...thanks for coming. None of the guys are home, so...I was a little on edge, I think.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly as he spoke, and your pang of sympathy was immediately in conflict with the excitement you felt knowing you had Felix all to yourself.

“It’s only natural for sunshine to hate the rain.” You joked, wondering if it’d be too much to reach out and give his cheek a pinch. Instead of groaning at the corny comment like you’d expected, Felix giggled, that unnaturally high giggle that embodied everything you adored about him.

In a brief moment of panic, you averted your gaze, hoping to keep your face from growing hot. “Anyway, I think I have something that’ll make you feel better.”

Felix watched curiously as you reached into your bag to pull out his plushie. As it came into view, his expression lit up.

“Ryan!” He wailed dramatically, lunging for the stuffed lion in an instant.

Before he could take it into his eager grasp, you pulled it out of reach. “Not so fast.” You stuck out your free hand. “Pay up, Lix.”

Like clockwork, his tongue-in-cheek habit made an appearance, effectively robbing you of the upper hand. You struggled to keep your gaze steady as Felix rolled his eyes, parting his lips slightly as he swiped his tongue across his teeth. “You’re holding my stuffed animal for ransom.” He complained.

You managed to grin in response, and with a huff, the boy led you to the kitchen.

“I made these just a couple of hours ago.” He explained, opening up the container of cookies. “They’re Bang Chan approved.”

Considering that half the stash seemed to be missing, you were more than inclined to believe him. Felix reached in for a cookie before you could, holding it up to your mouth with an enthusiastic look on his face. The action took you by surprise, and you inwardly applauded yourself for keeping your composure as he fed you a bite.

Flavor instantly flooded your tongue, and you let out a satisfied hum. The cookie was the perfect balance of soft and crunchy, and the chocolate chips melted in your mouth in a way that was nothing short of irresistible.

“How is it?” He asked. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, that never changed no matter how many times you tried his baking experiments. His big eyes bore eagerly into yours, searching for some sign of approval.

You savored the taste for a few seconds more before swallowing. “Heavenly,” You announced, licking your lips to emphasize the compliment. “You get better every time.”

Felix’s face broke out into a smile, eyes curving into those happy crescents. “I tried adding less butter this time like you suggested!”

Before you could respond, a particularly loud clap of thunder shook the room, indicating that the weather was getting more severe. Felix stiffened, and pity overtook you when his smile disappeared.

“Why don’t we chill for a bit until the storm passes?” You suggested. “Just you, me, and Ryan.” You wiggled the lion around enticingly, hoping your lighthearted tone would put his mind at ease.

Felix visibly relaxed before taking it from your hold. “Ah...good idea.” He agreed. You gave him an encouraging look, and his expression brightened once more.

Moments later, you and Felix were settled on his bed, his plushie snugly pressed between the two of you. You were essentially squished together due to the minimal space on the mattress, but neither of you minded in the least.

He wasted no time before nestling into you. He locked his hand with yours, and though it felt like the most natural thing in the world, it still made your breath hitch.

Felix’s affectionate nature was something that made your efforts to pretend like you weren’t head over heels for him especially difficult. He was always touching you somehow—resting his head on your shoulder, playing with your hands, hugging you from behind—if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he felt the same way about you as you did him.

Unfortunately, you did know better. Felix was simply a warm-hearted person, filled to the brim with love. You felt a bit guilty indulging in all his touches, but you were at least grateful that you could still share moments like this with him, even if the affection was purely platonic from his end.

You used your free hand to scroll through your phone, browsing the selection of shows on your streaming app. “Anything you wanna watch?”

He let out a thoughtful hum, gripping you a bit tighter as thunder rumbled overhead. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand in an effort to comfort him, once again finding yourself marveling at how oddly cute it was.

“Dunno…” Felix answered, voice mellow. “Kinda just want to stay like this for a bit, if that’s okay.”

He said it so casually, so nonchalantly, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from bursting in your stomach. Of course Felix just wanted to cuddle. Of course he didn’t want to do anything that could distract you from his presence. Of course he would make it as difficult as possible for you to feel even remotely calm around him.

You clenched your jaw, silently cursing your cruel fate, before responding. “Sure.” You mustered up the best smile you could.

