#going from being so over her routine > finding out magic can be dark too > making her own magical world just by loving her friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raayllum · 3 months

Note

I honestly can't imagine Rayla not dooming the world for Callum if the situation required it. She literally called going to dark places an "act of love."

I mean, there's a few things:

The opinions of anyone working on the show (cast, crew, etc.) are not gospel and not the default, nor do they need to be treated as the be all end all. You can disagree and that's more than gouda

People will give misleading answers and/or answers that are true in the moment (i.e. would S5 Rayla doom the world for him? Maybe not. Would S6 Rayla after some development? If the answer's yes, that's gotta stay under wraps) to avoid potential spoilers

I was actually honestly pretty surprised 1) someone asked such a direct question and 2) even more surprised that it got directly answered, since it feels like it could skirt into spoilery territory potentially for next season given the possession plot line. (I was personally gunning for a "what do you think Rayla and Claudia would think of Callum's S5 dark magic use, if they knew?")

I will admit Paula's response was, admittedly, what I've leaned to for Rayla as a whole in terms of that World vs Loved One binary. One of the things that makes Ezran and Rayla interesting to me was the uncertainty of "would they risk [insert thing here] for their immediate circle of loved ones" routinely being a "I don't know." Not that they necessarily 100% wouldn't, but just that I was genuinely 50-50 split on whether they would, or leaned towards No or Yes but could see the other way being plausible too. That uncertainty paired with the certainty I had that Callum would, and that contrast, has always been one of my favourite things about the Trio as a unit and Rayllum as a duo. It's one of the reasons that Heart vs Duty conflict for Rayla as a character has always been so compelling to me and why 4x07's introduction of the "You have to kill me" conflict was so (and is) exciting!!

But I digress.

I don't think that Rayla's letter is the best example of what I think you're trying to illustrate (I'll raise something I think that is perhaps more indicative in a moment) purely because the whole reason Rayla ultimately left was to protect the world. I've talked about this before in my "Priorities in Through the Moon" meta from ages ago, but Rayla does not go into the portal because she's primarily concerned about finding her parents. Callum researches the portal and helps recreate it and his whole side of things because he wants to help her with her parents, even being the one who brings them up when they resolve to go ahead. Rayla's concerned primarily with Viren, stating her reason for going into the portal even after finding out it requires facing water:

"Listen, Callum. Soren was worried about Viren too. Worried that we never found his body. We need to know what happened to Viren. He's a threat to the whole world! This might be the only way to be sure he's actually gone."

This is in line with how Rayla operates and references her parents in her letter to Callum, given her goodbye exchange for her parents:

Rayla: Surprised you even noticed, considering you've got more important things to do. Lain: Nothing is more important than our favourite child. Rayla: I'm your only child, and you're still leaving me behind for the Dragonguard. Tiadrin: We have to leave, Rayla. For you and for all the other Moonshadow children as well [...] This is our duty that we're doing for Xadia. For you. Someday, I hope you see that.

Just as trust and love are not necessarily synonyms to her, duty and love are not necessarily exclusives. Her parents left out of love for her and for the world, even if that meant prioritizing the world over her in the immediacy of their choice. Rayla leaves to go kill Viren out of a similar mutual desire to protect Callum, yes, but that's mostly there in the fact she left alone and didn't want him to stop her. Not necessarily that she went to hunt down Viren in and of itself, but that she went by herself ("I was trying to protect him. I knew I had to be strong alone"). Protecting the world - and a Viren-less world being one Callum would be safer in by proxy - was worth blowing up her relationships to her.

Going to dark places wasn't what she was doing just to protect Callum - that played a part, too, but her primary goal was to hunt down Viren (going to said dark place) alone and by leaving Callum behind, hence the "Stay safe, and stay in the light. Don't look for me, and don't follow me" - a sacrifice she was making on her own so that Callum wouldn't have to, but still for a collective cause that she deemed meaningful: "I have to make sure Viren never hurts anyone ever again." (Which is also why she goes after Viren again in 4x09, tbh)

That doesn't mean leaving in TTM wasn't also an errorful, self-destructive choice to leave (see like every other TTM meta I've written) but that the goals she could conceptualize was to protect the world, full stop. Anything else along the way (getting closure with her parents, protecting Callum) were extra stops and bonuses to help her have the courage to go through with it, maybe.

This is also in line with how we see Rayla treat other scenarios where it's a choice between individuals / individual relationships vs the potential to help or harm the greater good

Prioritizing the world / new mission of stopping the assassination mission > her relationship with Runaan ("This is a miracle, a chance for peace!") in 1x03

Being willing to and convincing Callum to let Ezran search for the egg under the ice in 1x06

"Then it's time to go. War's coming like the world's never seen, unless we get the wee dragon home to his mom" (2x01)

"Callum, I know you trust them, but by the time we know the truth, it'll be too late. Do you understand? We'll lose everything" (2x03)

"So please, allow him to pass into Xadia and help bring the Dragon Prince home. Because I don't think I can do it without him" (3x01)

Do I even need to specify 3x09? Or TTM?

"I hate it too, but we have to keep moving [...] We can't save everyone, Soren. There's too much at stake. I'm leaving, and you better be right behind me" (4x05)

"If I threw the coins in the lava, would it release their spirits? Or would they just be trapped in some of eternal burning agony? Let's trade. You let him go, and I'll give you the coins." "I'm not making a deal with you!" (4x09)

"I love you, and I haven't forgotten about you. But I can't help you yet. Because right now, the world needs me. Callum and Ezran need. There's a great evil trying to return to Xadia, and we have to stop it, at any cost" (5x01)

"It hurts me to know they're trapped like this. It's agonizing. But I know our mission comes first. The world is in danger, and you can trust me to stay focused" (5x04)

This is, arguably, the strongest core trait she has in common with Viren, just for the record, especially in arc 1. He's very greater good centric as well, just with the push of his own ego and thirst for power + he only considers humanity's concerns, whereas Rayla has minimal pride and arguably not enough ego, and she wants to improve situations for everybody on a collective scale post-1x02 onwards.

The exceptions to this consistent behaviour is largely 2x07 and 3x08, which I've talked about more in my Dragon Quartet meta (from Dec 2019 good god??). These are arguably two of the times, in addition to TTM in some ways, where Rayla is operating the most out of her emotional core ("My allegiance is to my heart" —Tales of Xadia) and what feels 'right' on that level. For better or for worse.

"That dragon was defenceless, and I just left there." / "So I have to stay, and defend the Dragon Queen."

I say Rayla is at her most emotional largely because in each scenario she's abandoning the mission of keeping Zym safe (and thereby her own identified "world's best hope" for peace) in favour of protecting a different individual dragon. This seems to go completely against the "mission first" if indeed, like in 1x03, Rayla can abandon one mission she's devoted herself to in favour of another one just like that [snaps fingers]. If she cares about the world first, why prioritize these individuals, neither of whom she particularly knows or personally cares about? BH also spells this out for us, since it's likewise a mirror to her offering to go up into the tower with Callum to defend Harrow even though the egg should technically be her first priority:

But to Runaan and those like your parents, love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close.

In 2x07, Rayla is at her best, if least logical, whereas in 3x08 she is at worst (until arguably S4) and likewise her least logical ("I know you feel guilty, but you're not thinking straight"). In each scenario the boys stand a Much better chance of survival and of accomplishing their mission with her from just an objective point of view (they don't know Xadia's terrain at that point and circa 2x07, neither could really be combatants in a fight since Callum didn't have a weapon or primal magic). We could slap an easy "you're being a dumbass and dooming the world" label on it and be done with it. But not only does Rayla think the boys are fully capable of completing their mission without her ("I believe in you") but 'the world' as a stake never enters her mind.

Instead, Rayla looks at each as an individual last stand where the only neck on the chopping block is ('rightfully') hers. Whether she's right or not to do so regardless of how she frames it is debatable (I personally view it as understandable, admirable, but more than a little short sighted or guilt ridden considering The Stakes), but that very much seems to be the thought process.

She's not risking the world, in her mind. All she's risking is herself.

And that's perfectly acceptable to her as a trade off. It always has been. It's one of the perfect kind of microcosms of the cognitive dissonance she lives under, where why should she care about herself when there's bigger fish to fry ("Don't worry about my hand; the egg is all that matters now") ignoring the fact that 1) she can & arguably should let herself care about two things at once and 2) she's going to be much less effective as a team member / dual wielder if she's recovering from a messy at best recent amputation.

This path of "Rayla works to save Callum because she doesn't care about what happens to herself" is admittedly probably the option I leaned towards most when it comes to Rayla in S6, even if I do wonder how it might be streamlined time / arc wise cause it does elongate her arc further. Either way, this is the route that lets her not kill Callum, working free him instead while also being able to justify trying to free him to herself, because she's not conceptualizing the Big Picture. She's narrowing it down to him and her and deciding if one of them has to get hurt in order for him to be freed, it's gonna be her.

It's not the Character Development route as I call it, but it sure is consistent.

TLDR; While I still lean towards Rayla having an ultimately positive impact (i.e. breaking Callum free from potential brainwashing) in s6, it would not surprise me at all if from her perspective it is framed as a self-sacrificial move on her end > a big picture risk to the world, even if that's how Callum may see it.

More thoughts on Rayla + the possession plotline in S6 here, here, and here.

#thanks for asking #anonymous #tdp rayla #i need you to kill me #my heart for xadia #analysis series #analysis #christ this got long #it's like. rayla's act of love is also filtered through callum's request to murder him as well #whereas viren lost sight of his love for the individual or the collective #and callum prioritizes the collective until it's his two ppl on the line #none of them are perfect avenues (altho viren's is defs the worst) but c&r are all coming from Valid Places

20 notes · View notes

xxmyhomexx · 3 months

Text

SONG OF THE CRIMSON NILE: Danger

I have a fan theory now because of the new update. Amen and Eva get their happy ending with their two children, their 15-year-old daughter Bahiti and 11-year-old son Zahur.

Ramesses is now in charge of training people in the dark arts, Livius works as a personal healer, Agnia still works alongside Amen, and Amen and Eva have a happy marriage. Unfortunately, Remmao is still out there on the run from the hunters.

Eva and Amen believe he's dead because of how many years have passed, but he surprisingly shows up one. He finds out Eva has two children, and he ends up going after the family. He decides to go after Bahiti because she's their only daughter. He sees she looks just like Amen, similar in face but with long white hair and big milky blue eyes. She's gorgeous and the perfect target...or so he thinks.

Bahiti stays up in bed late one night reading from an old magic tome, a usual routine because of her love for reading. Unfortunately, Remmao sneaks up behind her while she reads.

"Keep quiet," he warns her. "Or I'll cut out your tongue right now."

"Who..." Bahiti demands. "Who are you?"

"Ah," Remmao smirks. "Your mother's never mentioned me, has she?"

"Wait..." Bahiti panics. "You're...her old mentor!"

Remmao laughs. "Clever girl. Now don't speak and things will end rather quickly without so much pain."

"W-wait!" Bahiti pleads. "We...we can make a deal!"

Remmao scoffs. "Oh? And what kind of deal?"

Bahiti's panic masks into that of a cold, calculated teenager. "The kind of deal that has YOUR tongue being cut out!"

In a flash, she rips a hidden knife from the robe of her night clothes and stabs him in the thigh. Remmao screams, causing him to drop his own knife that she catches and stabs him in the other thigh, forcing him on his knees.

"AAAGH!" Remmao screams. Bahiti glares down at him, grabbing his chin and forcing his mouth open.

"Did you really think my family didn't warn us about you?" She spits. "You have some nerve showing up."

Remmao gurgles as she forces the sharp end of her dagger into his mouth.

"You overestimated your success," Bahiti smirks. "First, NEVER sneak up on the daughter of the Supreme Epistates. Second, that dagger you tried to stab me with...I could smell what was on it before you even snuck up on me."

Remmao's jaw flexes and his amber eyes bug. The poison...how could she have...

"You used too much," Bahiti shrugs. "And that's not even poison...it's a paralysis elixir. It only paralyzes your victim for two minutes, but in your case you coated your knife in an entire bottle.

Remmao looked down at his thigh where his own knife was embedded. In seconds, he could no longer feel his muscles or his hands, not anything! He groaned as Bahiti stepped back, falling onto his back. In one swift move, he watched as she grabbed the hilt of the knife and yanked it out.

"Agh!" His tongue felt swollen as she flung it to the side.

"FATHER!" Bahiti shouts. "HE'S IN HERE!"

The door bursts open and Amen comes running inside. He stands right over Remmao's crumpled body, pleased that his family pulled off something as easy as this. Eva comes running inside as well, past her husband and toward her daughter.

"Oh my baby!" She grabs her and nestles her in her arms. "Are you ok? Did he hurt you?!"

In her arms, Bahiti slumps forward. She shakes her head. "No...I'm ok."

Two hunters enter the room as Amen flings Remmao toward them.

"Take him to the tower," he orders. "Let him face justice there."

Remmao groans as he's escorted out. Amen sighs as he turns to Eva and Bahiti. He kneels before her, cupping her face.

"You were so brave," he smiles.

However, her face crumbles and fresh tears pour down her cheeks. "I...I was still scared!"

She wraps her arms around his neck.

"It's over now," Eva promises. "You're safe. You and your brother both."

"Mom? Dad?" They all turn to see Zahur peaking inside. "Is it over? Did you get him?"

"Yes. We did."

Zahur runs over as Amen holds him close. Eva smiles.

"This is what it means to be brave," she tells them. "Sometimes you both must fight your own battles."

#romance club #song of the crimson nile #rc evthys #rc amen

22 notes · View notes

misseviehyde · 1 year

Text

OVER HIS HEAD

Jenna was mad. She wanted to be the new Head Cheerleader, as was her right - but that bitch Madison had hidden the magic pom-poms somewhere in school before she left.

Whoever used the Pom Pom's would be infused by their evil magic - being transformed into a spiteful, mean, popular bitch. They would become an irresistible force and the new Head Cheerleader.

By tradition each Head cheerleader passed the pom poms onto a chosen second when the time was right - but Jenna and Madison had argued last week and the other girl had hidden the pom poms for revenge.

Madison was moving to live in Europe and couldn't give a shit that Jenna wasn't strong or sexy enough without the pom poms to rule the school. "If you want the power you'll have to fucking earn it," she'd sneered. "Good luck finding them."

Now Jenna was scouring the school in desperation and she had forced her loser brother Hunter to help her. She had him running around the building searching every cupboard and locker with her. He had been told to bring the pom poms to her at once if he found them.

Yanking open one of the lockers, Hunter yelled triumphantly as he suddenly found the white and black pom poms. Picking them up he called to Jenna. "Sis I found them."

Holding them over his head he shook them to show her.

"Noooooo you idiot... don't do that," she gasped in horror - but it was too late.

The Pom Poms glowed... and thinking they had just begun a routine they came to life. Hunter squeaked in panic as his arms began to move automatically in the first parts of a cheerleading routine.

Dark energy flowed down from the pom poms into Hunter. He groaned as a delicious feeling of superiority and dominance filled him. His mouth opened and strange words came out.

We're fired up,

We're bitchy

We're turning up the heat.

The power of these pom poms (clap,clap,clap)

Never can be beat!

With a moan Hunter threw back his head and his bones cracked and shifted. His body doubled in on itself become smaller and slender, but with a curvy and toned physique.

Hunter's short blonde hair lengthened and gathered into two pig tail bunches as his face became more symmetrical and softer with pouting pink lips and big blue eyes.

With a groan he pushed out his chest and his shirt stretched as two full, firm breasts swelled out.

His clothing began to change... melting and reforming into the skimpiest, tiniest little mini-skirt and cheerleading top. Makeup flowed over his face as tiny diamond stud earrings popped into his ears and his fingernails turned a glossy black to match his outfit.

Hunter giggled as she felt her cock slide back up inside her and she wiggled her hips and bum happily as she enjoyed the feeling of having a pussy instead.

