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#help I’m having more fanfic ideas
krimsonwings · 6 months
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I hope that, in light of his increased popularity because of the movie, that Miguel O’Hara shows up in more Spider-Man media. Like, outside of the Spider-verse movie trilogy.
I see him a lot in his white suit on random merch, usually in the background, but amongst Peter and Miles. Sometimes with Gwen and Anya too.
Marvel has had no problem de-aging characters for media purposes before. Peter has been aged up n down all over the place, and even Tony Stark has been de-aged for a cartoon before, so it’d be cool to see a younger Miguel heroing alongside Miles n Peter.
I could see a teen Miguel getting trapped in the past due to some plot-related future shenanigans. The implication of how he obtained his spider half would be more horrific since he’s younger, but that can be alluded to and left to fanfiction if needed. (But is important to his character and shouldn’t be removed or diluted!)
I just wanna see a teen Miguel having some fun with Peter n Miles (while still being our favorite sarcastic ass).
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i-hatethisgoat · 7 months
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is it gayer to write crowley as femme presenting, using she/her, but referring to her in the past with he/him, OR using he/him in past scenes but also while he’s femme presenting. i need to know for science.
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theragethatisdesire · 9 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
15K notes · View notes
cillianmurphyygf · 4 months
Text
i think i'm in love with you
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ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader
warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it
summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.
word count: 2.7k
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You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 
Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.
Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.
“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.
“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.
“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.
“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.
“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-
“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.
“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”
“Princess, I-”
“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.
“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.
“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 
As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 
“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.
“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.
“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.
“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.
“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.
“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.
“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.
“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.
“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 
Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.
“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.
“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 
“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 
Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.
You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.
You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 
As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.
“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 
You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 
You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.
“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 
To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.
“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.
Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.
After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.
Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.
Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 
Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.
“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.
“What were you gonna say, baby?”
“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 4 months
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more than I can resist
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pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader x Wonwoo
genre: smut, fluff, poly!au - minors dni.
warnings: threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f and m rec), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, use of petnames (princess, sunshine, pretty boy), sub!reader, switch!wonwoo, switch!cheol, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), manhandling, hair pulling, aftercare
word count: ~3.8k
summary: you love starting your day with your boyfriend and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. but your other boyfriend has a different idea of a perfect morning.
Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.
Author's note: happy holidays beloveds, here's some woncheol filth - big thank you to @gyuwoncheol for betareading (and yelling at me hehe) and to @wooahaeproductions for helping me out with the title!
tagging @onlymingyus @smileysuh @horanghater @shuadotcom @wongyuseokie
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.
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Raindrops clatter on the window, a moody gray color engulfing the bedroom. You swear it makes you want to fall back asleep, but the warmth surrounding and the faint smell of coffee being brewed keep your eyes wide open.
You raise your torso from the bed and notice that your boyfriend is missing - now you know why the smell of coffee lingers in the air.
You push the comforter to the side before stepping on the carpeted floor, but a strong arm tugging at your wrist stops you - the wrist of your other boyfriend.
“Don’t leave yet, I wanna cuddle for a little longer.” Seungcheol pouts, voice still dipped in sleepiness.
“But Wonwoo is already up and making coffee. I don’t want to drink it cold, Cheollie.”
“But cuddles!” The blond man pouts again.
“Sorry, Cheollie, coffee is calling.” You smile softly and get up from the bed, wearing your fuzzy slippers to go to the kitchen.
Seungcheol plops down on the bed, puffing his lips in annoyance. It’s baffling how you’re willing to leave the warmth and coziness of his arms just for a cup of coffee with Wonwoo. Or maybe he’s being dramatic about it.
You, on the other hand, are absolutely delighted to be greeted with Wonwoo’s broad back, clad in a plain white t-shirt. You tiptoe your way behind him and wrap your arms around your waist to back hug him.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of your hand lovingly.
“Good morning, Wonu.” You hum and pat his abdomen. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty well. Although I wish I didn't have to spend most of the night away from you. Not to mention the amount of times Seungcheol tried to pull you away.” He comments with a small sigh.
“Oh come on, you know he’s clingy in his sleep.” 
“Y/N, clingy is Seungcheol’s middle name.” Wonwoo chuckles as he pours the dark brown liquid in the three matching cups.
“I think that’s one of the many reasons why you love him.” You tease him with a sing-song voice.
“I cannot refute that, I’m afraid.” He passes you the cup with the sun carvings on. “Enjoy the coffee, darling.”
“Thank you baby.” You take a sip and moan in satisfaction when the coffee hits your taste buds. “Perfect as always.”
“And the only thing I’m perfect at-”
“Bullshit!”
“In the kitchen, I mean.”
“Oh. Then yeah, you’re right.” You grin evilly and he swats your arm playfully.
“If you get to be a meanie first thing in the morning, then maybe I should cut down on your coffee privileges.” Wonwoo tilts his head sideways, a cat-like smirk on his face.
“Now who’s the meanie?” You put your coffee down on the counter and rest your fists on your waist.
“Honestly? He’s still sleeping in the bedroom.” Wonwoo deadpans and you snort, trying to suppress your laughter.
“You would have to bear with his pouting for the rest of the month if he heard you say that.”
“And he would get even more annoyed because I know when to not give attention to him.” He gives you a smug answer.
“Is it me or do you have a thing for arguing with Cheol?”
“I do. And frankly, I like him a bit better when he gets frustrated.” 
“Because he looks hot when he’s angry?”
“Exactly.” Wonwoo licks the corners of his lips. “Makes the ordeal a bit nastier, you know?”
“It’s always the quiet ones, I swear.” You roll your eyes and walk away from the kitchen.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“To the bathroom. I want to wash my face and do my morning routine. My eyes still feel a bit droopy.” You rub your face with your palms.
“Then stop rubbing your face, you idiot.” He laughs and you wave your hands in defeat, making your way to the bathroom.
Wonwoo is left alone in the kitchen once more and he goes back to enjoying his coffee, back turned against the rest of the living room.
He’s unaware of Seungcheol walking into the kitchen with his signature pout on, the latter feeling sulky from the lack of attention.
But as soon as he notices his boyfriend’s shoulders stretching out the fabric of his tee, the devil on Seungcheol’s shoulder is awakened and ready to take action.
The blond man presses his body on Wonwoo’s back and runs his hands over his sides, making the younger man shiver.
“Shit - you startled me, Cheol!” Wonwoo curses out loud, the half empty coffee cup nearly dropping from his hands.
“You’re one big scaredy cat, aren’t you.” Seungcheol giggles.
“Good morning to you too, I guess.”
“Where’s Y/N?”
“She’s in the bathroom to freshen up a bit.”
“So much for wanting to drink coffee with you.” 
“At least she escaped your clutches.” Wonwoo laughs.
“Gotta live up to my middle name, right?” Seungcheol presses himself a bit harder on Wonwoo, his morning wood trying to make its presence known.
“So you were awake this whole time, huh?” 
“Yeah, but the bed was too warm to not enjoy it.”
“But you got up either way. Can’t live without being the center of our attention, Cheollie?” Wonwoo teases him with the nickname, knowing how much it riles him up.
“You must be in a pretty good mood to be cracking shitty jokes now, Wonu.” Seungcheol’s hand descends towards Wonwoo’s crotch, rubbing him over his sweats. 
“And you must be really thirsty for attention to be pulling tricks like these.” He grips the older man’s wrist, low hiss echoing in the kitchen.
Seungcheol smirks at his reaction and doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down, biting his bottom lip when Wonwoo grips the counter a bit tighter.
“Losing your composure already? I thought you were stronger than that.”
“Shut up.”
“Ah ah, pretty boys like you shouldn’t say bad words.” 
A shiver runs down Wonwoo’s spine when he hears the pet name, hips bucking into Seungcheol’s hand.
“Seems like you’re the one who needs attention, Wonu.” The blond man chuckles in his ear.
“Oh my God, just stop talking and keep touching me, please.”
Seungcheol takes his hand away and turns Wonwoo around, pinning him to the counter. He might not be taller, but he’s definitely stronger and he will always find a way to use his strength to his advantage.
“Whoever did your hair last night deserves an award.”
"T-Thanks. Wish I was here with the two of you, not at some boring business dinner." 
"It's okay, Wonu. You've worked hard and it's reward time, pretty boy." 
Seungcheol drops down on his knees and unties the string of Wonwoo's sweats, pulling them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, already hard and leaking precum.
"Were you dining with your colleagues with such a boner? I almost feel sorry for you." He rubs his fingertip over the shaft and around the bulbous head.
Wonwoo turns his head away, cheeks flushed and biting the back of his hand to drown any noise that threatens to spill.
"Gosh, you're so hot when you're shy." Seungcheol breathes out and wraps his puffy lips around the tip, giving it light sucks before deepthroating Wonwoo's cock in one go.
If there’s one thing Seungcheol is good at, it’s oral sex - no matter who’s on the receiving end in your relationship, he will leave you with jelly legs.
“C-Cheol, slow down a little.” Wonwoo immediately puts his hands in his boyfriend’s hair, nearly fisting the blond strands. Seungcheol pulls away his lips with a loud, almost vulgar ‘pop’. He 
“I can go slow. But no promises on how long I’ll be able to keep it that way, pretty boy.” He chuckles before spitting on his fingers and moving them behind Wonwoo.
“Y-You don’t have to d-do this.” 
“One of us is gonna get fucked in the ass very soon and it won’t be me.” Seungcheol kisses the tip of Wonwoo’s cock and carefully slides one finger past his rim, 
“You almost sound d-disappointed.” The younger man shudders and clenches around the thick digit.
“Me? Not at all, pretty boy. But you must be disappointed, since you’re so obsessed with my ass.”
“Not my fault you’re so t-thick everywhere, fuck.”
“Aww, are you jealous, Wonu?” Seungcheol grins against Wonwoo’s cock, adding a second finger in his hole. “You shouldn’t be, though - Your body is really hot, in its own way.”
“T-Tell me more.” Wonwoo moans and grips the blond hair.
“Where should I even begin from? Your strong, broad shoulders? Your pretty collarbones?” Seungcheol showers him with compliments, his free hand coursing over Wonwoo’s body, reaching to his waist and gripping it tight. “Or your slutty little waist?” 
Wonwoo loses his patience and thrusts his cock in the older man’s mouth, both hands glued on his head to keep it in place and fuck it relentlessly. His round glasses are already fogged up and sliding down the bridge of his nose. The two fingers haven’t stopped toying with his hole, his sensitivity skyrocketing.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, God, I’m so close!” Wonwoo throws his head back, mouth wide open and tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
Seungcheol hums affirmatively and hollows his cheeks around the shaft, the tip being pushed all the way down his throat. Wonwoo’s orgasm is strong enough to make him lose his balance, but the strong arm around his waist holds him up. The man on his knees swallows every single drop of semen, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down rhythmically. A few seconds later, he detaches his mouth and fingers, breathing heavily. His half-lidded eyes staring at Wonwoo with heavy lust.
“Ahem.”
Your voice interrupts the two men and Wonwoo tries to pull up his sweats hastily.
“Don’t bother. You won’t need them anyways.” You shake your head in dismissal.
“Hey princess.” Seungcheol gets up and licks his fingers clean with a smug smile on his face.
“You seem awfully awake for someone who wanted cuddles just a few minutes ago.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.
“And you seem awfully jittery, princess. What’s wrong, hm?”
“Cheol, stop teasing her.” Wonwoo huffs.
“It’s okay, Wonu. I was heading to the bedroom anyway.” You shrug and leave the kitchen, making a turn for the bedroom. The two men peek their heads and see you throw your (Wonwoo’s) t-shirt right on the doorstep and Wonwoo pushes Seungcheol out of the way, running back to the bedroom, the older man’s laugh echoing behind him.
A grin creeps on your lips when Wonwoo’s arms wrap around your midriff and his lips attach themselves to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.
“You seem to be pretty riled up.” You murmur and push your ass on his crotch.
“Cheol’s fault.” He murmurs back and turns you around, pushing you softly on the bed to climb on top of you. “But you’re not innocent either, sunshine.”
“I know. That’s why we’re here now, right?” You toy with the hem of his shirt.
“Yeah. And I cannot wait to fuck you, sunshine.” He grazes his teeth over your pulse point, hands groping your underwear - clad body.
“Not so fast, pretty boy.” Seungcheol leans against the door frame. “I call the shots here.”
“Can you not ruin the moment for once? I missed her last night and I wanna have my time with her.” 
“You will.” H He walks behind Wonwoo and threads his hand in his hair, pulling it back harshly as he presses his lips on the shell of his ear. “As long as you do as I say, that is.”
“Cheol-” You open your mouth to speak. 
“Princess. Behave.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you pipe down, waiting for his orders. Seungcheol hums in approval and lets go of Wonwoo’s hair, who lets out a loud hiss.
“Lay on your back, pretty boy. Need you to put that mouth of yours into good use.” He orders while undressing himself till complete nakedness.
“And why should I do that?” Wonwoo scoffs in an attempt to challenge Seungcheol.
“You said you wanted to have your time with Y/N, didn’t you? You’re gonna let her sit on your face and she’s gonna use her pretty mouth for something else.”
