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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months

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relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light.

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look.

“Hello to you too...”

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?”

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?”

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest.

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!”

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and--

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening.

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look.

“I’m literally offering to help you.”

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?”

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air.

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.”

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters.

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...

But the essay...

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands.

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled.

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.”

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently.

Oh?

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face.

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down.

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.”

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush.

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies.

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-”

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh.

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly.

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.”

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?”

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More?

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right.

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?”

You flush.

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“I made you cum three times, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear.

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.”

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.”

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Who’s that for?”

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan.

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable.

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in.

“Look at that,” he breathes.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them.

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance.

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more.

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently.

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather.

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!”

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit.

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well.

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.”

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming.

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want.

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster.

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest.

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.”

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry.

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins.

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip.

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying.

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down.

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.

“Feel better?”

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt.

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?”

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.”

“What kind of tears?”

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you.

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—”

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow.

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diejager · 2 months

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First of all HEYYY I love ur work smmmm I read almost every. single. day. So I have anemia (iron deficiency) and I'm always super cold and pale. Like my body barely produces any heat. Sometimes I don't even realise how cold I actually am like I just look in the mirror and realise my lips are blue and I look like a zombie. So I was wondering if u could do like a Ghost x cold reader like with the blue lips and nails and everything ykkkk?? And to be sum like they end up having to stay in a safe house together cause they're snowed in and the radios don't work or wtvvvvv and the heats brokennnn OMGGG and there's only one bed😭😭😭😭🤌🤌 I would love that sm tbh and again LUV UR WORK

Cw: fluff, humour?, anemia, snowed in, mention of hypothermia, cold, one bed trope, tell me if I missed any.

You hated the cold as much as you hated snow despite how lovely you remembered it was, to feel the soft and cool flakes fall on your face and staring off into the landscape. You couldn’t help feeling some sort of aversion towards the cold when your condition made you nearly vacant of any heat, extremities turning blue or purple if you didn’t regulate your own tempature. But the thing you hated the most, was being stuck and snowed in a safe house without any communication from Laswell and a broken heater.

At the very least, you had company, sent off to Siberia with Ghost by your side, a man that burned higher than anyone you’d ever met. Perhaps he was the best option out of everyone, someone you got along with and enjoyed his jokes. That left you shivering under many layers of warm blankets, a bundle on the single bed that the safe house had. Oddly enough, it had enough food to feed a team of ten powerful and hungry men for an extended amount of time, space for many to roam around, but it had one single bed in the whole facility.

Not that it minded you, you were as close to him as you were with the other men, a gentle friendship that often led to idiotic decisions and humourless jokes (more so on his side than yours). You watched him move around the room, securing the windows before he did the same to the rest of the house, checking the locks and insuring that both of you would be safe for the night; and when he was sure everything was secure enough, he climbed into bed, slipping under your pile of blankets. Ghost held you against his chest, an arm under his head and the other around your waist, keeping you close to him to share his heat with you, to relieve you of your shaking and shuddering, and breath coming out in frozen vapour.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost,” you quipped, wanting to take your mind off the numbing cold and your low iron count.

“What does a doctor ask a snowman?” He started after a few seconds of thinking, a lightness in his tone.

“What?” You raised your brows, burying your face into your blanket burrito and squirming until he got tired of it and tightened his hold on you.

“And you say you’ve been erect for 4 hours?” He ended with a low chuckle, laughing at his own joke. He was shamelessly proud of it, apparently.

You blinked owlishly, lips pursed as you mumbled lowly, huffing through your nose with a quick sigh, worming around to stare at Ghost. Even with the mask on, you could see the softened expression through his eyes, his darkened eyes gleaming with mirth and innocent joy.

“That was bad,” you pouted, narrowing your eyes a him.

“Oh? But you laughed,” he grumbled.

“Because it was bad.”

“Yeah, now shut up and sleep.”

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secondcupforyou · 3 months

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seventeen as horrible pick-up lines, a carat/valentine’s day special 🩷🩵

disclaimer, this is purely for entertainment purposes and does not reflect who seventeen are as people.

pairing! ot13 (separate) x gender neutral! reader

warnings! light swearing

word count! ~1k words total

author’s note! i found a list of horrible pick-up lines and couldn’t stop myself…

Seungcheol

“I can't taste my cherry lip gloss! Can you give it a try?”

“Huh? Like you want me to try it out?” you asked as you rummaged around your bag. You had been trying to find your phone to get directions for the restaurant you got reservations for. After you found it, you looked up to see Seungcheol’s pouty face. At that, you realised he was probably asking for something less explicit. “Oh, was that you asking to kiss me? You should have been more clear.”

Jeonghan

“Are you iron? Cause I don’t get enough of you.”

”Last time I checked, I wasn’t Iron Man, so I would check somewhere else.” you joked. However, you weren’t fully expecting the whining that would come after it. As you began to laugh at his reaction, Jeonghan’s complaining got louder. Through broken laughs, you tried to speak, “C’mon, I know you could do better than that.”

Joshua

“On a scale of 1 to America, how free are you this weekend?”

You looked up from your textbook as you heard Joshua’s voice. The two of you were supposed to be working on a project your professor had assigned you for the week. As you looked into his eyes, his small smile irked you just enough to complain: “Can’t you ask like a normal person? If you did, then maybe I would be free.”

Before he could respond, you began to work on the assignment once again.

Jun

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

You had lost track of the amount of times Jun had used different pick-up lines throughout the day. It started when you first saw each other today, and it hasn’t stopped since. While it was endearing for you, you could also see the annoyance building up from your friends. With a quick laugh, you leaned into his ear to whisper, “I would stop before one of them ends up punching you.”

Soonyoung

“This date is like a big bowl of Frosted Flakes. It’s grrrrrrrrreat!”

When Soonyoung said this to you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was because of his complete seriousness as he looked you straight in the eyes, or maybe it was because of the silence that filled the room before. Either way, you weren’t expecting him to tell you a stupid pick-up line.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you were finally able to ask as your laughs began to calm down.

Wonwoo

“Good thing I have a library card, because I'm checking you out.”

Maybe it was because you were at the library that this was so cheesy, but you don’t think it would change much. He quickly moved to continue browsing through the books on the shelves; however, you could see a hint of blush lie across his cheeks. It made you smile.

“Ya’ know,” you began, “if you didn’t read books, then this would have been more awkward.”

Jihoon

“To quote the poet Lee Woozi, ‘Even if my lips are dry, I need to say this, baby: I adore you.’”

“Did you just use your own song to try to pick me up?” you said as you attempted to close the door to his studio. You had just ran to get some snacks from the convenience store before the two of you worked on music for the night, so your hands were filled with snacks. After watching you struggle a bit with the door, Jihoon got out of his chair to close the door for you. You whispered a small ‘thanks’ before setting them down on the table.

Seokmin

“I thought happiness started with ‘h,’ but turns out it begins with ‘u.’”

“And my happiness begins with ‘seok’ and ends with ‘min,’” you laughed as you brought the cup of coffee to your lips. Looking up from your cup, you saw Seokmin’s bright smile at your joke; however, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it. “That joke was so awkward. I’m sorry.”

Mingyu

“Can I get your soccer jersey? I really want your name and number.”

At first, the line went over your head. One, you don’t play soccer. Two, Mingyu already had both your name and number. Three, why would Mingyu even use a pick-up line while talking to you? Though, the longer you took to respond, the more he began to pout.

As you watched him sulk, you came to the realisation quickly, “Oh, wait, that pick-up line was directed at me?”

Minghao

“Are you a parking ticket? Cause you've got fine written all over you.”

Minghao’s face was distraught, almost as if he was currently questioning his sanity. The sight of it was comedic. You slowly began to laugh at the situation, asking the question, “Who dared you to say that?”

Once you asked that, you could see the relief on his face.

Seungkwan

“If you're a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple.”

“Damn, does that mean it’s cannibalism for me to eat pineapples,” you said as you picked a bunch of bananas. You and Seungkwan had been shopping for your groceries for the week as you had just run out of cooking ingredients. After checking the quality of the bananas, you put them in the cart you were pushing around. “Good thing I like tangerines then.”

Vernon

“Did I tell you I'm filthy rich and my mother's dead?”

“Okay, yeah, that is pretty bad,” you admitted as you picked up a piece of chocolate. The two of you had been reading through lists of pick-up lines to try to find the worst one. At first, it started as a bit of a competition, but you had slowly lost the competitiveness of it. Scrolling through your phone, you tried to find one that was just as bad to beat Vernon’s. “What about this one…”

Chan

“Math is so confusing. It's always talking about x and y and never you and I.”

“I know that was a pick-up line, but I feel like using the variables ‘u’ and ‘i’ would make it worse, “ you said as you finished up the math problem in your textbook. Chan laughed as he grabbed a pencil sharpener from your pencil case. “No, like, seriously. Imagine writing them even just a little bit differently then, all of sudden, it is a 0 or a 1.”

mirajane’s rambles! i actually have no idea how i did this in a couple hours. my found this website where they were referring to pick-up lines as “rizz” lines, and i spiralled lmao. i had fun tho

happy valentine’s and carat day, everyone! <33

all likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated!

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johnwickb1tsch · 13 days

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 31 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

Maybe it’s silly, but you feel as though you have a new lease on life, in the days that follow.

John is still undeniably clingy, but so very sweet. It is a much easier form of obsession to bear.

You are still a prisoner, but at least you feel loved.

Perhaps even more precious, you begin to feel safe.

Whatever possessive madness gripped him before seems to have receded for now, and maybe you’re a fool, but you dare hope in time he might make a full recovery.

Now that you’ve reached a sort of understanding, John seems bent on making up for lost time. There is no doubt that you are still his prey, but now he ambushes you with the express intention of making you cum—whether you like it or not.

Again, you find yourself begging him for reprieve, though this time through laughter rather than tears. He swallows your protests with devouring kisses, eating your cries whole as he slides his long fingers inside you and works your clit masterfully with his thumb.

When you complain of your difficulty sitting down, a gift of a hemorrhoids donut pillow appears. You think he meant it as a joke.

John likes to give gifts, you find.

When one day you walk into your studio to find a bejeweled set of headphones bedecked like a crown, you cannot help but grin like an idiot. It is ridiculous what those fucking things cost, and you’d thought you’d been clever about concealing your enchantment with them in Italy, but nothing escapes John Wick’s sharp eye.

When he finds you later wearing your new coronet, singing out of tune while you put paint down on canvas, he presses you into the worktable with his hips and his kisses, going down on his knees before you with a murmur of, “My beautiful queen.” His words make your knees weak, as does his insatiable tongue in your slit. It’s all so much, and when you beg him to take you there on the table he is all too happy to oblige, scattering your pastels in a rainbow of projectiles with a sweep of his arm before driving himself inside you. With legs wrapped around his waist in a desperate effort to hold on, you take the fury of his adoration with a cock-drunk smile.

If you learned anything in the darker times before, it is that this man is a predator to the bone, and no matter what his mood, he loves a good chase. It becomes your favorite game, and it starts one evening when you splash him while doing the dishes. The look of surprise on his face is priceless, and with a screech you run for the stairs.

You only get so far as the living room before he catches you, his arm like a band of iron around your waist hauling you from your feet entirely. It happens too fast to register, but by some form of ninja magic you are suddenly on the floor, the lean length of his body on top of you. On the plush oriental rug with his thick cock inside you, this man makes you see God.

It feels alarmingly, magnificently, terrifyingly, like truly making love.

“Has anyone ever loved you, the way I do?” he demands desperately, filling you impossibly to the brim.

“Never,” you barely manage to answer, the force of his thrust stealing your breath away.

The next question is much more vulnerable.

“Have you ever loved anyone, the way you love me?”

“Never.”

It’s true, and in the softening of his gaze you dare to hope that someday he will believe you enough.

It is surprising, how quickly the time passes. Despite the circumstances, it is not terribly hard to live with John Wick, like this. He is sweet, and loving, and he spoils you rotten. You could almost mistake your relationship for normal—if one didn’t look too hard at the locks on all the doors.

Soon summer is fading, giving way to the golden hours of early fall. You see it out the window, but since your little car ride, you still have not been allowed outside. You’re an outdoorsy girl, and frankly, it’s starting to drive you a little crazy. You find yourself clawing at the impenetrable windows with a sigh.