"Oooh like wow sis... now I like totally see why you wanted these pom poms."

Twirling athletically Hunter performed a few more steps of her routine effortlessly. "Too bad I'M the new Head Cheerleader. You don't mind do you bitch?"

Jenna sobbed as she felt an irresistible urge to obey and serve Hunter filling her. The power of the pom poms was warping her mind and making her want to please and satisfy the other girl.

"No Hunter... you're so much better than me... I'm happy to be in your squad and obey you."

"Good girl," purred Hunter with a wicked grin. "Now let me put these somewhere safe and then let's go have some fun. I have so much to do and enjoy now I'm in charge."

She winked at Jenna.

"Better luck next time sis."

#evie hyde #m2f transformation #m2f corruption #tg cheerleader #bitchification

103 notes · View notes

slytherinsomniari · 17 days

Text

HL OC: Oleana

Introducing my Hogwarts Legacy OC Oleana!

TRIGGER WARNING: Historical depictions of prostitution. Please be warned before you proceed, but know that she is not traumatized, she is away from that experience & living her best life.

Bio:

Oleana was born and raised in the alleyways in the depths of the dark side of Hogsmeade, close to the Hog's Head Inn. She doesn't know who her parents are so she was raised by the other girls in her profession, one of which used to be in a higher class. They taught her to read and write. Her name comes from a book on Herbology and poison they gave her to practice reading with, coming from the Oleander or Nerium plant—a pretty but poisonous plant. This routine continued until she turned 11, having to begin earning her keep in the streets.

She lived her life like that for years until she was 15. Despite this, she has always been cheerful and kind, with a curious mind and playful flirty nature. She didn't think much of her life, thinking it was just her lot, but she did look at the Hogwarts students that came to Hogsmeade from afar from her place in the alley, wondering what it was like to be like them. Her life continued until one day she offered her services to a man who turned out to be Professor Sharp.

Instead of accepting them, he told her to come with him to his office at Hogwarts & to her surprise, she was offered a place as a student. She would have to do menial chores around the castle to cover for her lack of funds, seeing as how she spent them on being able to live and have books. Full of surprise and wonder, she accepts his offer and is sorted into Ravenclaw. She is finally going to be a normal teenager and a student at Hogwarts, just like the people she's seen before. Professor Sharp is like a father to her and finds her too adorable for words. He fangirls over her cuteness, which she enjoys. Her excitement and curiosity is so overpowering that one day she ran barefoot into the forbidden forest to meet a hippogriff. She finds one & does a mixture of a bow and curtsy, and soon befriends it. She has a thirst for knowledge & no boundaries on what is acceptable, so she often puts herself in sudden situations just to satisfy her curiosity.

She is 15 because the MC is 15 (she is not the MC, she has no ancient magic) and so that she can have a few years as a student so she can learn and meet people her age more naturally. I didn’t want to bend too many rules when creating her for this world. I wanted her to kind of fit it, like my other characters. I did not go into this wanting her to be a child. This started off as a self insert character ai chat with Professor Sharp and she has become her own character. I love her so much she's my baby 🥹 I hope I haven't offended anyone with her, but please let me know if I have.

#harry potter #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hl mc #hl oc #harry potter oc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanart #Oleana #Oleana Sharp #aesop sharp #professor sharp #trigger warning #historical depiction of prostitution #I’m sorry I love British history okay

4 notes · View notes

justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 8 months

Note

hi! i asked for matchup as anon before, but now i'll to this with my ✨account✨

if it's not a problem of course (⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

soo could i get matchup for howl's moving castle, bungou stray dogs and one punch man? (⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

my pronouns are she/her

i'm demisexual panromantic

i'm enfp 7w8, leo

i'm 6'0 and have amber eyes, long gold blond curly hair and hourglass figure

i'm positive and upbeat person, i try to see the bright side in most situations

i'm friendly, energetic, confident, sarcastic, responsible, maybe a bit chaotic, cheerful and bubbly

i care about my friends and family a lot, and go out of my way to show it

i enjoy having fun and living life to the fullest

i'm very competitive and passionate person

i really like puzzles, riddles and crosswords

i love making people smile

i have morbid, dark sense of humor

sometimes i randomly say a weird obscure fact in the middle of conversation

i can play on violin, cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, harp and drums, i'm currently learning how to play on trumpet

i like poetry and sometimes i write a poem or two, also i'm writing my book

i'm ballet dancer since i was a kid and i love performing

i'm working on my own cartoon

i never quite grew out of the fantasy phase, and i'm still enamored with tales of changelings and witches

i work as illustrator for fantasy books and books for kids

i'm kinda struggling with taking rest, doing nothing, because there is always something to do, something new to learn, etc.

i'm afraid of stagnation

i overuse this kind of emojis→(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

my style is something between whimsigothic and cryptidcore

i love: collecting things, astronomy, tea, making and watching movies, forests, making jewelry, cooking, baking, d&d, horrors, animals, plants, gardening, traveling, art, history, world mythologies, learning new things, psychology, handicraft

also i want to thank you for my previous matchup, i loved it ( ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

i hope it's not a problem that i asked again (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)

if it is, feel free to ignore my ask!

have a wonderful and fantastic day!

(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Hi! Absolutely you can get another matchup! I'm glad you liked the last one. Sorry this one took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Howl's Moving Castle, I match you with...

Sophie loves both your positivity and your sarcasm. You’re very similar to her in that way and she likes that you can bond over things like tormenting Howl.

Loves listening to you play music. I see Sophie as someone who is too shy to dance but is actually surprisingly good at it.

There’s no stagnation to be found in this relationship! Between getting on the wrong side of witches, travelling around in the moving castle, and getting caught up in Howls’ shenanigans, you and Sophie both have your hands full.

Sophie would enjoy cooking and baking with you. She’s glad there’s someone else around who is responsible enough to help out around the castle. Plus, it’s nice being able to spend time with you.

She would also love gardening with you. She finds it relaxing and you both get to contribute to the layout of the garden. If you have any interest in the meaning behind flowers, Sophie will read up on them and put messages into her flower arrangements while gardening.

Very good at helping you take rests. She’s got a magic touch when it comes to those sorts of things and knows exactly when you need to take a break. She’ll lure you away from whatever you were doing with the promise of freshly cooked food and cuddles.

In Bungo Stray Dogs, I match you with...

Stagnation? With Dazai around? I don’t think so. This guy will find a way to turn even the most boring routine into a chaotic mess.

Hope you like your plans getting derailed every few minutes because that’s what’s going to happen when you’re in a relationship with Dazai.

He loves your sense of humour so much. He’s got some issues and covers them up with dark humour so he’s glad you have the same style. He feels better making those sorts of jokes knowing they won’t make you uncomfortable.

Dazai would love to read anything you write. In his eyes whatever you’ve written is wonderful but he will always try to give you balanced feedback; some things he liked, some things you could improve on.

Dazai also struggles with taking care of himself and having breaks. Set alarms to go off through your day and every time they rouse you from your work, you both have to have a snack, drink some water, and have a quick walk around the house/office/wherever you are.

It’s good for both your mental and physical health. Plus, it keeps fights to a minimum in your relationship since neither of you are pushing yourselves past the breaking point.

In One Punch Man, I match you with...

Okay, hear me out! I think you and Saitama would get along really well. You both dislike stagnation, it’s just that Saitama has found himself in a situation where that’s the one constant in his life.

With all your hobbies, Saitama will dedicate himself to learning everything he can about all of them. That way, no matter what you’re doing or talking about, he knows enough to provide constructive comments.

He is also better able to appreciate the work that goes into all of your hobbies this way.

Please get him into D&D. Having a weak character is a nice change for him and I think he would enjoy the escapism of the game. Just be careful he doesn’t level up too fast…

Your positivity is a nice change of pace for Saitama. He’s surrounded by angsty and serious people all the time so you’re a nice break away from all that.

But at the same time, he loves your sarcasm. It might take a while for him to start showing emotions around you since he’s not a super expressive person to begin with, but whenever you make a sarcastic comment, you’ll catch a small smile on his face.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #howl's moving castle #sophie hatter #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai #one punch man #saitama

3 notes · View notes

spacecadetspe · 3 months

Text

A snippet from Last Year…

Jan. 24, 2023

Almost immediately following my interaction with the bounty hunters, an incursion group arrived from the UFU. Cure, who was onsite at the time, felt a malicious presence with them and took them out. So I had to resurrect them and get them to tell me what's going on.

As it turns out, they were from a unit headed by Charon. They're in frequent contact with the head of the repository, Baidar, who regularly helps them piece souls back together if they're too damaged to be processed. And, in a sense, Cure's empathy was spot-on: they brought nine corrupted hamingja (soul shards) from one of the dudes I made an example of in my apartment.

While they collaborated with Baidar, Morpheus took me aside and introduced the idea of using my aspects to infiltrate the black market, maybe cause a little ruckus, and do some minor espionage. I called upon Benzaiten for the mission, and she seems like she's up to the challenge.

In the mean time, I've been staying at Nyx's temple. Other than going Home, it's one of the few places where no one can find me. I can safely hide my presence from... just about anyone. I've been able to travel without being accosted, and that's helpful, although her magic does make me sleepy.

I followed Morpheus through a routine night, and watched how often he got yelled at. I wasn't aware of how stressful it was, being him, arranging everything. At the end of the night, I reached out and took him by the hand to try to comfort him. Damn empathy. As soon as I did, Nyx's umbrakinesis spell broke, and a stabbing pain hit my solar plexus. Apparently someone is still watching my apartment, and they shot me with a crossbow bolt. Morpheus responded quickly by pushing me back into the shadows, but by then it was too late. My solar was ruptured again, and that stressor had triggered something new and painful.

The majordomo, Lucas, has been very kind and caring in lieu of me being a bit fragile. He seems to be able to tell when I'm feeling Benzaiten's wounds, and brings me remedies for my aches and pains.

Benten, for her part, has sent a few bits of information over our telepathic link. The black market is an unfriendly place, and even though there was a fairly civilized auction, the deciding factor of ownership was nearly always violence. She suggested I speak with the disgraced Hermes about how to handle this.

It seems he overheard her, and sent me a little dream, himself: some dark goon holding his severed head. An indicator that he's less than willing to participate. No great surprise.

I spoke with Queen Athena (long may she reign), and I told her I wasn't sure of the dream's origins. She assured me Hermes was alive and (mostly) well in Corinth. After the death of his father, I removed his powers and his godhood. It's what happens when you side with the enemy.

Honestly, Hermes and I have a mixed relationship. An Olympian through and through, he once led the thieves' guild, headed commerce and message systems, and partied as hard as he worked. That wasn't always a good thing. In case I hadn't mentioned it, he fathered my son, Autolycus. That was not a fun union, and my aspect, Chione, was only 14 at the time.

But if Mother and Benzaiten still think he's useful, I'll give it a shot. And that's what I did. I took a little trip to visit him (Melinoë insisted on coming with me) and spent the day trying to figure out what to do next. He was prepared to give a little advice, but currently seems content to mope around and let the world go on without him for awhile.

Melinoe, on the other hand, had a favor to call in. She wanted the torch of Eubuleus back, since it's been missing for some time. Hermes didn't have it, said the bounty hunters would know where it was, and probably expected us to go off on some fetch quest to retrieve it. That's just not how I do things. So I got the torch back (pulled it out of thin air, which always amuses Fortitude), and tried to convince Hermes to join me.

I got a little emotional, I'll admit. I was still triggered from that night following Morpheus around, and being pushed away was just the final straw. So I snapped at him. After I calmed down, I mentioned I could feel Benten's injuries and needed to get out of the open. Melinoe gave me the torch and said she'd stay to talk to Hermes while I went back to Nyx's temple.

Nyx welcomed me back, and informed me that I had someone waiting for me. Hades, as it turned out. The one who had lost the torch in the first place. I gave it back to him, and we had a short conversation about what had happened. He said I could handle Hermes however I liked, and called him a "vicious little shit." He recognized I was injured and helped me into bed, and waited with me until Nyx called a healer.

I need to do something soon, but anxiety will get me nowhere.

#mythology and folklore #dreams #magic #spicy psychology

0 notes

nialltlynch · 1 year

Note

from the fridge: until the sky falls dowwn on me and the working for the knife (feniall version)

ehehehe the sky fall one is my One and Only foray into canon compliant pynch WHICH should make it obvious why it is in the fridge. the difficulty came from having basically two ideas 1) the outward expression of oncoming, inevitable winter paralleling the uncertainty of a relationships future and 2) ronan and adam fucking in ronan's parent's old bed and being Decidedly Weird about it. two very different vibes so hopefully you can understand my trouble. and yeah it was named after that savage garden song.

are you familiar with my aurora knife fic ?? (feniall version) is a spiritual companion piece that explores feniall and mór's relationship in a similar way. it hinges on the magical memory bag and how that... is a fucked up concept !!! i may actually finish this one since i have very many thoughts about this.

my wip fridge: the post

until the sky falls down on me

Morning arrives as usual.

Slow and tantalizing, a sudden creep of clarity in the deep night. It is early enough that the only light in the room glows off two small spheres the size of marbles caught in elliptical orbit. The flicker like natural fire but Ronan knows they are cool, almost liquid to the touch. Not that there is anything to be done in his current state. Ronan doesn't flinch as he watches the bauble graze closer and closer to Adam's sleeping face. Each pass spreads thin, gauzy shadows over the slopes and ridges Ronan has become so familiar with these past few months.

He's learned to breathe through these things.

Time eating away at the fabric of the Barns seems unfathomable. The summer had been a glimpse of unattainable myth and now here it is, the reality of it on the cusp of vanishing.In the dark it's easy to think that nothing has changed and easier still to imagine sameness forever. Ronan can remember when the thought had been terrifying. Something delicate had shifted, small increments barely noticed, until there had been no single moment when he had changed his mind except that the same fervor he'd ran from routine he now ran toward it. This is a morning like all the others. He prays it never ends.

The Adam tucked between Ronan and the familiar wooden walls of this room is the same Adam as all the other nights. Here in the slow, familiar morning, Ronan still has Adam as he remembers.

Ronan blinks as the light sparks in his eyes, the familiar warmth of the bed falling over him. His hands reach for Adam like instinct, snaking through the dark without need for sight. Fear is a constant thing that sleeps in his body - stuck in his muscles, taking up space in his throat. He wakes each morning intensely afraid that something in between night and now might have changed irreparably. Even in the dark Ronan can feel the moment Adam snaps awake and this, too, is graciously familiar.

Adam shifts under the covers and reaches out to catch one of the light baubles in the gentle pinch of his fingers. It spins on itself, growing listless and less robust in the absence of its twin. Adam releases it. Gravity stabilizes the two lights back into delighted dancing orbit. He turns to Ronan.

working for the knife (feniall version)

I find the memory again, splintered and weaved into others that look just like it, but I recognize the crease of his eyelid. The curl in his hair. This is already done.

I hold my palm to her trembling mouth, force her to swallow the whisps of her regret.

"You're going to remember this, love, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I hold it for her. Every heavy thing. But this I will not take away. She will ask me night after night (these I will gather to be lost in the river. do not call me a hypocrite. this is not my fault) but I will not lessen her burden. She must know the pain she's caused him. Feel it even if she does not understand it. This is all I ask her to carry.

Some things are too heavy even for me.

#asks and answers #kk writing #the wip fridge

0 notes

sesaxton · 1 year

Text

We All Need A Little Christmas cheer

Sitting here in Starbucks after a very stressful few months sipping out of a holiday cup. Only retail stores show any sign of Christmas. Yes I know it is only November but what is wrong with celebrating for two months? Its acceptable for Halloween why not for Christmas? Christmas has always been my favorite time a year. A whole new excitement comes with it and a warm happy feeling. With so much bad stuff always happening I need Christmas.