Felix rested his head against your shoulder, making a soft, content noise as he did so. You forced your body to relax, suddenly aware of how tense you had become, and continued running your thumb up and down his hand as the sound of his slow breathing filled the room.

“Thanks again for coming.” He murmured.

You softened at that, lowering your guard. “Don’t mention it.”

Your eyes were still lingering on his delicate hand in yours, and without thinking, you brought it up to your lips, giving it a quick kiss.

Felix froze next to you, and your heart fully dropped as you realized what you’d done.

Panic filled the space your heart left behind in your chest. A kiss went beyond your typical intimacy with each other, and no matter how touchy Felix was, you knew he’d realize that as well.

Your brain immediately scrambled to come up with some sort of explanation, some kind of way to play this off before everything was completely and utterly ruined.

Before you could get out whatever weak excuse you’d come up with to salvage one of the most important relationships in your life, Felix lifted his head from your shoulder. Goosebumps rose on your arms as he came to face you, his dark eyes locking with yours

He was blushing, more than you’d ever seen him blush before, cheeks practically glowing pink. Despite that, his stare didn’t waver, and you shivered lightly as you were reminded of just how intense it could really be—like he could see right through you.

“Felix,” You began, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed.

Your words died in your throat, and you were certain that you owed your heart an apology for all the stress it’d undergone today. Felix’s gaze flickered down to your lips as he waited for you to say something.

In the midst of all the tension, the only thought that came to your mind was how clearly you could see each and every freckle on his face.

You surged forward, crashing your lips into his.

Felix’s squeak of surprise quickly transformed into a sweet, borderline angelic sigh. You kissed him deeply, not leaving any room for him to doubt how you felt about him, and with the way he melted into you, any remaining doubts you had were quelled.

His lips that you’d spent so much time dreaming about felt better than anything your imagination could conjure up. They were soft and plush and moving against yours with a clumsy sort of enthusiasm. Felix whimpered slightly as the kiss grew more passionate, reaching forward to grab onto your shirt. Your own hand found his hair, running through the soft locks and feeling them slip through your fingers just like you’d always longed to do.

When you finally pulled back for air, the both of you were panting lightly. Felix’s lips were parted as he caught his breath, making them look so irresistible that you had to stop yourself from leaning in all over again.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You murmured.

Felix swallowed hard, and before you could process what he was doing, he lifted himself off the mattress and into your lap. He draped his legs over yours, his shy expression contrasting the boldness of his actions in a way that made your mind reel.

“Me, too.” He admitted. “I spent so much time thinking about it…imagining what it’d be like to kiss you. I just never—” He bit his lower lip. “Never had the guts to, I guess.”

“Seems like we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.” You giggled, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

Felix nuzzled his nose into you, letting out a small whine. You immediately took the hint, tilting your mouth upward to lock it with his once more.

The kiss grew heated again in no time, and when Felix parted his lips wider for you, you took the chance to slip your tongue in his mouth. He moaned softly, his responsiveness sending a chill down your spine that made you hungry for more of his reactions.

You brought your hand back to his hair, this time tugging at it with purpose. Felix whimpered as you took his bottom lip between your teeth and began to nibble gently. His hips involuntarily pushed into yours, and your breath hitched when you noticed with a start how hard he’d become in such a short amount of time. You sucked on his lower lip for a second longer before pulling back, leaving a thin trail of saliva to connect your mouth with his.

“Felix,” You murmured, trying to get him to meet your gaze. He ducked his head, mortified that you’d become very aware of his growing problem.

You took his chin in your hands, tilting his face towards you. “Lixie,”

The nickname was met with a sharp intake of air, and you felt his pulse race wildly beneath your fingertips.

“Are you okay to keep going?” You checked.

There was a pause, and for a moment, you wondered if he was having second thoughts. You searched Felix’s eyes, wide as moons, for some semblance of discomfort

“I want to,” He breathed. “I want to so bad. But I’ve just never…um…” He cut himself off suddenly, burying his face in your neck out of embarrassment.

You stayed quiet, waiting to see if he meant what you thought he meant.

He made a cute, frustrated noise, steeling himself to continue. “I’ve never ah...done anything like this before.” He mumbled into your skin.