John’s mood has been steady, but your heart is still in your throat when you dare ask, “John, can we go out?”

He looks up from his book, the fall of his dark hair covering half his face as he cants his head in thought. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but even after all this close proximity, you still find him beautiful. You do not think that will ever change.

“Why?” he finally asks, and you detect the shadow of suspicion in his tone.

“Because I miss it.”

You used to hike every day off you had. Being indoors this long…is doing things to your brain.

You watch as his nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling as he considers this request. You can tell he doesn’t like the thought at all, but you force yourself to stand your ground. He won’t punish you for this, surely? Just for asking?

Of course, he might punish you for what you’ll do later, if the answer is no.

In the end he nods, though more to himself than to you. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it fast? The weather will be turning soon.”

The look he pays you then is less kind, his eyes sharp as glittering obsidian. “I said. I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, assuming the answer is no, and retreat to sulk in your studio. You are painting the view from your favorite outlook on the mountain trail nearby from memory when you start to hear an odd, rhythmic toque…toque sound, over and over.

You go downstairs, searching for the source. No dice in the living room or the kitchen. You follow your ears to the bank of windows off the living room. There’s another door (locked, of course) that leads to a patio. You see John outside…chopping wood? Watching the pine rounds explode under the sharp blade of an axe in his hands shouldn’t be this fascinating, but you find yourself pressed to the window, transfixed. The definition in the muscles of his forearms as he swings down are a sight to behold.

You’re not sure he can see you, the way the glass is mirrored on the outside, but you knock on the widow anyway. He looks up at you with narrowed eyes at first. Then, a small smile. It feels like a little gift, just for you, and it quickens your heart. Watching him do everyday things moves you, and you acknowledge to yourself uneasily for the umpteenth time that you’re in so deep.

As it turns out, the wood was for a little pit fire, which you sit together and watch with a glass of wine that evening out on the patio. The tall trees loom all around you, pitch black outside the ring of your little campfire. It feels so good to be out of the house, but it’s not quite what you wanted. As though he senses that you’re not exactly satisfied with his offering, John tries to distract you with his kisses, laying you down on the outdoor couch to wreck you with his mouth. You make love with your skin bared to the great outdoors, but no one to really see you in your seclusion. Later you snuggle under a soft blanket together.

Sated, you let it go, for now.

-But John doesn’t forget, and one morning he wakes you early with kisses on your ear. “If you want to hike, we have to go now,” he tells you. You have become spoiled in your captivity, no longer at the mercy of coffee house hours, now used to sleeping through the morning after John keeps you up late with his kisses and his beautiful cock, but the offer of getting to really go outdoors has you up and at ‘em in minutes.

You find your old pair of broken-in Merrel hikers in the walk-in closet, and realize John must have accessed your possessions from your previous life at some point. It’s so strange to see them—you realize in the suspended reality of your current situation, you’ve almost written off everything that came before.

There is a distinct mental separation in your personal timeline—BW, and AW; Before Wick, and After Wick.

You have a quick breakfast and coffee before stepping outside, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

You can hardly describe the elation you feel, at last being allowed to walk out that front door like you are almost normal. You are so happy just to feel the morning air on your skin. You stand in the driveway like a simpleton, your face lifted to the sky, soaking in the sun. There is a cool breeze that smells of pine, and it is the sweetest thing you have inhaled in a long time.

John watches your reaction intensely, and you do not think you invent it, when you see a glimmer of guilt in his expressive mocha eyes. Intent on assuring him, you stand on tiptoe, pressing a kiss to his bearded chin with your front flush to his.

“Thank you,” you say, and he relaxes slightly against you, resting his forehead against yours.

You are practically skipping as you hit the trail in his woods that connects to the bigger loop. You cannot help but think about that day in the snow, when you met him, alone, on that very path. How easily he could have had you then. It is another clue that tells you he hadn’t decided yet—or he had not yet cracked.

This early, in the middle of the week, it isn’t likely you’ll meet anyone in the woods. You feel a trill of nervousness, as you wonder what would happen if you did. You have been kept to yourself for so long, the thought of contact with other people out in the world feels strange, a little frightening, even.

As you walk an exuberance overtakes you, fills you head to toe. It almost feels like you’re…free. The only contradiction to that is the tall man in black walking by your side. He has let you have free reign, not insisting on holding on to you. He doesn’t have to, you know. He could just run you down with those delectably long legs of his any time he wanted, surely.

That doesn’t mean the thought of it isn’t titillating, even if you absolutely know you would be destined to lose. Perhaps he truly has broken you at last, but you have come to love the game of chase too. It is your most exciting distraction in your world that is limited to the confines of the Wick cabin.

You are going to be sore the next day, you know. It’s been…forever, since you’ve been able to walk like this. The most exercise you’ve really gotten has been engaging in your sexcapades with John—as much of a workout as that is—it’s a different group of muscles.

Perhaps he does not insist on holding you, but it doesn’t stop you from reaching for him. You squeeze John’s hand in thank you.

Despite everything…it feels like a perfect day.

“Maybe this is far enough for today,” he says as you approach the junction with the main trail, the line of his private property and the park that adjoins it.

Disappointment spears through you. You are not ready to go back into your prison. It’s turning into a beautiful day, and you have so much energy to burn.

You make a pouty face, playing cute while you are flirting with rebellion inside.

“But the overlook is so pretty this time of year,” you insist, batting your lashes. Lately, that’s been enough to get your way on little things in the house. Today you feel like you can’t lose. Everything is too good.

He narrows his eyes down at you, as though he senses your internal mutiny, but in all your elation you feel strangely impervious. You realize you feel high, the kind of mood lift usually people have to ingest pills to get.

“Y/n…” He reaches for you, and without thinking you step just out of reach. You’ve played this game a dozen times now in the house. A game you’ve never, to this day, won, but you’ve found it’s the thrill of a lifetime, to be chased down by this man, trusting he won’t really hurt you. It always leads to mind-blowing sex, and maybe you are thinking a bit too much with a lust-addled brain alongside your elation for the great outdoors.

There is a very pregnant moment between you, and you smile when his intense eyes meet yours, your lips curling in what you know is a shit-eating little grin. What happens next is pure reflex; an extension of a thing you’ve done repeatedly together, with a dash of that age-old ingrained instinct of prey in the presence of a predator. But now you’re outside, and your jubilation is magnified times a hundred.

You run.

“Y/n!”

He lunges for you, his fingertips just brushing your arm, but in the end he’s–amazingly–too slow.

You are a human missile, rocketing down the hill, fueled by gravity and the knowledge of how to move in this environment you’ve trained for since you were just a child. You may as well be a wood sprite, for this is your element. This is your mountain, and no matter how many wealthy interlopers buy it up and carve it into parcels and drive up the price of everything so that locals like you can barely live—this will always be your home.

It feels so good to run.

Your feet fly over the needle-strewn forest floor, jumping over rocks and dodging trees. You laugh like a madwoman, the sweet sweet mountain air filling your lungs. You run like a wild thing of the woods, the way you used to when you were a child, before your parents decided to break the oath they'd made to each other and split your happy world to pieces. While your parents fought you would flee to the trees to be free, and you feel that desperate euphoria again. That feeling like you can fly, jumping over rocks and launching from boulders.

You sense more than hear John behind you, your own ears filled with the rushing of your blood and your racing heartbeat. His fingertips brush your back before you juke him around a tree. You hear him curse and you laugh—you do sound mad.

“Have to do better than that, old man!” you crow.

You realize with another rush that you are far more agile than John is. The trees are your friend, the way you dart around them and power yourself down a new line of retreat. You hear him curse after grazing one, and you realize you might break the poor man’s neck, making him pursue you like this.

In a pine-needle carpeted clearing you make yourself slow down, and you are so high on adrenaline it doesn’t even hurt when he finally tackles you to the ground, your grin like a baring of teeth, giddy from the chase. He pins your hands above your head, sharp pebbles digging into your skin as you laugh.

“What the fuck—” You interrupt him mid tirade with your mouth on his, a hungry kiss that swallows his fury, but does not quench it. Already anticipating the passion of your (and his) reward with his delicious weight pressed down into you, your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him close.

“You think you’re cute?” he snarls above you when at last you separate.

“I am very cute,” you assert, still giggling to yourself. “Don’t be mad. You love this game.”,

“Maybe I’d love to spank that cute ass of yours raw?”

“Nuh-uh. No hitting.”

You’d made a deal, after all.

He narrows his eyes down at you, and this is when you finally start to sense that maybe he is not half as amused as you are. Your blood runs cold, and before you can blink he has you flipped over on your belly, your pants down around your thighs.

“No—”

You try to squirm away, but his inexorable hand is in your hair—it makes for a damn good handle, the bastard. His big hand digging into the globe of your ass makes you quiver under his fingers.

Your heart plummets into freefall, as you realize he’s serious. And you can tell he’s not talking about the playful little smacks he sometimes gifts you in the middle of riding his cock to completion. He means to punish you, and the knowledge takes you from the highest high to the blackest despair. You can barely hear past the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the familiar fear and uncertainty from before creeping in. Not again. Life was so good. Please don’t go back to this shit again. You can’t go back to the way things were. You can’t live like that again.

A revelation settles over you with irrefutable clarity. You accept it as truth with every cell of your being, and you know there will be no going back after this.

“If you hit me we’re done.”

There’s no hint of playfulness in your tone either now. Just…resolve. You mean what you say, to the very marrow of your bones.

“I think I must have confused you, y/n. You are not in charge here.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this. If you hit me, I’ll fight you to my dying breath. I mean it.”

Like watching yourself from the outside, you almost find it interesting that this is the true limit of your generosity with him. This is the cliff’s edge. The point of no return. Your resolve is unmoving, even if it fills you with absolute misery. You could lose him now, today, this very minute. This man who keeps you prisoner, yet with whom you have lived happily the past months. This complicated, broken man, who you love with all your heart.

In this insane moment you realize with soul-shaking clarity…you don’t want to leave him. What would you do with your life? Go back to your stupid little existence at the coffee shop, working your fingers to the bone, doodling on the chalkboard, waiting? You’ve spent most of your life just fucking waiting. Waiting to travel. Waiting for something good to happen. Waiting…for this man to come through the door, so you could pester him for five minutes, knowing it would be the highlight of your day.

Could you possibly go back to looking up at the mountain, knowing your Beast in his castle resides there? That a man who loved you like no other is there pining for you?

But if he crosses this line—you will have to leave, somehow. Or die trying. That is your heartfelt resolution. That is the promise you make to yourself. You’ve made too many compromises as of late, and this is a battle for your very soul.

You feel him like a malevolent storm cloud behind you, trembling in his fury, but for once, torn as to what to do. You realize this is the only time you’ve seen him doubt himself, when he’s contemplating teaching you a lesson.

You dare to try to talk him down, your voice calmer, or perhaps more distant. You don’t know how you muster the courage; perhaps only in the knowledge that this could truly be it for the two of you. No more we’ll see how it goes or maybe it will be better tomorrow. There is only now.

“This thing we’ve somehow built together, despite everything…” You shake your head, trembling as much out of fear as despair. “It will be destroyed, and you’re the one who will have broken it.”

“You’re the one who ran from me!”

You can tell from the hushed fury in his voice that he is hanging on by a thread. You realize now, what a stupid thing that had been to do. That despite the games you’ve been playing in the house, out here, he just couldn’t handle it. Even just the slightest possibility of you leaving is enough to drive this man off the edge.

“I let you catch me.” You will him to believe you. You even half believe it yourself.

“The hell you did.”

“It’s true. I know these woods better than you. I’m smaller. I’m faster. I let you.”

“Bullshit.”

Before you can hardly think about what to do you lower your face to the dirt, offering your ass in the air. You know he can see your puffy slit, your glistening opening just begging for him. This is how he has warped you; or maybe you were a twisted little thing all along, just waiting for him to show you the way to your ruin. Either way—you want him, and you will him to see it for himself.

“I let you catch me,” you insist again. “So give me my reward.”

You feel the tremor run through him, from his fingertips to his core.

You realize that he wants to believe you. That maybe punishing you was never really the fun for him at all, in this deadly game you’ve been playing.