We had to make some temporary changes in my life that has added a whole new kind of stress and depression on me. I feel like I am constantly going with no end in site. My beautiful baby thinks 5/6 am is morning even though it is still dark. If she sleeps all night I cant protest to that. I pick her up and she hugs me with her sweet little arms then I give her a bottle before her puree breakfast with a side of berries. My husband will get up a bit later to feed the dogs and get ready for work. He will take the baby after he is ready so I can eat breakfast and get dressed for the day. After im ready he will kiss us both and head out for the day. My baby girl loves him so much and he is such an amazing dad. The bond those two have bring tears to my eyes.

Then I go on with my day, trying to entertain a 8 month old all the while trying to teach her new things and keep her from screaming for no reason other than she likes to scream. I am lucky if I get laundry started before he comes back home. I put a Christmas movie on in the background as she isn't interested in tv yet. It calms me a bit. I usually have the baby fed, bathed and ready for bed before my husband returns. He takes over after he winds down and he gets her to bed for the night. We are a great team. I have just been so overwhelmed; by not only this routine (Which I know it doesn't sound like much) but by other things going on in the background I wont post for privacy reasons. So many things going on I have a constant headache and a feeling that the walls are closing in on me. Today my husband let me take a mental health day. Sadly nothing is going how I want it to and I feel more defeated. I probably need to mediate again but its tricky to find the time and a quiet place to do it. So this brings me back to Christmas the one thing I can hold onto.

One of the great feelings I remember as a child or even a teen is the warm feeling at home. The warmth from the fireplace, the soft glow of the Christmas tree and the smell of fresh cookies being made. One of the cats curled up next to the fireplace and does the little mrrr when it sees me and lets me pet its soft fur. The warm heat on my face as I admire the tree I helped decorate. Each ornament had a special story or place in our hearts. Under the tree a ton of gifts carefully wrapped by my mother and put out too early because that's what we do. Later that night we would put on a Christmas movie we would all agree upon and laugh at the jokes we have heard a million times. My family that is what makes my Christmas magical. It is hard to always have ones that don't understand that. My ex and my new husband their Christmases weren't as magical and they didn't get or give gifts like mine did. (not that it is about gifts at all. However my mom and mine love language is gift giving).

So if all I have is Christmas then I will celebrate the best I can with the little I have. Christmas has done me good and I will keep it all year long!

#christmas #celebrate #Baby #Stress

0 notes

raayllum · 2 years

Text

Because I’ve been listening to “Poison” by Rita Ora and Reckless Driving / Orange Show Speedway by Lizzy McAlpine too much let’s talk about the

Rayla’s Duality as Callum’s Destruction and Salvation

Rayla is a character informed by duality. A compassionate ‘monster,’ a dual wielder of blades, her symmetrical markings, an assassin turned ally turned friend and lover. She embodies the moon accordingly, both secretive in what she tries to hide and too transparent to almost ever do so successfully. One of her biggest gripes in S1, after all, is that she cannot divorce herself from caring about Callum — what he thinks, what he feels about her — and she cannot successfully hide herself from him. She takes her hood off in front of him once — and she can never fully put it back on.

I tie this into Rayla’s embodiment of the moon due to the dark and light sides she subsequently represents, which I’ve delved more into here. I also think it’s especially interesting that going forward into season four, Callum is actively seeking secrets regarding the mirror, while Rayla will (eventually) be trying to free her family from the coins; they are both, unknowingly, symbolically chasing after each other’s primal and personal embodiments.

But, to stay on task, how does a duality of being both Callum’s salvation and destruction inform Rayla and their relationship?

Well it begins accordingly with their first meeting. As noted in the meta linked above, Rayla is routinely linked to light; her eyes illuminated in a flash of lightning before she shows mercy, arriving during the daytime at the castle, walking through a brightly lit doorway even as she stares Callum down, swords in hand.

In the same night she threatens to kill him, she also saves his life. Over the course of a few hours they go from reluctant enemies to fire forged allies, already placing each other’s lives in one another’s hands. This is reflected even in the way Rayla is the catalyst for destroying one of Callum’s prior relationships — Claudia — or at least setting it in motion, while she also gives Callum a new relationship — herself — and perspective on magic.

Callum’s search for magic will eventually lead him to both high-highs and low-lows, and bring out the worst and best in him. But more on that later.

Then there’s also the consistent pattern of Rayla getting Callum into ‘death’ adjacent situations... and also getting him out of them. She drops the egg that leads Ezran to going under the ice, but she also is the one who realizes Ez is alive and gets him out, restoring Callum’s family to him. Callum takes his initial anger and grief out on her regarding Harrow, but also returns to find comfort in her arms, and her arms alone.

Rayla is the both the calm before the storm, the storm itself, and the aftermath, transforming him radically with unconditional acceptance as they go.

Then, of course, there are the many times over the course of the series where Rayla saves Callum’s life or cautions him against risking himself, most consistently seen in 2x04, 3x01, and 3x05.

The “Book One: Moon” novelization actually makes this duality explicit, as Rayla explains the difference between moon berries and death berries, and how to tell them apart.

“Wow. So they look identical, but they might kill you or they might save you,” Callum said.

“Exactly. Just like me…” Rayla smiled.

This is also reaffirmed in TTM, and we’ll touch on this more later, but: the first and last thing Rayla does in series, currently, is try to spare Callum’s life. In 1x02, it’s a terse declaration of “You don’t have to die; there are only two targets tonight.” Then in TTM, it’s Rayla being adamant that this matter should only involve her and Viren, and she can’t let Callum be dragged down with her: “I can’t risk you coming with me [...] I’m sorry.” And put a pin in that, cause we’re gonna revisit her choice in TTM as well as the Leap in 3x09, too.

The ultimate theme that ties this all together is one that underlies many platonic, romantic, and familial relationships in the series, is

Love to the Point of Self-Destruction

We see this in many relationships in show. Harrow pursues vengeance and dark magic, decisions he knows are bad and possibly short-sighted, due to his love/grief for Sarai. Viren loved Harrow to the point of being willing to give up his life, but that was destroyed in an instant. We see this perhaps most notably in Claudia, who is willing to tear herself to pieces in order to keep her family together.

We see this in both Callum and Rayla’s relationship with one another. After all, the Leap is so notable because it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Callum would rather die with Rayla than live without her, that if there is any chance to save her even at great cost to himself, he will take it.

But the Leap works out well. What about the times that it doesn’t, and the action is almost solely self-destructive? We see this most notably in Callum’s choice to do Dark Magic in 2x07 to save her and her choice to leave in TTM, as these are similar “I’m making a choice I know you’ll hate to try and protect you, damn the consequences” choices with mirroring motifs to boot (broader meta about the similarities here). We also see the increasing instability these choices wring of each other, as well. Rayla is broken down to tears on her knees when Callum falls ill, forced to beg and bargain for his life by her own love and conscience. Rayla’s choice to go into the portal is motivated mostly by her shame and guilt, but also love for her family and for Callum (as she is already worried about his well-being if Viren lives) and similarly brings Callum to his knees.

However, one of the most interesting aspects here is how Rayla’s duality as Callum’s destruction is that in and of itself can be two-fold. In trying to save his life in TTM by leaving, she basically destroyed their relationship and his heart in the process, however unintentionally they knew it both was. Rayla threatened to kill him in 1x02 and over three seasons later, she has, in some ways, finally finished the job. Just as she thought she had to kill a king and prince of Katolis, she did so; just not the ones (Viren and Callum vs Harrow and Ezran) that she expected.

And yet, according to Tarot and other associations, there’s more than one meaning to death, literal or metaphorical, which is to say

Death as Transformation

In Tarot and many mythic traditions, death operates as transformation rather than just destruction. This is also where Rayla’s path as Callum’s salvation, and indeed each other’s, comes in. Just as Callum strips away Rayla’s prior identity as a straightforward assassin by encouraging her to break the cycle, Rayla restores to him a sense of purpose and self-confidence he never had before by guiding his path to magic. Without having done dark magic in order to save her, Callum’s path to or ability to unlock primal magic could’ve looked completely different, if it happened at all.

We can see this in his sort of rebirth following Rayla’s departure in TTM, even if it’s somewhat for the worst. And we can see the best of it in the Leap, in which Callum stares down death and the love of his life...

and transforms, saving not only himself, but her as well.

Where do we go from here?

Doubling as a conclusion, the question of where do we go from here is an interesting one. What I can say is that I expect this pattern and duality to continue to play out, before it’s finally resolved in a mutual salvation type situation of selfless, non-destructive love, where choosing the other person is almost synonymous of choosing to love yourself, too.

Death operates as transformative salvation largely because true growth cannot exist without destruction of the old, without the acceptance that you can never go back to exactly who you were before, but must move onwards and forge a new identity by pushing on ahead.

I expect something adjacent to this duality to play out in S4, perhaps with Callum’s vulnerability or love of Rayla leading to him being manipulated/used, but also being what saves and frees him in the end - and the same for Rayla as well.

But for now, we’ll just have to see!

#rayllum #tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #arc 1 #through the moon #every separation is a link #analysis #analysis series #parallels #didn't say quite everything i wanted to but i wouldn't be surprised if i expand on this more after s4 #as always relevant tie in to #cube hostage exchange theory #in thematic principle if nothing else

157 notes · View notes

atinywhore · 2 years

Text

no one gets to touch what's mine or have you forgotten?

pairing: yunho x (fem) reader

word count: 3030

genre: ohhhh, just some smut once again

warnings: jealous and dom yunho, yunho's big dick (obs), oral (fem receiving), fingering, praising, degradation (if you squint), unprotected sex (use a condom), "take it" type thing, rough, overstimulation, aftercare, hickies, kinda begging (once again if you squint I guessss)

an: okay so first off, we love a jealous yunho (I finally am writing about my bias yay), second the dance mentioned in this ff is based off of two very talented dancers who did a cover to Sex Trip by Jay Park, so please go watch and support. Also watch so you can see the dance you'll be doing with wooyoung ;) Thirdly, I have a thing I guess for men on there knees for you, so sign up or get out cause I'm here just living my best live. Once again, please be kind and lmk if I missed and warnings and enjoy you dirty hoes <3 -ven

tag list: @ch0isa99ie @mingigoo @ateezinmymind @wickeddarkness-place

“Yunho.. what the fuck. The guys are right out-...” You say meeting the burning look in his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck (y/n). No one gets to touch what’s mine. Or have you forgotten that baby?” Your eyes go wide and a pool of heat now settles in your lower stomach. Shit.. you swore inside your head. I guess the dance worked its magic, maybe just a little too well.

You and Wooyoung had danced together many times, but never like this. No one except your boyfriend was allowed to touch you in this manner. There was never a spoken rule about not being able to touch you, but the members saw first hand just how protective Yunho was of you. After he freaked out on the poor man who moved you by the waist at the karaoke bar you and a few of the other members had gone to. As much as you love his overprotective side, which you really did.. you decided that he needed to be shot down a peg or two. You had mentioned to Wooyoung before how much you wanted to do this dance cover to Sex Trip by Jay Park, and he seemed weary when you showed him the cover, but ultimately he agreed.

The rest of the boys and Yunho came as you two had finished your first run through and were just in time to watch you run it from the beginning. You went to start the music over when Yunho came up behind you, “So what is this surprise cover you wanted to show us puppy?” Putting his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. A smirk flashes on your lips but it quickly falls when you turn around and play your innocent routine to him. “You’ll just have to watch and find out yun.” You stand on your very tippy toes to ruffle his hair and press a quick kiss to his lips. Before heading back to your starting position you say, “but I think you’re really.. Really going to like it.” You hit play on your laptop connected to the speakers and the music begins to play.

~ Yunho pov (Y/n) sauntered over to Wooyung and before they started she took off his shirt she wore leaving her in a black strappy bralette and leggings. His jaw clenched as he sees Wooyoung’s eyes trail over her exposed torso. Wooyoung’s gaze meets Yunho and he quickly gets himself ready to dance. Turning to his other members he gives them a look that could kill. Lets just say his fellow members looked anywhere but at (y/n) during the performance. Leaning against the wall near her laptop he watches the dance begin.

They were doing so well and then Wooyoung places his hands on her waist, grinding into her ass. Yunho’s vision goes red. No one should be touching (y/n) like that but him. An incredible amount of jealousy courses through his veins, making his neck turn red. His brows turn down and his face becomes dark. Next thing he knows is Wooyung’s hand now wraps around her neck and (y/n) face goes slack with what seems to be pleasure. Yunho huffs out a breath of pure rage and crosses his arms at his broad heaving chest. It only gets worse when Wooyoung lifts (y/n) up bridal style and lays her on the ground. She opens her legs and he slides himself right in between and flips her to her stomach using her thighs and then hips once again. The animalistic rage is now indescribable at the sight of his friend putting his hands all over his girl. Wooyoung grabs (y/n)’s hips and pulls her to meet his, sliding his hands up her torso and back, he places a hand at her neck and pushes her face down so she is in the perfect, ass up face down position.

He doesn’t say anything to either of them once they finish. He doesn’t even look at Wooyoung because if he does, he might not be able to fight the urge to cut his friend’s hands off.

~(Y/N) pov

After you and wooyoung finished your cover, the boys took the opportunity to practice the dances to a couple of their songs. After they were satisfied we all went back to the dorm to watch a movie HongJoon has been telling us to watch for weeks now. Yunho had been very withdrawn and downright pissy to everyone, especially Wooyoung. You don’t know why you thought he wouldn’t get upset as he seems to have gotten, but he has. The other members went into the living room even though you wanted to stay to talk to Yunho. Before you could even think about following everyone Yunho grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t anyways.

Walking you through the living room, and down the hallway to his and San’s shared room. He basically whipped you into the room causing you to stumble, thankfully his grip kept you from falling. The door slammed, locking and soon enough you were being moved into the direction of his bed. He towered over you, making you feel like the prey being hunted by the predator. He had you facing him while backing both your bodies slowly until the backs of your knees hit the edge at the foot of his mattress. His naturally dark brown eyes turned black, his gaze causing your breath to come out uneasy. “What’s wrong puppy?” He said, tilting his head. “You scared?” He moved both of your wrists into one of his hands and the other moved its way slowly up your forearm to cup the bottom of your jaw. His thumb causing waves of electricity to prick every inch of skin it caressed. Your knees trembled and a flash of heat raced to your pussy. His thumb moved over your lips and chin until his hand was now wrapped around your throat. Your breathing hitched and he gave a light squeeze, almost as if he is testing you to see how you would react. Your eyelids went slack and your mouth gaped. He took his opportunity and claimed you with a kiss. His tongue roamed your mouth as his hand once again tightened and relaxed around your throat. Strange and strangled moans arose from you but were caught in Yunho's mouth. His hips closed the space between your bodies and you could feel the knee-trembling size of his erection against your lower stomach. He deepened the kiss making you struggle in his grip, wanting to pull at his soft brown hair. His mouth hovers over yours and then he moves his head until his lips are directly next to your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you until you remember who’s girl you are.” He moves back a step, letting go of your wrists and pushes you gently on the bed.

“Yunho.. what the fuck. The guys are right out-...” You say meeting the burning look in his eyes. Interrupting you he says, “I don’t give a fuck (y/n). No one gets to touch what’s mine or have you forgotten?” Your eyes go wide and a pool of heat now settles in your lower stomach. “I think you’ve forgotten puppy, so I’m going to have to remind you…” He said while raking his eyes over you. He pointed to your shirt, “Off.” Consenting, you removed his shirt that you had decided to wear today, leaving you in the black bralette and leggings. He repeated the same command over until you lay naked beneath him. His gaze sears holes into your skin as his eyes roam over your body. He palms himself over his pants but he doesn’t take off his clothes yet. “You gonna join me?” You say raising a brow, propping yourself up on your elbows and spreading your legs wider for him to get a better look at your aching pussy. His eyes dart down to where you want but he smirks, making no movement towards you. Crossing his arms over his broad chest he manages to chuckle out a response “You are not incontrol here puppy.” You whine in response, closing your legs again. He quickly places both hands on either of your knees stopping you from taking away his view. He sinks to his knees and pulls yours further apart until you are completely bare to him. You try to push your hips towards him, but he glides his hands up to your hips to keep you from moving. As he holds you in place, he leans down to place a kiss right on the apex of your pussy, causing you to lay fully on your back and shiver at the brief contact. His hands move back down your legs and leans back on his knees to see just how undone you've become for him by a mere kiss. “Play with yourself for me puppy.” His words cause you to freeze. “W-what?” You say even though you fully understand what he told you. “I want to see you make yourself cum infront of me and maybe if you can follow orders then I will decide whether or not you deserve to be fucked.”