“Damn it.” The younger man curses and strips down as well, following Seungcheol’s orders. He lies down on the bed and Seungcheol pats your thigh for you to get naked and climb over Wonwoo’s face.
“Hey sunshine.”
“Hey Wonu.” You giggle while peering your eyes down to him, his lips peppering kisses on your inner thighs.
“Eyes on me, princess.” Your other boyfriend yanks your hair back, forcing your gaze on him. “Hands down on the mattress.” 
You do as he says and you’re now on the same level as Seungcheol’s cock, the thick shaft mere centimeters away from you. You open your mouth to stretch your tongue and lick the tip, but Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on his face to eat you out. You cry out when his tongue slides across your slit, flattening it over your clit and turning it pointy when it reaches your entrance. 
“What’s wrong, princess? Does the pretty boy’s mouth feel good?” Seungcheol caresses your cheek and you nod affirmatively.
“Can’t have you all fucked out already.” He taps his cock on your cheek and you desperately chase his shaft with your mouth. He puts you out of your misery by sliding his cock down your throat, making you gag with his size. You're glad you've trained yourself (with the help of your boyfriends) to suppress your gag reflex when one of them is fucking your mouth. 
You let Seungcheol take control of your head and use it like a fucktoy to satisfy the raging erection, all while Wonwoo eats your pussy like it's the last meal he will ever enjoy on this futile planet. His hands roam your body, fingertips gliding over your hips, waist and gripping your breasts.
Your eyes flutter dangerously, hands fisting the sheets underneath you, as you let yourself enjoy what you're being provided by the loves of your life.
"Mmm, always so good at sucking dick, princess.” Seungcheol juts his hips in your mouth, loving the weight of his cock on your tongue.
You want to bob your head on your own on his cock, but the hand in your hair stops you from doing so. Instead, you ride out your frustrations on Wonwoo’s face, who doesn’t seem to mind you using him for your own pleasure.
“Pretty boy is doing a good job, isn’t he, princess?” Seungcheol slides out his cock and taps it over your cheeks, leaving wet trails of spit on your face.
“His mouth is so fucking good, Daddy.” You moan in response.
“Is that so? Is he taking care of your needy pussy?”
“Yes, he’s so good!” You dig your nails in the bed.
“He can be even better with his dick, princess. Hop off.” 
You whine in protest, but one raised brow from the blond man is enough to make you follow his orders, your other boyfriend grunting in annoyance.
“Lay on your back, princess. And pull your legs up to your chest.”
“Do you ever want to just go with the flow?” Wonwoo sits up and throws a nasty glare towards Seungcheol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No.” The older man says curtly and grabs Wonwoo by the arms, turning him around to face you and he pushes him on top of you.
“Fuck! Sorry, sunshine.” Wonwoo puts his hands on each side of your head to not crush you with his weight. “I guess someone is impatient.”
“Yeah, I am.” Seungcheol slaps his ass and kneads the flesh with his hands. “But I’m sure our dear princess is impatient as well and she would love to be stuffed full with your cock. Isn’t that right, princess?”
You nod fervently and you buck your hips directly on Wonwoo’s crotch and he moans, gripping his shaft with one hand to guide it to your entrance. A blissful sigh escapes his lips when he slides inside your pussy, enjoying your tight warmth.
“Good, stay still, pretty boy.” Seungcheol bites his bottom lip as he reaches for the lube in the drawer of the nightstand and he opens the cap to spritz a generous amount over his fingers. He carefully spreads it over his boyfriend’s ass, sliding two fingers to check whether he’s loose enough to take something bigger.
Wonwoo shudders on top of you and slowly moves his hips to start fucking you, but Seungcheol grips his waist to stabilise him.
“I said. Stay still.” He aligns the tip of his cock with the hole and pushes in with careful motions, until he’s completely sheathed in. 
“Fuck, oh fuck.” Wonwoo digs his nails in the mattress, trying his best to accommodate the stretch.
“Wonu, are you okay?” You pet the back of his hair.
“Y-Yeah, more than okay.” 
A fluid thrust from behind makes him groan again and jerks his entire body forward, resulting in a strong thrust in your cunt. You let out a gasp in response and your eyes notice the mischievous glint in Seungcheol’s eyes. He sends you a wink before he starts rutting his hips faster.
The force he exerts in fucking Wonwoo results in you getting fucked with the same pace. Both you and Wonwoo let out obscene noises in unison, your hands flying to his back.
“Your cock feels so damn good, Wonu.” You dig your nails in his back.
“God, I can’t even f-focus on what feels better right now.” He moans back and ducks his head in the crook of your neck.
“Stop being shy, pretty boy.” Seungcheol pulls Wonwoo’s hair and lifts his head to let you take a better look of his expression.
You clench around Wonwoo’s cock when your eyes fall on his flushed face and messed up hair, sweat beads forming on his forehead and eyebrows.
“How does he look, princess?”
“Fucking beautiful, Cheollie.” You whine and Wonwoo bucks his hips harder in you, pushing your body closer to the foot of the bed. 
“Pretty boy loves being praised.” Seungcheol’s thrusts take a rougher turn and snaps his pelvis almost mercilessly.
“Yes, yes I do, fuck. Harder!” The younger man begs in an embarrassing way.
“God, you sound so pretty when you beg.” You whisper loud enough to be heard in the room and smash your lips on his, your hands now moving to cup his jaw. Your tongue mingles with Wonwoo’s, sucking it passionately until you feel him whine in your mouth repeatedly. A sudden wave of sticky warmth floods your walls and you realize that your boyfriend just came inside you without a warning. 
“Mffh- ah, fuck, I’m sorry, sunshine…” He pants heavily, cock still twitching inside you as he grinds slowly. 
“Don’t worry, Wonu.” You stroke his cheek while he desperately tries to make you cum. “Can you please make me cum?”
“Shit, anything for you, sunshine.” He slides his hand between your bodies to search for your clit and rub it in rapid circles.
“How did I get so damn lucky with the two of you?” Seungcheol peers down on you as he pets Wonwoo’s hair a bit softer this time, the contrast between his hand and his hips staying sharp.
“C-Cheol, p-please.” 
“Hang in there, pretty boy, almost there.”
Seungcheol’s hand glides over Wonwoo’s spine until it grips on the other side of his waist and keeps him steady to deliver a few more thrusts. He throws his head back in bliss as the climax hits him, his heavy cock unloading globs of cum inside.
“Fucking perfect ass, so damn tight.”
Wonwoo’s head dips in your neck again as he lets out a loud sob and cums inside you again, but his hand doesn’t falter on your clit and you scream when your own orgasm crashes on you, hands struggling to find something sturdy to hold onto.
Your body decides to fall limp on the bed with Wonwoo right on top of you, who is still breathing heavily due to his consecutive orgasms.
Seungcheol slowly retracts his cock and lays on top of the two of you, catching his own breath.
“I can’t fucking move.” Wonwoo grunts.
“Me neither.” You agree in a split second.
“Did so well for me, darlings.” Seungcheol pats your thigh while pressing a kiss on Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Thank you Cheollie. Could you two please get off me now? You’re literally crushing me.” You complain to your boyfriends.
“Sorry, princess.” He laughs and sits back on the bed, allowing Wonwoo to roll on his back.
“Thank you. Can someone carry me to the bathroom now? My legs are ruined.” 
“Abusing your princess rights, aren’t you?” The older man quirks his brow.
“Are you gonna refuse?”
“Never.” He picks you up in bridal style and carries you towards the bathroom, your giggles echoing in the corridor.
About ten minutes later, you’re happily soaking in the tub, filled with warm water and a lavender scented bath bomb, all while Seungcheol walks back to the bedroom to check up on Wonwoo.
“Do you need help?”
“Nah, I’ll be okay. Just…give me a few minutes.”
“Fucked you real good, huh?”
“Not as bad as the sheets, but I digress.”
“The sheets aren’t as tight as you or Y/N, but I digress.” The blond man smirks.
“I swear to God, I’ll get back at you for this.” Wonwoo groans, trying to stretch out his legs so he’ll be able to walk all the way to the bathroom.
“Hm, really? And how are you going to do it, huh? By trying to tie me up?” Seungcheol taunts him with a cocked eyebrow.
“That’s not a bad idea actually, given how squirmy you get when your ass gets pounded from behind.” Wonwoo licks his bottom lip.
“Are you that obsessed with my ass, Wonu?”
“More like obsessed with the mental image of railing you like a bitch in heat.” 
Seungcheol lets out a dirty laugh, shaking his head as he heads out of the room. 
“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy. That ass can handle more than you can think of.” He punctuates his words by landing a slap on his ass and sending a wink to his boyfriend.
Wonwoo plops back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling, a grin plastered on his face.
He can’t wait for that day to come.
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"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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literallyangeldust · 2 months
Note
I loved the Lucifer Fanfic ! Here’s another request <3
Alastor or Lucifer with a male S/O who is sweet but has (severe) anger issues or is short tempered !! You can ignore this if you want
જ⁀➴ Lucifer Morningstar x short tempered! male reader ๋࣭ ⭑
Lucifer deals with you and your anger issues and tries his best to calm you down <;33
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D
๋࣭ ⭑ Pairing: Lucifer x short tempered! male reader
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: none!
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 412
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 8
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Headcannons!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He at first was shocked by your short temper, given how sweet you were most of the time. But soon Angel had pissed you and you had gotten… angry.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He tries his best to calm you down and cheer you up. He would do this by cracking jokes praying they don't piss you off more. If he thinks that won't work he tries to just remove you from the situation to calm you down privately.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He tries to come up with techniques for you to control your anger such as breathing techniques! He just wants you to be as emotionally healthy as possible. He also doesn't want you to kill anyone!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He makes you a stress toy duck to squeeze when you're feeling intense emotions. He hopes it might help you.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Like I said earlier he will try to remove you from the situation and once he in private he will try to talk to you and ask what's bothering you because it's better to talk then bottle stuff up.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● If you're comfortable he will put a hand on your shoulder when you're getting tense and clearly upset to try and remind you that you're not alone.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● As much as he loves you he will try to tell you when you're in the wrong. He tries to do it in a softer way in order to not make you more upset.
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Angel had been constantly picking at you all day and you were at the end of your patience. One more line from that damn spider's mouth and you were gonna lose it. You were currently sitting at the bar as Husk looked worriedly towards you. Angel's arms are wrapped loosely around your shoulders as he begins to speak again. “So–” He starts before you cut him off.
“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP GOD!” You yell loudly as Angel lifts his hands and backs away, his arms up as he walks slowly away from you. You were glaring daggers at Angel before you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over to see Luci looking with a worried look. Before you knew it you were in your room. He sighed and sat on the bed as Lucifer just looked down at you still standing.
“Are you okay?” He gently asked you with a frown. You just shook your head before he sat down next to you. “Well just take a few deep breaths, calm down.” He takes a couple deep breaths as an example and you follow suit. Slowly breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. He smiles, “Just like that good job.” He pats your back gently. “You calmed down a bit?” You just nod as you rest your head on his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He says softly before you decide to try to talk. “I don't know.. Angel just.. he doesn't know when to quit.” Well your explaining he hands you a rubber duck to squeeze as he can tell the topic is making you more tense.
You squeeze it a couple of times, it makes a small squeak every time as Lucifer pulls you close. “Well I’m sure he will apologize to you and maybe you should talk to him about it to make sure it doesn't happen again?” You groan at the idea of trying to have a conversation with him and he giggles. “Oh come on! I'm sure you could do it!” You cave and nod. He grins and begins lightly tickling you “Now come on where's that smile that I love oh so much!” You laugh and try to push him off but he won't back down. “Luci!” You yell with a smile and he smirks “There it is! You're such a sweetheart.” With that he stops tickling you and you giggle pressing a kiss to his cheek.
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gotta love the silly little king of hell! i actually love him sm T^T
notes are appreciated!! d(・∀・)b
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454 notes · View notes
tubbytarchia · 3 months
Note
Thoughts on the dynamic between TIES Tango and BB Jimmy? Or even the silly rivalry they have in SL? There’s just so much adorable fluffy potential there and I’m just 💭
- 🧚🏼‍♀️
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YOU'RE RIGHT THERE IS AND I LOVE THEM. SL ranchers are SO cute and precious its off the charts. Limited Life however...