You feel him shift his position behind you, his merciless hold moving to your hip. When his long fingers slide into your wet folds you mewl like a cat; half relieved, and half just needing him. He makes you buck by circling your bud, before delving inside your weeping channel with two of his fingers. It makes you moan, and if someone walks up the trail my god will they get an eyeful, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Does that feel like someone who’s afraid of you?” you bluff. Because wanting this man has never really stopped you from fearing him. Fearing what, exactly, has shifted over time. In the end though, maybe just that he would be the absolute ruin of you.

He only grunts in answer, spreading your juices around your aching pussy. When his fingers withdraw you whine in protest, but you hear him rifle with his clothing, the zzzip of his fly jerked downwards. When his thick tip kisses your entrance you could weep, offering your ass even higher in the air.

“You are a very bad girl,” he tells you as he slides home, making you writhe with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“I’m your bad girl,” you correct him, and he growls behind you, thrusting again. He’s not treating you with the usual care he pays this position, but you take it anyway. Gladly, if this will mend the thing between you, you’ll take it all.

“I would have found you, you know,” he pants as he thrusts, his hand weaving in your hair. “Even if you made it down the mountain…there’s nowhere in the world you can hide from me.”

You absolutely believe him.

“I know,” you tell him, your face in the dirt, yet somehow still loving the feeling of him behind you, filling you absolutely and completely. “You don’t–have to–lock me up, John,” you pant, interrupted by the violence of his thrusts. “Because I know I can’t escape you.”

This makes him growl again, that primal, possessive sound that touches the darkest recesses of your cavewoman brain. It is as though there is no part of you, inside or out, that this man cannot touch. He drapes his long body over yours, engulfing you in the shelter of his warmth. Even now, you cannot stop yourself from leaning back into him, pressing your smooth cheek to his soft beard. His tone is pure gravel, but you know him well enough now to sense the vulnerability in his words too. “But do you want to escape now?” he asks.

“No,” you tell him, and you know in your heart this isn’t manipulation, or vying for a better chance to run somewhere down the line. It’s just the truth, and you even surprise yourself as you say, “No, I don’t want to leave you.”

He goes still behind you as he evaluates this heartfelt confession, his harsh breathing and the pulsing of his cock buried inside you his only movement.

“I want to believe you.” You only enjoy a moment of relief, before he rears again behind you, driving himself into you to the hilt. “But I can’t.”

Your heart plummets as you realize he still cannot bring himself to trust your word, to have the faith to walk out into thin air, the way normal people do when they dare to fall in love. He cannot leave anything to chance with you, and now you are not sure he ever will.

He really might keep you locked up forever.

You feel the earth beneath you, hyper aware of the pine needles in your clenched hands, the wonderful smell of the dirt and ancient rocks below. The cool breeze on your bared skin, and the dappled light filtering through the pines. What if this really is the last time you are ever allowed outside?

There was always a glimmer of hope on the distant horizon for you, that little light of optimism that never quite managed to extinguish, despite everything he put you through. But now you feel it leave you, stealing the integrity from your very bones. You go limp beneath him, only his iron-grip on your hips holding your ass in the air as he uses you. When he reaches down to find your slippery bud you are no longer in the mood, and perhaps foolishly, you try to shake him off.

“Just get it over with.”

You already know it’s the absolute worst thing you can say, but now you don’t care.

“But I thought my darling wanted to enjoy the great outdoors?” He doesn’t sound half as angry as you expected him to, but there is still something sharp in his tone that puts you on edge. Like glimpsing a dorsal fin parting still waters, you know something dangerous swims underneath.

He slows his thrusts behind you, so that his magnificent length stretches you just right without hurting you. He uses his now expert knowledge against you, weaponizing the hours you’ve spent in bed together making up for lost time. You can’t stop yourself from arching into him, canting your hips to intensify the sensation, and now you bow your head so you don’t have to see his smug smile. “Goddamn you.”

He huffs with laughter, though there’s no real humor in it. “You’re too late, I’m sure.”

This time when he touches you, you are desperate for it, your aching walls squeezing him in search of release. It tears a groan from deep in his throat, a sound you know so well by now, and you realize you can use your own knowledge of this man against him too. You squeeze him again, almost in challenge, and it becomes a contest between you, who can bring the other to pieces first. You have to admit that his blunt fingers on your clit are heaven, and your heart pounds too fast in your chest, your head light as you very nearly forget to breathe in your concentration. He tries to hold himself off as you move to take him deeper. He cannot control your body as well as he would like, like this, with his fingers buried in your slit, and you almost smile at his grunt of frustration at you.

In the end you both lose.

You cum so hard on his cock you see stars, a ringing in your ears as a merciless pleasure breaks and explodes through you. He fares no better, filling you with ropes of hot seed as he moans, loud enough to echo across the mountains.

Maybe you do feel a little better, panting in the soft leaf litter with his body draped over yours again, his heavy breathing and soft lips upon your neck. As usual, you feel bereft when he withdraws, wishing you could hold him inside you longer. You didn’t bring anything to clean up with, and you anticipate a soggy walk home back up the hill.

In fact, after sprinting, then fucking like animals on the ground, you’re not even sure you can walk.

It’s John who rises first, groaning with the effort. He glares down at you, as though daring you to make another old man jab. For the moment, however, you are out of quips, out of jokes, and out of clever repartee. Even though you know it shouldn’t be so easy for him to tame you, you snuggle under his chin anyway, kissing the swell of his Adam’s apple. For a moment he sags against you, savoring this sweetness, before brusquely leading you back up the trail.

He is not cruel, or strangely, even outwardly angry now, but somehow you just know you are in so much fucking trouble.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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oogaboogaspookyman · 3 months

Text

@sm-baby

I COULD BE HAPPY WITH SOMEONE NEW BUT MY HEART ACHES

[JUST FOR YOU]

It's been a while, hasn't it?

The office door creaks open

"Heya Pom! Brought back the paper i asked you yesterday?" Jax sounded so cheery. So happy while you just sat there on the chair like a drunkard... Well he's not a romance guy, of course he would be happy on his own. Damn rabbit.

"Not a word? What, still miss Sir Dentures?" He chuckles. He doesn't stop chuckling. What a clown... Thinks the jester. Ironic.

"Hm..."

His smile fades into a sincere frown.

Sigh

"Look here, Pom... It was necessary. He's free, paid for restoring us, we're all good now. No more murder and i got my nice charming scarf back and my favorite brushes, i'm the cool art teacher again!"

"So turn the dumb frown upside down aaaand please give me the paper i asked you? Please and thank you?"

"You're not a romance guy, of course you're fine. [___]hole..."

...

Oh...

"Oh for the love of- the censor is still here?! God darn it, i wanna say the f word for once! I loved doing that!"

You grip onto the table until it began to crack at the memory of him. Him, him, him. That stupid fucking human.

"Pom you may wanna lay off the grip there, i paid a lot for tha-"

A chunk is crushed. Like paper.

...

"Ah..."

Pomni lets go, revealing the chokehold put on the table left a permanent mark.

"Did ya dissociate again? I spoke well 'n clear, i paid a lot for that one!"

"Suck me, rabbit, you can get your s[__]t yourself" Pomni gets up and storms off from the office with no more words.

"Eh... Christ she's not okay..." Jax sighs

"Wonder if things coulda been better?"

Nobody helps at all.

Gangle offered to distract her, have a play, but Pomni wasn't in the mood.

Zooble offered a smoke but she didn't wanna try that kind of stuff.

Bubble is too much of an agent of chaos to give a shit, offered to commit "one (1) arson".

Kinger is just too far gone in his dementia, lucid when it was fucking funny and nothing more...

Nobody helps.

He knew how to help...

Only he knew...

Him...

The door to Ragatha's room creaks open

"Oh hey Pomni! How's your day go... Oh..." Ragatha notices Pomni is not any form of happy, if anything she looks like she's empty inside and wants to die...

"Oh you're not alright... Would you like to talk over tea..?"

"Mm... Will you let me vent properly?" Pomni groaned, still doubting that she won't pull out the whole everything is fine bullshit

"Oh- u-uhm- yes of- of course! Of course, i- i apologize for my past behavior, i really wasn't in my... B- best moments, at the time..." Ragatha stuttered. Don't stutter, you pretentious... ... Anyhow.

"Okay... Do you remember... Caine?" Ragatha already caught wind of the situation...

"The human with the dentures head? Yes, i remember him just fine, he restored us..."

"Yeah..."

"He was a good man, although didn't have the best manners he was alright nonetheless, knew how to make some laugh..." Ragatha and Pomni chuckled at the memory of Caine's wacky way with words. Jumping jellybeans? Seriously? That's a man right there!

A good dude...

"..." Pomni's pupils turned into black scribbles at the thought of him. The chuckling had faded as soon as it started, replaced by...

"I loved that human, if i'm being honest... He knew how to cheer me up, how to make the situation seem less bigger than it actually is... He knew how to kiss, god did he know..." Ragatha let out an "oh my" after hearing Caine kissed her, what else did they do..?!

"He... He was... He's amazing. Just that, amazing..." Pomni sighed, sipping on the tea she's given... "I loved him..." She began to sniff, putting down her cup.

"Oh dearie, come here-" Ragatha put down her cup and welcomed Pomni with open arms, knowing full well she needed to let it out of her system.

And that she did. Pomni got up and hugged Ragatha as tight as she could, and began to sob her lonely heart away, "He loved you too, Pomni, that cannot be denied..." Ragatha spoke as she held Pomni close. The poor jester, so alone...

How ironic.

She has friends, and yet she's lonely.

Caine had filled up a hole nobody could fill, and now that he's gotten out of the game after restoring everyone to their better conditions... That hole is empty once more, a gaping void and nothing to fill it.

How lonely this jester must be...

But it was necessary. He's free now.

#tadc au #the amazing digital carnival #carnival au #spooker's writing #tadc showtime #showtime ship #pomni x caine #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #the rest are only mentioned i ain't tagging them #heehoo funi sad stuff makes me giggle heeheehoo #SoundCloud #curtainfall

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bwabys-scenarios · 8 months

Note

A-Z alphabet for kurapika pls!!!! 🥹🥹🥹

Kurapika NSFW Alphabet!!

I couldn’t find any other templates, but if you have one send me another ask!! ^^

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Kurapika is very attentive and doting after sex. He loves to cuddle, praising his partner for how well they did. He’s quick to jump up and get you anything you want!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Kurapika’s favorite body part of his is his eyes. For a long time, he was insecure about them, but when you’re looking at them with such awe and love, he can’t help but love them as much as you do. He also likes his hands, because he loves touching you.

His favorites parts of you are your thighs and tummy. Kurapika has an affinity for soft things! He loved squishing and squeezing these parts of you, and sleeping on your tummy after a long session is the best feeling ever!!!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Kurapika cums inside you, that’s the only place he can. Even when you give him the occasional blowjob, before he cums he’s pushing you onto your tummy and yanking your panties down to cum inside of you. He doesn’t like wasting a single drop!!

When you two have sex, he’ll often stay inside you for a while after, sometimes even falling asleep. This is so his cum doesn’t leak out!! Honestly, he’s got a huuge breeding kink and wants to get you pregnant as soon as possible!

Also, if he’s feeling particularly horny, he’ll gently push on your tummy so his cum leaks out, and coo at you. “Gonna have to start all over again, look at the mess you made, angel.”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Omg he has a few!!

One is that he’s constantly trying to get you pregnant, and is almost insatiable when you’re ovulating for this very reason. He keeps track of your period and ovulation 🙏

He definitely steals panties. He’s gone for long stretches of time on missions, and he misses you terribly :( a pair of your panties helps him get off without you

Kurapika usually does not like the sight of your blood, but there’s an exception when it comes to your period. He gets weirdly horny when you’re menstruating, sniffing and touching you. He gets hard thinking about fucking or eating you out on your period, but is a bit embarrassed of this. Will try to bring up period sex in a roundabout way, like saying “… you know, I need a lot of iron in my diet to conjure chains…” and “you know I’d make love to you any time you wanted, no matter what, right?” or “did you know that having sex during your period helps with pain?”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Before he met you, Kurapika was a virgin! The first time he’s pretty nervous, but he read books and attempts to watch porn before the time comes(although he doesn’t really get any enjoyment out of watching it!)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s a bit vanilla when it comes to this, but he likes missionary! He loves seeing your face, and he just feels close to you this way! Kurapika makes love, it’s always loving, even if he’s being a bit rough that day.