You felt your skin flush with both embarrassment and pleasure. “Do it now or else.” You made eye contact with him again. “Or else what yun?” He smirks at your challenge and speaks. “You either make yourself cum for me now or you don’t cum at all.” His grip on our legs tightens telling you to not disobey. You don’t take another second to think before your hand is sliding down your body and finds its home at the sensitive bundle of nerves. All the embarrassment of your position in front of Yunho disappears from your mind and is replaced by the increasing pace of pleasure radiating throughout your body. A moan-like sigh escapes your lips as you find the right rhythm pulling you closer towards the edge. Your hips gyrate against your hand in circles, mimicking the movement of your fingers. The sensation begins to climb leaving you moaning louder and making your breathing labored. “Good girl, now cum.” Those four words were all it took to climax. His grip is bruising but as you come down from your high Yunho kisses marks from where his hands are all the way to your inner thigh. “Y-yunho pleas-se.” You whimper as his mouth continues to move inches from your pussy. “What baby?” He says making eye contact with you as his mouth now hovers over your pussy. His long tongue slides through your wet folds causing you to moan out his name in a plea. “Should I reward you for following orders, puppy?” He repeats the action and it has you almost screaming yes. That's all the confirmation he needs before he dips his head, breaking eye contact, to eat your pussy. His assault on your already over sensitive region has your hands snaking through his hair and pulling at his brown locks. He moans into your pussy causing you to come even closer to your end. He lifts his mouth from your clit and he places two fingers at your entrance, teasing. “Don’t go quiet on me now puppy. Be a good girl and let everyone hear whose name you're moaning when you cum.” He pushes his fingers inside you, stretching you out and causing loud moans to escape your lips. “That's right. Good girl. Let them hear you.” He puts his mouth back on your clit and starts to suck while he pumps his fingers in and out of you creating a pace unmatched by anyone and he has you screaming your orgasm in a matter of seconds.

He stands as he lets you come down from your orgam and he begins to take off his clothes. You watch as he pulls his shirt off over his head making eye contact with you as he does. Never breaking the contact his hands move to the button of his pants. The fabric is stretched to its max as his dick strains against it’s clothed prison. He unbuttons and unzips until his dick is springing free and slapping against his stomach. The sight of him has you clenching your thighs together even though the friction makes you wince. Naked, he strides back towards you and takes his place between your legs. He leans forward to cup your jaw and pull your face slightly closer to his. “You are mine (y/n), and if I need to fuck you like the little slut you are to remind you I will.” His mouth roughly claims yours, closing the space between you. The weight of his body along with the feeling of his dick at your lower stomach once again sent waves of excitement coursing through your entire body, even your toes curled in anticipation of generous length stretching you out. He pulls his mouth off yours and looks you directly in the eye as he lines up his tip with your entrance. “You will take what I give you and be as loud as you can puppy.” With that he shoves the first inch into you. Your vision goes black for a second and your tight walls burn with his big dick stretching you out. Inch by inch he goes slow for you to adjust, but once his tip is bruising your cervix he pulls out and rams back into you. Screaming in pain and wincing he repeats the movement until the pain turns to indescribable pleasure.

Your nails dig into the skin on his back as you run your hands all the way up to his neck. He groans and begins to pick up his movements. “Such a good girl taking my big cock.” He whispers into your ear as his hips flick deep inside you hitting the spot that makes your moan out his name. “F-fuck Yun-nho” You say inbetween moans. He leans back on his knees grabbing you by the waist pounding deep inside of you now. One of your hands reaches up to cup your breast and the other comes to cup your mouth. Yunho stops his movements causing you to open your pleasure heavy eyelids as much as you can to look at him. He grabs the hand over your mouth and pulls it away. He pulls out of you and flips you over onto your shaky knees. Yunho takes both of your wrists, in one hand once again, and restrains them to the small of your back as he positions himself behind you. “I want everyone to hear you moaning for me, puppy. I don’t want anyone here thinking they can touch and make you feel even an ounce of what I do.” He pushes his dick inside of you once again and has you screaming out at the sudden fullness of your pussy. The new position has tears brimming your eyes and staining his comforter. He has access to go even deeper inside you and does. When he hits the spot that has you moaning the loudest, he focuses all of his momenvents to that spot. Your impending climax has you pleading to him once again as you clench around his thick cock. “Puppy want to cum all over my cock?” His own words labored and breathy as he continues to pound deep inside of you. “Y-yes” You choke out as stars begin to cloud your vision. He pulls you up by the neck so your back meets his chest, continuing his movement. “What do you say puppy?” The hand that was holding your wrists pinches both of your nipples causing you to scream out, now glides down your stomach to settle at your clit and rub slow circles. The contact makes you jump in his hold, but he holds you inplace. “Fu-uck Pl-leas-se Yun-nho” You stutter and his mouth bites, sucking at the base of your neck that connects with your shoulder.

All the sensations and pleasure he is supplying has you coming undone with a high pitched scream no doubt heard by everyone within a 5 mile radius. He pushes you back face down into the bed to chase his own orgasm. The overstimulation becomes too much for you and you begin to cry out. He finishes inside of you but quickly pulls out at the sound of your cries. “Fuck,” He says as he moves to the head of the bed and then pulls you up with him. “I’m sorry, puppy. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He lets you settle down and as the pain begins to ease he presses sweet gentle kisses all over your face and top of your head. Running his fingers up and down your back to help soothe you, he makes eye contact and smiles down at you. “You are mine to love puppy. Mine and only mine. Got it?” He leans down and his kiss is nothing like it was earlier. This time it was soft and wasn’t rushed. He let you open your mouth for him to deepen the kiss. His tongue slowly claiming your mouth like the rest of him had claimed you. Your pussy clenched in excitement and sent a wave of pleasure but mostly pain through your body. You winced pulling back from the kiss and was still smiling at you, laughing silently at the state he left you in. He pulls you up to his chest and you cuddle into the only man you want calling you his.

You don’t know how long you two were asleep or when you even had fallen asleep, but you were woken up by a loud pounding at the door. “YA! Yunho, we get it (y/n) is yours. Now can you please quit fucking so I can get my phone charger to call Emma and ask her to put me out of my misery . I’m sick of having to listen to you two.” We both burst out laughing and get covered up to let him in and Yunho leads the both to the bathroom to shower.

#ateez yunho #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #smut #yunho x reader #big dick yunho #yunho smut #jealous yunho

495 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

mistletoe magic | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,490

summary; stiles learns that his cute neighbour might be a witch after accidentally getting her spellbooks delivered to him instead.

notes; I know a witch!au isn’t a huge au for stiles, because he’s had evident races of magic throughout the series anyway, but just enjoy it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, use of magic

It had been a pretty regular Monday morning for Stiles.

At six sharp, he’d been up and awake, barely functional but stumbling through his apartment and clicking on the coffee machine, before hopping into the shower for a quick wash. When he’d emerged, the machine had just finished grinding, as always, his routine functioning like a well-oiled machine now, and he’d moved it all across into a to-go cup and left it on the counter before going to get dressed.

He’d stumbled around to find his school books and shove them into a bag, eaten two cinnamon pop tarts that had burned the tips of his fingers when he’d grabbed them straight from the toaster, and had still been chewing as he shoved his keys in his pocket and sipped at his coffee, straight into the elevator at twenty to seven.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across campus to his early morning lecture on a Monday, leaving him with a few minutes to spare, in case he saw the sweet older lady from two floors down and wanted to say ‘hi’, or the cute neighbour who lived across the hall that always made him fall over his own feet, or maybe even the kid who delivers newspapers and is always falling off of his bike. He made it on time, took some great notes, and was feeling a little more alive and welcome into his day.

At exactly ten past one, he’d been home, having gone to the library to get some study in and find his new books, and get lunch at the diner he always ate at after classes, a cheeseburger and curly fries, and grabbed his letters and a parcel from the mail slot with his housing number printed on, tucking the package under his arm and heading upstairs and back to his flat, ready to flick through his bills.

All according to plan. One year and four months away at university and he knew every day like he’d been doing it for a decade, so he was only half-way to the kitchen when he remembered the package he was clutching under his arm, coming to a complete halt, throwing the usual assortment of envelopes away to the counter, and producing the neatly wrapped bundle.

He didn’t question it, not even bothering to look at the front, figuring it was just an early delivery on the textbooks that he wasn’t expecting to get here for another three weeks, finger slipping under the folds of the brown paper and tearing it away, fingers dancing over the covers of the books, before his brows were furrowing once again.

These were definitely not his ‘intro to psychological profiling’ textbooks.

Beautiful swirls in gold, carved into dark leather across the front, Latin words he didn’t understand before he was opening the cover, brushing off a layer of dust and letting one brow arch up. The text inside was English - though, no modern - and paper that he was cautious to take care of, simply from what appeared to be the age of it, stained and worn, finger marks clear on the corner from being passed down through generations. It was handwritten, drawings in old ink that had leaked onto the paper a little, rough and coarse, and labelled doodles with names he had never heard of before.

At a glance, he would assume it to be some kind of witchcraft.

He felt on edge, suddenly. He’d left Beacon Hills to come to somewhere that no supernatural would follow, where things like werewolves were still a myth, something to be laughed at, and he swallowed thickly, looking around his apartment as though someone was going to jump out. He loved his friends, he really did, and he didn’t so much mind the supernatural when he was with them all because they protected him, but alone out here, he and his bat didn’t stand a chance.

Now, it was Christmas, he knew this from the poor excuse of a tree up in his living room, and the snow outside, and the fact that for the last six weeks, his usual mochas had been a gingerbread-spiced mocha, on the insistence of the barista who served him whenever he ventured into the little coffee shop joint, and he was growing find of it. So, he tried to be optimistic, in the spirit of festivities and all that, and texted the group chat, waiting to see if any of them had sent him the books as a present, maybe even his father or Melissa. He even texted Parrish.

Except, they all said no, and now, he was stumped. Then, as he was being extra nosey and flicking through the book, he came across a page marked with a small slip of card, the item falling out, and he cursed, having no idea which page it came from, but as he picked up the piece of paper, one of the questions in his puzzle finally gained another piece towards the jigsaw.

‘(Y/N), the spell you’re looking for is here, but be careful, it’s a strong one.’

So, the books are for his hot neighbour, the next number up from his, and it now made sense as to why he had these books - they were a mistake. It opened a new question, however, as to why you would be getting them.

He had absolutely no patience, barley remembering to flick the catch on his door so that he’d be able to get back inside, before he was striding across the hall in one, two steps, and knocking on the wood. He could hear you shuffling around inside, the soft and muffled notes of the classic rock music you’d been listening to getting turned right down to low. It only took you a further few seconds until you were opening the door, but it felt like years to him with his impatience, fingers tapping against the books agitatedly, biting the nail of the other thumb, and his foot was tapping against the floor.

When you opened the door, though, he felt like it was too soon, like he wasn’t prepared for what to say, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart leapt in his chest, eyes sweeping down along your body and widening at your bare legs, only a t-shirt hanging on your frame, rising up to reveal the edge of a pair of white lace panties as you opened the door, and he forced his eyes back up to yours, wincing as he bit down a little too harshly on his nail, and pulled it from his mouth, shaking it as his dropped to his side.

“Hey, neighbour.”

“H-Hi. Hello. Yes, hi.” He already wanted to die a little bit, he hadn't stuttered this much in front of a pretty girl since junior year in high school, even Lydia had lost this effect on him, and college really had been a growing experience for him. He’d had a fair few hook-ups, and experimented, and he wasn’t shy about flirting when he wanted to, but you always through hi right back through loops, like he was still that kid with a buzzcut.

“What can I do for you, four-A?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles.” He waited for the usual reaction, the cringe, the eyebrows shooting up, the scowl, something to indicate that you had actually heard the pronunciation, but you only smiled a little wider.

“I know. After I introduced myself and you fell over and didn’t give me your name, I checked the mail in your post-slot. I was curious. There was a lot addressed to Mieczysłav, but then one with a handwritten address to Stiles.” You shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, and crossing your arms, and while you might seem casual, at least his degree was coming in useful for something, as your body language read an entirely different reaction, insecurity and worry rolling off of you in invisible waves of tells.

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing slightly. “That sounds like something I would do.”

Silence fell between you both for a second, and he couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of your face, the way your lower lip was a little reddened, and he figured you must have been nibbling on it while working, and your hair was messy, an attempt to pin it back that seemed to have come loose and entirely ineffective, presumably from dancing, because you looked a little flushed. When you raised your brows at him a little, he realised you were waiting for him to explain himself, why he was on your doorstep, and he flushed with embarrassment shaking his head clear.

“I got your spellbooks by mistake.” He held them out, eyes widening even more, before his jaw was dropping open. “Book. Regular books. Not spell books, because that would imply magic, right? And, that’s dumb. Just regular books. I didn’t look at them, at all, not even a little bit, I promise.”

“You don’t believe in magic, then?” You took them from him, a coy smile on your lips, and you placed them down on the counter beside the door, pushing a bowl of potpourri getting pushed aside, along with your car keys and what looked like an incense burner.

“Do you?”

He was testing the water, seeing where your mind was at, and as a whistling came from your kitchen, you glanced back over to the kettle on the hob, and he thought this conversation might be about to come to an end. “Well, I think there’s always a little magic in life, even if people don’t notice it. You have to believe in magic to be able to see it. It’s like the supernatural that way.”

“And, you believe in the supernatural, huh?” He felt bad for the way he said it, because it was mocking, but he had to be sure that you weren’t messing with him, or spying on him, he had to try and find out who you were, but you only looked away as the whistling got louder, opening the door a little more and waving him inside as you walked away, and he stumbled after you and closed the door before his mind had even caught up with the movement of his feet.

Your apartment was littered with plants. The windowsills were lined with them, all brought green and blooming, even though he was sure it wasn’t the right season, and there was even a set of cactuses along a shelf near the corridor. There was a homey feel to your place, almost earthy, neutral tones and soft accents, a smell that was so calming he felt his own muscles begin to relax, and the music had changed from classic rock to some country song he was sure he’d heard in a movie somewhere but couldn't quite place it, and he followed you to the kitchen.

Rows of cookbooks and recipe folders stacked up on top of a lower cupboard, and he swallowed thickly, averting his gaze from the way your lace panties hugged your ass deliciously as you reached up for a mug, bringing back two, and pouring them both full of the herbal concoction you’d been making. On a mismatching saucer, you offered it to him, and he sniffed it carefully, but remembered his manners, mumbling a ‘thank you’, because his mother raised his right, even if he was a little suspicious of you.

“Relax, Stiles, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t be giving you tea made of Valerian and Lemon Balm. Do you want any honey, honey?” You grinned a little at your joke, but he shook his head, watching as you stirred a spoonful of the sticky sweetener into your own, and taking a tentative sip after blowing on the surface. It wasn’t all that bad, he had to admit, and he found his tensions slipping away a little. “It’s for relaxing, and helping with sleep.”

“It’s good.” You smiled, blowing lightly on your own, and he decided that he could busy himself by checking out your posters. An interesting arrangement, one was a band poster, the other was a chart with the phases of the moon, a third with diagrams of plants and little facts underneath, and the fourth, with symbols and drawing he didn’t quite understand. “So, you’re really embracing that whole witch thing, then?”