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Ok drawing that hurt a bit so I'm immediately following up with this
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Limited Life is so carefree in general it's SO fun and probably the least angst material out of any of the Life series to me (of course there is still plenty, can't underestimate the traffic fandom's ability to find angst in everything) including Tango and Jimmy. They're so fun and you're right that it's a lot of fluff potential, mostly because Jimmy being a "bad boy" is so funny. BUT THE, MAN. TH The fact that this is the one after DL, after Jimmy so desperately wanted to apologize to Tango for how they went out and who knows if he got to do that or not. I love the idea of them reuniting in some temporary afterlife game or dark void following their deaths, but also what if they didn't get to talk... maybe it was only Tango's distant messages "you're still here? It's over. Go home. Go" that reached him and then he just didn't dare to talk about it other than the one time he instinctually called him "rancher" again. I can't help but be filled with angst when I think about LimL ranchers but I trust that where there is angst, hurt/comfort is sure to follow.... If not then I just die I guess
The bad boy sunglasses are very convenient to hide the look with which he gazes upon Tango from a distance... But then oop Tango hops through the nether portal on top of bad boy mansion and Jimmy decides to go for it, to try and harken back to how they used to be to gauge how Tango will react when he goes "The boogie's being chosen, you're here with us now, we have to look into each other's eyes!" (paraphrasing) and then he's like "oh Impulse is here too" lmao and then that's just kinda it. And then TIES blows up bread bridge and auughhghhh you know??? I'm so bad at expressing how I feel, sorry this is a ramble. But I love them so very dearly and I could absolutely imagine inconspicuous moments between them. Like whenever I think of potential LimL rancher fluff my mind goes to this one fanfic about Jimmy being sleep deprived and he just kinda ends up at TIES and Tango puts him to sleep. Stuff like that
And idk what more to say about Secret Life. Their little rivalry is so funny and literally idk if it's the fanart that has absolutely fucked with my head but every time I think about them I imagine them awkwardly flirting on complete accident and just being kind of weird but. very lovable. They had only two notable interactions and those two interactions left me permanently deranged
ANYWAY THANKS FOR THE ASK ANON
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sapchat · 6 months
Text
We Are Not Our Fathers
Azriel x Reader
Summary: You get summoned to your mate and Cassian whilst they are on a mission, only to find out there was a surprise at the end of it.
Warnings: mentions of a fight, children, and an argument between two lovers.
Words: 5k
Part 1: You are here! Part 2
Fun fact: this is technically my third fanfic now, cuz I’ve got a part one for something else and I’m writing part two, I just got this idea yesterday while listening to this playlist and was like “I need angst, azriel, his mate and a child.”
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Azriel and Cassian had been at one of the Illyrian camps investigating rumors of… something. You hadn’t been paying attention when your mate told you why, he’d been getting dressed while telling. So, you could see the distraction at the time. It had been at least two hours since your mate had left and you got summoned down the bond, and a shadow seemed to tug at your hand.
So, following the bond you appeared in a typical Illyrian Steppes living room, with Azriel at the top of the steps.
“Hey, we uh, need you up here. We thought we were done but Cass found someone.” Azriel said meeting me at the bottom of the steps and grabbing a hand, rubbing his fingers on my wrist. He picked the habit up a few years into our bond, he says it keeps him grounded, especially after or during missions like these. Nodding my head, I followed the narrow steps behind him to see Cassian standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, there was a smidge of blood on the side of a wall, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk in on.
A little winged child was not what I was expecting. Cassian looked at me sheepishly then nodded to the side so the three of us could talk.
“So, I’m going to assume we didn’t know there was a child here?” I asked leaning against the wall.
“From what we could tell there were no reports of a child when we first started getting reports of the retaliation happening. My shadows also didn’t pick up on a child when we got here, so either he was just hiding really well because of the guests in the house, or he snuck in.” Azriel responded.
“Any idea how much he heard? Or what does his parental situation look like?” I asked, I needed to know how bad this situation could be. Especially if this child doesn’t have a family because of its father’s or mother’s choices.
“For the most part, some of them went easy. Only three of ‘em put up any real fight, hence some of the blood there by your head,” Cassian started.
“Ew, thanks for telling me that one.” I’ll just shuffle to the side.
“As for a possible guardian, he hasn’t answered any questions. He did call me a bastard though, so I guess he has listened to something while around them.” Cassian finished. He seemed almost more stressed than I. I assume because he’s become quite partial to being babysitter for Nyx in the last few months for Feyre and Rhysand to be able to go out.
“What do you think, he’s probably what four, maybe five. You have more experience in working with kids, and with Madja, what do you think his outcome is with what he’s been dealt.” Azriel asked, dragging a scarred hand down his face.
“All children are different. One could experience something awful like the death of a parent and not remember anything about it. Others could never recover from it and grow up acting out the rest of their lives. It’s just a matter of how they get help. And knowing this camp, they probably won’t get much mental help at all. You two should know that” It’s not what they wanted to hear I imagine, but it was the truth. “So, what’s the plan? I assume if you have summoned me here you want me to go talk to him?”
“Yea actually, that’s exactly what so thanks for offering that so we don’t have to ask.” Cassian states rubbing the back of his head. Little shit.
Sighing, I turn my eyes to my mates, who just shrugged. I’ve been left here with the two most awkward people when it comes to random kids. Such a surprise came from the man-child Cassian himself. I roll my eyes, but send something to calm down the bond, and turn to go into the room.
The child is on the smaller side, evidence of the winter that’s still in the mountains so it’s evident his family doesn’t have much money for food. He’s got some dirt on his clothes so he’s either been out playing today or he just doesn’t have many clothing options. His wings were on the smaller side for what we assume his age group is, so he either is just going to have slightly smaller wings, or he’s developmentally delayed for his possible age. Probably due to the lack of food and hygiene.
I step slowly into the room, trying to make my slightly tall frame smaller. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
The little boy looked at me with wide hazel eyes, a twinkle in it that I couldn’t tell meant he was scared or intrigued by my presence. “Hawthorne.”
“Hawthorne huh?” You ask, then tell him your name, “Are you okay Hawthorne?” I ask him, he sits up just a little taller, a twitch in his bat-like wing following after.
He nodded his head in response, and I nodded back in understanding. “I was wondering who you were here with buddy? It’s okay if I call you buddy, right?”
“I was with my daddy. and I don’t know if you can call me buddy. Daddy’s usually the only one that does. Daddy said it’s cause we’re friends, but I don’t know you.” He answers sheepishly looking around my body towards the end, telling me I have a shadow, likely two of them.
“Well, if I tell you something about me, and then you tell me something, then we would be friends, wouldn’t we?” He hesitates, thinking about the question then nods his head quickly.
“Okay, well you know my name already,” I say then move to sit on the corner of the bed and make it seem like I’m thinking about my fact, “One of my favorite things ever, is getting to go and watch the sunrise or sunset as it comes up or down, and it shine on the soft snow. It’s really pretty.” I say, his head perks up a little at what I tell him.
“I like that too! I also like it when it storms, 'cause that means I don’t have to go out and I get to stay inside with my daddy.” He says. I smile at his enthusiasm of getting to share something we both like.
“I’ll tell you another secret then.” His eyes get really wide, and I feel a questioning brush through the bond. “I also like it when it storms. Because that means I get to stay inside with my friends.”
“Are they your friends?” Hawthorne asks looking at Cassian and Azriel behind me.
“Yeah, those are my really good friends, Cassian and Azriel. They… came to talk to the people that were downstairs. Did you know them?” I ask, glancing at the two males behind me, who are trying to seem small, but with the size of Cassian and Azriel’s wings. They’re failing.
“It was my daddy and their friends. I heard lots of yelling. And that they called your friends bastards. So, I did when they came up here. Where is my daddy?” I looked at Azriel for an answer, he looked down and then at Hawthorne.
“We took your father somewhere so we could talk with them. Do you have a mother we could take you to? Or anyone else.” Azriel answered the child.
Hawthorne shook his head no, “Daddy says mommy died when I was little, even smaller than now. And daddy says I’m the only thing he has left. But I think that’s silly 'cause we have neighbors!”
I sigh and look at my mate and Cassian, I then look back to the hallway and back to the child, “Hawthorn I’m going to go talk with my friends really quick, are you okay here?” The boy nods his head and watches as the three of us leave the room.
It’s now my turn to rub my hands down my face. “What do we do with him? I assume mom either died in childbirth or from sickness. And now we’ve got dad where he’s going to probably be punished for what they’ve been planning.”
Cassian almost winces at the last part, “His father was one of the people to put up a fight. We’ve got him in Hewn City right now, one of the others said he’s the ring leader for wanting to try and get rid of Rhys, and ‘go back to the old ways.’”
“Gotta love males and their ever-needing reason to be on top,” Azriel said laying back against the wall across from me, one of his feet resting between my ankles.
“We asked Rhys what he thought. He thinks it should be up to you.” Cassian said.
I processed the question for a second. Thinking about the options that are available. If Hawthorne stays, he’ll be homeless, wandering the streets like Cassian did; and based on how he looks already, he probably wouldn’t last long. Or taking him with us. To Velaris and trying to find him a place there. He could stay in the House of Wind until we find somewhere or someone.
I look at Azriel and he nods, knowing what I’m going to decide. If I had it my way, there would be no children wandering the roads here in the camps. But the orphanage idea has been slow, Devlon the only one wanting to even entertain the idea.
“Take him with us. He’ll be better off in Velaris, and until we can find somewhere permanent, he can stay in the House with us all.” I say, Cassian nods knowing I’m making the decision based on what he’s told me of his past before Rhys and his mother.
“Looks like you’ll get a friend Cassian, I’ll be sure to set up playdates.” Azriel says pushing off the way and patting his brother on the back.
Cassian had a shocked look on his face, eyes following Azriel as he followed me back into the room Hawthorne was patiently waiting in.
“Hey, Hawthorne? How about you come with me and my friends for a little bit, until we can see if your father gets into trouble, okay?” I asked going in and sitting on his bed, angling my body to be eye level with the winged boy. He seemed to sit and think about it for a second, then spared Azriel a questioning look before looking back at me.
“Will I still get to do my training?”
My eyes widen just a tad. Training at five? I look over my shoulder to Cassian and Azriel in question.
“Yeah me, and Cassian can help with that. We’re both really going at flying so we can help you learn some.” Azriel told the child, putting a lot of emphasis on them being so good at flying. This seemed to make the boy happy.
“Okay then. I guess I’ll come with you. But I get to bring my toys!”
“We wouldn’t expect you to leave them behind buddy. Now where are your clothes?” I said standing from the bed and ruffling my fingers through his dark brown almost black hair.
Hawthorne jumped from the bed, his little wings flapping as he did, and ran to the dresser in the corner of the room. He pulled open a drawer almost at eye level and grabbed what little clothes sat in there. “Here they are!” He ran back over and handed them to me. He only had two shirts and another pair of pants, plus only a few pairs of undergarments.
I looked in the direction of my mate and he nodded at what I was thinking. We’ll have to get him some more clothes. I held my hand out and Azriel summoned a bag from the shadows and handed it to me. I usually use it for the farmers market, but I’ll just get a new one.
“Okay, bubs, come here and I’ll hold you while Azriel takes us back to the house.” The boy hopped over with a questioning look on his face.
“He’s going to fly both of us to your house?”
“Nope! He’s going to do something called winnow, which means,” I sat for a second thinking how to explain this to a child, “he’ll grab my and Cassian's hand, and then we’ll disappear and then reappear in the house!” Yeah, that was a great explanation.
Hawthorne seemed to question it for a second, then came over and all but crawled up into my arms. I moved the bag to my shoulder and then joined Azriel and Cassian. The three of us all looked at each other as if questioning what I’d decided.
And into the shadows we went, only for Azriel to then grab onto me tighter to glide us down to the balcony of the House of Wind. Hawthorne gripped my neck tighter looking around at all he could see of Velaris. And I knew I had made a good decision for the boy.
Feet touching the ground Hawthorne all but leaped from my arms to run and look over the balcony, pulling himself up by using his feet on the spindles to gain leverage to look out. Mouth opening by the second, I leaned back against Az watching the boy. He’s never seen so many people at once living in such a beautiful place.
“Hawthorne, wanna go get a quick snack before we get you cleaned up in a tub?” I asked leaving my mates front to join the boy at the railing. He looked up at me with wide eyes before looking back out towards the Sidra. “It’ll all still be here when we’re done. And if you’re not tired then you can even see it once the sun goes down. It looks even better.” He turned back with a slightly toothless grin and nodded enthusiastically, jumping from the side, and gripping my hand swinging from it.
Walking into the sitting room I walked the boy towards the kitchen. Already sitting on the counter was a little dinner for the boy, the House instantly knowing what was needed of it. I helped him up onto a stool he quickly dug into his dinner.
“Easy now, don’t want to eat too fast and make yourself sick,” I advised brushing a finger across his back. I walked around the counter and grabbed a small cup and filled it with water so he could drink as well.
Once he was done eating, he quickly gulped down the water and brushed his mouth on his hand, then proceeded to wipe the hand on his shirt. Boys. I grabbed him before he had a chance to run off and walked him up to mine and Azriel’s bathing room where Az sat pouring a few drops of bubbles into the bath.
I set Hawthorne down on the ground and allowed him to undress so he could climb in the bath and gave my mate a quick peck on the cheek in thanks. Admiration flowed down his side of the bond as I leaned over and started wetting Hawthorne’s hair. He splashed around a little playing with the bubbles as I washed the grime off of him.
Once I was done, I grinned and grabbed a handful of bubbles and placed them on his head. The little Illyrian quickly looked up at me and proceeded to grin. And without a moment's notice he flapped his wings in the water spraying water all over me.
We both sat in silence for a little bit, me in shock and him with a look that said, ‘Uh oh’. Then I started laughing, and Hawthorne quickly realized he wasn’t in trouble for getting water over me.
After his bath, and the fight of drying him off, and the battle of getting him dressed. I did as I had promised and walked him back to one of the balconies so he could watch the ending of the sunset and all the lights of Velaris come on. We sat quickly, him in amazement, me writing down some reports to send to Rhys in the morning.