He thinks pretty much any position he can see your face in is good!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s pretty serious! When Kurapika makes love to you, it’s him showing that he loves you and trusts you with his body, so try not to laugh at him or be too goofy :(

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself very well groomed! And yes, it’s blonde 👀

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kurapika is very sweet and loving during sex. He’s listening to every sound you make, trying to make you feel as good as possible. Kurapika loves kissing and holding you during sex. He’s a huge fan of holding your hand or even hugging as he fucks into you.

He wants to be as close to you as possible. He views sex as the ultimate way of connecting with you, and wants it to be romantic.

Kurapika likes lighting candles, setting the mood with music, and trying his best not to cum just from seeing you naked(even after he’s seen you naked a hundred times, it’s hard to control himself).

J= Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kurapika didn’t masturbate before he met you, he didn’t really feel the need. But once he developed feelings for you, his cock wouldn’t go down!!

He can’t get off without thinking of you, and steals pairs of your panties to help him ><

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding

Period Sex

Cockwarming

Lactation

Bondage

Overstimulation(both ways)

Face sitting

Thigh fucking

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers having sex in the bedroom, or anywhere private, but he does also enjoy slipping inside of you when you sit on his lap anywhere public. He only does this if he’s sure no one will see, though!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly your entire existence gets him hard. You’re the only person he’s ever felt any attraction to! He particularly gets going when he sees your underwear or any part of you that’s usually concealed under clothing

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He will NEVER do something that draws blood or hurts you on purpose. If he accidentally scratches your pretty skin, he gets very upset after. So even if you ask him to, he won’t choke or slap or cut you.

And asking might even worry him LMAO

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is a giver 100%, and is pretty good! Honestly he could just eat you out for hours at a time, overstimulating you until you cry

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?etc.)

Depends on how he’s feeling, but usually he’s slow, sensual, and gentle. He likes to take his time with you, but will go faster and get a bit rough if he’s excited!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not a big quickie fan. Kurapika prefers taking his time with you, and likes long sessions(his current record is 6 hours)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kurapika is desperately in love with you, so he’s game to experiment. He has his own kinky little desires he wants to try, so he won’t say no to you lost of the time.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh my god, he can go for forever. While the town between his orgasms varies depending on how sensitive he is that day, Kurapika can keep going for 6 hours. By the end of your night together, you’re leaking cum all over the bed while he’s cuddling into your tummy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t really enjoy using toys, but he does have a vibrator he’ll use on you sometimes!! Only if he wants to overstimulate you tho ><

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kurapika is very soft on you, so he’s not a big tease. Oftentimes he’ll give you what you want, even if you’re being bratty. You’re more likely to tease him than the other way around LMAO

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud, but gasps, whines, and whimpers. When he’s feeling particularly good he’ll blubber out about how good you feel, and how much he wants to get you pregnant ><

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s definitely a switch, and has called reader mommy in bed at LEAST once….

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He usually wears gray/black boxers!! Though if you gift him some different underwear he’ll wear whatever you want

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high! He wants you constantly, missing you while he’s gone on missions and completely insatiable for at least a day when he comes back.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Hmm, relatively quick, but before he does he’ll do anything you ask. He’s devoted to you, truly.

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t3ag3rs · 28 days

Text

g e n s o - 0 9.

you lay in bed tapping your fingers rhythmically against your chest.

geez i thought this break wouldve been good for me, but i cant stop thinking about the incident.. you think sighing softly.

you sit up as you fidget with the wrap still secured around your arm. "i cant wait to go back to school so i can be distracted from all of this.." you mutter.

hearing a low grumble from your stomach, you look at the clock "its only been 4 hours since i last ate a snack.. i cant eat something else right now again.." you grab your water bottle and start chugging to get rid of the hunger.

"just a couple more hours and ill be back to school..!" u groan slumping back down in the bed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you sit quietly deadpanning as everyone speaks about the incident, nevermind... i hate this school- let me go back home you grumble leaning back.

suddenly you feel a slap to the back of your head "ouch.." u grit glaring at the blonde boy behind you. "what was that for?" you ask agitated.

"for invading my personal space genso" he grins playfully, "i dont want your body anywhere near mine."

"glad we both agree on one thing" you remark as you roll your eyes. "remind me to do the same thing to you the next time you get to close- but with a boulder instead." you state smiling as you turn around.

before bakugou could start spewing curses at you mr. aizawa walked in. ironically, this time he wasnt in a sleeping bag- but instead wrapped in bandages from head to toe.

man he must be sweating buckets under there..' you think as he stands behind the desk.

"as you all know.. the UA sports festival is just down the corner.." starts mr. aizawa before the class butts in.

"wait.. wouldnt that be a bad idea after the villians snuck into to our training facility..?" asks jirou as she raises her hand lightly, " i mean- what if they do it again? we'll all be in the same place so it'll be easier for something bad to happen.. "

"yes, but the administration thinks it'll be a good way for us to show that we handled the situation fine and our school is safer than ever," he pauses, "plus this is a huge deal for UA students and so it cant be cancelled because of a couple of villians.." he looks down, "our schools sports festival is watched all around the world; not only by fans but by pro heros themselves. this is the opportunity to show off what makes you unique and why your a good candidate to be a hero. this festival allows students to be scouted as side kicks which therefore helps on their way to becoming future pros." he narrows his eyes, "that means none of you should be slacking off on any of your training. class is dismissed." he waves before walking out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you let out a sigh staring at your hands as mr. aizawas words repeat in you head. i cant let any opprotunity to train go to waste from here on out.. its my chance to strengthen my control over my quirk and show it off to the pros..! but.. i dont have much time, and theres so much to do.. you close your eyes and lay your face in your hands.

"hey y/n- everything alright?" asks kirishima as he puts a hand on your shoulder. you look up and quickly put on a fake smile as you nod. "dont stress out too much man.. we have time to train- and besides youre already one of the best students here..!" he exclaims showing off his sharp teeth.

"thanks kiri... that means a lot.." you smile before standing up and grabbing your bag. "eat well.. ill be in the gyms if anyone needs me" you add before walking off.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

as you walk out of the gym lockers and into the main room, you let out a quiet prayer requesting that bakugou wouldnt walk in like last time. you take a quick sip of water before putting on your headphones and walking to the squat rack.

finally..! a long awaited leg day! u think happily as you rack up your weights on to the bar. stepping in front of the bar you reach back and wrap your hands around the cool metal bar, letting out a quick breath you lift it off the machine and ready yourself to squat.

as you squat, you dont hear bakugou walk in since your music was blaring into your ears. you set the bar back into the machine and add another 10lbs to each side of the bar before repeating your squats.

unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes were watching you from behind as you squatted (at that fat gyatt fr-). you put the bar back to the machine and step away from it. you shake your legs out as you turn and realize bakugou was in the room next to you.

"how- how long have you been there..?" you ask breathlessly. you fidget with the end of your shorts as you pull the ends down slightly awaiting his reply.

"since you started squating on the machine.. " he replies unbothered, "but im here to fight you." he restates.

you let out a groan, "this again? bakugou- for the last time im not fighting you..!" you throw your hands up frustrated, "your wasting my training time by pestering me with these questions of yours!"

he takes a step towards you, "strength training will do nothing for you during a fight other than make you hit harder. but to hit a person you have to know how to get there first." he runs his hands through his hair, "you cant expect to let your quirk do all the work for you and pass out after overusing it all the damn time.. "

you hated to admit it, but he was right. you were relying solely on your quirk to get out of situations and it wasnt benefitting you in any way. "okay maybe you arent wrong- but im still not fighting you. next thing i know ill end up burnt to a crisp." you chuckle.

he lets out a grin, "thats why we're gonna do hand to hand combat- no quirks allowed. just pure combat wisdom and power" he gives you a challenging smirk, "sound easy enough now genso?"

you let out a low curse as you feel the competitive urge come to you, "fucking.. fine!" you look at him, "but we dont kill each other all right?"

he nods, "yeah, yeah whatever.." he waves his hand dismissevly. "lets just get started" he lets out a predatory smirk before getting into a fighting stance.

god what have i gotten myself into..?

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 next part: pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12

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therainnight · 1 year

Text

Me blathering about Omgaverse JaviLloyd.

Warning: I'm no writer. English is my second language AND this is me blathering about Omgaverse JaviLloyd.

Of course, there is no beta reader. this is me blathering

---------------------------

hear me out- omega!Lloyd.

Yeah I know he must suit for being beta but I like the chaos of Suho and others that not is baron or baroness, don’t know if Lloyd is omega.

Originally, his death isn’t only because of drinking too much but also consumed heat suppressant pills for a long time and won’t let his body have heat after the first time it happened, and because of that most people think he is beta.

Unfortunately, Kim Suho aka our beloved young master takes his body without this knowing this. He did notice the pill bottle on the bedside table but don’t think too much about it. (In his defense, “it a pill bottle with no label. Who would dare to touch it?”)

The story continues like now it in the novel or webcomic. There was once or twice, Javier noticed a new scent coming from Lloyd. VERY SUS. At first, Javier thinks that Lloyd has a secret meeting with omega to steal the weird knowledge that recently Lloyd possessed but that theory has to drop out because Javier is with Lloyd 24/7 after he picks up Lloyd from passing out on the road on a faithful day.

Lloyd knows only a few things about this second-gender thing. “The knight of blood and iron” is focused on Javier’s knighthood journey more than the second gender. He knows what beta, omega, and alpha are but just that it.

After the mining & ant incident, it the moment that Lloyd learned about his real second gender. He learned from the mouth of his family doctor. At first, the doctor praised Lloyd for his choice of choosing to stop drinking after that he praised him for stopping taking heat suppressant pills and letting his body free for once, doing what it was designed for.

“Heat? What?” Lloyd asked but the doctor didn’t notice and keep talking.

“It’s good that now you consider your health, young master. But just completely stopping consuming heat suppressants immediately is kind of dangerous. I will write a new set of pills for u to stable your system, ok?”

“Oh and please don’t take it the wrong way but now you're out of pills, I think you should consider wearing a collar for your own protection.”

“I know. Sir Asrahan is trustworthy and noble alpha but as you always said to your soldier, safety first! Hahaha” the doctor laughed softly.

Before Lloyd could ask doctors more about this “heat” and pills. Baron and baroness break into the room and hug him while telling how they were glad that Lloyd is awake and safe. After a joyful family drop-down. Baron tells Lloyd that he knows about Lloyd's decision to stop taking heat suppressants. The baron presents Lloyd with a collar with the Frontera symbol on it. He said that ask for a mage to cast a spell cast on it to become invisible when the user wears it.

“I know how much you hate people knowing about it but please, think as to help ease your father and mother’s mind.”

Lloyd was confused but agreed to what the baron and baroness begged him for. Good for Lloyd, He wasn’t alone. Javier was also confused.

Nowadays, young master Lloyd has this- bewitching scent coming right off him. At first is very dilute, if it is not because of his sharp sense and of the time they spend together. He won’t notice it but now it becomes more clear and stronger. It smells like chocolate mostly but also another sweet scent that makes a sweet tooth like Javier crave for some.

On one relaxed night, The one that Lloyd can have a routine like normal people. He finished his bath, ready to put Javier into dreamland but Javier have some business before joining him in his bedroom. Lloyd rolls around on the queen-size bed. Lloyd can’t help but feel uneasy and annoyed with how his bed is.

Everyone would have some moments like this. When you feel like the bed is not right and they fix the bed until you feel comfortable again.

So Lloyd spend time waiting for Javier to fix his bed until he felt satisfied. He fluffs 4 pillows that he has. He keeps arranging it but is still unsatisfied.

‘Tomorrow was my day off!! I will have a good quality night's sleep today!!!’

Before he knows he collects the many pillows and blankets as much as he can. While Lloyd arranges his bed like a madman he notices Javier’s pink pillow on the chair near his bed. He picks the pink pillow up. Look around it. Before hugging it to test the quality of the pillow. Turn out it is perfect!

Lloyd replaced the pink pillow with his own pillow while thinking Javier won’t mind him borrowing this pillow just for one day.

-knock- -knock-

“Master Lloyd. It’s me”

“Ah! Come in.”