“Well, seeing as I am a witch, I would think it’s only appropriate.” He tried to hide his grin behind his mug, shaking his head a little, not believing that they really existed, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes, clearly, because there was a playful kind of offence flashing across your face. “You can’t tell me you think I’m insane, not when there’s so much of the supernatural all over you, Stiles.”

“The supernatural? Really?”

“So, you’re not the emissary to a pack of werewolves?” You challenged, his jaw dropping at the accuracy of it, and it was your turn to laugh at him. “It’s literally stitched into your aura, I sensed another supernatural the second you walked into the building.”

“I just associate with a lot of ‘em, but I’m not supernatural myself.”

“You sure about that?” He stilled, memories flashing behind his eyes of a time when he once was, and you seemed to pick up on the slightly sour mood he’d taken on, then again, he wasn’t really sure where your abilities lay, being that Scott or Derek would have simply sniffed it out on him. Your hand on his arm snapped him back to the moment, fingers squeezing lightly at his bicep. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There was a possibility, once, but it’s gone. There’s a dark chapter in my past, and the spark I was told I once had disappeared when I got through it.”

It went quiet again after that, your fingers slipping down from his arm to take his, and you placed your cup down, the steaming brew barely touched, but he followed suit, letting himself be pulled along as you directed him back to the living room. You were distracting him, it was an obvious ploy, but he was excited to learn, and he let the sadness of remembering his possession fade away as the thrill of new knowledge took over. “I can tell you have a lot of questions, so, what do you want to know first?”

He rubbed at his chin, settling down onto the couch at the edge of the room, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and you were busying yourself around him, a little water jug in your hand as you nurtured the abundance of houseplants you owned. “How did you know about my pack? And how much do you know about them?”

“It’s in your aura, I suppose. I can just pick up hints of different things when you’re around. The wolves are obvious, I’ve been around a lot of wolves. I also get death, and I've never met a banshee, but I assume that’s what it is. I knew you were the emissary because you’re the only magic in there, I would sense other traces on you, and there’s something else I can’t quite place.” Your face screwed up a little bit as you thought about it, nose wrinkling adorably before shrugging. “Like a werewolf, but not quite. I can’t get it.”

“She’s a werecoyote.”

You paused your pouring, turning to look at him, eyes flicking lightly around his being, before smiling slightly to yourself, and going back to your task. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Have you been a witch your whole life?”

“Since the day I was born, but I didn’t know or start practising until I was older. It just kinda’ happens, comes out of nowhere at a certain age, you start to realise you have abilities.” You had moved onto using a dropper to give little drips of water to cacti and succulents, standing on a small step stool as you did.

“Do you have to go to a school, like Harry Potter? Do you have a wand?”

You laughed at that, a genuine and hearty laugh, and you finished up your tasks, legs folding underneath yourself and you smirked a little at him as you sat down and got comfortable. “You wish, Stilinski. It’s not like that, it's more of an earthly connection than magic. It’s why my plants are so healthy. I can brew stuff, make little potions-” You motioned a hand over the jars lining the shelves on the walls, his eyes scanning over each one, picking out the neatly written titles across the fronts. “-I can cast very light spells, but it’s not the sort of thing where you can curse people, or teleport.”

“So, you can’t curse people to turn into frogs?”

“No, unfortunately not.” He was sure your giggle was the sweetest he’d ever heard, and he dared to twist himself around a little more, inching slightly closer to you across the couch. “I can do some stuff, like make your skin break out or give you a rash that won’t go away until I let it, and I can even give you headaches and such, but I don’t like to dabble in that sort of stuff. I much prefer protection charms.”

“Protection charms?” His heart skipped a little beat at the way your face lit up as you nodded, and he was intrigued, interest piqued. “I could use one of those, y’know, I’m incredibly clumsy and often get into supernatural trouble when I’m home. Hasn’t been so bad since I got here. Will you make me one?”

Your eyes left him, bottom lip nibbled between your teeth, and for a second he had worried he’d messed up, unsure on how witch spellcasting etiquette worked, but then you were moving across the room, opening up the cabinet on the other side of the room, and inside the doors and wooden frame hung what must be close to a thirty different decorative charms. Some were dreamcatchers or garlands hanging on the inside of the door, others were handcrafted little ornaments sitting on the shelves and filling them up, and your fingers were flittering over them all.

When you found what you were looking for, you lifted it out, a dream catcher that was bright and colourful and a little odd-looking, before bringing it back over to him, and presenting him with it cautiously. “You already made me one?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the cute guy from across the hall get any more injuries. I watched you fall over five times in your first week living here. You’re really clumsy.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, and yet he couldn't help the goofy grin that travelled across his features, not mentioning the fact that he noticed you sitting considerably closer to home when you took your seat once again. He was embarrassed for two reasons, the first being that you had noticed his innate penchant for ridiculous injuries, but more overwhelmingly, the second being that you still thought he was cute. College might have helped him bloom a little, but when he had a crush, he was still a bumbling mess, and he didn’t know quite how to respond.

He busied himself with taking in the details of the dreamcatcher. Somehow, despite this being the first real conversation that the two of you had ever had, passing and fleeting chats in the halls and elevator not counting, you had managed to capture his entire essence, he could already tell. The strings were made of wool, chunky and all different colours, a mix of yellows and blues, woven in together and tangled in strange patterns, but beautiful nonetheless, and the little accents were what made it complete.

A button that had fallen off of one of his flannels, he recognised the distinctive wooden piece, and it was woven into the design, along with a blue ribbon in the same colour of the jeep that was tied in a bow, and a wooden twig tangled in it. Dangling on more pieces of wool from the bottom was a keyring he was sure he’d lost after leaving it downstairs overnight, the Yoda on it looking cleaner than he remembered, and you must've cleaned it. There was also a black feather, and a sprig of some kind of dried herb that he didn't recognise, but enjoyed the smell anyway.

It was intricate and personal, and he felt chuffed just to know that you’d made one for him, a little security and peace washing over him to know that someone was out here looking after him, completely unmaliciously, simply because you wanted to.

“This is incredible.” You let out a breath of relief, he recognised it in the way your body slumped a little, and he placed it down carefully on the coffee table beside you both, reaching out to take your hand in his, and daring to lace your fingers together and squeeze in gratitude, and you held onto him yourself, gaze dropping down to your connected hands. In a bold move of your own, you lifted your other hand, holding onto his with both of yours, and his thumb lifted out to brush lightly over your skin. “You’re the reason I don’t get papercuts and splinters anymore.”

“And you are very welcome for that.” You teased him back, and an easy kind of harmony fell between you both, your presence being more comfortable simply having only just really begun to meet you than he ever had been with someone new. It was strange, to feel so relaxed and at home with you, the way you put his fears at ease and soothed every worry without even trying, making him feel welcome and accepted, like he’d known you for years, not just shy of an hour. “Will you tell me about your pack?”

“You really want to know?” He couldn’t mask his surprise, and you nodded, excitement gleaming in your eyes, and he felt a surge of pride swell up in his system at the idea of getting to boast about his friends completely honestly for the first time in his life. There was no threat, he wasn’t showing off their skills as a way to try and ward off a threat or intimidate someone, but he simply wanted everyone else to be as awed by them as he was, and he didn’t have to hide any supernatural secrets from you. “Shall I start at the beginning?”

“Is it a long story?”

“Very long.” He confirmed, a shy laugh leaving you, before you were shifting again.

“How about I go and make us some fresh tea, then?” You were on your feet, wandering away to the kitchen as soon as he’d offered his affirmations of the idea, and he decided to follow after you, already beginning to blather about Peter Hale.

Hours seemed to pass by, as he spoke to you, two more pots of tea being made, and you’d broken out your snack-store for him, before the two of you had ordered pizza. He’d made himself at home, too, keys and phone sitting abandoned on the table, shoes kicked off on the floor, and feet stretched out along the couch. You were sitting at the opposite end, your legs stretched out in his direction, and one of his hands was sitting on your ankle, fingers drawing patterns on the soft skin there absentmindedly as his other hand was used to gesture wildly around himself.

He told you it all, confessing right from the beginning as he encountered Derek Hale, who liked to lurk in the woods, which had made you crack up as he told you about how the man was basically now the alpha, even if Scott was officially the alpha, and he’d told you about Jackson’s kanima phase, which had made you crack up even more as you claimed he deserved it.

You’d been shocked by his homicidal English teacher, and comforted him when he spilled his heart to you over the nogitsune incident he hated to think about, accepting your hush happily, and revelling in the smell of your hair when you’d pressed in close to him, before retreating to your seat.

He told you all about the benefactor and the dread doctors, and about Allison’s death, which he still blamed himself for when he was on a low day, and you’d used your thumb to clear away the tear that had fallen from his cheek, leaving him blushing and breathless for a second when you’d pressed a light kiss to his cheekbone just after.

You had scooted closer to him and stayed there near the end of his tales, tucked under his arm, playing with his fingers over your shoulders as he rambled about how alone he’d felt while taken by the Wild Hunt, thoughts that he’d always kept locked up in his own mind, never having shared with another person before.

“You really got the short end of the ‘supernatural encounters’ stick then, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the understatement of the century.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, your feet nudging together on the coffee table, the reindeer themed fluffy socks on your feet playing with the patchy and worn door knitted socks he’d had for years, worn to keep warm during the winter, even though your apartment was nice and toasty, the heaters running and the radiators on, and it was much cosier than his place had ever been.

The Christmas lights on a timer had come on, flickering around the place once the light had started fading, hours flashing by in the blink of an eye, a hazy glow cast over the apartment and creating a whole new range of shadows. “Do you want me to make charms for your friends?”

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to discern whether you were serious, and when he caught no gesture of ill-will, or hesitation, or hidden-motives, he smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Seems like you all need it.”

He shrugged a little, smiling when you rested your forehead against his, fingers playing together still, but feet stilling in their game of footsie. “I can’t believe I waited this long to get to know you. You’re, like, the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't’ help it, noses bumping together as you both simply drowned in the moment, in what the moment was leading up to, where you both knew this was going but were revelling in the simple but exhilarating tension that was crackling with electricity in the millimetres of space between your lips and his. You were so close to him that he could feel it more than hear it when you whispered some words he didn’t quite understand, your breath fanning over his face in a dreamy sigh, and it took his hazed brain a second to catch up, before he was pulling back just enough to catch your eyes, one hand coming up to rest over your cheek as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, my God. Did you just cast a spell?”

“Look up.” He was hesitant to pull back much further, but did so anyway, and he chuckled slightly as he spotted the little green plant beginning to sprout from the ceiling. Vines were still strengthening along the beam, and the leaves were beginning to form right before his eyes, white berries hanging between the green stems, and Stiles shook his head, in complete awe as he looked at it.

You were staring up to, eyes focused on the plant as it bloomed and he assumed you were concentrating on its development, but he couldn't hold back anymore, two hands on your cheeks, pulling your face back to his, and your lips barely parted to speak before his mouth was colliding with your own. A squeak left you, and he wanted to grin at being able illicit such a sound from you, but the temptation to kiss was just enough for him to contain himself. When your mind finally caught up, you were kissing him back just as eagerly, a soft sigh leaving you. “You are fucking adorable.”

The words were whispered into your mouth, he felt you shake with a soft laugh under his hold, before you were holding onto him just as tightly in return. One of your hands wrapped around his wrists, the other sliding over his bicep to his shoulder, before slipping down underneath, and smoothing over the front of his chest. He puffed out a little under your touch, pulling away for a quick breath, groaning slightly at the way your nails dug into his skin as he did, and then, he was diving right back into you.

Your hand slipped down to rest over his heart, the organ thudding under your hand, and he felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest, but as he pressed a little further into you, a shock like an electrocution was racing right through his body, a kind of jolt that was thoroughly exhilarating, and he pulled away, eyes wide as he stared at you.

You looked just as shocked as he expected he did too, his hands dropped down as he watched sparks and electricity crackle between your fingers and his, your brows raising at him. “Thought you said you had no magic left after.. y’know..”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, your fingers weaving with his, a loud snapping sounding as a particularly bright flare went off, and he flinched a little, jaw dropping and a whine slipping from him as you contained it all the sight disappeared before his eyes. “So, there really are sparks flying between us, huh?”

He regretted the words the moment he’d said them, expecting to see on your face the same kind he’d always gotten from Malia or Lydia when he made those kinds of cheesy puns that only he enjoyed, even Scott daring to fix him with a bored or blank look, and Derek would simply glare, but much to his surprise, you laughed. It was fond, with a roll of your eyes and a huff to preempt it, but you laughed nonetheless, and he felt himself somehow manage to brighten even further. “That was cheesy.”

“I know.” He beamed, shifting a little, hands sinking down to your hips to pull you closer to himself as he settled back into the couch, and your hand pressed to the cushions beside his head, the other one coming up to weave into his hair lightly.

“I loved it. I am quite a fan of puns.”

“That’s good, because I usually have a lot of them.” He leaned up, daring himself to be bold enough to close that gap once again, and he could feel your lashes tickling his cheeks as you nuzzled into him a little more. “If I kiss you again, will those sparks happen this time, too?”

“If I stop controlling it, they will.”

“Stop controlling it, sweetheart.” He felt you move to nod your affirmations, but dipped his head in time, proud of his own reflexes as he caught your lips, feeling the hand in his hair tighten, and he was so glad he’d decided to grow it out all those years ago, because right now, he was losing all sense of himself in the way your nails would scratch across his scalp, or the delicious burning that flared over his skin for a split second when you pulled on his hair, before you were rubbing it softly, fingers working in tandem timing with your lips, teasing over his own.

That same feeling took up, a sparking that felt like fireworks, like energy surging through him, escaping at his fingertips in every place that he touched you, one palm smoothing along your back to somewhere that was definitely too lose to be respectable, as the other held onto your cheek still. You were taking control, your tongue darting out to trace over his lower lip, bribing him to part them but he needed no convincing, letting your tongue meet his own only a second after you’d made the request, equally breathy and needy noises escaping you both at the slow and wet drag of the muscles over one another.

His lungs were burning, lips beginning to sting as his assault on your mouth continued, his neck straining to hold this angle, and yet the more you kissed him, the more that the hazy feeling of getting to be with you like this raced through his body was the more he became addicted to needing more, chasing a high that he didn’t even know he wanted until now, like an addict finding his next hit.

You seemed to pick up on it all, as though you’d read all of his thoughts, because the second he’d had the lingering thoughts, you were settling yourself across his lap, a leg on either side of his own as you seated yourself down, and he couldn't help the way his hips bucked up a little to meet you, or the way his hand slid down fully to rest on your ass.

After all, as much as he’d gone through the make him grow up emotionally, physically he was still a horny-teen college boy, and you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, sitting half-naked in his lap and sucking on his lower lap while doing something with your tongue that was making him feel like he couldn't even breathe properly for how aroused he was.

Maybe you could feel the growing erection underneath of you, maybe you couldn't, but he’d stopped caring about being embarrassed around you about three hours ago when he’d had to tell you all about the time he’d once dropped a condom in Coach’s class in front of the entire classroom, and you’d laughed so much your face had gone red and you’d hidden it form him by pressing into his shoulder.

You were something he felt like he was dreaming up, like any moment now he’d wake up in a small puddle of his own drool with his face pressed into the desk of his lecture hall, the lights turned out and another note left by his kind professor to get more sleep at home, and to lock up when he left, before you were giggling a little at him, pulling away and stealing a few more pecks as you did, and he wondered if you really could read his mind, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Are you reading my mind or something?”

He felt stupid even as he mumbled te words, especially when it only seemed to heighten your entertainment, but you shook your head. “I can’t read your mind, I can just kinda’ sense your mood, I guess. It’s the connection, you were clearly thinking something funny, and I don’t know what it was, but I got a sudden rush of amusement.”

“That’s pretty fucking incredible.” He whispered, letting you peck his mouth a few more times, simply sitting there with puckered lips as he tried not to smile too much, before he was tucking hair away behind your ears and finally you were opening your eyes, and at this point, he really should learn to stop being surprised by new developments with you. “Holy shit, your eyes are glowing!”