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It was in the middle of the night I was awoken to one of Azriels shadows, Azriel rousing from sleep himself and moving a wing off of me to see what was happening. Then I heard soft padding down the hall, and a shuffling of wings. I then heard the door move a bit as someone jumped and grabbed the doorknob, and the door quietly moved open.
Raising our heads, we were greeted with Hawthorne sniffling as he waddled into the room. He looked up at the two of us from the foot of the bed, glancing back and forth. I glanced at Azriel and silently asked if he’d allow the boy in the bed with us.
Azriel looked at me, then flopped back on his stomach and grumbled “Once you feed them and let them sleep in the bed, they end up staying. Look at Cass.”
I lightly slapped his arm and raised up more and nodded to my side of the bed. Hawthorne quickly shuffled over and climbed his way into the bed and my arms. “Wanna talk about it?” I quietly asked.
He shook his head and placed his wet face into my neck. I hummed an okay and moved the blankets back over us and went back to sleep, Azriel’s wing shifting back over as he moved around.
In the morning I awoke to an empty bed, not unusual with Az doing morning training, but I distinctly remember a little boy crawling into the bed in the night as well.  
Climbing out of bed, a shadow greeted me happily and started leading me in the direction of the living room; and was greeted by Cassian holding the boy in the air telling him to get ready, and Azriel sat in a chair drinking tea.
“If he breaks something Cassian, you get to tell Rhys.” I said, walking further into the room and joining Azriel on the armrest, his hand wrapping around my hip and patting it. Azriel tilted his head in a way saying, ‘That’ll be fun’ and went back to his morning readings.
“Hey, we learn to fly by being dropped from different heights, I figured you prefer it in the living room, where he could land on the couch.” The general replied, letting go of the boy and allowing him to flap-glide his way to the couch in question.
I let the two continue and looked down to my mate, “Wanna join me in the kitchen, so we could talk about H-A-W-T-H-O-R-N-E’s F-A-T-H-E-R?” He nodded his head and took my hand to lead me in the direction of said room. Already on the counter was my breakfast, courtesy of the house which I thanked, and a steaming glass of coffee.
“I went earlier this morning. He’s not wanting to give us anything. Rhys wants to make an example of them.” Azriel said going straight to the point. I looked up from putting jam on my toast, my eyes trailing to the sounds of the child’s laughter and Cassians' praise.
“What about Hawthorne?”
Azriel sighed, already knowing I wasn’t going to let this go without a fight. Either with him or our High Lord. “Rhys is going to leave that up to you. His recommendation thought was to find someplace around Velaris so he wouldn’t be in a camp where issues may arise in the future. When he’s older.”
I looked sharply up at what he said. “What is that supposed to mean?” I made sure to keep my voice somewhat low so as to not raise attention to us.
“We both know what he means. He’s just trying to cover future bases because he has Nyx now.” Azriel tried to calm down, resting a hand on top of mine. I pulled it back from him immediately.
“No Azriel I don’t know what you mean. He’s a child what are you two trying to say?” I was angry. He’s five, if that. What was there to possibly worry about to ‘keep an eye on him in the future.’
Azriel said your name then continued, “His father was plotting to get a group of people to kill Rhys. Maybe worse.” Azriel almost seemed angry at the position I had taken, in defending this threat against his High Lord. But the threat was a child.
I glared at Azriel and all but snarled when I said, “Sons are NOT their fathers Azriel. You of all people should know that.” I even pointed in his direction for emphasis on my statement, his hazel eyes going wide in surprise at it. Shock and hurt flowed down the bond, and I pushed my feelings of anger towards him.
Turning I leave my breakfast to go join Cassian and the deemed threat in the other room to watch him stretch his wings.
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It was later in the evening, after playing with the child and having Cassian take us down to the shopping district so he could have more clothes that I had finally let myself think about the argument from earlier in the day. I had already put Hawthorne to bed almost two hours ago and was down in the kitchen sipping wine. Setting the glass down on the counter I ran my hands down my face in frustration, and then came some shuffling.
Turning my head, I expected Azriel but found Hawthorne. Bleary-eyed from what little sleep he got. “Hey, what are you doing back up, it’s late.”
The little dark-haired child rubbed his eyes, his other hand gripping a little black cat stuffed animal he begged to have. “I have trouble sleeping in the bed. It’s super soft.” His eyebrows furrowed together and then he said, “The shadows also keep me awake by playing with my hair.”
A few of Azriel’s shadows had taken a little liking to the boy, much unlike their master, it seemed. “Well. Since you’re awake, want some hot chocolate?” I asked, the boy seemed confused at my words and asked what hot chocolate was. “Hot cocoa?” He shook his head in confusion again.
“Come on, I’ll make us some cups and you can try it,” I said lifting him up to sit on the counter and wiped my finger at some of the dried drool on his cheek.
Turning to a cabinet, I grabbed two mugs to set beside him and continued to pull supplies out to make the cocoa. Hawthorne watched every move I made, measuring out the ingredients, putting them into a pot to warm up, and even helping stir every now and then. Once it was done, I moved it over to the side to allow it to cool a bit more before putting the drink into the mugs.
“Now here’s the fun part. I like to add some extra things to mine.”
Hawthorne seemed interested in whatever it was I was going to add.
“I like to take this white stuff, called whipped cream, and put it on top, then add this stuff here called cinnamon. Do you wanna try mine and see if you like it for yours?” I asked, Hawthorne seemed to think deeply about it, furrowed eyebrows, and all then eagerly nodded his head. I carefully handed him my cup and he took a little sip, whip cream getting on his upper lip and nose, then made a loud ‘ahh’ sound after gulping it down.
“I’d like some please!” The boy eagerly handed my mug back and watched me add it to his smaller mug.
We sat side by side sipping at our drinks, Hawthorne’s eyes drooping more and more as he drank before he set his almost empty mug on the counter and yawned.
“Ready to go back to bed?” He seemed a little hesitant and then said something that broke my heart.
“I don’t wanna sleep by myself, I’m scared someone’s going to come and get me.” He didn’t want to make eye contact.
I looked at him a little inquisitively, “Why do you think someone’s coming to get you?”
“Well, I really liked being with Daddy, even if I didn’t get much food. And then you guys came and took my daddy and me, because daddy was being bad. But you have been really nice, and Cassin has been helping me fly, and even though Azzie don’t like me he still lets me play with his shadows, and you guys have food and it’s warm-“ I stopped him before he could continue working himself up.
“Hawthorne, you don’t have to go back to the camp if you don’t want to. You know that right?” I said rubbing his hand in a comforting way.
He seemed sheepish as he nodded then asked, “I would get to stay here with you? And Cassin and Azzie?”
I sighed trying to think of an answer, “I don’t know if you’d get to stay with us. You could go to another place that would love you very much.”
Hawthorne didn’t like that answer. Tears forming in his little hazel eyes, lips wobbling, and I knew I needed to backtrack.
“Hey, how about this buddy?” He sniffed and ran a hand over his eye, “How about we pause this conversation, and me and you go sleep? Then we can talk when I get some answers.” Answers only the Inner Circle could answer.
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It took Hawthorne only 20 minutes to fall back to sleep in his room and me another hour lying beside Azriel. It was early morning when I awoke to Azriel getting up himself.
“Think you could call a meeting about little bits?” I asked rubbing my hands down my face.
Azriel sighed and sat back in the bed beside me. “You shouldn’t get attached to him; you know that. And it’s not that I think that he’s going to become his father or that I hate him. I heard you guys’ last night, and what you both talked about.” He sat there for a second licking his lips as I cringed knowing he heard us, “I do like him. He’s a sweet kid, and I’m glad he’s had a better life than most Illyrians-”
I stopped him, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I know you’re not your father and I should’ve never. Ever. Compared you to him.”
“I know. You were angry and believed you had to defend him. I’m proud of you for that. But if you really want to discuss what happens with him, then I think we should talk.” Azriel said, grabbing my hand and holding it as he laid back across my stomach.
I nodded, and we started talking. About all outcomes for Hawthorne. What would happen to him, how he’d be raised, all of it. Then we went to the River House. And I joined the Inner Circle as we talked about him. Rhysand’s concerns, Amren’s and Mor’s surprise, Feyre’s support in what would happen, and how it would all be dealt with.
At the end we had an answer.
It was later in the day that I asked Hawthorne if he wanted to go walk around town with Azriel. I was slowly walking behind as Azriel walked somewhat awkwardly with the boy, talking with him as Hawthorne was eagerly pointing around at different shops.
Hawthorne’s eyes widened and grabbed Azriels’ hand, the older Illyrian tensing up at the innocent little child grabbing his scarred hands and dragged him over to a bakery to press his face into the window and stare at the sweets.
“Can we go in there?” Hawthorne asked eagerly looking between Azriel and me. Azriel looked to me for some guidance, letting me control the situation. Nodding my head, Azriel led the three of us into the bakery and let the boy pick what he wanted and got me my favorite treat too.
I led Hawthorne back outside so we could eat, take in the sights, and talk to Hawthorne like we needed to.
“Hey Hawthrone, remember the conversation from last night? Can me and Azriel talk to you about it?” Hawthrone seemed more downtrodden at the reminder of last night but nodded his head.
“Hawthorne, I got to visit your dad before we left, and I just wanted you to know that he isn’t going to be able to come home. And because of that, we need to find you a good home.” Azriel started out, not telling the boy his father wasn’t going to come home. Rhys did have to make an example and couldn’t just pardon him because he had a son.
“Azriel and I have been talking with some people, and we’re wondering what you want to do,” I said, handing the boy a napkin to clean his face as he ate. He glanced between Azriel and me, then down at the table.
“Where would I go if Daddy can’t take me?” he asked shyly.
“Well, we could find you a loving home here, in the city. Where you would be cared for and get to learn all kinds of things with kids your age and everything. Another choice is we find you a home back at your camp, somewhere that’d be able to care for you, and you’d get to be with other Illyrians your age.” Hawthorne seemed to think the two options over. Then Azriel looked at me and I nodded.
“Or” Azriel started, “You could stay with us, and we could raise you. Then you’d stay with Cassian and us, get to meet the High Lord and Lady, and all our friends, while going to school here in Velaris. And in a few years, we’d take you to a camp called Windhaven and you’d train to be a warrior.” Hawthorne’s eyes got wider and wider as Azriel continued, looking back and forth between us two, his grin starting to match mine.
“So. Which would yo-“ Azriel didn’t finish as the tiny Illyrian lunged over the table into both of us.
“YOU I WANNA STAY WITH YOU!” Hawthorne yelled excitedly, gripping the both of us as I laughed.
Azriel looked at me, love flowing down the bond and him receiving the same back from me at the new addition to the family.
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vgilantee · 1 year
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dorm room antics {ethan landry}
ethan landry x fem!reader
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requested: n/a
words: 2k
a/n: surprise! turns out when my brain decides to work, i can write a 2k word fic in three hours. which means you guys get a march fic! this fic is part of what i like to call ��char’s ethan fic universe” in which i haven’t written any other fics, but it’s all apart of the long ask i sent julie (this one here) so i will mention a couple things here that reference it. Also on referencing things, i was tempted make a star wars reference in here, but julie doesn’t need more reasons to point and laugh at me and call me a star wars nerd (julie would never point and laugh at me, i love her). This is not a smut but things get a little steamy. There may be an alternate version that starts the same but is nsfw (oh my god finding a gif for this fic was too hard and this isn't even the one i wanted, but tumblr hates me)
warnings: steamy!, if you were reading fanfics in the 2000s/early 2010s this would count as an orange
pronouns: none used
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You had everyone’s timetables memorised, all of you did. It was one of the first things the four of you did at the start of each semester; you sat down and learned each timetable so you always knew where each other was throughout the day. It was how you knew that Chad would be out of his dorm. 
You knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Ethan didn’t know you were coming over, you wanted to surprise him with your company on his day free of classes. After your first and only class of the day, you would usually be with Mindy in the library or Tara in one of her lectures. But Mindy had ditched you to spend time with Anika, and Tara was in bed with the flu. Not that you needed the excuses to spend time with Ethan, but Mindy didn’t entirely trust him, so the excuses were required to satiate her. 
The sounds of moving around came through the door, and you heard Ethan muttering that he was coming. 
“Oh, hey.” Ethan’s curls bounced a little as his head tilted in surprise. He gave you a dopey smile and stepped to the side, letting you move past him and into the room. You had been in the dorm a few times, but you still couldn’t help turning in a slow circle to look around. On his bed was a textbook and notebook, as well as various pens scattered on the sheets. 
“Sorry, did I interrupt your studying?” You turned back to face him, lazily pointing at the study supplies on his navy sheets. Ethan blinked, almost as if he forgot the stationery was even there, before shaking his head. As he did, you noticed just how long his curls have gotten, falling into his eyes more than usual.
“No. I mean yeah but-” He bit his lower lip gently. “You’re always welcome to interrupt my study.” Ethan’s mouth quirked in a shy smile, trying to hide how he cringed at what he said. 
You took a step toward him and reached your hands up to his shoulders, lazily looping them around the back of his neck. Almost immediately, Ethan’s hands moved around your waist and pulled you flush against him. 