Javier didn’t prepare his heart for what he witnessed after he opened the door. The usually normal bed is now full of pillows and blankets. Anyone can see that each item has gone through a lot of calculations to determine where to put it.

‘I- it looks like a nes-‘ before Javier can end his thoughts suddenly Lloyd pops out.

“Ha ha! Lo and behold! This is my fortress!”

“....Young master, what are you doing?”

“...make my bed? ANYWAY! come join me! it's very comfy, you know~? Want to sleep with this big brother tonight~?”

“..with all the respect, sir. I have to refuse- wait. Is that my pillow?”

"oh-AH. Yes. I will borrow it today! "

"You have a ton of pillow, Sir. Why you must borrow mine? please give it to me"

"What-? Did I just hear SIR KNIGHT ASRAHAN say he can't sleep without his pink pillow? don't worry. I won't tell a soul."

"--!"

Javier moves closer to the bed with a fortress(?) make of pillows. To be honest, the nest- no- the bed looks very comfy and neat but he can't let himself go along with what this trash human planned.

Thank you for reading! :3

#tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #javier asrahan #javilloyd #or is it #javillo #omegaverse #omega!lloyd #alpha!Javier #not a writer #me blabbing #my art #doodle

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lilpotatjj · 1 year

Note

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Bella Ramsey one shot? I was thinking smut, with inexperienced reader x experienced Bella. I’m thinking either reader has had a crush on Bella foreverrr and asking Bella to take their virginity.

Or if you’re open to this idea,, corruption kink? Bella X innocent reader. In which Bella helps the reader out (ifykwim) because “best friends do this all the time” 🫣

A/N: Thank u so much anon for this beautiful idea of yours. I loved it to write. I'm sure I lost my innocents a second time after writing this😳 I hope it's close to what you wanted. Never wrote a corruption kink story.

Wordcount: 1,8k

Warning: SMUT, slightly dominant Bella and inexperienced AND innocent Fem!Reader, corruption kink! (I tried), fingering, pet names, language

Uses of She/Her

♡my desire for you♡ (18+)!

When does this pain end? a day? one week? a whole year?

You thought, but you still live with the thought of never being able to show Bella how much you are in love with her.

Too afraid of ruining everything you have. Besides, Bella doesn't seem to be looking for anything steady, more like just something fun.

You don't have any desire for anyone else. You always endure the pain when Bella has spent time with someone else and let off steam. A knock on your door. "ready to beat the shit out of some assholes?"

Bella holds the game The Last Of Us in her hand and waves it in front of your nose. You two are what you might call inseparable friends.

"Come in" you take the game from her and prepare it to play. "I'm going to take a shower, I had training" she winks playfully and disappears into the bathroom. "training....yes, sure..." you mutters to yourself.

She comes out of the bathroom barely covered with a towel. Great, always provoke me....it's not like I find you hot...you thought ironically.

"Bella grabs her clothes while you gaze at her intently. You both are generally very open about all the things in your lives.

Bella notices your look and smirks. "What? Nothing you've never seen before". Bella continues to change and your face flushes red. She sits down with you and looks in your eyes. "you look like you want to jump me" She quips and you quickly grab your controller.

Now Bella looks at you rather suspiciously. "You haven't let off steam in a while, have you?" Bella just smirks and you make an embarrassed face. "like....how....without a girlfriend...."

Bella's laugh disappears as quickly as it came and now looks at you seriously. "wait....you've never had one if you've been honest with me over the years" You look at her with puppy dog eyes. "but!......then, you...never had sex? with anyone?"

"caught, yes never" You start the game as if you just wished someone health after sneezing.

"No way!" She looks at you in complete surprise. "wow....how can you stand it?" Bella takes your controller and looks at you.

You can't look her in the face because it screams for Bella to finally touch you. "Y/N....." she carefully grabs your face and looks deep into your eyes. "tell me why...." It slowly dawns on Bella but you remain silent, which only confirms Bella's suspicions.

"The one I love is unattainable...." you whisper, she still has her hands on your face

"but she is always with you..." Bella finishes my sentence and a slight blush comes over her cheeks.

"You won't believe how much I've always wanted you to touch me like this" Bella's breath quickens and you come closer until finally your lips find each other. You kiss tenderly, as if you were just trying it out, but the kiss quickly turns into a fight for dominance, which Bella has under control.

Again and again a soft sigh comes out from both of you and Bella pushes you backwards, holds both of your arms and pins you to the floor. "stop ... you make me horny". Is all you bring shakily out.

The adrenaline is already boiling over. "What if I don't want to stop?" She starts kissing your neck and licking it tenderly again and again, only to hit your sensitive spot, which almost makes you lose your mind.

You can't help but moan softly. "You taste too good....this makes me really hungry" Bella licks her lips. "You look totally exhausted, and we haven't even done anything "totally embarrassed, you avoid her greedy gaze.

"And if I want more?" you look at her longingly, completely overwhelmed by all your feelings.

"you don't know what you're asking me....." She comes so close that the tips of your noses touch. "are you sure...?" She continues to kiss you lovingly on the neck and chin.

You just nod silently and try to ignore your heart, which is beating far too fast.

"I want to hear you....." her gaze totally insistent.

"yes...I want..." You struggle to speak through her tender kissing.

"What do you want!?" she couldn't look more intimidating.

"I want you to be the one....who...take my innocence" That sentence from you was like music to her ears. She lets go of you and can't help but smile cheekily and looks at your bed. "up there then I'll show you the true joy in life" You get up, completely excited and shy and sit down on the bed.

"So you want your best friend to give you a little help...." You sit on the edge of the bed, almost helpless as Bella sits on your lap and just kisses you, more demanding, claws at your hair and holds you firmly under control that you cannot escape.

You let yourself be carried away and sometimes a moan escapes between the kisses. The air is becoming more and more tense and the kissing almost turns into a bite. You feel the pure heat and lust throughout your body.

She starts undressing you, wants to challenge you and still show you how it works. "jeezzz...Bella...that feels so exciting"

Bella pushes you onto the bed. "take off your jeans" You obey almost like a little puppy and you are rid of your jeans.

Her gaze falls on your completely soaked panties. "So wet only for me...I don't know how you could stand it all these years...."

You look at her completely submissively. "It was pure agony..." Tears are slowly running down your temples.

"your so sweet baby" totally flashed by the sight of you, she gently kisses down your cheeks to the side and licks away a tear.

"take off your panties" you stroke the inside of her thighs and stop right in front of her midsection.

The thought of being completely exposed makes your heart almost explode, the reason you hesitate. "It's ok but we can't continue if you don't undress." Bella gives you a warm smile and you pull off your underwear which lands on the floor regardless. Too uncomfortable to be so innocent you put an arm over your eyes and bite your bottom lip.

"stop hiding...you're so fucking beautiful" Bella examines every corner of your body and takes your arm away from your face just to kiss you, while you're still a little tense.

"I want to kiss you everywhere!" Bella is getting more excited.

"go ahead...please.." you speak in a shaky voice. She doesn't need to be told twice and starts kissing your neck, slowly and greedily working her way down to your chest. You sigh under her kisses, look down at her as she tenderly plays her tongue around one of your nipples. One of her hands wanders to the other breast and plays with it curiously.

You start to relax and close your eyes slightly. "May I go further down?" Bella looks at you impatiently and her British accent almost drives you insane.

"please...yes go ahead" Bella grabs one of your legs over her shoulder, clasp it and with the other hand pushes your other leg slightly to the side to get as close as possible to the Garden of Eden" all that tingling makes you loosen up and you are slowly getting more and more impatient yourself.

Without thinking twice, she starts with soft kisses right on your clit, moves a little further down to lick your folds. "You taste so good" She tries to play with her tongue on your opening a little further, testing you and you can't help but groan louder one after another. "I'm going to try and stick a finger in there....gently. you're so wet...damn" You get really nervous but try to keep your composure.

"it's ok..." you look at her in a daze. "You're sure I should do that? I won't ask again!" You just nod again. "I fucking want to hear the words!"

"please...I want to feel you....I want you to fuck me so bad" You're already begging her.

"That's a good girl...." She grins proudly and starts kissing your clit again, this time she gently inserts a finger, just a little, which makes you moan.

You're so wet that you can hardly resist, but Bella doesn't get very far. A bigger resistance stops her and she looks up at you without raising her head.

"Ready....? might hurt a bit but I'll take it slow.

"please..just start....want to feel you so bad....." you beg her impatiently. Bella gently pushes against the resistance causing you to narrow your eyes slightly in pain.

"come on...just a little bit further....do it for me darling..." with a little jerk her finger dives much deeper into you, the reason that you moan clearly. Bella doesn't move her finger for now so you can get used to the feeling.

"I want more...please Bella..." You look at her helplessly and Bella smirks contentedly. "someone tasted blood huh...?" She moves her finger very carefully and literally explores every corner of you which makes you groan and close your eyes. The feeling of what makes you a moaning mess becomes more and more beautiful and intens. Slight tingling causes Bella to insert a second finger and only brings you even more into ecstasy.

"feels...too good...more...I want so much..more" Bella kisses your neck while moving her fingers faster and further inside you.

"I want everything from you...your innocence is not enough for me! Cum for me!" Her fingers move more and more roughly which almost completely shoots you over the edge.

"your wet pussy is so tight, feels good darling hm?" You can't answer anymore and an overwhelming tingling comes over you from your midsection all the way to your fingertips, like lightning hitting you and you moaning completely out of control.

You arch your back and claw your way into the blanket with all your might. A few more movements so that you calm down a bit and finally Bella pulls her fingers out of you to lick them off afterwards.

"too delicious..." Bella smiles contentedly." your such a naughty and brave girl...all for me"

"that was amazing...you are amazing!" You are completely exhausted.

"You know that we do this more often now......?" You stare at her, dumbfounded.

"As friends?"

"No...you're mine now. And no one else is allowed to touch you!" You just swallow with the thought that Bella always has other girls. "but....you're always with other-"

"won't happen, I promise. I didn't notice you and it the whole time. I won't let you go!" You snuggle up under the covers and cuddle up together. "bella...your hand...what..." You stare at her and she smiles her freakin' cute smile.

"round 2........?"

Uuuugh....that was just uuuugh. Thx for reading. If u want more look at my masterlist or send me requests♡

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x fem!reader #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey fanfic #bellaramsey #bella ramsey smut #bella ramsey fluff #smut #bella ramsey the last of us #bella ramsey fic

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shadowdaddies · 6 months

Note

Ok can you maybe write a poly manorian x reader and she is on her cycle so she’s very emotional & they comfort her

Thank you I hope u have a great day

Sure thing honey! I hope you have a good day as well 💜

Better Mood

poly!Manorian x reader fluff

You were sat at the dining table, an assortment of snacks laid out in front of you. You couldn’t decide what you wanted to eat, so you grabbed everything that looked good, including all of the chocolate in the pantry. It was the first day of your cycle, when you were bloated, your skin was blotchy, and it seemed all you could feel was sadness. You sniffled, feeling a little better as you took a bite of a particularly delicious chocolate, and a small smile graced your face. You took a deep breath, feeling like the worst of your hormones might be behind you, until you dropped the chocolate to the floor.

As you took in the sight of dessert laying on the dusty floor of the dining area, your eyes filled with tears. You let out a small sob, running your hands through your hair as you hung your head in your hands, feeling like you couldn’t do anything right. You knew it was just the hormones making you feel this way, but it didn’t ease your hurt at all. You needed comfort. As if hearing your thoughts, Manon walked into the room.

She stopped upon seeing you with tears running down your cheeks, and you looked up at her to see her nostrils flaring, scenting your blood. Immediately, the predator side of her came out, golden eyes narrowing as her iron nails flexed. “You’re bleeding. Who did this to you?” She demanded, striding over to crouch in front of you as she searched for injury.

Her intense response to the situation lightened your mood, and you let out a small, sniffly laugh as you smiled down at her and cupped her cheek. “No one hurt me, Manon. I’m just on my cycle.” You wished you could paint a picture of her face in that moment, full of confusion as she leaned back, assessing you. “I thought you had your cycle a month ago,” she said incredulously. You tried to hold back your laughter as you explained that humans get them every month, and Manon’s expression somehow became even more horrified.