“So are yours.” You winked, the bright purple being a shade that was so captivating and beautiful on you that he couldn’t look away, even when you leaned away from him to grab his phone, raising it up to snap a picture for him, and forcing his gaze down to it. Much like you’d said, his eyes were beginning to hint in with a faint purple, the neon shading beginning to drip into his irises and take over from the usual golden-brown that resided there. “You never made out with another witch before?”

He pinched at your ass for your cheeky comment, taking his phone and throwing it away to the side, grinning when you yelped at his painless attack. “I didn’t even know witches really existed before today. Besides, what makes you think I'm one? I had a spark once, but as I said, that died out. Nothing truly magical.”

“I don’t know, you’re having a pretty strong connection with me right now, aren’t you?” Your arms looped around his neck, snuggling in a little closer to him, and he bit back a groan as you shuffled in his lap. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, you just don’t know how to tap into your magic, you have to believe in it to see it.”

“You really think so?”

He was vulnerable and he knew it showed, he’d gone his entire life being unsure as to where all his energy and twitching came from, as to why he’d always felt a draw to the earth; the preserve and the woods, and justice and balance, and why he’d somehow fit into a supernatural world with far more elegance and ease than he ever had the normal one, and maybe this was the explanation. “I really do, Stiles.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I would love to.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then to the spot below your ear, before flicking his tongue out a little to drag over the sensitive patch that lay there, before moving down your neck. He didn’t want to mark you without your consent, he wasn’t sure what was going to come of all of this and where it would go, but he was more than happy to lick and bite lightly at your skin, finding the sweet spot that made your hips roll down into his own and a sound of need and desperation to leave you that was like music to his ears, before his hips were bucking up to meet you once again.

“Y’know when you said that you could feel what I was feeling?”

“Uh-huh?” You were distracted, your reply seeming somewhat faded and distant, and he chuckled lightly, before making his way back up to your mouth now that you’d both had a chance to catch your breaths once again.

“Does that mean everything?”

“Are you asking if I know just how much you want to fuck me right now? Because yes, I do know.” He choked a little on his breath, your hand in his hair pulling his head back so that you could meet his gaze, your lower lip held between you teeth, flesh going a darker pink, and he longed to be the one biting that lip for you. “Trust me, the sentiment is returned.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.” He wasn’t used to women being so confident with wanting him, being so unashamed of it, or of even wanting him at all. Most of his hook-ups had been slightly drunk make-outs and sloppy grinding, or booty calls and meetings in closets at parties. He got more action than he ever did in high school, he’d finally grown into his limbs and his looks, but that didn’t take away the surprise that still happened every time someone as pretty as you even offered him the time of day.

“Like, right here? Right now?”

“Been thinking about how much I want to ride you on my couch for like an hour and a half, now.” Stiles couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, lips parting as you ran a finger over his swollen lips, a cheeky glint flashing over purple eyes as you looked at him.

“You might just be perfect for me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A toothy smile was offered to you, before he was pulling you back in towards him, hands slipping down to lay resting on your thighs as soon as your lips had found his once again. The heat seemed to have passed, and while the kiss was still completely intoxicating, there was something a little more tender about it, too. It wasn’t nearly as rushed and frantic, the sloppy kisses you’d shared as you learned one another’s ticks had passed, and as your lips worked slowly with his own, Stiles found that he much preferred this kind of kiss.

This was the kind of kiss that he could picture himself sharing with you in many settings. A sleepy, early morning kiss, when you were still between the land of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. Or, late nights, when he’d fall asleep while studying, and he would let you drag him to his feet and to bed. Or, simply when he would finish a lecture, or get you coffee, or meet you for dinner. The point was, Stiles already knew he wanted to kiss you at all times of the day, and to hold onto you, and to watch you brew little spells at the stove while holding onto you from behind.

Your lips were wet when you pulled away, eyes sparkling as you looked at him, a bright shade of royal purple, like silk and rich violet on flower petals, and you looked utterly ethereal. “Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?”

“You’re sweet-talking me.” You teased, bumping the tip of your nose against his, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m not, I’m just being honest with you. I’ve been into you for a long time, even if I didn’t quite have my mind in the right place to actually say it.” You huffed out a little laugh, your eyes averting from his own so that you could try and hide your bashful little expression, but he didn’t miss it.

“Well, I’ve been admiring you a little, too. I should’ve had my deliveries sent to you sooner, if I knew it was going to end like this.” As if to punctuate your words, you rolled your hips down into his, reminding him of the solid erection pressing into his jeans, his fingers digging a little firmer into your skin, and he pushed your shirt up higher, the soft cotton of your panties revealed to him.

“These are just fucking sinful. Do you normally wander around your house in underwear and band-tees?” He tugged at it a little, before daring to tuck his hand underneath the fabric, trailing up, and a poorly-concealed groan left him as he found no further obstructions, fingers closing over one of your breasts, squeezing lightly as he palmed at your chest. “Well, clearly not all of your underwear.”

“I tend to, I keep it warm in here, for all the plants.” Your back arched up into his hand, one of your own closing over his outside of your shirt, as your other held onto his shoulder, fingers leaving crescent-moon shaped marks he was sure, and the rocking of your hips into his own only seemed to increase.

“I’d love to see you in one of my flannels sometime, just like this.”

“Give me your shirt and you’ll see it sooner than you think.” You teased, his brows raising, before he was pulling his hands back just long enough to lean into you, stripping the garment off as best as he could, leaving him in a thin black t-shirt as you took the item from him. He wanted to whine out as you stood up, choosing instead to replace the pressure of your core over his with his hand instead, palming at his cock through the thick denim, and you grinned as you watched him, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

You stood before him, draping his shirt across his spread knees as he slumped further into the cushions, getting himself comfortable and popping the button on his jeans, swollen lower lip being nibbled as you played with the hem of your shirt. Your hips were swinging to the beat of the song, and then, you raised the garment up and over your head, letting it drop away to the carpet, his jaw dropping as he looked at you.

You picked up his flannel, pulling it up your arms, and leaving it open at the front, just barely covering your tits. You were an angel and also the devil, tempting him to do so many wrong things. Stretching his hands out toward you, he beckoned you back into his lap, an act you were more than happy to take as you bounded over to him, a pep on your few short steps, before you were settling back into his lap.

“Perfect.”

He let his hands find the flaps of the flannel, pulling it open wide enough to be able to admire your tits fully, letting you push your hair back away from your shoulders for his unobstructed view. Sealing one hand around your waist, he dragged you up closer, until you were almost pressed to him fully, before dipping his head down. His tongue dragged over a hardened nipple, taking the taut peak into his mouth and sucking harshly, as your hand wound into his hair. You tugged, roughly, a groan that vibrated along your entire body leaving him and making you shiver, and you made the prettiest little noises above him.

He switches sides, making sure to give the other half of your chest that same kind of attention, leaving wet marks and stinging watches along your skin that would become bright purple marks in the morning to match the colour of your eyes, and he just hoped you kept him around long enough to see them when they did become beautiful and prominent. He wanted to see his good work, he wanted to see the way he got to mark you up and leave his touch all over your body.

“Stiles..”

“I do love how you sound moaning my name, princess, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last when you're making noises like that and grinding yourself all over my cock like this.” You grinned, letting him kiss his way back up your chest and throat until he was taking your lips with his own. Your hands were moving down, tugging at his zipper as far as it would go, hid hips bucking up into his hand as he felt you drag a nail along his covered erection, breathy sounds between you both when you pulled away.

He only had to lift himself up for a moment, before you were tugging at his jeans, helping him to get them just far enough down his thighs for his boxers to be able to follow. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard and desperate for you, leaking precum along his skin, and he gave himself some form of relief. You were watching him, eyes wide as he pumped his length in one hand, the other dipping under your skirt rubbing over your core, and you bundled up your shirt for him.

“Y’know, all those times I thought about us, a quick fuck on your couch wasn’t how I had wanted our first time to be, but then again, I didn’t expect the cute chick across the hall to be a witch, wither, so..”

He used his thumb to drag your panties to the side, your sodden folds revealed to him, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. “I’ll let you take it slow next time, I swear, but right now, I’d really like it if you’d fuck me.”

He could only nod, heart skipping a beat at the promise of another time. Your legs shifted, muscles clenching as he forced himself to take his touch away from your core and bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your sweet essence from the thin digits. As you leaned over him, he was sure to line himself up, and then, you were sinking down onto him, your forehead flailing to his as your mouth fell open, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered the words, a little breathless and hanging on the edge of his orgasm already, and you seemed just as close, because as you finally sank all the way down and settled into his lap again, he could feel every pulse within your walls as you hugged around him.

It took him a moment, staving off his climax so that he didn’t come just from getting to feel you like this, and you looped your arms around his neck gently to find your purchase. Your nails were scratching lightly at the hairs at the base of his neck, his flannel once again flapping around you, panties pushed to the side to let him have access to your centre, and it was deliciously filthy.

Once you were settled, you circled your hips, a test movement, pleasure spiking in both of your systems and it felt like the temperature in the room was shooting upwards. Stiles could already feel sweat beginning to bead along his skin in a thin layer, and you pressed yourself in closer to him. Each time you shifted your hips you were moving a little more, every rock of your body into his, you were pulling yourself up just a little higher to be able to drop yourself back down onto his cock, stretching and squeezing around him.

You felt like velvet, slick and warm as you sheathed around him. You were precise and deliberate, and he couldn't help the wonton sounds that were leaving you with every drop down onto his cock, before you were taking him up to see stars every time, leaving the both of you resting in the clouds. Panted breaths, a scream in the back of your throat that tried to break out each time as you gave him broken moans of his name, picking up your pace further and further each time.

Once you were stable above him, you were moving with purpose, fast and quick as you rode him, gaining more confidence each time, and he was gripping you so tightly that there would be fingerprints all over your hips in the morning. He helped you go, lifting you up each time, only to pull you back down into his lap, thrusting up with a weak effort to meet you, but feeling you go wild each time. That same energy was back, crackling with more force, surging through him like nothing he had ever felt.

Stiles was in college, he was away from home and the weight of being the Sheriff’s kid for the first time, and he had experimented. He’d gotten drunk, and high, and hungover, but this was a whole new kind of thrill; it was like lighting up with fireworks and adrenaline all at once, like creating a bond with another person, and a tingling spread throughout his entire body as your magic bonded with his own. He hadn't felt this kind of singing in his blood since the day he’d managed to finish the circle with the mountain ash back when he was only sixteen, or breaking through the wild hunt barrier at almost eighteen.

These kind of thrills were rare for him, but they’d never been this strong, and as the two of you moved as one in the most intimate way that two people could, your mouth coming up to claim his as you silenced yourself and him, growing louder and more desperate as you went, he felt that final high beginning to build.

“‘M so close, honey.” His voice had taken on that same kind of scratchy rasp that he had in the mornings before he even broke into his day, “Oh, God, keep goin’.”

He knew his words were beginning to grow slurred, and he could barely buck his hips up into you. As everything within his body began to light up, he felt like all of his muscles were going lifeless, his body going boneless, because the heat was consuming him. He couldn't hold it back, he’d been waiting for so long to feel you this way, and his lips could barely even move back against your own as he went slack-jawed, exploding within your tight heat.

The send that he was shooting over the edge, you were following right after him, crying out his name into his mouth as you kept going against him, until you couldn't clumping down into his body as you trembled, and Stiles felt as though you’d milked absolutely everything from him that he had to offer. There was a crackling along his skin from everywhere that your fingertips smoothed over, sliding down from his shoulders so that you could press your cheek to the spot instead, fanning breaths rushing over his neck as you tried to catch your breath, racing heart just like his was.

You didn’t even bother to move from him, letting him throb within your walls with each flutter you made and each shift, and if you kept it up, he was sure he’d be ready for a second round, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he had that in him. Resting his head back against the edge of the couch, he let you lift yourself up and off of him finally, your legs shaking as you stood, offering him a weak smile as he took in your through fucked out state, before taking wobbly steps away from him, and disappearing down the hall.

He heard a door close, assuming you’d gone to the bathroom, and he leaned over to the coffee table to snatch up a few tissues, to clean himself up with, before sorting himself out too. He did the bare minimum, not even bothering to do up his jeans once he had them pulled back up, but he stretched out along the length of the couch to lay down, an arm popped under his head, and a little laugh on his lips as he did.

He took a moment to glance around, not missing the way that the plants all seemed to be blooming particularly beautifully, seeming more alive than ever. As he lifted up a hand before his face, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, a spark travelled between the tips, and he felt a little in awe just at the sight of it.

“It's pretty incredible, right?”

He startled, jumping a little, before turning to look at you and propping himself up on his elbows as you lingered in the doorway. You had changed, your hair pulled back and out of your face, missing a few odd strands and you’d buttoned up his flannel along your body, mismatched and hanging unevenly, but still adorable. You took slower steps over to him, waiting for a second as you stood beside him, before he was lifting his arms and making it clear to you that you could lay with him, a smile gracing both of your faces as you flattened yourself along him, cheek pressed over his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You like feeling your magic, then?”

He lifted his palm, holding it to yours and admiring the final dying flares he saw, as the energy began to dissipate and absorb into his body and yours fully. “I’m not used to feeling special myself. I’ve always been a behind the scenes, research, kinda’ guy. I’m not used to being one of the main players.”

“Oh, hush. You told me your story, you were most definitely a key player, Stiles.” He shrugged under you, letting you cross your arms over his chest and prop your chin on them.

“Yeah, but I never really felt that way, and now I feel like I have something to offer.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his jaw with a sweet kiss, and he felt like he could most definitely get used to this feeling. Can I meet them?”

“My pack?”

You nodded, seeming a little shy now, and joy raced through him at the fact that you saw enough of a future with him to want to meet his friends an get to know them, and to once again be able to be completely open and honest with everyone, never having to hide anything from anyone, and being able to let you fully and wholly into his life. It was a surprise, because the more he’d thought about his future late at night when lying alone in his bed, he was so sure he’d never be able to really settle down, because he could never let someone in on his life in every single way, but with you, that wasn’t a problem.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Really?” You were studying him carefully, trying to ensure that he was telling the truth, and he gave you the most honey look that he possibly could, before lifting his head to meet your lips as he leaned in.

Soft and delicate, like a kiss that was shared between deep romance and longtime lovers, and he rested a hand on your cheek, holding you to him, and rolling you to the side, to sandwich you between the couch and his body Your thigh came up to rest over his legs, his palm slipping from your face to rest on your leg, drawing patterns on the skin until you pulled away to breathe, lips detaching from his as you whined a little. You stayed close, though, a soft look etched onto your features;

“I just want to meet a few more supernatural people, and get to know others who I don’t have to hide from.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to hide from them, and you’ll love them, just as much as they’ll love you. We’re a pretty odd group, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right about that ‘odd bunch’ thing. I’ve never met a banshee, or a - what did you call it? - werecoyote.” That was an undeniable truth, your head coming back down to rest on his chest as he shrugged, unable to deny that you were right. “Your wolves sound nice, too. All the other wolves I’ve met have been overly territorial and closed off.”

“Well, Derek used to be like that, but we’ve pulled him around a little. He is still broody, though.” You laughed at his joke, a sound that made his heart burst open slightly and bleed with affection, all for you, as you continued to take more and more pieces of his heart with every act, and he was falling in love with you faster than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t take notice of any of his lurking, by the way, it’s his twisted way of showing concern and care.”

“I’ll remember that, and if I ever catch him hiding behind a tree, I’ll know that it’s real friendship.”

“He does that, I’m serious, don’t underestimate him. I think my dad arrested him for stalking, once.”

“I think your dad would be who I am most scared to meet.” A fond tone in your voice, before he was pressing a kiss to your forehead, humming under his breath.

“He’ll love you the most, don’t worry.”