“Are you sure? I can leave you to your…” you glanced over at his bed to try and decipher what subject he was studying, “I have no idea what that is but I’m sure it’s important.” You felt the breath of Ethan’s laugh against your hair. 
“It’s programming and yeah, I’m sure.” You turned back to him, making quick glances down at his mouth that was so close. “Don’t leave.” Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper, embarrassed but pleading, and you stopped fighting the voice in your head and leaned up to finally kiss him. 
It quickly deepened, one of your hands moving to his face and the other weaving into his hair. Ethan’s fingers dug into your waist, pulling you even closer to him, so close that one of his feet ended up between yours.
When you pulled back to take a breath, you kept your eyes closed, foreheads rested together. 
“Bed?” You felt his hands tighten slightly as your breath hit his mouth. You and Ethan had slept together before, but only a handful of times, and every time Ethan started out quietly excited, and shy. 
Ethan let out a single hum before dropping his hands to the backs of your thighs, encouraging you to jump lightly and wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as he was sure you’re safely held up, he took the five steps from the door to his bed. You expected him to place you on the bed, but instead he turned and sat down, sitting you on his lap. As soon as you’re comfortable (which took a fraction of a second) you pulled him forward by the back of his neck, reigniting the kiss more desperately. You left one hand weaved into his curls, but the other dropped to grip his bicep. 
His hands slide up from your thighs, pausing briefly on your ass to give the muscles a gentle squeeze. You rolled your hips gently forward in response to the squeeze, and you felt the light vibration of his hum against your mouth. Ethan moved his hands up a little further, encouraging your movement, and you gently bit his bottom lip. Ethan opened his mouth and the kiss quickly became messier, tongues rolling against each other and teeth occasionally bumping. 
As you moved to pull away, you pulled Ethan’s tongue into your mouth and sucked on it gently pulling a moan from deep in his throat. You opened your eyes, seeing him with his cheeks flushed red and his eyes still closed, his mouth opened slightly. 
You could never get over how pretty he was, especially when so flushed. And you always felt a swell of pride because you were the one able to get him like that and the only one who got to see the sight underneath you. 
Ethan slowly opened his eyes, pupils blown. He slowly raised a hand, pushing some of the hair that had fallen out of its place in your ponytail behind your ear before quickly leaning down and gently bit and kissed at your neck. Your head rolled to the side, desperately exposing more skin for him to give attention to. His tongue rolling over his teeth marks elicited gasps from you, your fingers lightly tugging at his hair in a silent plead for more. 
A soft moan broke from your throat as Ethan bit down, slightly harder, and sucked, determined to leave a deep mark. You pulled harder at his curls in retaliation and rolled your hips against him. Ethan dragged his tongue across the mark, continuing to move it up your neck and along your jaw until his mouth meets yours again for a short kiss. 
“You sure?” Regardless of how many times you made it clear to Ethan that you wanted him, he always asked, checked to make sure that you hadn’t changed your mind. You rolled your hips again in a silent reply.
“Completely.” Ethan let out a whimper before pulling your hips down, letting you feel his need for you under your core. You let out a choked sound before pulling Ethan into a rough kiss that left him gasping. 
For every roll of your hips, Ethan responded with a sound against your mouth, though it didn’t take long for him to begin retaliating instead with soft thrusts upward. Your head fell back with a breathy moan, and Ethan quickly began pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat, humming every time he felt you make sounds. 
“Ethan.” You whispered out his name and his hips twitched forward, further into you than his teasing rolls. Using the hand in his hair, you pulled his face back to you, and your other hand slid down his chest before slipping under the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips grazed across his abs, and you smiled against his mouth as stomach flinched from your touch. Your hand continued to move up to his chest, dragging his shirt with him, until you pulled away, silently begging for him to take off his shirt.
Ethan dragged his hands from your waist, across your thighs, prolonging taking his hands away from you, but finally he did, following your quiet ask and took off his shirt. You raked your fingernails down his chest to his stomach pulling a whimper from Ethan, before your hands quickly moved to loop around the back of his neck, moving to kiss him as his warm hands met your skin again, one hand snaking under your shirt to rest on the bare small of your back, and the other resting softly on your cheek.
You gently let out a moan as Ethan bit down on your bottom lip, your nails digging softly into the skin on the nape of his neck.
“Oh, fuck!” Chad’s sudden voice caused you to jolt. You hadn’t even heard the door open, you were so engrossed in the feeling of Ethan. Ethan quickly pulled away from you, and you tried not to follow after his suddenly-missing mouth. “Ew, that is so not what I wanted to see in my dorm.” You rolled your eyes, flipping Chad off over your shoulder. 
You tried to fight the soft smile as Ethan pressed his face into the side of your neck, wanting so desperately to hide from his roommate. His soft curls brushed against your skin, raising goosebumps. 
Turning to follow the movement of your arm, you glared at Chad, who had a hand over his eyes while dramatically using the other to feel around for his side of the room. 
“Oh fuck off, Chad.” You said with a slightly amused laugh. Ethan sighed into your neck and the sudden breath made you realise that you were gently stroking his hair. Your fond smile won against your fighting as Ethan hid. 
“This is my room!” Chad threw his hand up, keeping the one already over his eyes pressed firmly in place. “Now, are you done dry humping each other so I can grab my shit?” You reached for the bed beside where Ethan was sitting and grabbed one of his pens, throwing it at Chad but missing. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Slowly, ever the drama queen, Chad peels his hand from his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sound of relief.
“I can’t believe you almost defiled my poor, virgin eyes.” He pressed a hand to his heart while walking toward his desk to grab his forgotten textbook. “Corrupting my innocent soul with your filth.” You threw another pen at him, this one hitting him square in the head. 
“Innocent, my ass.” Chad let out an indignant gasp. “Don’t you,” you mocked the sound he made, “me, fucker. I’ve walked in on you doing worse.” He gasped again. 
“I would never!” His voice was weighed down with sarcasm and he pressed his textbook to his chest. Chad tsked at you before walked back to the door. “Don’t get cum stains on my bed, assholes.” Ethan let out an embarrassed groan against you skin, and you flipped Chad off again.
“I’m going to move to your bed just to spite you.” Chad scrunched his nose in disgust and Ethan pulled back from your neck to stare at you in shock, praying you weren’t serious.
“You’re fucking disgusting.” Chad, ever the dramatic, pulled the door shut, ensuring that he got the final word. When you looked back to Ethan, he was still looking at you, eyes wide in horror. You winked at him with a smile. 
“You wouldn’t..?” You snorted out a laugh and your head fell back, shaking your head. 
“Fuck no.” You ran the backs of your fingers across his cheek softly, revelling in the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Ethan sighed, leaning into your fingers. “He would be so lucky.” His mouth dropped open again and you leaned forward to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Ethan let out a contented hum, and the soft sound caused your hips to grind against him on their own. Once again, Ethan’s fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your waist.
“Did he ruin the mood?” Your voice was shy, unsure whether his bruising fingers was a warning to stop, or him trying to hold back. 
“No. Not for me.” Ethan leaned forward as he spoke, saying the words against your shoulder before pressing a light kiss to your skin, rolling his hips up lightly against you to pull a sigh from you while your head rolled back. “Not when you look like that on my lap.” Neither you nor Ethan knew where his confidence came from, but you quickly pushed your questioning aside as he pulled your core down against the tightness in his trousers and bit down on your shoulder softly. 
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moot tagging: @websterss
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Swipe (Lucifer Morningstar x reader) Preview
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This is a preview of my WIP fanfic for Lucifer, it’s a three parter and this is a small about of part 1, since it’s still a WIP it’s not yet proof read :) Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)
Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so- 
Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6 
I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-
 Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying
⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
Lucifer’s POV
“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.
Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“ 
“Charlie!” 
We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 
I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.
Lucifer..
Luci…
Luc…
Luca..
Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.
Y/N POV
Left..Left..Left..
God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N  advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…
…Right. 
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acriminalmind · 6 months
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Songs From the Wood
Forest Dweller Wanda Maximoff x GN Reader
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Summary: For years tourists who enter the mysterious woods around the town you grew up in are never to be seen again. What happened to them remains a mystery. 
After years you return to the place you rather forget if it wasn’t for your parents still living there. 
A party thrown by your former classmates ends up with you fighting for your life and getting a new one you can’t return from. 
Warnings: ⚠️ 18+, minors DNI, dark themes, shitty and immature people, consequences of alcohol, spiked drink, use of weapons like knives, swords, and axes, very graphic images (blood, horrible injuries, torture, violent and gruesome deaths), use of strong language, allusions to cannibalism, kidnapping (taking someone without their permission), manipulation (kinda gaslighting), Stockholm Syndrome (rational thinking has gone out the window), smut (later in the story) (mention of penetration, but not specified with what), human sacrifices, loyalty tests, marriage, fluff, angst, some deja vu moments, slighty dark Wanda at times. 
Please don’t report. You’ve been warned
AN: Sorry for the long wait. My new job takes me a lot of time and energy. I hope to find time to write during my vacations and weekends. I’m not out of ideas yet. 
AN: In this story, Wanda is the 20-year-old sister of Pietro, who is a 10-year-old boy.
Word count: 14213 (Damn)
Enjoy! And let me know what you think. 
On a warm summer evening, you received an invitation to a party organized by some former high school classmates. Initially, you had not planned on going because your high school days were not the most fun period in your life and you certainly would not be mourning never having to see your former classmates, who pretended you were invisible most of the time and only talked to you when they needed something from you, ever again. You had left the village where you had grown up shortly after the last day of high school. A university on the other side of the country had offered you a scholarship, which of course you had accepted. Five years later, you had graduated with flying colors and had been offered a well-paying job at the company where you had been an intern for the last two years of your education. 
Despite having no reason or desire to go to a party so far from what you now considered home you still replied that you would attend. Your parents still live in that village and you hadn't visited them in too long, so you would visit them before you went to the party. You opened your digital calendar and put in the date of the party. Fortunately, you had just gotten a raise so the plane ticket was easily paid for. You had even granted yourself a seat in first class.
Turning off your phone you put it face down on your desk and refocused on what you were doing, writing a smutty fanfic about your favorite female heroine.
"She dropped to her knees and took their hard member in her hands. In her small hands, their cock seemed even bigger than it already was. Opening her mouth she leaned forward and took..."
-
Two weeks had passed and you were about to leave for the airport. A suitcase and backpack stood neatly packed next to you on the pavement as you locked your front door. You had asked your neighbor to watch your house during the time you were gone, which would not be more than 3 days if everything went right. The cab you had ordered pulled up into the driveway. After the driver had helped you with your luggage the both of you took your seats and drove off. The ride took no longer than half an hour due to the lack of traffic. After you paid the driver and tipped, you walked into the large building in front of you. The check-in went as it always did. You were happy to finally get on the plane and be seated. Next to you sat an older man who had fallen asleep not soon after takeoff. After it was announced that passengers could unbuckle their seat belts you grabbed your laptop from your bag and started working on an assignment for work. The hours flew by, no pun intended.
-
Once off the plane you stretched and walked to the waiting area where your parents were already waiting for you with welcoming smiles on their faces. You gave them both a big hug before your father grabbed your stuff from you and started walking with them to the car even though you told him he didn't have to do that for you and that you could do it yourself, but he was stubborn and ignored you. Your mother talked to you during the car ride about what was happening in the village. Pretty little happened in the small community where almost everyone knew each other. Except for one thing. Over the past few years, several people went missing in the woods surrounding the village and were never found. Those who went missing were mostly tourists who had probably wandered off the marked hiking trails, but it was still strange and slightly worrisome. It also wasn’t good for business as word about the woods spread fast and as a consequence, the village was being avoided by many tourists who would normally fill up the streets and spend a good amount of money in the local shops. Quite an amount of shops had to close their doors due to a lack of customers and lack of income. The shopping district was now filled with lots of empty buildings holding a gloomy atmosphere.
Your mother mentioned that someone had been reported missing again, but it was a villager this time. She mentioned the name and you recognized it immediately. It was the name of a former classmate of yours from high school. Apparently, someone had dared him to go into the woods and go off the path to see if the stories were true and that there was indeed a monster in the woods that kidnaps and eats anyone who goes off the path. It was funny until he hadn't returned after an hour and he didn't answer his cell phone either. Authorities were called in to search, but all they found was a large pool of blood with his phone lying in it. To this day, he has not been found adding another name to the growing list of missing people who fell victim to the woods.
The date of his disappearance was a week before you got the invitation to the party. You thought it was odd that they were throwing a party right now when a fellow villager was missing, but your mother said they were already planning the party before the man went missing and his parents insisted that the party should just be held as planned.
-
When you arrived at your parent’s house, you made sure to get your luggage out of the car before your father could. You followed your mother to the front door which she unlocked to let you in. Everything looked exactly the same as the last time you visited your parents. The house was spacious but still gave off a cozy feeling. Several pictures of you and your parents hung on the walls. It was like a timeline of your life. It puts a small smile on your face. Your mother told you to take your things to the guest room, which was your old bedroom, while she would prepare dinner. As confirmation that you had heard her, you nodded to her before walking upstairs. The second room on the right side of the hall was yours. It had its own mini bathroom and walk-in closet. You put your things in the corner of the room and plopped down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while.