“Witches don’t have our cycles nearly so frequently. It’s one of the reasons it’s so difficult for us to conceive, much like the fae.” She assessed the table full of food, and your tear-streaked face again. Retracting her nails as she brought a hand up to wipe away your tears, she questioned, “but you are in pain?” You nodded, bringing your hand to hold hers against your cheek as you savored her touch, surprisingly tender. “I am in some pain - cramping - but I’m mostly just sad. I get very emotional sometimes at the start of my cycle.” Manon hummed, brushing your hair from your face as she opened her mouth to ask you a question before Dorian entered the room, interrupting the conversation.

You smiled up at him, Manon whipping around to address him as well. Dorian took one look at the table full of chocolates and your tears and his eyes filled with concern. Before he could ask, you and Manon said in sync, “cycle.” Dorian shifted on his feet as he thought. “What can we do? Do you want some food, a bath?” You gave him a grateful smile, “a bath sounds really nice, actually.” He nodded, “I’ll make sure it’s set up for you then,” and turned to leave.

Manon helped you up, arm looped around you protectively as she brought you to your bathroom. Dorian was waiting for you by the tub, pouring floral-smelling salts into the water, more flower petals floating on the surface. The room was dimly lit save the candles surrounding the bathtub, giving the room a soothing ambiance. Manon stood behind you, arms loosely draped around your waist as she softly kissed your neck. “Do you want Dorian or I to join you?” she murmured in your ear as she began helping you undress.

Dorian turned at her question, looking at you with hopeful eyes. You pretended to think for a moment before replying in a soft voice, “well the bath is large enough to fit all of us.” Manon laughed softly as she nudged you towards Dorian, undressing herself as you helped Dorian remove his clothes. Once he was undressed, he turned you around to face the tub, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he stepped in. He held your hand, helping you step into the water as Manon entered the tub behind you. You sat down in the water, feeling immediately relief from the warmth combating your cramps and sore muscles. You leaned back against Manon’s chest, Dorian across from you with your legs in his lap. Manon softly washed your body as Dorian massaged your hands and feet, and you found yourself nearing tears once again, this time because you were so thankful to have them in your life.

You jolted awake, slightly splashing Manon and Dorian with bath water. Realizing you must have drifted off, your cheeks heated as you whispered, “did I fall asleep?” Manon laughed behind you, the sound vibrating through your chest as you leaned back against her, pressing a kiss to her neck. Dorian’s hand stroked softly up and down your leg as he hummed his affirmation. “You did, but that gave us time to have some food sent up.” At the sound of food, you perked up, feeling much more awake as the three of you left the bath.

You put on a robe as you climbed into bed with them, eating dinner before laying back and enjoying each others’ presences. You fell asleep again soon after eating, Manon with her head in your lap as you curled into Dorian’s shoulder, him stroking your hair while he read.

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diodellet · 1 year

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what can i do for you? (jamil viper x gn!reader*)

i am not ok after seeing jamil's clubwear SSR. when he dropped, i ended up dropping an extra 2k words for this chapter. sige na nga, ill give u more fluff and bliss ser viper🤧 content warnings: -anachronistic (it is set during the main story of twst, but no references to overblots) -g/n reader described as having thick, long, not-straight hair -mix of jp and en terms -gratuitous headcanoning of how nrc classes work -light references to nightmares and bullying word count: 7.1k words chapter 1: just let me do this for you

chapter 2: take my hand like you mean it

You were a capable set of extra hands, to Jamil's surprise. Well, as long as you weren't put in front of a stove. Chores that were usually tedious, like mopping and waxing the floors of certain hallways in the dorm, feeding the animals and cleaning their enclosures—in this case, removing the curtains and draperies that decorated the lounge area for laundry—took more or less have the usual time it required.

"Can you reach it?"

"I don't think so... I'm going to jump—"

"Don't jump!" His hold on the stepladder tightened as you stood up on your tiptoes.

You grunted, stretching your arm out to unhook the cloth. "But I'll be able to reach it that way..."

"Just let me do it—" A section of the scarlet cloth fell on top of him. He pulled it away to see your sheepish expression. "Never mind, get down from there."

You carefully climbed down, immediately going to pick up the other hand of the curtain and helping him fold it. Then, the both of you moved to repeat the process for the rest of the draperies in the lounge.

The golden rays of the afternoon sun streamed into the room, now unhindered from the lack of curtains. You paused to stare out into the surroundings, not one bit bothered by the heat. In fact, you seemed to soak up the warmth. The serene expression that washed over your features was quickly replaced with mild discomfort.

“If you’re tired, you can leave the rest of it to me,” Jamil said, snapping you out of your reverie.

You shook your head, folding the curtain in half and stepping closer to pass your end to him. “I’m good, I’m good. I just…” Your fingers carded through the ends of your ponytail. “Does it ever rain here? I know rain in the desert is a thing, but if the dorms are like a sort of pocket dimension, then does it follow regular weather?”

Sometimes, Kalim liked to make it rain. Whenever he saw the plants in the gardens wilting, whenever they trekked out to a dried-up oasis, whenever he heard his fellow dormmates complaining about the dry heat of Scarabia. Jamil didn’t have any strong feelings for rain, but a part of him—the part that was stubbornly curious about you, felt as if the question wasn’t one from random inquiry.

“It does, occasionally. The weather is independent from the main campus though, if that’s what you’re asking.” He started walking towards the laundry area, carrying the folded-up curtains.

“...Huh, cool.” You trailed behind him, your arms were swallowed up by the sheer volume of fabric. “I think I prefer sunny weather though. Reminds me of home.”

What was your hometown like in your original world? Did you come from a place that was always bright with sunlight? Or were you more used to the persistent scent of petrichor, to cloudy gray skies? Though if he asked, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to give much of an answer.

“That’s nice. Watch your step.” As soon as he said that, you stumbled, foot catching on the trailing ends of the curtain. He shifted what he was carrying to one hand and caught you by the back of your uniform’s jacket.

You quickly righted yourself and apologized, “sorry, um. Thank you.” You ran your gaze along the part of the fabric you stepped on as you gathered it into your arms once again.

“It’s going to be washed anyway.” Jamil let go of your blazer. The use of the upperclassman honorific in place of his name slowly became more frequent with each visit, he noted.

Ironic, seeing as how you were completely at ease with him during your first meeting.

In the laundry area, hampers containing his and Kalim’s used clothes were already sitting there. He figured he could kill two birds with one stone, and do it at the same time.

The curtains were vacuumed every week, but it had been a while since they were properly cleaned. And in a place as sandy as the Scarabia dorm, they were pretty much due for a washing. While the fabric didn’t contain designs as elaborate as the ones that decorated the Asim estate, it was still provided by said family. Tailored, not manufactured, for the renovated dorm and worth more than what he would ever amount to. He sorted through the fabrics, which ones were good to throw into the laundry machine and which ones had to be strictly washed by hand.

He nodded towards the latter. “I’ll handle these.”

“Is this too much detergent?”

“You could use a little more.”

Another thing he noticed about you, was that you were, for lack of a better word, quiet. Rarely did you ever ask questions about how to do or where to find things, only needing a glance around the room. He initially attributed it to the fact that you spent a large chunk of your first days here fixing up your dorm to be at least livable, to make the most of your meager belongings. But behind the awkwardly polite demeanor you wore, there was an experienced and practiced characteristic to how you carried out your work. The kind that was ingrained into muscle memory after years.

When you were alone, did your shoulders sag with bone-deep exhaustion? Did you ache from constant daily exertion? And if he were to hold your hand, would he feel the remnants of calluses and blisters?

“Did…did I do something wrong?” you asked, before closing the machine and letting it run its cycle.

“No, you didn’t.” He brought out a small stool for you to sit on.

Jamil could feel the weight of your gaze prickling the back of his neck. You spoke up after a few seconds of silence, “do you need help with that?”

“No, I can manage this.” In fact, he could make quick work of it. There weren’t any stains that he needed to remove, for once. He filled an empty basin with water and let the fabric soak in the detergent.

“Alright…” you acquiesced, leaning your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin on your palms.

The rumble of the machines, combined with the slosh of water filled the room. Not that he was the most interesting conversationalist to be with, but he was grateful for the ambient noise.

“It’d be nice… if we had our own washing machine for Ramshackle,” you blurted out.

Jamil supposed that the once-abandoned dorm was equipped with all the necessary amenities during its time of use. But if you and Grim were the newest and only living residents, then— “Did Headmaster Crowley not replace the dorm’s appliances?” He rolled up his sleeves before rinsing out the draperies. If he wasn’t careful, he could tear the delicate cloth.

At your silence, he turned to glance at you, meeting your gaze. You gave a slow shake of your head before turning back to watch the machine in front of you. “I had to do it by hand at first—which is fine! Completely fine with me, actually—but everything in that dorm was on the verge of collapse. I kinda feel scared to touch it.”

“If you’re looking for a place to do your laundry…” This wasn’t the place to do it. He was up to his neck in responsibilities, spontaneous and planned. He gave the contents one last rinse then deemed it clean enough to be dried, emptying the basin and wringing out the fabrics.

“Hm? Oh, no, I mean, the ghosts showed me how to use it.” You pondered on your next words, standing up to take the freshly laundered fabrics out. “I just…think that getting a new one would end up erasing what they taught me.”

“The ghosts have been around for a long time. They’re more than used to seeing people come and go.” He flicked the water off his hands. “what more for a broken machine?”

Your head tilted to the side. “...I guess so. ”

The room fell into silence once more as he hung the finished laundry on a metal drying rack.

“We still need to hang these outside.” He tossed a set of clothespins into a basket before passing it to you. The both of you left the laundry area, stepping outside. The clear, sunny weather showed no signs of diminishing and there was a pleasant breeze. With the area he chose, he wouldn’t have to worry about sand and dust getting kicked up by the wind.

“Henchmaaan!”

Your head searched for Grim spotting him bounding towards you on all fours. You threw the curtain over the clothesline before catching him in your arms. “What’s wrong? Where’s Kalim?”

“I dunno and I don’t care, let’s go back home!" Jamil guessed that even Grim had his limits.

At those words, he could hear the dorm leader’s voice calling out for Grim.

"Gyah, you gotta hide me!" He burrowed into your jacket, pitchfork-shaped tail jutting out.

You shared a look with Jamil, confusion furrowing your brow. “Did…something bad happen—ow, Grim your nails!”

“Probably not.” Jamil said as he clipped another curtain onto the line. The fabric billowed in the wind, the finely-spun thread catching the rays of sunlight. He stole a glance at you, standing on the opposite side of the clothesline. Grim was balancing on your shoulders as you talked to him.

“If you made him angry—” Kalim and the word ‘angry’ in the same sentence? That would have been something to see, Jamil thought to himself. “—you’re going to have to apologize to him,” you said as you straightened out another piece of fabric before hanging it.

“He’s…he’s not mad!” Grim protested, tail flicking back and forth. “But he kept taking me everywhere and pinching my tail, and I had enough!”

That sounded like something Kalim would do. His ears then picked up the sound of his footsteps, combined with the sounds of his accessories and jewelry clinking and chiming.

“There you are, Grim!” There goes Jamil’s two hours of solace and quiet.

Grim wailed, hiding behind your legs and putting you squarely in between him and Kalim. “I don’t wanna go with you!”

“Um…if you don’t mind me asking,” There it was again, the use of that honorific in place of Kalim’s name. “What happened a while ago?” Your hands picked at your fingers.

The dorm leader explained that the fire-monster got bored of studying, so Kalim suggested a few fun things they could do around the dorm. It started out with a few board games, followed by a visit to the animals, and then just before he could take Grim on a spontaneous flying carpet ride, the fire-monster ran away to find you. That meant Jamil had to do some extra cleanup after he finished putting away the laundry. Great.

“Oh, I see...” Your confusion didn’t let up but you continued without losing a beat, “so, while I—we appreciate your kind intentions, I think that’s my cue to help Grim study… Maybe you could take him flying next time?”

Kalim nodded in understanding. “Next time then. Oh! By the way, I’m throwing a party this weekend, we could do it then! Would you like to come?”

Your fidgeting paused. “It sounds fun, I just… I wouldn’t know anyone there?” It was clear you didn’t want to go.

“But you know me, and you know Jamil. And Grim can come along too!”

“...Um…I don’t—I guess I do, but…” Your gaze momentarily flicked to Jamil then back to Kalim.