Silence fell between you both then, and he busied himself with tracing illegible drawings into your skin, simply enjoying feeling so close to you. It was irrationally domestic, and you were the final piece in his college life and college experience that was missing. Despite not being a wolf, he was unequivocally part of a wolf pack, and being surrounded so closely by such a tight-knit group of friends for those years had made him dependent on company and reliability, and he had been feeling so alone since leaving for college.

Scott had Malia, Lydia had rekindled things with Jordan, and even Derek had been (begrudgingly, to begin) hooked up with a deputy by his father, and they’d been on a few dates.

The last time he’d been home, he’d felt like a fifth, seventh, or was it ninth wheel, when Liam and Hayden were taken into account? He had been feeling awfully lonely lately, and he was glad to finally find someone that fit him perfectly, matching him like a glove.

“When I do introduce you to my friends, my pack, y’know, and my dad..”

You lifted your head, a little crease across your cheek from the fold in his shirt, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb gently, an attempt to remove the mark. “Yeah?”

“What should I introduce you as?”

“A witch.” You deadpanned, and he knew immediately that you’d clearly know exactly what he meant, but were playing with him, and he pouted, fixing you with a mock glare, before you were laughing to yourself over your joke, something so undeniably cute that he couldn't even pretend to be mad about it. “What do you want to introduce me as?”

Nudging your jaw a little with his, he puckered his lips, tempting you down to kiss him, and you were more than happy to press a series of sweet and short kisses to his lips. “I’d really like to formally claim you to be my girlfriend?”

He mumbled the words into your mouth, feeling your lips flick up at the edges in a smile as you gave him a kiss that was a little more firm, a little more loving and powerful, before whispering your reply; “Then we’re on the same page, because I’d like to introduce you to my coven back home as my boyfriend.”

“You have a coven?” He pulled back, a gasp of shock, and you giggled at him.

“That I do. Maybe I should tell you about them?”

“You absolutely should.” He insisted, his craving for knowledge taking over, and he couldn't have been more glad to whatever deity was watching over benevolently that he’d taken the choice to stay the first time knowledge had been offered, because it had led him to where he was now.

“It might take all night, maybe you should go and get a change of clothes. Get comfortable.”

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” You only nodded, letting him roll you back over onto your back as he kissed at your neck. “I’ll buy you take out if you cuddle me later?”

“Cuddling and dinner? Glad I get to call you my boyfriend, now.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am to call you my girlfriend. My little witch.” His lips sealed over yours, silencing your laughs against his mouth as you teased him for the nickname, and he pinched a little at your sides. The mistletoe overhead grew a little more, a few of the berries dropping away and bouncing off of his back as the plant became bolder, just like the rest, that energy beginning to grow once again, as you got lost in each other’s touch.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles stilinski/reader #stiles stilinski/reader smut #stiles stilinski teen wolf #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien teen wolf #dylan obrien stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien

2K notes · View notes

samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

You Can Hear It In The Silence

Summary: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Reader (SMUT) MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut Minors DNI (It’s smut, nothing kinky but very romantic and soft) oral (both receiving), kissing, lovebites and tame scratching, penetrative sex, unprotected sex in a committed relationship(like last time, let me know if I missed anything)

Author’s Note: Minors please DNI, I have a lot of other fluff pieces that are totally acceptable for you guys to read. I hope that this isn’t too schmaltzy because that just gives me agita. This is based off You are In Love by Taylor Swift and maybe a little bit of Dress

You Can Hear It In The Silence

It’s a blurry line, going from best friends to dating. There’s nothing like playing that dangerous game of stolen glances and surreptitious touches in a dark room. Eyes ranking over figures decked out in soft cardigans and tweed blazers or black dress pants and silk blouses, desperately wanting to see more, touch more, taste more. The senses could only sated for so long before the desire for more bubbles to the surface.

Across the table, Spencer watches as Y/N sips the red wine JJ brought over. It’s hard to not watch her; to not completely hone in on the way her eyes are light with laughter, or the way her hair cascades down her shoulder, blending into the dark green color of her dress. Spencer kills himself trying to not look at her because he knows if he does, he’s done. Or rather, he knows that if he lets himself love her openly, he’ll only end up hurting themselves. So, he sits there, in Derek’s backyard trying to pretend that he’s not staring at Y/N. The only thought that comforts him is holding on to the idea that Y/N is doing the same thing. He supposes that’s what happens to relationships that blossom from the shadows of secrecy. In their attempts to not hurt others, they end up almost destroying themselves.

He decides to pretend to find Garica’s cuckoo clock fascinating. He stares at the wacky colored birds and swinging arms entirely too long. In the corner of his eye Spencer watches the next couple of moments unfold. JJ and Garcia drunkenly bounce over to Y/N; they put their arms around her in a fit of giggles and smiles. Garcia’s arm extends around JJ’s neck and she lets out a loud announcement for a “Selfie” or rather what Spencer can only assume is a photograph of the three of them. The phone, even though Spencer does have some disdain for the invention, sure does serve its purpose. In all the light rays bouncing around and the blinding flash, pure magic happens. Spencer is aware that it makes him sound like a total sap, but he’s jealous of the phone. He’s jealous that his eidetic memory may only allow him to remember the Y/N’s notes in the margins of her case file or the annual “Happy Birthday, Genius” on a Hallmark card once a year. What he would give to just be able to capture her in the light of company, not hanging on to fleeting memories in the shadows.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer does not notice an unusually drunk Unit Chief wandering over to the empty chair next to him. All of his awkwardness, Spencer is not sure if he should acknowledge his drunken boss or stop staring at his secret girlfriend. It’s at time like these that Spencer resorts to reciting Crime and Punishment or 100 Years of Solitude either seem ironically appropriate.

“Reid,” Hotch says, leans in close, far too close for the usual uptight and business-like Aaron Hotchner that Spencer has grown to know.

“Hotch?” Spencer answers, his voice laced with trepidation and anxiety.

“You gotta stop staring at Y/L/N. You’re gonna rat on yourselves if you don’t stop staring at her like that,” Hotch tells him, his breath might smell like whiskey, but his eyes tell Spencer that he’s a lot more sober than he seems.

“Like what?” Spencer counters, choosing to play dumb at best as he could, or at least just slightly clueless.

“That doesn’t work on me, Reid. You should stop looking at her like you love her,”

Spencer looks at his boss, at Y/N, and back at his drink. Was he seriously that transparent?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hotch. Y/N and I are-”

“Spence! Spencer!,” Y/N shouts as she practically runs over to where Spencer sits with Hotch, watching the rest of the team.

It’s like Hotch isn’t even there anymore, it’s like no one is even there. God, it might sound sappy, but Spencer doesn’t care anymore. It’s going to kill him playing it like he doesn’t care about Y/N, especially considering he’s doing a mediocre job.

“I have a really bad headache, Spence. And I need you to take me home,” Y/N asks him, and Spencer notices an eager glint in her eyes that tells him all he needs to know.

“Keep this between us please, Hotch? Just until we figure it out,” Spencer almost pleads to Hotch who answers with a dismissive wave. He leaves them there to figure out their plans to sneak out of Garcia’s undetected.

“Hotch knows? Of course you know,” Y/N says with a roll of her eyes and a quick wink at Spencer, whose growing embarrassment from the situation is only second to his excitement at the night to come.

“Spence, go say goodbye for me? I’m going to head to your car. You really gotta sell that I’m feeling sick,” Y/N tells him, standing a little too close and dipping her hand a little too low on Spencer’s waist for this to be a friendly gesture to any of their friends that might pass by. She takes a peak around the room and reaches her hand into Spencer’s pocket. He gives her a startled glance, but they both know that the thrill of sneaking around like this is kind of worth it.

As Y/N ducks out of the room, Spencer makes his way to where Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek sit at the kitchen table taking shots of a clear liquid Spencer thinks is tequila. Great, Spencer thinks. Him and his secret girlfriend, who as far as the team knows is his best friend, have to sneak out of Garica’s place in front of a pile of loud drunks. Spencer feels his phone buzz, altering him that there is a very impatient Y/N waiting in the car for him

“Uh, Garcia, Y/N’s got a really bad headache. I think it’s an onset of one of her migraines that she gets from red wine,” Spencer lies through his teeth, completely terrified from the way Emily glares at him. It’s like she can see right through him.

“So you’re taking her home?” Derek asks, speeding along the process and for that Spencer considers himself forever grateful.

“Yeah, you know we are neighbors after all,” Spencer reasons.

The awkward silence in the kitchen is only interrupted by JJ’s quiet humming to the song that plays in the background. Derek and Emily share a knowing glance as Penelope starts pouring the next round of shots.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, Y/N is waiting for me in the car,” Spencer says without a further glance to his very perceptive colleagues.

“You go take care of Y/N, Pretty Boy!” Derek yells as Spencer walks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

When Spencer gets to his car, he stops himself before opening the door. In the light from the lamppost, Spencer can see his reflection in the back window of his car. He runs a hand through his hair and attempts to fix the crookedness of his tie. Smiling to himself, Spencer gets into the driver’s seat of his car and is greeted by Y/N, who even in the dark makes him feel alive.

“Hey,” he offers nervously. Even though they’ve been together loads of times, there is a tingle of intimidation that settles in his heart everytime she looks at him.

Never the one to shy down from a confrontation, Y/N leans in and places her hand gracefully on Spencer’s neck and her face looms close to his ear. Her voice is low and seductive and Spencer swears he can feel himself melt at the feeling of her being this close and him able to touch her. He brings his hands up to rest, one on her upper thigh, placed bravely under the slip of her silk dress, and the other draws circles around her elbow..

“Spencer, I need you to drive us home,” Y/N tells him a voice that Spencer knows he could never deny.

He doesn’t answer her, because the silence speaks for itself. They can hear all they need to know in the silence. The quiet way that their bodies seem to just gravitate to each other. Spencer’s hand cups Y/N’s thigh and her fingers graze the back of Spencer’s neck. It’s those quiet touches that tell the other what they are too afraid to say aloud.

The quietness settles between them even as they pull into the parking spot. It’s like they’re dance partners, completely a routine of sneaking in the shadows effortlessly. Or like they’re actors in a play, pretending that they’re not dying to play the role in reality. It’s a dangerous game that they play. But all of that is forgotten, pushed to the side as Spencer opens the door and the curtain rises.

Y/N initiates the kiss, pushing Spencer down on the couch. She straddles his waist, her silky green dress spills over her thighs and Spencer is in awe of how the color contrasts against her bare skin. He’s not an artist, but looking at her he’s sure he has laid his eyes on the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. He might not believe in magic, it’s all just science and mind tricks, but he’s nothing but transfixed at the women sitting in his lap.

“Spencer, please get these clothes off,” Y/N commands in a voice that gives away how badly she wants him.

“Wait your turn, Y/N” Spencer says in a teasing tone that brings out Y/N’s sly smile.

“Then do something!” Y/N shouts, getting even more impatient than she was in the car.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I-I mean you’re always so beautiful, but you’re just so-” Spencer stammers over his words, and the only thing he’s sure of is that his insecurity is the biggest turn off. But Y/N continues to surprise him each and everyday, and tonight is no less.

“Slow down, baby. It’s just me. There’s no need to go so fast right now. We have all night,” Y/N soothes, craning down her neck to plant wet kisses down Spencer’s neck. She’s probably leaving marks, Spencer thinks, but his desire to be seen as her’s outweighs the teasing from Morgan on Monday.

The fact that it’s Y/N perched in his lap, kissing down his neck and wiggling around in a way that she can feel everything does nothing to fend off the adrenaline that Spencer’s high off of.

“I need to see your face,” Spencer says holding her by the shoulders. He reaches around her as she leans back to unzip her dress. She stands so it falls to the ground in a pool of dark green fabric. Her body is out in the open to him and Spencer’s flushed face must be on fire by now.

“I need to see your face, Spencer,” Y/N says in a way that Spencer knows that he can’t disobey.

There’s that silence again. That loud silence, filled with lines of unsaid love poems and quiet love songs. The silence that says the perfect things that Y/N deserves to hear, but Spencer is too scared to say. Three months too soon to say, I love you, Spencer tells himself. His mind spins so fast that he feels guilty for neglecting the naked woman standing before him.

“If you’re gonna fuck me Spence, we’re gonna do it in a bed. I love you and all but this couch is not going to handle me when I get a hold of you,” Y/N says as she runs off into his bedroom, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake.

Spencer swallows down his fears and anxieties. He sheds his clothes off during his walk to the bedroom. Y/N lies down on his bed and Spencer won’t let the silence speak for him this time.

“How are you this perfect, Y/N?” Spencer asks as he crawls in between Y/N’s legs. He rests his hands on her upper thighs and looks at her like expects her to answer his question. Spencer dips his fingers down to the place Y/N wants him the most. In the low light from Spencer’s lamp he can see how his fingers glisten.

“You took too long at Penny’s Spence, I had to start without you,” Y/N explains, a slight flush to her cheeks reminds Spencer that she too is just as affected by him as he is by her.

“You touched yourself in my car?” Spencer asks pressing a firm kiss on each side of Y/N hip bones. He dances his long fingers up to her stomach, where her own hands sit as if she’s shielding this part from him.

“Yeah,” Y/N tells him, slightly breathless from the small kisses Spencer places on her stomach and back down to the softest part of her inner thighs. He tells himself that he’s got to slow himself down before he loses it at the site Y/N wriggling and moaning at his smallest touches.

“I left you a present in your glove compartment, Spence,”

“Huh, who knew I had such a naughty girl,” Spencer says with an unfamiliar bravery in his voice. Unsurprisingly, Y/N picks up on this and decides to see how far she can take it.

“I have needs, Spencer. Do you think you can take care of them?”

Spencer doesn’t respond, but ducks his head down to drag his tongue across her clit, feeling how wet she is. He refuses to break eye contact and realizes how obsessed he would get if she’d let him do this for the rest of his life. Spencer’s eyes carefully watch how Y/N’s facial expressions morph in intense pleasure. It’s like a science experiment. When he plunges his tongue into her, she closes her eyes. But when he blows softly on her inner thighs then leaves hot, wet kisses her fingers come up to latch onto his scalp. He peers at her and waits for the way she moans when he slips one, then two fingers in her. He curls them up in such a way that he knows drives her crazy.

“Oh my God, Spencer! Please,” Y/N cries, twisting in the sheets. He continues at the pace he’s set, chasing the blissful feeling of her coming undone because of him. The moments leading up to her release, Y/N tears her hand away from Spencer’s head and connects her palm into his. Holding her hand, Spencer whispers praises and presses small kisses into her pussy.

“Come here and kiss me now, baby. I need you,” Y/N whispers, grasping onto whatever parts of Spencer she could touch. Her fingers move to cup his face and she holds him like he’s made of glass. In between the soft sheets and even softer touches, Spencer knows what it’s like to feel precious. Y/N cranes her head forward to attack Spencer’s neck with kisses. She relishes in the soft and supple skin of his neck. Once again, Spencer finds himself not caring that she’s going to leave marks.

“How are you this perfect, Spencer?” Y/N asks Spencer, who for the first time in his life does not have an answer for a question.

He closes his and lets himself float around in the fuzzy feeling in his brain. All he can focus on is Y/N’s mouth. The way her praises make him believe in forever and the way her kisses litter his cheeks, eyes, chest.

“You’re the perfect one, Y/N. I don’t even compare,” Spencer says as he watches Y/N twist underneath him and somehow maneuver herself so he lies beneath her.

“None of that, Spencer” She tells him sharply. Y/N drags her nails down Spencer’s chest, not leaving scratches, just light discoloration. Her head and mouth is dangerously close to where his hardened cock lays leaking between his legs.

She grasps around the base and just gingerly touches him that Spencer is sure he’s going to be blinded from the pleasure. Suddenly he feels almost self conscious. His anxiety is not unknown to Y/N, who lays a comforting hand in his, mirroring her earlier motion.