-
Stepping out of your father's car you had borrowed to drive to the party you could already hear the loud music and people singing along from the parking lot. The party was fully going. Calmly you walked toward the entrance, breathing in the fresh air one last time before entering the smelly and crowded space. You made your way towards the bar where you ordered a diet coke, not wanting to get too drunk this early in the evening, especially while being surrounded by people you hadn't seen for years and wouldn’t fully trust with your well-being if you were drunk. 
Looking around you, you took in the different faces of the people dancing on the dancefloor. You recognized most of them, they were just a bit more mature since you last saw them, but looking more mature didn't stop them from acting immature as you saw a group of men, who were part of the football team back in the day, act like monkeys on speed. Rolling your eyes at the sight you moved your eyesight to a couple of young women standing in the corner giggling about something. The blonde woman standing in the middle of the group took your breath away. It was your secret school crush and she looked even more beautiful than you remembered. The ring on her finger stopped you from approaching, not that you knew what you would have said to her if you would have. You didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you had already done in school. 
For a while, you sat in silence sipping on your drink at the bar, watching the people around you like you also did as a teenager when you sat alone at lunch. When you were done with the one coke you had ordered that night you headed towards the exit, wanting to call it a night, but on your way, you were pulled onto the dancefloor by an unknown woman who started to dance around you. "Danzz with meeee!" she yelled barely hearable due to the loud music. Her slurred words and strong smell told you that she was highly intoxicated, but like the decent person you are you started awkwardly dancing with her. You didn't want anyone with bad intentions to get their hands on her as long as she was under the influence of alcohol and could be easily manipulated into doing regrettable things. After what felt like an hour of dancing with the woman you felt yourself getting tired. The woman had in the meantime sobered up a little and had found the people she came with. She gave you a quick peck on your cheek and thanked you for keeping her company after apologizing for bothering you in her drunken state. The action made you blush. This didn't go unnoticed as a small group of people made their way to you while cheering at you and making kissing sounds. One of the broad men threw his arm over your shoulder while ruffling your hair with his free hand. "Look at our favorite nerd getting some action!" Laughter filled your ears. One of the others yelled that it was probably the furthest you've ever gotten with a girl. The people now surrounding you were all people who had made your life in school unnecessarily difficult and less enjoyable. You awkwardly laughed at the stupid jokes that were being made about you in the hope that soon they would get bored of themselves and would leave you alone so you could leave this place as fast as you could to never see anyone of them again.
-
Half an hour later you were still at the party you had badly wanted to leave a while ago, but the strong arm on your shoulder and your shyness preventing you from speaking up had made you stay where you were. One of the women pushed a drink into your hand after you had declined the offer, guess no isn't an answer she takes. The jokes about you had stopped and the topic of conversation had changed to the missing people cases that held a tight grip on the local community. One of the women, who you remembered to be the daughter of the sheriff told about what she had heard from a whispered conversation between her father and the mayor that she had eavesdropped on four days ago. Apparently, investigators had found evidence that points to a new-found theory of mystery people inhabiting the woods. Silently sipping on your drink you listened to the woman and all the things she had heard. Even though the whole matter wasn't of interest to you, the thought of possibly dangerous people living in the woods close to your parent's house, made you more than uncomfortable. The thought of convincing your parents to temporarily live with you while searching for a new place for them far away from where they lived now crossed your mind. You were pulled out of your thoughts by someone patting your shoulder to get your attention. "Come on, let's see for ourselves," you heard someone say. You wanted to pull yourself away from the group who were now walking you to the back exit leading to the mysterious woods, but you failed. It felt like you had lost control over your body. Looking down at the empty red cup in your hand you cursed to yourself. You hadn't even noticed you had drunk the whole thing. The girl who gave it to you held your hand, pulling you with her toward the edge where the trees met the main road. You wanted to say no, but no sound came out of your mouth. Before you could register it you had been pulled into the darkness, the only sound you could hear was the drunken laughter of the people around you and the breaking of the twigs underneath your stumbling feet. While you were pulled further into the woods, even getting off the designated hiking trails, multiple pairs of eyes were watching your every move from behind the trees waiting to strike. 
At hearing a weird sound behind you you turned your head to see where it came from. You could have sworn you saw a silhouette standing next to one of the many trees surrounding you, but before you could get a closer look the girl still holding your hand pulled your attention to her. She pulled you into a deep and unwanted kiss. After she had ended the kiss she complimented you for how good of a kisser you were, saying she hadn't expected that from you. Before you could react to her insulting expectation she had passed out on the floor from the combination of alcohol, drugs, and tiredness with you following her not close behind.
The woods became now completely silent.
-
You woke up when the first rays of the sun showed through the trees. Your head was pounding as a result of last night's activities. Looking around you noticed that you were the only one there. There was no sign of anybody else. Those fuckers had abandoned you in the middle of god knows where. Curse words left your mouth as you tried to stand up from the cold ground while having to deal with a major hangover. Once on your feet, you took another look around hoping to spot an indication as to where in the woods you were exactly, but as far as you could see you only saw trees and bushes. Looking at the place of the sun in the greyish-colored sky you decided to head east where the sun had come up some time ago. It was cold and damp and the thin shirt you had on did nothing to keep you warm. Hugging yourself you tried to keep the little body warmth you had left with you. Every time you exhaled a cloud of fog left your mouth. Without you realizing it you had started to chatter your teeth.
After what felt like hours of walking you collapsed to the ground. Your feet were dying beneath you as you weren't used to walking for so long and underneath these conditions. Leaning against a huge tree you tried to catch your breath and talk yourself into getting up again and continuing walking. You didn't even know whether you were going in the right direction, but you couldn't just stay in one place with these cold temperatures and not knowing whether someone was looking for you. Just now you realized how far you were dragged into the woods. The night before it had felt like just a few meters. 
When you had found the strength you needed to get back up you took a deep breath and continued your journey toward your hopeful escape from the dense woods and to not be another name on the missing persons list who fell victim to it. 
Every step you set hurts. It felt like your feet were about to fall off any second now. The frightening thought of never being able to see your parents again and leaving them in uncertainty about your well-being made you pull through.
To distract yourself from the pain you were in and keep up the spirit you started silently singing one of your favorite songs.
"Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you ..."
-
As you started to sing the song you were singing for the past half an hour for the ninth time you were disrupted by a high-pitched scream coming not far away from you. Holding your breath while standing deadly still, you looked around searching for the source of the scream while wondering if it came from someone who needed your help and in exchange could help you or if it came from someone who you should run from. Out of nowhere one of the guys who were with you last night came storming out of the bushes on the right of you while screaming for his life. He was covered in blood and you were sure that you saw the bone of his right arm sticking out.
You stared wide-eyed at the panicked man en wondered what had happened to him to put him in a state like he was. Another noise coming from the bushes grabbed your attention. As fast as you could you dove behind a tree to hide from whatever was gonna come out of it. Carefully you peeked your head around the edge to see what was gonna happen next. Not even five seconds after you had taken your hiding spot behind the tree two big figures with deer fur as clothes and animal skulls covering their faces appeared from the bushes. They both had a handmade axe in their hand which was dripping with blood. One of them let out some sort of battle cry before the both of them sprinted behind the wounded man. You watched fearfully as they rapidly reduced the distance between themselves and their prey. One of the figures threw his axe toward the man which ended up drilled in between his shoulder blades and throwing him face first on the ground. He let out cries of pain while trying to crawl away, but his suffering came to an abrupt end when the other figure who still had his axe harshly brought it down into his skull splitting it open and ending his life. Blood and brain tissue was splattered around the lifeless body. You slapped your hand over your mouth to prevent any sound from coming out and ducked back behind the wood. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't do that because they would hear you. You wanted to run, but you couldn't do that because they would come after you and do god knows what to you.
Never in your life had you felt this kind of fear.
You sat quiet and motionless behind the tree in the hope the two figures wouldn't see or hear you and would soon walk away so you could make a run for it. The only thing you could hear was the sound of flesh being cut. It was horrific and made your stomach turn.
When you thought it couldn't get any worse a man and a woman who you recognized as people from the group you were with last night appeared to the left of you, both of them also covered in blood. The man held a little silver-haired boy who looked to be around the age of 10 in his arms while keeping a dull knife to his throat. While the two hadn't noticed your presence, the boy did and he looked you right in the eyes with his tear-filled ones. His small body was trembling in fear. You noticed that just like the two large creatures he was wearing deer fur. He is probably part of the same group as them. He sniffled as a lonely tear dripped down his cheek. Suddenly the man who held the boy hostage started to scream at the two people to not move or else he would kill the kid. Your eyes widened at hearing that threat. The knife was pushed closer against his skin, now drawing blood. Cries of pain and fear left his mouth. The devastating sound pulled on your heartstrings. You wanted to help the boy. You couldn't leave him to his own devices even if the chances of you getting hurt in the process of saving him were high. The girl wasn't an obstacle as she was standing on the other side of the man watching it all go down with fear in her eyes. When the two people started to scream back in some unknown language the man pulled his knife away from the boy's neck, pointing it in front of him in defense. This was your chance. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down a little you got into a running position before sprinting from behind your hiding place toward the boy. 
A red-headed woman was watching it all unfold from behind a tree. No one had noticed her presence yet and she wished it to stay that way.
It felt like everything went into slow motion the moment you had a grip on his arm. Your unexpected appearance surprised the man holding him captive, resulting in him losing the tight grip he had on the boy. This gave you the chance to pull him away and motion for him to make a run for it. He looked at you with a grateful look before running off as fast as he could on his short legs. As you watched him run with a satisfied smile on your face you felt a sharp pain pierce through your skin. Looking at your waist you saw a knife being pulled out of it. The same knife that was against the boy's neck just a minute ago. Blood started to sipe through your shirt. While grabbing at the wound you looked with a panicked look behind you, locking eyes on the man who just brutally stabbed you. He looked down at the in your blood-covered knife in his trembling hand and then looked back at you. His eyes held a gaze of confusion but it soon turned into anger. “You fucking asshole,” he whispered angrily. As you fell to the ground you could hear the young boy scream in anguish. Your eyes became heavy as more blood started to gush out of your body. As you stared up into the sky waiting for the inevitable the man and woman who had captured the boy were being slaughtered at your feet by the forest people. Their screams didn't reach your ears as they could only focus on the slow beats of your own heart. Before your eyes closed you were met with a pair of beautiful emerald-colored eyes that held a soft gaze in them as they looked down at you. 
-
Every morning before sunrise Wanda would take a walk through the woods surrounding her home. On bare feet, she wandered through the area she had come to know like the back of her hand. Her hands gracefully moved through the high grass, like birds in the sky. She would close her eyes to take in the sounds of nature better. It was like the woods sang a song just for her. It brought a smile to her face.
When she arrived at the heart of the woods she was met with a sight she hadn't seen before. A group of strangers lay sleeping on the ground. She remembered her father's warning words about strangers and that she was not to be near them by herself, but curiosity got the best of her, so she hid behind a tree at a safe distance from the group and observed the scene with curious eyes. 
Before the sun started to come up all but one started to stir awake. Instead of waking them up, they whispered something to each other before running off laughing, but what they didn't know was that they were heading to a place where strangers from the outside world weren't wanted and would probably be their demise.
When the group had left her sight she averted it back to the lone stranger who was still sleeping peacefully. She wanted to take a closer look, but she stopped herself from doing so instead she stayed safely hidden behind the big tree and kept watching the stranger making sure nothing bad happened to them. Wanda always had a caring nature, always wanting to make sure the people in her community were okay. However, the person laying on the ground wasn't someone from her community. She didn’t know them. They were a stranger. Someone her father warned her about numerous times, telling her they were bad people who destroyed good things for selfish reasons and had no respect for nature, something that is very important for her people. She had seen the damage these strangers left behind with her own eyes. Still, she didn't want to leave this one all alone. She always tended to see the good in people and the person who was left behind hadn't given her any reason yet to think otherwise, unlike the people who had left them behind showing the rotten side of humanity. 
As the sun started to appear from behind the trees she saw that the person started to stir awake. She watched every move they made. From them looking with utter confusion around them after waking up all alone in the middle of the woods, to them standing up while muttering unfamiliar words. As Wanda took in their appearance now that she was able to see them better from where she was standing she felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach. They were good-looking. The clothes they were wearing were strange though. Not practical for a life in the woods at all. She couldn't admire them long though as the stranger started to make their departure.
When the stranger had left she decided to head back home herself before her father would start worrying about her and sent out a search team. She also didn't want to make her little brother wait as she had agreed to spend some time with him. The last time she had made him wait he decided to go look for her all by himself in the big and treacherous forest, ending up with a gash on his knee from falling down a rocky path. And with these strangers wandering around she didn't want him to leave home by himself. Who knows what they would do to him if they got their hands on him? The single thought of something happening to him frightened her. She would never forgive herself. 
-
Wanda held her little brother tight against her body, afraid that if she let go something bad would happen to him. Tears streamed down her face, dripping on top of Pietro's little head. She had watched the whole scene go down, from the moment those two evil outsiders grabbed her brother, who was innocently wandering around the woods while picking flowers, till the moment that the lone stranger she had been watching that morning saved him and as a result got stabbed themselves.