He took your hands in his, eyes shining with undeterred excitement. “The food’ll be good! And, and, I could introduce you to my other friends too! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Guess Jamil had to step in.

“Kalim. They’re probably going to be busy on the weekend.” Or, from what he gathered, you just didn’t seem very extraverted. Surprisingly, he still had an iota of patience that he could inject into his tone. “Just invite them another time, when their schedule’s freed up.”

Thankfully, the dorm leader let go of your hands and didn’t push any further. “Just tell me when, and I’ll make sure to plan something for you, alright?”

You only gave him a stiff smile in acknowledgement.

Truth be told, Jamil didn’t plan on letting you continue to visit. At first, you would always get lost in the dorm, somehow ending up in a room on the complete opposite end of where you were trying to get to. And since Grim would always accompany you, the more the fire monster grew comfortable to his new after school hangout spot, the more of a menace he became. Your time went into chasing Grim around Scarabia, keeping him away from the kitchens while Jamil was cooking. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if you reached the point of having to babysit Kalim as well.

He could go on and on with his nitpicking, but none of it could take away from the fact that you were efficient. Somehow, you managed to take away a portion of the work that burdened him everyday.

[...]

Apparently, he wasn’t completely right about your ability to efficiently manage your studies.

His class was in the library, doing some preliminary research for a paper to be submitted later in the semester. He sat on one of the outer seats of the table his group was using. They were situated in a relatively quiet section of the library. Most of the noise came from the tables near the entrance and the sections with the resources that were most appropriate for the paper’s subject matter.

Said noise and chatter would only grow louder with the arrival of a first-year class. Jamil could hear the librarian already admonishing them. What Jamil would give to be able to throw on his headphones. He flipped the page of the book he was reading. A few passages proved to be somewhat promising, he took note of the important points, condensing them for easy reference—

“Grim! That’s not the right map!”

Something clattered noisily on the table. “Whaat? I was doing it exactly like you told me.”

“No…no, it’s wrong, it’s—we have to redo it, all of it.” The frantic flutter of papers combined with Grim’s drawn-out whine.

“Actually, I think you guys forgot about the time zone, it’s not on Sage Island remember?” Ace cut in.

“Argh, I forgot about that—” A thud against the table surface interrupted your words. Any louder, and Jamil supposed that the librarian would materialize right at your side.

“Guys, the librarian’s looking at us…” Deuce’s voice wasn’t that much quieter than yours, but at least he wasn’t completely ignoring his surroundings.

Your voice lowered to a non-discreet whisper. “What does your solution look like?”

“I got this for my answer.” Your group fell silent, reading over his work.

Ace then spoke up, “...ohh. It looks correct—hey, don’t start crying on the paper!”

“I’m gonna—we’re gonna fail, I don’t get it, I don’t get any of it—”

“Why do we need to manually calculate this? Can’t we just use that fancy crystal ball like the teacher does?” Grim complained.

Ah, first-year Astrology. Now your group’s reaction made sense.

“Hey, those freshmen are starting to be pretty annoying. Should I tell them off?” Jamil’s gaze moved from the book to his classmate. He noticed that he was the only person who had an open book, everyone else was either on their phones or leaning closer to continue in hushed voices.

“Ugh, I was waiting for someone to say something about them.”

“If you don’t do it, I’m gonna complain to the librarian. See how they like gettin’ thrown out into the hall…”

Without making a sound, Jamil pushed his chair back and left the table. Moved two—no, four shelves down to be away from the confrontation when it happened. Not that the distance did anything to lessen the fact that he could still hear the short screech of the chairs being pushed back, whispers slowly growing into an argument, Grim hissing as a warning—

That didn’t concern you. He pushed it out of his mind, put all his focus into scanning the titles along the shelf. A memoir from an author who was prominent in the connected field of study, a collection of similar studies published under NRC, his group could use these. He tucked the books under his arm and went to the front desk. “Excuse me, I would like to borrow these,” he said, setting them down on the wooden surface and filling out the cards at the back.

The irate expression on the librarian’s face didn’t let up. The force of him stamping the cards was strong enough to make the desk shake. But judging from the bits of quiet angry muttering that Jamil could hear, the librarian didn’t seem to have any plans of approaching the area where your group was located. He passed the books back to Jamil and waved him off.

The commotion didn’t seem to have escalated too badly by the time he returned. His groupmates were now just talking about their afterschool plans, counting the minutes until they were dismissed. One of his classmates’ tie was crooked, the collar of his shirt wrinkled possibly from being grabbed. Another was cradling a fresh scratch mark along his wrist. Jamil glanced over to your group’s table—Deuce was going over a worksheet with you. You were absentmindedly scratching the base of Grim’s ear. And Ace was leaning back in his chair. The look in his irises didn’t match his relaxed demeanor—their eyes met and Jamil only gave a small nod in greeting before he busied himself with arranging his belongings.

The rest of Jamil’s day went on without much issue. As soon as afternoon training concluded, he was surprised to see Kalim waiting for him so they could walk back to Scarabia together. The conversation was light, nothing noteworthy. Kalim knew how to speak for two people, he could make a conversation out of anything and carry it for seemingly forever. The problem only started when he would get caught up in his excitement, and since Jamil was talking about Kalim, this happened on a regular basis. Complaining about it wouldn’t amount to anything.

As he changed into his dorm uniform, his phone buzzed. You tended to message right before going through the mirror. The gesture of…courtesy started to make less sense the more your visits became a regular thing. It was still convenient, don’t get him wrong. Though… maybe it was just a bit weird, the more he thought about it.

He read over his reply twice and sent it before going to meet you at the dorm’s entrance.

[...]

“Henchman, y’have to try this!” Grim hopped off the kitchen’s tabletop and trotted over to you.

“Grim, we have to head back before six so I can tea—” Your sentence was cut off by the fire-monster pushing his half-eaten pita wrap into your face. You took a bite and made a pleased sound before going, “wait Grim it’s too spicy—!”

Jamil handed you a glass of water. He saw Grim pour an obscene amount of sauce over his serving. Not that you would know, having just returned from replacing the vacuum cleaner. He would’ve insisted that he should be the one to do it, but Kalim and Grim started bugging him for something to eat. And Grim, unbridled menace that he was, wouldn’t shut up unless his demands were met.

Kalim chimed into the conversation, “are you going back that soon?”

“Yeah?” You knocked a fist against your chest, stifling another coughing fit. “Well, I—we don’t wanna impose… so we’ll leave early.” You took another drink of water then wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Aww, but I don’t wanna study Astrology…”

“But I’m the one who has to teach you, you rascal.” Your hand ruffled the top of his head.

Grim backed away from you to leap up onto the table. Not that it added much to his height. “Myargh, don’ call me that! Y’don’t even understand it either!” When you pointed an exasperated stare at the fire-monster, he continued to protest, “but it’s Friday! Studying during the weekends should be illegal!”

“I’m sorry, we’ll start getting out of your hair in a bit…” You turned to the both of them, sheepish and apologetic.

“No, no it’s okay.” Kalim waved off your words cheerfully. “You were saying something about Astrology…? Are you having trouble with that class?” He took the last serving of pita wrap and passed it to you.

Jamil took the empty plate and brought it to the sink.

Accepting the snack, you winced. “Well… u-um, every class has its challenges, you know?”

“Liar! Y’were cryin’ snot all over our worksheet!”

Embarrassment filled your voice. “Grim!”

“Well, if it’s Astrology that’s giving you trouble, then you’re in the right place!” Kalim gestured with a wide sweep of his arms. “Did you know that you can see the stars really easily here? You could stay over for dinner and—” he paused, then his smile widened even more.

Jamil knew what that expression meant, that meant the dorm leader was going to suggest something outlandish.

“—we could take the flying carpet! I did that with Jamil when I was also having a hard time with that class in my first year. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

Jamil kept his head down, focused on the plates in front of him, the faint smell of dish soap, the cool running water against his hands. But he couldn’t tear his ears away from the conversation.

“Um… but curfew…”

“You could sleep over for the night!”

“Sweet~! We really lucked ou—ack!” Grim’s cheer was cut off by you, continuing to decline on his part.

“No, it’s really fine, Grim ‘nd me’ll start leaving right now—”

“Don’t worry about that! We have plenty of spare rooms, don’t we?” He looked to Jamil for confirmation. The unbridled excitement in Kalim’s irises sent a wave of irritation through him.

A strained laugh left your throat. “Um, I appreciate the invitation, but respectfully, I must turn it down…” you paused, considering what to say, “...seeing as how none of us have brought overnight clothes…”

“Why’re you suddenly talking like that? You don’t need to be formal with us. I insist!”

��I really don’t think it’s okay for us to overstay—” You tried protesting for the third time.

“Lots of people sleep over at Scarabia, it’s no big deal!” Yes, Jamil could remember the times where he found Silver slumped over in a pile of pillows from the lounge, the several instances where Floyd invited himself to stay over “for funsies,” and of course, he couldn’t leave out the bi-monthly Light Music Club sleepovers with Lilia and Cater.

“Um…”

“Stop scruffin’ me, henchman! Kalim’s got a point, doesn’t he?”

Kalim’s voice softened. “Look, you’re practically one of us at this point. It’s fine, really.”

That. That unwavering honesty in his words and how it easily spilled from him. It was careless how freely and earnestly he spoke. But above all, it was enviable. Only a young rich heir could find the capacity to be that open and kind and generous and Jamil could feel a headache pinching at his temple. He placed the cleaned dishes on the drying rack. It took every ounce of his self-control not to set them aside with a clatter.

You didn’t seem to have any rebuttals prepared.

Jamil discarded his irritation, easily plastering on the neutral expression he always carried. “Do you have your books and notes?”

You nodded.

“Make sure to bring it with you after dinner. I’ll tutor you both.” The sensation of having everyone’s eyes on him was uncomfortable against his skin.

“...alright.” Maybe the same could be said for you. “C’mon Grim.”

Now that the kitchen was mostly cleaned up, he needed to prepare a room for you and Grim, find a spare dorm uniform in good condition, then go back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. His internal list of responsibilities to work through shifted to make space for this extra work.

The moment of discomfort didn’t last for long though, Jamil refused to let it linger. Because if it lingered, then that meant he would have to figure out why his irritation was being overtaken with uneasiness. And if he thought about it more then he’d have to…

He stole a glance at you, keeping up with his pace. For once you weren’t trailing behind him like you usually did when you visited Scarabia. You looked like you were half-listening to whatever Grim and Kalim were talking about.

Articulate as he was, he couldn’t name the expression you were wearing. Whatever it was, there was a deeper emotion to it and Jamil found it hard to look at.

[...]

“Look, look I’m matching with you guys now.” You rested a hand on your hip. After a few beats, your expression faltered. “I didn’t wear anything backwards, did I?”

“You didn’t.” Save for the golden accessories that every student from Scarabia wore, the uniform seemed to fit you well. Not too loose or uncomfortably tight, the hem of the vest and undershirt were neatly smoothed out. Just like how you presented yourself in the NRC uniform. “It looks good,” he said.

“Really? It feels super comfy. Well…” you paused, looking down at yourself. “I guess the belt is just a bit long…”

“You can shorten it by doing this.” He stepped closer to you, taking hold of the trailing end and fixing it so that it wouldn’t trail down to your ankles. But in adjusting the belt, part of the undershirt had risen up. The habit of fixing Kalim’s clothes kicked in before he could catch himself.

Jamil’s hands brushed against your hips as he gently tugged the hem of the undershirt back down. He double-checked the belt and smoothed it out once more. At the sudden contact, you tensed up, breath hitching quietly. Several sheets of your epherimedes slipped from your notes as your arms came up by reflex, placing a sort of makeshift barrier between him and you.

Thankfully, instead of mentioning the proximity—the breach of personal space—you asked, "where's Kalim? I thought he said he was going with us."

Jamil picked up the fallen sheets of paper, passing them to you. "He turned in for the night." Well, Kalim was intent on staying up late, but Jamil had already tried waking him up once. To which the dorm leader responded by burrowing deeper into his blankets. Jamil motioned for you to follow him.

“So did Grim. I told him that we were still going to study but…” You sighed, shoulders slumping forward a bit. “...I guess I’ll just make sure to tutor him tomorrow morning.”

It was late in the evening now. The moon hung high in the sky, an upside-down bowl. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. Filling in the silence as Jamil weighed his words. “You’re very diligent.”