His words admittedly caught you by surprise. Though Felix so naturally embodied a certain air of innocence, you’d always assumed he was far more experienced than he’d let on. There were moments here and there, little things that he’d do, that made you believe he knew exactly how desirable he really was.

But they came in flashes, so quick that you weren’t sure if it just was your own lovesick mind playing tricks on you. After all, in your eyes, no one was more desirable than him

You rested your hand on his neck, trying to ignore the strange giddiness bubbling up inside you. “It’s okay,” You reassured him. “We don’t have to go any further.”

Felix pulled back, puffing out his freckled cheeks, and you nearly cooed over how adorable the sight was. “But I want to,” He protested. “I just don’t know if I can be...good for you.”

The way he spoke those words, as if he longed for your approval more than anything else in the world, set something off in you.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” You soothed. “I’ll take care of you, baby boy.”

Felix shuddered, and the low whine that escaped him wasn’t lost on you. “Hm...you like being called that?” You hummed, your breath tickling his skin.

“M-mhm.” Felix managed, not trusting the steadiness of his voice enough to say anything else.

He jolted as you attached your lips to his neck, sucking at a spot of skin before trailing wet kisses along it. “That’s what you’re gonna be from now on, yeah?” You bit down gently, relishing in the cute whimper it elicited from him. “My baby boy.”

“O-oh God, please,” Felix mewled, tilting his head to the side to expose his throat to you. He began to rock his hips, and your hands slipped down to his waist to grab a hold of it. “Make me yours, please.”

His begging made your spine tingle, urging you to suck more intently right above his collarbone until a deep red mark was left on his soft skin. You felt his length, now fully hard, pushing against you as he squirmed around in your lap.

Deciding to tease him a bit more, you brought a hand up to his chest, trailing your index finger over his clothed nipple. Felix fully gasped at that, and you lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “Sensitive?” You purred, repeating the action.

He bit down on his lip to suppress another pitiful sound. “N-never been touched there.” He stammered out, thoroughly overwhelmed by all the new sensations. The movement of his hips grew stronger as you toyed with his nipples through the fabric, relishing in every one of his reactions.

You halted the movements of your fingers to lower your head, instead wrapping your lips around the delicate area. The heat of your mouth seeped through his shirt, and Felix’s voice spiked in pitch as he cried out. He grinded down against you desperately, gripping your shirt like his life depended on it.

“You’re so cute, Lixie.” You moved to his other nipple, kissing it tenderly through the material. In contrast to your gentle lips, you grazed your teeth over the hard bud, and Felix let out a moan so sinful that you felt yourself twitch. He bucked his hips in an adorably honest reflex, his body begging you for some kind of friction.

It wasn’t until you heard a weak mewl of your name that you finally pulled back to check on him. “Everything alright?” You asked softly.

Felix nodded, taking a moment to collect himself. “Better than alright,” He answered breathlessly. “It feels s-so good but…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

“But?” You encouraged.

He played with the hem of your shirt as he tried to find his words. “Wanna do more…” He admitted, tilting his head to let his hair fall into his face. “It’s s-so hard that it hurts.”

Your lips curved into a delighted smirk, and you moved your hand down to cup Felix’s clothed length at last. The groan he let out didn’t disappoint as you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Poor baby,” You murmured. “You’re not used to all this, hm?”

An embarrassed noise escaped the boy, but he nodded nonetheless. “Let’s make it better.” You said sweetly. “Lie down for me.”

Felix instantly obeyed, shifting himself off your lap and settling down on his mattress. You slipped a pillow underneath his head before giving his cheek an affectionate pat. “Good boy. I’m gonna take these off now, okay?”

He swallowed audibly as you tugged at the waistband of his shorts. “Okay.” He agreed.

You slipped the garment off with ease, revealing the small, wet stain of precum that had formed on his underwear. Felix’s thighs trembled in anticipation as you traced your index finger along them, admiring the faint freckles adorning his skin.

“Please,” He inched his hips up ever so slightly, inviting you to have your way with him. The action effectively crumbled the last of your patience, and without wasting another moment, you removed his underwear as well.

Felix hissed as he sprung free, instinctively bringing his hands down to cover his bare length. You stopped him, taking his wrists into your hold and pushing them to the side. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” You chided gently. “Not when you’re this beautiful.”