She felt Pietro calm down in her arms, which made her calm down a little too. He is alive and safe in her arms. She looked up and saw how her brother's captors were slaughtered by two of her father's hunting men. They screamed in agony as their bodies were mutilated until their lives had left their bodies. She had watched with zero remorse. Her sight was soon pulled to the lone stranger's motionless body that lay in a small pool of their blood. The person that saved her little brother from their people. She felt warm and grateful. When the hunters moved away from the two piles of flesh and made their way toward the unconscious stranger with their axes in their hands, ready to butcher them too, Wanda abruptly ordered them to a halt. As the daughter of their leader, she had some kind of power. They halted their movements, lowered their weapons, and looked at her through their masks, waiting for their next orders. Wanda looked down at her brother who was now looking up at her with his big friendly eyes which both still held some unshed tears, then returned her sight back to the lone stranger. She thought it over for a second before looking up at the hunters and saying in their language, "Strangers from outside the woods are not welcome in our home because of their evil natures and disrespectful behavior towards our woods, but I believe this one is different. I witnessed early this morning how the people who were with them mercilessly abandoned them in the middle of these dangerous woods. We just saw how they saved Pietro, son of Django Maximoff our celebrated leader, and my father, from their own kind and in return got stabbed. They need help, which our healers can give. We owe that to them." The two hunters grumbled something while shaking their heads. "Don't worry about my father. This is my decision. All consequences are on me. I give you my word." The two hunters looked at each other before nodding at Wanda. One of them ripped off a piece of their fur clothing and used it to tie off your open wound before he carefully pulled you off the cold ground and started walking in the direction of their home, followed directly by the other hunter, Wanda, and Pietro. 
-
Upon their arrival at the gates of the hidden village, one of the gatekeepers blew on a horn to announce their return before letting them in. They were greeted by Django, his wife Marya, his right-hand man Erik and a handful of guards. Pietro ran like a speedster to his mother who brought him in a loving hug. Wanda made her way over to her father who was already waiting for her with open arms. She almost forgot about what happened just a while ago until she hears her father say, "Who's the stranger you brought with you?" Wanda pulled away from the hug to look her father in the eyes before she would answer him. "You know how I think about outsiders, Wanda. What is one of them doing in our home?" Wanda took a deep breath before she calmly tried to explain the situation to her father and those around them who were also listening. "This morning when I was on my morning walk and arrived at the open spot in the middle of our woods I walked upon a group of them sleeping on the ground." She noticed her father's eyes widen and mouth open ready to tell her once again that she isn't allowed to come near outsiders alone, but before he could Wanda continued, "Don't worry, Dad. I stayed at a safe distance and blended in with nature so they wouldn't notice me. Like you taught me as a kid." Her dad smiled a little at the memories of him and his daughter spending time in the woods while he taught her the ways of nature and how to take good care of it. "I watched them for a while until all of the group but one woke up. They then left, leaving the one still asleep all alone in the middle of the woods. Sometime later they woke up looking confused, scared, and angry. Not long after they had left I decided to walk back home. I had promised Pietro to spend some time with him and I didn't want him to wander alone through the woods with outsiders lurking around..." Wanda stopped to take a breath, knowing what she was about to say next would upset her parents. "Next thing I knew I heard Pietro scream. I ran as fast as I could towards the direction it came from. When I arrived I saw how two of the outsiders I saw that morning held Pietro hostage while holding a knife to his throat. They were yelling at two of your hunters. I was so afraid they were gonna hurt Pietro, but out of nowhere the lone stranger who got left behind sprinted from behind a tree and rescued Pietro. They got stabbed after. I know our rules and how our people think about outsiders, but I think this one is different. They at least deserve to be helped by our healer as a thank-you for saving Pietro. My little brother. Your son and successor." It became quiet. For a few minutes, no one said a word. Django stared at his daughter with an unknown look. He then looked to Pietro, who was still being held by his mother. "Is it true, little warrior? Did the lone stranger save you from those barbarians from the outside world?" Pietro nodded his head. One of the two hunters then spoke up and confirmed the part about the lone stranger saving Pietro. Django walked up to the hunter who still held your motionless body in his arms. He looked at your face, then at your wound, which was in high need of treatment. He looked back at his wife who nodded at him, he then looked to his daughter who was already looking at him with hopeful eyes. "If we treat them we can't just let them go back to the outside world. They will know too much about our civilization. It will bring our community at risk. I can't let that happen, Princess." Wanda understood her father's reasoning. The outsiders had hurt her community more than enough. One of her uncles fell victim to them. He died three years ago in a one-sided fight he got into with a group of outsiders he came across at the edge of the woods when he was taking an evening walk. Her father was never the same after finding his brother's beaten and lifeless body. Later he found out that a  member of their community, who secretly had started seeing an outsider, had told her about the village in the woods. Her brother and his friends went to the woods that fatal night to look for these so-called forest people and bumped into Clint, her uncle. He refused to lead them to the village and ended up choking in his own blood after a severe beating. The villager who had given up their secret existence had been sentenced to death a day later after they had tracked him down. Wanda could still recall like it was yesterday how he begged for mercy as he was about to be beheaded by her father. The sound of his sword cutting through his neck had given her the chills. His head was after that placed on a stake outside the gates as a warning, so no one would ever make the same mistake as him. In the years after that, the people of the woods secluded themselves even more from the outside world. No trips to the edge of the woods were made again. 
"They won't tell anyone about us, Dad," Wanda says confidentially. "Not when we keep them here." Django looks at his daughter with confusion, "What do you mean by keeping them here? You mean like a prisoner in the caves or that we keep their body here after ending their life?" Wanda shakes her head at that. "No. I mean that they become one of us. It may take some time for them to adjust to their new home, but I will personally guide them into accepting their new life if you give them the chance. It happened before, remember? We've accepted an outsider before and that went positively. I know that was a long time ago and it happened before that horrendous evening, but I have fate this lone stranger will be a good addition to our community." Django shakes his head with a sigh, but before he can speak up one of his most trusted huntingmen steps forward, Buchanan, who was the former outsider Wanda spoke of. He was now happily married to his wife Natalie and has two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Ten years ago he had ended up lost in the woods after his car broke down on the road that went through it. Due to no service on his phone, he started walking, hoping to find a nearby gas station of some kind of civilization that could help him fix his car. He ended up walking further into the woods. After seven days of wandering around the woods without food or drinkable water, he passed out. Django and two of his men had found him on a hunting trip. They brought him back to their home and the rest was history. "With all due respect, sir. I stand with your daughter, Wanda, on this matter. I understand your worries about the possible consequences and dangers it could bring us and our loved ones" he said while looking back at his wife Natalie, "but not every outsider is like those who ended your brother's life. I am an example of that. The lone stranger can also be an example. In my eyes, they have already proven they are different by saving your son's life while risking their own. I volunteer to help them, together with Wanda, with adjusting themselves to their new life. If you agree at letting them stay, of course." "I volunteer too, sir," Natalie says while stepping forward to stand next to her husband. Wanda smiled at hearing her best friends supporting her. Marya then steps forward and places a hand on her husband's shoulders. He looks at her. She doesn't even have to say anything for him to know what she thinks. He thinks everything through before giving her a small smile while nodding his head. He turns back to look at his daughter with his mind made up. “Okay”, He says. “I will give them a month to adjust. If by then they have, they can stay with us. If not...” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Wanda to know what will happen then. She nods her head in acceptance. “Thank you, Father.” 
Django orders the man who is still holding you in his arms to bring you to the healer so she can patch you up. Wanda follows them together with Natalie and Buchanan. 
You are placed on a wooden bed with animal fur covering it. The village healer, Stephany Strange, walks towards you with a serious face. She tells Wanda, Natalie, and Buchanan to step back and give her space to do what she does best. She removes all the clothing that is covering your knife wound and starts her treatment.
After thoroughly cleaning your wound she grabs a jar from the shelf behind her. The content of it she smears on your irritated wound. You flinch in your unconscious state, but soon your body relaxes as the cream is doing its magic. Wanda watches everything with careful eyes. Stephany mumbles some ancient spells while moving her hands in patterns above your wound. When she's done she wipes the remnants of the cream off of your waist and as if a miracle just happened the wound had magically disappeared. The only indicator of you ever being stabbed there was a decent-sized scar where the knife had been.
Stephany looks up at Wanda and says, "They're healed and should wake up within the day. Make sure they rest well and drink enough water," before turning around and elegantly walking out of the room. Wanda takes a seat next to the bed. She inspects the scar and amazes herself with the healer's work. No one knows how she does it. Every time someone asks her about it they get a different answer. According to rumors, Stephany Strange is an ancient sorceress with great magical power. Whether it's true, no one knows. Whoever she is, she is well respected and beloved in the village. From the moment she arrived at the gates casually asking for a place to shelter from the rain all those years ago, she made herself useful in the community. Before her arrival, many villagers had severe health problems, causing a lot of them to die. Stephany changed that. Instead of staying only temporarily until the storm had passed she never left and became their official healer.
Wanda looked outside the window at the darkening sky. Nighttime had come. The full moon was placed in the middle of the darkness, surrounded by thousands of stars. Her mind went to her father's words. If you hadn't accepted your new life by the next full moon, you would end up as a sacrificial meal. She grabbed one of your hands in her own. She barely knew you, but she felt a certain way about you. Maybe it was because you saved her little brother. Maybe it was because you had a certain aura around you. An aura different from the other outsiders she came across from. Natalie placed a reassuring hand on top of Wanda's shoulder, knowing exactly how she felt. She had felt the exact same way when she first laid eyes on Buchanan. She was gonna support her friend in every way possible like she did with her. 
-
While unconscious, you were haunted by terrible nightmares. You were running for your life through the dark woods while clutching your stomach trying to keep your intestines from falling out. How you were able to keep on your feet in this state was beyond you. You could faintly hear the rushed footsteps of your attackers running after you. They were screaming in an unknown language. It sounded like battle cries. You did not dare look back or reduce speed. This was a life and death situation and you weren't gonna die because you were tired of running or were curious as to how far those savages were. You were not gonna end up like one of those dumb characters in a horror movie, even though it felt like you were in one yourself. In the state you were in you didn't notice the branch sticking out of the ground until your tripped over it and fell face-first on the harsh ground. You grunted in pain as your whole body was shaking. Your vision became more blurred as you desperately tried to crawl forward with the tiny bit of energy you had still left due to adrenaline rushing through your body. You didn't get far. When two big hands grabbed you by your shoulders you knew that this meant your demise. You were roughly turned onto your back. Three large creatures stood bowed over you. They had animal skulls covering their faces and wore animal fur as clothes. You wanted to scream, but no sound came out of your mouth. One of them suddenly moved their hands to your stomach and pulled your intestines out you had desperately tried to keep inside. The other two then raised their axes and started slashing into you. At first, you were in the most horrendous pain you could imagine until you didn't feel anything anymore. You stared at the birds flying in the sky above you as your body shook with each slash. The sound of flesh being cut and breaking bones didn’t reach your ears anymore. Soon your eyes closed.
Suddenly you jolt awake. Your breathing was irregular and your body was covered in sweat. You felt two soft hands on each side of your face and heard an unfamiliar but soothing voice say something. It took you a while to calm down and get out of your disorientated state. It was only when you were calm you fully registered the other person in the room. It was a beautiful-looking woman with long wavy red hair and emerald eyes you could drown in if you looked into them for too long. They looked familiar as if you had looked into them before, you just couldn't remember when. Her thumbs were brushing in circles over your cheeks, calming you down even more. Both of you looked at each other for some time in comfortable silence until it dawned upon you that you had no idea who this woman sitting in front of you was. Then you remembered what had happened in the woods. You pushed the woman's hands off of your face and jumped up from the bed. You grabbed an unknown object and held it in front of you as a defense weapon while you backed up until you hit what you think is a wall. The woman calmly stood up and walked in your direction while saying something in a language you don't recognize. Suddenly two other people burst through the door. The woman in front of you looked at them while speaking to them with the same calm voice as she did with you, only they seemed to understand what she was saying. At that moment while the woman with red hair was too distracted by her conversation you made an unfortunate decision as panic had taken over your mindset. You grabbed her and pulled her into a headlock while you started yelling at the two people who just entered for answers. "Who are you? Where am I, What are you going to do to me?" If you had paid better attention to your surroundings you could have noticed that the ‘wall’ you had backed yourself against wasn't a wall, but a door. Before you could register the person standing behind you, you were hit on the back of your head with a blunt object. The force made you lose your grip on the woman as you fell to the floor in a hazy state. You didn't register what happened to you after that until you regained your clearness again in a poorly lit cell.