“You don’t have to Y/N. I mean if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think just because I’m your boyfriend and I did it for you-” Spencer rushes out, terrified of what Y/N’s reaction will be.

“Look at me, Spencer. Do you want me to suck your cock, baby? Look at me,” Y/N says in a voice that Spencer doesn’t recognize and doesn’t dare ignore.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice shakes as he feels Y/N’s mouth take in his tip. He hisses at the sensation. The smallest movements set him on fire. Spencer’s large hands come up to hover over Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” Y/N says before she deepens her hold of. She releases him to glide her younger down the side, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure in Spencer’s entire being.

“You like that, Spencer. You like my mouth on your cock, baby?” Y/N eggs him on.

Even though he’s lost the ability to speak, Spencer’s moans bounce around the room. He knows he’s a whimpering mess below Y/N, but he’s chasing the feeling of release shamelessly.

“Y/N, Y/N. Baby, you gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum right now,” Spencer chants, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hand. He forces himself to calm down to focus on Y/N, but it’s a little difficult when all Y/N is focusing on him.

Spencer sat up, his back against the headboard, and he pulled Y/N forward so she rested in his lap. She grins up at him, and Spencer can feel his heart squeeze at the look. She’s going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die a happy man.

Much to Y/N’s pleasure, Spencer lets out a lewd moan as she grinds down, pressing her wet pussy to his throbbing cock. He feels a little ridiculous getting so worked up and she’s not even inside him yet.

“Please, Y/N. I need you, I’m not going to last long,” Spencer utters. He says her name like a prayer, it’s a hymn to her ears.

“I got you, Spence,” she tells him, sheathing his length into her.

Spencer pulls Y/N in closer so that their chests are flush together. Among the chorus of moans and mumbles of praise, Spencer reaches down to hold Y/N’s hand. He’s not a believer in soulmates. He was sure that he’d never find his match. Never find the one person who’d share his dreams and become his dream. But sitting there, Spencer cannot deny that he’s tethered to Y/N. Their hands link together and mouths refuse to let go, searching for any exposed skin.

“Spencer,” Y/N groans, leaning her forehead into his. She looks into his eyes and Spencer dares to wonder if her eyes are glassy because of him. It’s magic how someone like her can make a believer, a dreamer out of a man afraid of living.

Spencer closes his eyes in pure ecstasy. Y/N sucks along the tender skin of his chest, causing him to flush at her ministrations. He can feel her tighten inside him, so he snakes his fingers down to stroke her clit, exciting moans and more fervent kisses along his chest and up to his ear.

“Just like that, Spence. You’re so perfect my sweet boy,”

“Y/N, cum on me, cum on me baby,” Spencer cries, finally able to let go as he feels himself come undone underneath Y/N.

Spencer’s whimpers and constant moans set Y/N over the edge. She mewled into Spencer’s shoulder, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. As her orgasm rakes over her body, Y/N tugs on Spencer’s hair, suddenly quite happy he’s keeping it almost shoulder length.

Both of them feel their bodies come back to life, their breathing steadies and their hearts seem to beat a little bit slower. Gone were the array of moans. Gone was the burning desire to chase their release. Gone was the sound of praise. All that stands between Spencer and Y/N is the silence. The silence that says quite enough for them.

The silence that’s braver than Spencer.

He’s quiet as Y/N flops to his side, entirely spent and tired from the company of friends and strenuous activities that just transpired.

“I know what you’re thinking, Spence” She offers, turning to her side to look at him. He gives her a straight faced smile, unsure of how to approach the subject. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking about, sometimes even before he’s thinking about it.

“I meant it, Spencer. I really do love you,” Y/N professes, finally breaking the silence. Spencer swallows as his eyes scan the girl before him.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Spencer says quietly, and suddenly realizes that it’s probably not what a girl who just confessed her love for you wants to hear. But he knows that Y/N understands-- she understands him.

“What I mean is, I want midnight coffee nights with you. I want small talk and deep conversations and everything in between,” Spencer says quickly. “I want you in secret Y/N, but I want you in public too,”

Spencer watches his confession settle into Y/N’s face. He’s scared for the rejection, for the daylight to break on his dream.

“I’ve waited for you to say that for so long, Spence,” She says, leaning in to close the gap between their naked bodies. Spencer pulls her in to rest his chin on top of Y/N’s head. It’s comforting being there, feeling her heartbeat in the tune of his own. He feels safe, wrapped up around in Y/N.

They’re sweaty and smell like sex, but Spencer doesn’t care. His hair is messy and he’s exhausted, but Spencer doesn’t care. His neck and chest are littered with lovebites and marks, but Spencer doesn’t care. After months of running around in the shadows, months of letting the unsaid say what he desperately wants to say, months of being patient but dying with anticipation, Spencer doesn’t care. Spencer doesn’t care because on Monday morning, Y/N won’t drop his hand when they walk into the bullpen.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor

Comment or send in an ask if you’d like to be tagged (please specify if you don’t want to be tagged in NSFW, but make sure your age is in your bio)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader

780 notes · View notes

kwonhoshi0 · 3 years

Text

𝟒𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 | valentines event

navigation | requests : open | 14th feb 2021

“It’s Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend seems to be a bit nervous, will he be sharing his first time with you? or maybe trying out some new kinks and toys? Why don’t you come join us and find out!”

pairing : denki x fem!reader

genre : smut, fluff

word count : 2.2k+

warnings : 17+, smut with a plot

themes : read -> ,praise!kink, thigh riding, use of electricity, established relationship, almost being caught, nipple play, daddy!kink overstimulation, cum play, first experience, aged up (third years), spit play?, soft dom!denki, biting

thank you so much for letting me participate in this event loves! corruption masterlist

event : @ultimate-astridwriting

it’s valentines day, unlike last year or the year before you were actually excited for today, now that you have a loving boyfriend you have something to look forward to.

you woke up besides your boyfriend in his dorm room, his head layed comfortably on your chest and his arms around your waist you giggled at how cute he looks, his hair hung over his eyes as his lips were stuck in a pout, you carefully moved his hair out of his face. ‘morning denks’ you smiled at him as he hummed in his morning voice ‘morning sunshine’ he shifted from your chest moving up and nuzzled his nose into your neck nipping and kissing at the skin making you giggle, ‘what time is ittt’ he drawled his breath hot against your neck, you grabbed your phone from the bedside table pressing the power button, ‘it’s 8:30’ you mumbled into his hair placing your phone back down, ‘imm sleepy’ giggling at his antics you pinned his arms down so you’re now on top of him and kissed his forehead before peeling away from him running into the bathroom.

you grabbed some shorts since you only slept in your underwear and one of denki’s shirts last night, slipping them on you carefully squeezed some toothpaste on your toothbrush and wet it a little under the faucet before brushing your teeth, after a couple minutes you spit the aftermath into the sink the tingly taste lingered in your mouth. where is it you thought before noticing the cleanser bottle, after a couple minutes you finished your morning routine and fixed your hair up.

slipping back into your boyfriends room you opened the curtains about to pull him out of bed you noticed he’d already gotten up, so you hopped downstairs and fixed up some coffee, ‘happy valentine’s day my baby’ denki slipped behind you his hands resting on your waist as he smothered you in kisses, you laughed as you hugged him sighing into him as comfort washed over you ‘happy valentine’s day denks’.

‘you’re both fucking disgusting’ bakugou groaned as he eyed you both from the table, you snickered as denki walked behind bakugou and ruffled his hair, ‘GET OFF ME DUNCE FACE’ he yelled making you both double over in laughter, during their bickering momo slid over to you leaning against the counter, ‘i’m going to do it’ you gaped at the girl ‘really!? you’re finally going to tell her you like her?’ you smiled jumping a little ‘shush! yes i’ll do it, but i need help’ you nod like a child at her words. ‘what do you need help with?’ you smiled sipping your coffee, ‘since we’re all going to go to the movies i need to get her alone to ask her, i have a little idea, maybe you could ask if we could go on a double date and we tell the others but you and denki go back to the dorms or something so we’re alone !, i know that if i just ask her to talk alone everyone’s going to question us’ you listened carefully smiling every couple seconds, ‘of course! momo i’m so so proud of you’ you hugged her, she returned the hug resting her chin on your shoulder ‘thank you y/n this means so much’ before you could say anything back denki came back to pester you ‘heyy hands off, she’s mine’ he said childishly making grabby hands at you, you grinned at him rolling your eyes.

after breakfast you hopped up the stairs to your room opening your closet door, what do i wear you thought brushing your hands across the line of clothes. in the end you decided on a black miniskirt and a dark green oversized jumper paired with some jewellery and boots, you did your makeup before hearing a knock on your door, opening it you smiled. ‘woah baby, you look amazing as always’ he admired, his hand traced your face until his finger reached your lips you bit him playfully as his face inched closer to yours ‘suck’, you suppressed a whimper and did as he said, your lips wrapped around his finger and he watched intently before pulling his hand away and catching your lips with his own, his lips moved in sync with yours, eagerly nipping at your bottom lip making you groan into his mouth, in that moment he slipped his tongue into your mouth moving against your own slowly, ‘Y/N DENKI ARE YOU READY TO GO?’ mina yelled from downstairs, sighing you both pulled away, you giggled at his flushed state ‘we’ll finish this later babe’ he whispered entwining his hand with your own.

you guys took UA’s minibus to the movies, even though it wasn’t far you all wanted to scream songs as long as you can, so after lots of yelling and singing you arrived at the cinema, you sat inbetween denki and mina, you love the aesthetic of the cinema, the dimmed lights leaving only a screen to brighten the room, you leaned over to your boyfriend nudging your nose against his cheek ‘hi baby’ he laughed at your motions taking your hand with his own kissing the back of it before moving his hand to your cheek giving you a gentle kiss, you didn’t realise your friends all watching you ‘alright we get it you’re in love’ mina pouted before slumping into your shoulder ‘i want someone to be disgustingly in love with’ the pout not leaving her lips. you moved so your head was on top of hers ‘you’ll find love bub’ to which she just sighed ‘denki can you please give me your girlfriend, i think i’m in love’ you all laughed as denki took the arm closest to him and trapped it between his own arms ‘too bad she’s mine’.

after a lot of popcorn and fizzy drinks it was time for your plan with momo, ‘hi ! jirou.. would you like to come on a double date with kaminari and y/n’ momo blurted out a little red, ‘oh.. i’d love to’ she said as warmth took over her face. ‘im so proud of you !!’ you half yelled hugging momo, ‘i was so scared she’d say no’ she sighed in your arms smiling. in the distance denki’s eyes flickered to you, a comfortable smile on his face as he watched you, the girl he’d do anything for, his eyes twinkled ‘i’m so lucky to have her’ he said quietly, ‘i remember when you had the biggest crush on her and you couldn’t even talk to her’ kirishima laughed admiring the love you share.

-‘oh- uh hi y/n’ the blonde boy stuttered out, ‘hey denks are you okay?’ you smiled at your crush, it was 8pm you and all your friends were at a beach, and since you’re in your first year you weren’t really allowed to be outside this late but no one had to know that, the sky in front of you was setting in hues of blue and pink, rippling like a puddle with the essence of magic. ‘i’m okay but you look cold’ he avoided your gaze looking at the goosebumps on your skin, you both sat around the campfire with your friends, mina and kirishima played cards as bakugou yelled at midoriya, momo and jirou talking about the ocean, sero and tsu comparing their quirks, the waves crashing on the beach. ‘i’m a little cold but i’m okay’ you smiled shifting closer to him, his breath hitched a little, instead of asking he just took a jumper from his bag and motioned you to lift your arms up which you rolled your eyes and did as he giggled, ‘thank you denki’ your eyes look like gems he thought. ‘denki?’ you were pouting he smiled at your expression leaning towards you a little ‘mm’ you giggled at him taking his hand from his lap onto yours, he looked up at you with bug eyes ‘can i-um’ he started he lost his words staring at you , you looked away smiling at his shy side and shifted closer to him your knees now touching. to see his reaction you placed your chin on his shoulder making him stare at you harder with the same bug eyes, you lifted your head a little now feeling his breath on your lips, nudging his nose with your own you kissed him, gently moving your arms around his neck and he relaxed into it placing his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, he hummed into the kiss which made you smile, feeling you smile into the kiss you both pulled away. ‘dont laugh at me’ he pouted as your friends stopped and closed their mouths which were open in shock and yelled things along the lines of ‘FINALLY’ and ‘DENKI YOU DIDNT ELECTROCUTE HER’.-

that was yours and denki’s favourite day and here you are still going strong 2 and a half years later, you both only lost your virginity earlier this year but you trusted eachother and couldn’t imagine losing it to anyone else.

‘hey denks it’s time to go back to the dorms’ you smiled tugging on his hand, ‘jirou said yes!?’ he asked as his eyes lit up with joy for his friend ‘of course she did dummy come onn’. for the next hour you were meant to be watching a mini movie but for the plan momo had come up with you were meant to be back at the dorms and jirou and momo at the ‘double date’ in the restaurant next to the cinema.

10 minutes later you arrived at the dorms and threw your bag on his gaming chair before slumping down onto your boyfriends bed sighing. he laughed moving your bag to the end of the bed and sitting into the chair, ‘baby come here’ you glanced over at him motioning to his lap ‘mmm tired’ you pout as you shuffled over and climbed into his lap, he shifted forward slightly to allow your legs to sit behind his back. ‘how long do we have until the others get back?’ he said into your neck, glancing at the time you replied ‘uhh around 40 minutes’ you felt him smirk into your neck before biting down making you suppress a whimper ‘perfect’.

‘denks what are you-’ before you could finish your sentence he reached under your jumper and cupped your breast, squeezing it slightly. you sighed as your head fell back grinding down into him, ‘feel so fucking good’ he groaned catching your lips with his own, your mouth a mess of tongue and saliva together, you both pulled away a string of your spit between you, as he pulled your jumper off he thrusted his hips up making you moan out and whine at the lack of friction, wetness pooled beneath your legs, he parted his legs a little and picked you up placing you on his thigh, ‘wanna try something new sunshine’ he whispered darkly in you ear, you nod at him making him move towards your ear biting at it ‘use your words’. whimpering you said

‘yes denki p-please’

he smirked at your words pushing your hips down into his thigh your wet panties rubbing against him, groaning he gripped your thighs ‘so fucking wet, i wanna see you get yourself off on my thigh’ he whispered his breath tickling your neck, embarrassed you started moving your hips groaning as your back arched slightly allowing space for denki to move his mouth down from your neck to your bra, he slid the straps down and sighed in pleasure at your hardened nipples taking one into his mouth and kneading the other with his fingers, his other hand pushed down on your hip as you worked against his thigh, he moaned loudly from your thighs rubbing against his cock, you felt a familiar knot in your stomach ‘d-enki i need more’ you whimpered, he moved his hand from your hip down to your clit as he moved up to your collarbone sucking dark patches across your body chuckling he sighed ‘you want my sparks again baby?’ you shuddered and moaned at his words, he rubbed messy circled on your clit a few sparks of yellow emitted below you both as you got faster on his thigh, you were shaking from the sparks but it felt so good ‘good girl, you look so fucking hot like this, your cum all over my thighs’ he groaned as his eyes rolled back a little, the knot in your stomach began to grow his fingers still working at your clit, you brought a hand down to his cock swiping over the head with your fingers the precum coating the tip, he shuddered at your touch moving his lips back to your tits, he could feel you close to your high, ‘let go baby, cum all over my legs’ you brought his hand over your mouth as you moaned out releasing over him, he did the same hearing your moan.

breaths heavy he lifted your hand up from his dick back to your lips ‘open up’ you did as he told, he shoved his fingers in your mouth and watched as you sucked them clean groaning at the sight.

‘6 minutes till they get back’ he smiled ‘do you think we have time for-’ you read his mind ‘mm no harm in trying’, he grinned lifted you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as you fell onto the bed giggling, ‘couldn’t have put it better myself sunshine.’

709 notes · View notes