After all the time you’d spent being far too careful of your every move around him, holding yourself back no matter how difficult it was in fear of crossing the line, you felt a physical weight lift off your chest being able to speak those words freely.

They made his face flush a deep red, and before he could shy away again, you took his cock into your grip. It twitched in relief as you wrapped your fingers around it, making it evident that Felix hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told you how hard he’d become.

“How cute,” You cooed, smearing the precum that had gathered around his head. “Everything about you is so precious.”

Felix whined desperately, pushing his hips up into your hold. You drank in the sight of him, marveling at how far gone he looked already. His hair was disheveled, sticking out adorably in all directions, his lips were red and swollen, and his starry eyes were clouded with arousal.

After toying with his tip for a few more moments, you readjusted your position, lowering yourself directly against his length. Felix inhaled sharply, a hint of concern crossing his features. “Wh-what about you?” He asked meekly, noticing for the first time that you were still very much clothed.

“I said I was gonna take care of you, didn’t I?” You reminded him, entwining your fingers with his. “Don’t worry about me.”

Slowly, you began to grind down onto him, sliding your covered core up and down his cock. Felix’s moans began to pour out of him in an instant. The texture of your clothes against his sensitive length was new and intoxicating, and he squeezed your hands to ground himself as the rest of him writhed helplessly beneath you.

“Is it good, angel?” You checked, suppressing a moan of your own as his cock pressed against you.

Felix’s mouth hung open, a slew of sinful noises slipping past his pretty lips. “Yes!” He cried, jerking his hips up. “Love it...hah...feels amazing.”

His cries of pleasure urged you on, and you began to rock your hips more aggressively. The friction of your movements caused a delicious heat to build up where your cores met, steadily building up pressure in your lower abdomen.

“I can’t believe I get to see you like this.” You murmured, affection seeping into your voice. “All laid out for me...it feels like a dream.”

Felix whimpered amidst the deep breaths and groans, and the adorable sound tugged at your heart. “I’ve wanted this for so—ngh—long,” He stuttered out, digging his nails into the back of your hand. “Wanted y-you for so long.”

Judging by how worked up Felix had already become, not to mention how unfamiliar this kind of stimulation was to him , you knew his orgasm would be rapidly approaching. You gave an especially hard roll of your hips, grinding against him in just the right way and making him sob in pleasure.

“P-please,” He begged, voice growing hoarse. “Again, please d-do that again.”

His frantic request was like music to your ears, and you were quick to comply. “Such a polite boy.” You praised. “You like having your pretty cock pressed up against me?”

Felix groaned pathetically in response, eyes squeezing shut and head lolling to the side. He began calling out your name, and that coupled with the way his length spasmed against your core told you that he’d be coming undone soon.

You leaned down to press your lips against his, eagerly swallowing up his moans. Felix’s whole body quivered, becoming more overwhelmed by the second as you slid your tongue against his to create an electrifying pleasure.

Suddenly, he threw his head back to gasp out. “Ah…feels good! ‘M g-gonna cum!”

He was barely able to warn you in time before his orgasm washed over him, his body stiffening and hips surging upward. You continued to kiss him hungrily through his high, relishing in the whimpers that escaped him between the wet smacking of lips. His seed splattered against both your stomach and his, and you kept up the rocking of your hips to squeeze out every drop.

Only when the last few waves of pleasure had jolted through Felix’s body did you pull away, not wanting to overstimulate him when he was so sensitive to begin with. The room was quickly filled with the sound of your shared, heavy breathing, and though you hadn’t climaxed yourself, a feeling of bliss overtook you.

Felix’s eyes remained squeezed shut as he came down from his high, only fluttering open when you untangled your fingers from his. He gazed up at you as you cupped his face, and the reality of the situation came crashing down on you when you were met with a look of unmistakable adoration.

“I love you.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and despite everything that had just unfolded, you still felt yourself panic.

He didn’t give you much time to worry about your sudden proclamation, however, because his face instantly broke out into that familiar, sunny smile. “I love you, too.” He giggled, burying his face into your palms.

Though everything had changed, the warm feeling that spread through your chest remained the same. As you lifted yourself off of Felix to pull him into your arms, you noticed for the first time that the storm had passed and the sun had come out once again.

#skz smut #sub!skz #dom!reader #sub!felix #felix smut

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