You laughed. But the sound was derisive, directed—stabbing—at yourself. “Diligence doesn’t mean much when you earn poor results.”

He thought back to what he overheard in the library. “Don’t be hard on yourself.” To his surprise, his words didn’t feel the same as the empty platitudes he would regurgitate for Kalim. “This isn’t my first time tutoring Astrology.”

And it would reflect badly on his dorm if he couldn’t recall what he learned in the first year, the afterthought needed to be there. To remind him of his responsibility. Because now his mind was catching up to the fact that it was only going to be you and him, and that thought wasn’t supposed to be so… bothersome.

"Are you really okay with it?” He knew that you were talking about having to be an impromptu tutor, your words held a hint of guilt and concern. And even if a part of him was aware that it came from a genuine place, it only made him feel small.

The automatic response came out, albeit a bit more curt and clipped than he intended. “I’m used to it.”

You didn’t say anything more, only muttering a quiet ‘oh, I see.’

The walk to the treasury was quiet, and your silence spoke volumes. It was as if he could hear the gears in your head turning. Despite your reserved nature, you were a mediator through and through, just like Kalim was.

If he said that he wasn’t okay with being volunteered to tutor others, that wouldn’t exempt him from being made to do so either way. He didn’t have a choice in the first place. The least you could do was make the ordeal less painstaking than it already was for him.

Jamil’s hand rested on the doorknob of the room. “Look, the sooner we go, the sooner we can get this done. You can manage that, can’t you?”

The guilt on your features gave way to a determined nod. “Okay, I won’t waste your time,” you promised.

He thought back to the pinky promise you first made. And he pushed the door to the treasury open. “Don’t expect me to hold your hand through the subject though.”

“I know that!” Your voice was pitched high from embarrassment. “You won’t have to start right from the beginning!”

At least you were standing behind him, you wouldn’t have to see the startings of a grin cracking across his face.

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Jamil asked as he searched around for the flying carpet. The magical artifact greeted you both with a wave of its tassels. It followed the both of you out of the treasury, curling and twisting in mid-air.

You stared. “...oh…we’re gonna fly…”

“Yes—wait, what did you think we were going to do?” Now that you were all outside the main building, the carpet laid itself flat on the ground. The cool night air was a complete reversal of the day’s heat.

“I don’t know! I-I thought Scarabia had some special observatory I wasn’t aware of!”

He gave you an exasperated look. “Are you sure you’re okay with flying?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m not scared of heights… only falling and breaking my bones…” You took a seat next to him. Your hold on your notes was tight enough to crease the edges of paper that jutted out.

Jamil supposed that you were saying that to convince yourself. Judging by the way that your eyes were squeezed shut, his suspicions were only further confirmed. He guided the carpet to slowly ascend, flying high enough so that your view of the sky wouldn’t be obscured by Scarabia’s buildings.

Your trepidation melted away as you took in the night sky. "Woah, the star maps don't do this view any justice…" you breathed.

"Don't get sidetracked now."

"Right, right. Sorry, um…" You opened the textbook and started rattling off what part of the lesson you were at. You showed him the graded worksheets and your notes.

As Jamil listened to you, he read over your handwriting. Somewhat messy, but still readable. Granted, while there were some missing segments in your solutions, you seemed to make sure to include the final answer. Was it a way to challenge yourself instead of copying another classmate’s solution? Or were you intent on figuring it out all by yourself? He guessed it was the latter.

The both of you pored over the material. Redoing the problems you got wrong, filling in the parts of the discussion that you missed. Jamil noticed however that you had trouble comparing the actual night sky with the maps you brought along.

“Wait, which star?” Your brow furrowed as you tried to follow the direction he was pointing at.

He tipped your chin up, keeping his other arm parallel to your gaze. “It’s a dim constellation, so you have to look at the surroundings to be able to spot it. ”

A short, frustrated exhale escaped you. “I still can’t find it.”

“Keep trying.” From his perspective, the end of the star pattern rested just barely atop his fingertip.

He could feel the short baby hairs framing the side of your face brush up against his arm as you continued to search for the constellation. Eventually your confusion dissipated and your eyes lit up with recognition “Oh, I see it now! So then that means…” You looked back down at your notes, flipped through the pages, then started hastily writing down a few messy calculations. All the while indifferent to the fact that his hand was still resting on your shoulder.

“Is this correct?” You tilted your notes towards him.

He scanned what you wrote. “...you used the wrong time zone.”

You swore. “Ugh, I keep forgetting about that.” Your eraser scratched at the specific part of the mistake, making the needed corrections. “Are the advanced classes just as math-filled?” you asked as you redid the solution. “I feel like we’re almost doing rocket science.”

“No, they’re more reliant on magical ability. Scrying, cartomancy, even astrology, when done right can be powerful tools to guide a magician.” So far, so good. He noted as he skimmed your handwriting. “The better you are, the more vivid your visions. Or so they say.”

“Do you believe in that? Things like seeing the future and all that?”

Of course not, he held back a scoff. His entire fate was neatly laid out in front of him by his parents and their ancestors. His destiny rested in the palm of a naive heir full of ignorance and misplaced kindness. His home, his own family, and the prestige they carried was a flimsily-disguised birdcage. Why, he wanted nothing more than to carve out his own path with his bare hands, to just up and leave everything behind. Fate, chance, and destiny be damned.

Instead he settled on this for a short answer. “I think it’s foolish to hinge everything on fate.”

“I thought you’d say something like that,” you laughed. “Rational, practical, down-to-earth Jamil.” Not one bit of the sound felt demeaning, and there’s a note of something…fond in the way you said his name.

Too close. “Don’t tell me you believe otherwise.” He pulled away from you and leaned back on his palms. The magic that powered the carpet thrummed underneath his fingertips, steady as the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves. He pointed his gaze towards the half-moon floating in a sea of stars, adamantly turning away from your crescent-eyed smile. His stomach felt uneasy, it was as if he was helplessly suspended in between two moons.

“It’s not that I completely believe in it or the other way around, but I came from a magicless world so I gotta…” You hummed thoughtfully as you flipped through your ephemerides. “...think of it as something real now.”

The two of you lapsed into silence, accompanied by the sound of the wind and the flutter of the carpet. Was it supposed to feel this comfortable, being in another person’s space and having them in his own? With this stillness, the both of you were no different from the celestial objects painting the night sky. You were deeply engrossed in your work, oblivious to what your words were stirring.

The scratch of your pencil against paper stopped before his thoughts spiraled out of control. “Okay… is this right?” He thinks he’s composed himself enough to be able to spare a glance.

“Mm, it’s right.” His hand toyed with the edge of his hood. The triumphant gleam in your eyes was blinding.

“So, it’s good?”

He flipped through the textbook then tapped at another sample problem. “Do this one next, then we’ll see.”

“What? That wasn’t discussed in class!”

“It’s like the last problem, you’ll figure it out.”

Despite your initial complaints, the rest of the tutoring went by relatively well. You weren’t merely echoing what he was saying. Save for some minor mistakes, you seemed less daunted by the subject compared to before. As long as you took your time working through the problems, Jamil was sure that you would do well enough. But just before you descended back to the dorm’s main building, he had you write down the lesson’s main points. Just to be sure. You were still going to be responsible for teaching Grim in the morning, after all.

“Solid ground, thank God! I was about to freeze up there.” A shiver passed through your body despite your light-hearted laugh. As you were about to walk past him, Jamil grabbed your wrist.

The tips of your fingers were cold. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The tone he used must’ve come out sharper than intended, you flinched before answering.

“Well, because we were already there and you said…the sooner we went, the sooner we’d finish…” you reasoned weakly.

He sighed. “Give me your other hand.”

��I’m fine, really! Just give me a sec—” Your protests fell silent as he shushed you and cupped your hands in his.

Warmth spread from his palms to yours, a simple heating charm. Your hands relaxed in his hold. A stubborn part of him chalked it up to the needed change in temperature.

“Better?” His own cheeks felt warm. It’s the residual magic, he rationalized, the fact that he didn’t use his pen to cast it.

You gave a small nod in response. Your gaze continued to stare at your linked hands.

The edge of your palms were rough, hardened from work. If he shifted his hold, he could feel the bump of a callus on the side of your favored hand.

He let go. “I still need to put the carpet back in the treasury.”

"...no." The word was uttered so quietly that he strained to hear it.

"What?"

Your head snapped up. The moment you made eye contact with each other, Jamil noticed your eyes were blown wide. As if you were a deer caught in the headlights—you reached forwards and yanked his hood over his head. His vision went dark, tearing a surprised noise from his throat. He heard the sound of the drawstrings being pulled taut, followed by the sensation of you pushing him and turning to run away. He stumbled backwards.

Fumbling for the drawstrings of his uniform’s hood, he bit back a curse.

The strings were double-knotted.

[...]

Like every other person, Jamil had dreams. Of reliving certain childhood memories, of being chased and feeling like he was running through water, of having his teeth fall out. Once upon a time, he dreamt of being able to travel around the world once he grew up.

He doesn’t immediately recognize this as a dream. For all he knew, this was one of his usual days at Night Raven College. Robotically going through the motions, running to and fro at Kalim’s behest, reigning in his emotions, staying average and mediocre.

The sound of his class lectures sounded faraway, as if the professors were speaking through water. But as the day continued, he could also hear bits and pieces of your voice. One-sided scraps of conversations, you calling out for your friends, the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, they all stood out against the muffled voices and hazy figures populating the school. Every time he searched, he would only catch a glimpse of your back as you entered a different classroom or the end of your ponytail as you would round a corner. And just before he catch up to you, he would only find a red feather lying on the ground.

It was as if you were a ghost.

He had other things to focus on. He made his way to Scarabia’s mirror and stepped through the glass, arriving at his old room in the servant’s quarters.

Why was he here? Everything was where he left it, untouched and undisturbed. But that did little to tamp down on his rising unease. He turned back to the door and found it locked. The windows were also locked, he was trapped—

The walls fell away to reveal an intricate and ornate birdcage, constructed out of gold, tall enough to reach the ceiling. No longer was he standing on solid ground, he was a little bird standing on a small perch now. No better than the numerous ornaments that decorated the Asim estate.

The door to the room opened revealing you. Dressed in the fine robes of his hometown, golden accessories decorated your wrists, neck, and ears. Your hair was adorned with a single, red macaw’s feather. You looked no different from a noble. A vision to behold. You unlocked the cage and carried him out. He was small enough to fit in your palms.

You gave him a soft smile and smoothed down his feathers. His wings were pinned to his sides but you were careful not to press too hard against the fragile bones. “You weren’t meant to be caged, little one,” you said, walking towards the open window.

No, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t soar. He couldn’t do anything except flail about helplessly in your hold. Useless birdsong spilled from his throat. Each step you took brought him closer and closer to that endless blue sky. He didn’t dare look down.

He could feel the wind now. A light gust that would’ve felt refreshing now sent a spike of adrenaline through his veins. The only thing separating him from the ground was your gentle hold. His breathing quickened, don’t let me go, please don’t let me go—

You were speaking but he couldn’t make out any of the words. Your cupped palms dipped once before throwing him into the blue sky.

And then he was falling down, down, down.

Flapping his clipped wings.

Wind rushing against him.

Blood roaring in his ears.

Screaming mutely until his throat felt raw.

He was going to hit the ground and break all his bones and die why was it taking so long—

Jamil’s eyes cracked open. The first thing he saw was the darkened ceiling of his bedroom. He was still in Scarabia. He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. A glance at his phone screen told him he woke up two hours before his alarm was set to ring.

Might as well get started for the day.

The dream would be quickly forgotten. He would go through the latter classes of the day with a building headache. Even Kalim would notice his discomfort, but his attempts at concern would be waved off.

It was just a dream. And he knew better than to dream.

chapter 3: you're afraid to believe it A/N: first i'd like to thank @jessamine-rose for beta-ing this fic, your fresh eyes were very helpful in convincing me i wasn't going completely crazy😭😭 For my dear readers, i think now would be a good time to mention that I am primarily an angst and hurt/comfort writer so... part 3 will take a bit of a while since i have to resolve all Those Feelings ahhhh.... anyways! i hope you enjoyed reading this, don't be afraid to rb and holler in the tags, i treasure each and every comment💕💕

#dellet-writings #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #g/n reader

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