-
After an unknown amount of time had passed the door to your cell opened, showing an unfamiliar woman with short red hair. She held something in her hands, but due to the darkness, you couldn't make up what it was. She stepped closer to you until she was in the middle of the room. Crouching down she placed the object on the ground. It was an earthenware bowl with fresh fruits in it. The bowl contained strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, apples, and pears. You hesitantly looked at the bowl, you were hungry but too afraid and unsure to make any sudden, unwanted moves that could lead you to be punished or brutally killed. You had seen with your own eyes what these people were capable of. The woman's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She pointed at the food and then toward you. She didn't sound angry or dangerous. Carefully you moved towards the bowl. Picking it up with your hands you studied the colorful fruits before bringing them piece for piece to your mouth. It was delicious. They were sweet and juicy. With each piece, you let out a moan from delight. This was far better than the fruit you bought at the grocery store. While you were busy eating, the woman standing in front of you was watching you, studying you. She didn't see anything dangerous in you. She saw the fear in your eyes when she walked in. Fear can do a lot to people. You woke up in a strange place with a stranger after witnessing something traumatic. At least, for you. Natalie had witnessed multiple deaths in her life and even though it still did something to her, it wasn't traumatizing to her. Your fear drove you to the stupid action that led you to be put into the cell you were in. She understood that. It reminded her of Buchanan. He did something similar in the first week here. With her right hand, she touched the small scar on the side of her neck where Buchanan had held a knife to. They had come so far. A small smile plastered her face. When you were finished with eating you placed the bowl back on the floor close by the woman's feet and slid back towards the wall. The woman grabbed the bowl and walked back towards the door. The whole time it had been wide open while calling your name. You could have tried to escape through it, but you didn't. Progress. Natalie thought. It was small and to some meaningless, but to her and most definitely to Wanda, it wasn't. She closed the door behind her and made her way to Wanda's cabin, who was already anticipatingly waiting for her to give her an update about you.
-
Soon the second morning of your stay in the woods dawns. While you're still secured in your cell, your parents were seated at their kitchen table with the sheriff seated across from them. Your mother could barely hold it together as your father worriedly told the sheriff about you not coming home after the party. It got even worse when the sheriff told them you weren't the only one who was reported missing. He told them that partygoers had seen you and a few others walking towards the woods. While your father was trying to console your mother he asked the sheriff if they had found any trace of you and the others. The sheriff nodded and placed your phone on the table. The screen was broken and there was something that looked like blood on one of the corners. The only thing the sheriff could bring out was "I'm so sorry. We will try everything in our power to bring them back home..." If we ever find them... He doesn't say that last part out loud, but with all the people who went missing without as much of a trace, he fears the worst. His thoughts go to his daughter who was also part of the group that was seen walking to those damn woods. He prayed to god that his daughter was okay, not knowing the horrid ending she had gotten. Her body lay almost unrecognizable in one of the death traps the people from the woods had places to keep outsiders far away from their home. Her screams of pain still echoed through the air as a crow was picking flesh from her split open head.
-
The early sunlight shining on your face woke you up. The door to your cell stood wide open. With care in your movements, you stood up and walked towards the light. As you walked out of the darkness from your cell you moved your hand up to block the bright sunlight from shining in your eyes and blinding you. When you were adjusted to it you looked around, taking in your surroundings. No one seemed to pay attention to you. Maybe this was your chance to escape from wherever you were. Taking another look around you to make sure the coast was clear, you started to walk in the direction of a seemingly unguarded piece of the high wall surrounding the village, not aware of the watchful pair of eyes that lay upon you. At the wall, you placed your hands on the wooden beams looking for any weak spots you could take advantage of, but you found none. Looking up you calculated whether climbing over it was an option. Before you could make a decision a firm hand was placed on your shoulder. Your eyes widened and you were sure this was the moment you were gonna die. Slowly turning around you stood face to face with a scary-looking man with brown hair that was tied in a bun and had only one arm on his body. He looked at you with an unknown look in his eyes. Suddenly he threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you towards a large cabin in the middle of the village. When you entered you were met with a room full of people who were eating and talking together. The man led you towards a table with a small group of people sitting around it in the middle of the room. Both the woman who you tried to hold hostage the other day and who gave you food last night were seated there. There was also a man and a woman who looked like to be around your parent’s age seated at the end of the table. The silver-haired boy was also there, seated next to two red-headed children who seemed to be enjoying some sort of meat. The man who still had his arm thrown over your shoulder pushed you down on a chair next to the emerald-eyed woman before taking a seat himself next to the other redhead. He kisses her on her cheek before he grabs some food off his plate and starts to eat it. You look down at the plate filled with food in front of you. Your stomach was rumbling as it was begging to be filled with food. Everyone around you was already enjoying their breakfast while moaning at the apparently delicious taste. You hesitantly reached for the reddish-looking meat before bringing it to your mouth. Taking a small bite you chew on it a couple of times, enjoying the taste of it. It wasn’t something you had eaten before as you didn’t recognize the flavor high-jacking your taste buds. The structure of the meat was a little tougher than you were used to, but it wasn’t bad. Before you knew it you had finished your breakfast and so had everyone around you. You see people clean up their things before walking out of the room to start their day. You feel a hand on your shoulder. It was the emerald-eyed woman. She looked down at you with a sweet smile and motioned for you to stand up and come with her. You could feel the stares of the others linger on you as you stood up from the table and walked after the woman. You did not know where she was taking you but you were not in a position to question things as it could cost you your life. If you wanted to live, you were obligated to live by their rules, even though you didn’t know them yet. Maybe if you showed them you meant no harm, they would let you go. It sounded like a good plan but you knew, in the back of your mind, that you were probably never gonna be let go and that this place was where you were gonna spend the rest of your life, but for now you ignored that thought. You ended up at the cabin where your stay in this village started. The woman opened the door for you and you walked in with her following not close behind you. When you heard the door lock behind you you feared the worst. 
As you stood with your back to her you felt her hands being placed on your shoulders. You felt yourself tens up and she felt it too. She wanted to comfort you, but she knew that you weren’t there yet. She retracted from you and walked towards a closet in the corner of the room. She grabbed some clean clothes, clothes made of deer fur, and gave them to you. She turned around to give you some privacy. When you’re ready you scrape your throat to get her attention. She turns around and looks at you, taking in your appearance. You look a little bit more like them now. She smiles. You don’t understand why. She holds out her hand for you to take, which you reluctantly do, and pulls you outside. 
-
Fourteen days went by. Every day you were woken up by the scary man and led to breakfast with his strong arm thrown over your shoulder while he hummed a happy tune, which had given you the chills the first half of the week, but by now you were at a point of almost joining him. You would sit next to the emerald-eyed woman, whose name, you learned, is Wanda. Slowly but certainly you started to understand what they were saying. Sometimes you even joined in on the conversation even though it wasn't much. You felt yourself getting comfortable. Your fear of them had lessened but hadn't gone away completely. There was still that small voice in the back of your mind that kept you on your toes. While the urge of wanting to leave this place wasn't as strong, you still were thinking of ways to do so when you were alone at night in your cell before sleep overtook you. Sometimes you feel guilty for still thinking of escaping plans. Most of those times were when Wanda was with you. You didn't want to admit it, but she made you feel a certain way. A feeling you were a little scared of. Her contagious laugh, her soft touch, the need to help others, you being one of them, made you fall more and more for her each day. 
It was on the eighteenth day that instead of the scary man, Wanda woke you up. She had this sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you. She walked with a skip in her step to you and crouched down. Her hands were placed on both sides of your face as she smiled at you. "Today me and my friends will take you on a walk outside the wall. My father just gave me the green light." She brought you in a tight hug before standing back up again and walking towards the open door. When she didn't hear you move she looked back and nudged her head for you to follow, "Come on, handsome." You didn't understand the last part but you hurriedly stood up to follow her to the gates where the Buchanan and Natalie, whose names you just learned from Wanda, stood waiting for you both. Wanda's parents and leaders of the community were also there. He hugged his daughter, "Be safe out there, sweetheart. I trust you and your friends to behave yourselves out there and stay inside the safe area." Wanda nodded, "Yes father. And if anything somehow goes wrong, Buchanan is with us to protect us." Django looks at him as he nods in confirmation. He then looks at you. "Don't disappoint my daughter. See this as a test. If you fail..." He doesn't finish his sentence, but you know what he's alluding to and he knows you know by the slight fear in your eyes. He has seen the progress you've made in the past weeks. He has also seen how happy you make his daughter, even though you don't seem to notice it yet. But he knows from experience that some people, under certain circumstances, can do disappointing things. He hopes that you're not one of them. Time will tell. He watches as Wanda takes your hand and leads you through the open gates into the woods with Buchanan and Natalie walking not far behind.
-
Wanda let's go of your hand to go take a closer look at some beautiful flowers. You watch her as she does so. A small smile is plastered on your face as you watch this goddess of a woman as she gracefully touches nature's decorations. Buchanan and Natalie are watching you while having a whispered conversation.  "This sight reminds me of our story, my love," Natalie says as she hugs her husband. "Who do you think will make the first move? Them of Wanda?" Buchanan shrugs his shoulders at his wife's question. "It doesn't matter, doll. What matters is what comes after the first move. Once they discover how the other feels about them not many other things will be on their mind. Like with us. You're my everything, Natalie." He looks down at his wife and brings her in a loving kiss. "I love you." "I love you too."
Soon Wanda returns, taking your hand back in hers again. The four of you walk further while taking in the beauty that is nature that surrounds you. It's quiet, only the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the chirping of birds that fly in the blue sky can be heard. Now you have a slightly bigger chance of escaping the people who brought you to their home the thought has not come up in your mind once. You enjoy walking with Wanda, Natalie, and even Buchanan. You feel at peace. The stress that had you in its grip back home has let you go. There is no worrying about work deadlines or bills that need to be paid. While you had trouble socializing with the people outside the woods, in the woods, with its inhabitants, it felt so much easier. It didn't feel forced and you didn't feel like throwing up when you had to speak to someone you didn't know yet. The small acts of affection from Wanda, like her holding your hand, felt like something you had craved for all your life without you even knowing. Not once you had experienced the feeling she gave you before. You did have flings before that made you feel something, but that was nothing like this. This felt more intense. Her presence made you feel like butterflies had made your stomach their home. You wanted to express your feelings towards her, but you didn't know how, and even if you did, you didn't know if she felt the same about you. Sure she was affectionate with you, but that didn't mean automatically that she had some sort of romantic feelings for you. You hoped she did though.
It doesn't take long however for your peaceful and slightly romantic walk through the woods to be disturbed. Unknown voices in the distance alert Buchanan as he leads Natalie, Wanda, and you to hide in the bushes. He grabs hold of a large knife that he always carries with him, as he waits for the outsiders to appear. Your eyes widen when you see who they are. Remembering that his daughter was with you the night you entered these woods you looked at the sheriff who, together with a few of his men, was walking from behind some trees with their guns in their hands, ready to fire whoever dared attack them. Suddenly the voice in your head that you hadn't heard in a while and had forgotten about spoke again, telling you that this was your chance to escape. The chance of Buchanan taking out all these armed men was present, but not high. The sheriff knows you and would probably not shoot you. You thought the idea over. If you waited for them to come a little closer Buchanan had less of a chance of grabbing you as he sat furthest away from you. They could help you find your way back to civilization. Back to your loving parents, to your good but stressful job, paying bills that got higher each year, and forced social gatherings. You were pulled from your thoughts by Wanda who hugged your arm tightly as she watched the men with worry and slight fear. She knew that if they were discovered it would probably mean their end. It was at that moment that you made your choice. You squeezed Wanda's hand tightly to reassure her. You weren't gonna leave her. She means too much to you. You love her too much to betray her and her people like this.
Natalie had seen the internal struggle when she looked at you. She could see it from your body language and the look in your eyes when you shifted your gaze from the armed group of outsiders who, from Natalie's perspective, you seemed to know, to Wanda who hugged herself close to your side. She knew you could have made a run for it. You didn't. You had de perfect opportunity and you didn't take it because of her. Wanda. She knew at that moment that you had fallen head over heels for her best friend. Even under the current circumstances, you all were in, a small smile was plastered on Natalie's face.
Luckily for you, the sheriff and his men walked past the bushes you were hiding in and back towards the edge of the woods, far away from the hidden village. When they were out of sight and ear range it felt like all of you could breathe again. Buchanan made sure that the coast was clear before you all got out of the bushes in silence. Wanda hadn't let go of your arm the entire time. You didn't mind.
The four of you decided to walk back home. Natalie and Buchanan are in front with you and Wanda walking close behind. It didn't take long for you to arrive. The gates were opened for you to come in. You thought that Wanda would want to go see her parents after what happened, but instead, she bid her silent goodbyes to Natalie and Buchanan before she made her way to her cabin pulling you with her without saying a word. When the both of you are inside Wanda locks the door so no one can interrupt the both of you. You turn to look at her, wanting to make sure she is okay... "Wanda...I" But before you can say anything else, Wanda steps forward and closes the gap between you. She cups your face in her soft hands as she kisses you with passion. You’re surprised at her action and it takes you a moment to snap out of it. But when you do, you kiss her back with just as much passion.
A whine leaves your mouth as Wanda pulls away from you and takes a step back. The woman in front of you stares at you with desire as she starts undressing. Slowly. It takes everything in you to stay patient and calm and not just rip her clothes off of her body, but you manage. As her dress lowers to the ground you can feel yourself getting aroused at the godly sight of her nude body. Her breasts are perky with hardened rosy nipples calling for your mouth to suck them. Her tighs a canvas for you to place marks on. The forbidden fruit between her legs you can't wait to eat from. While admiring her you start to undress. She watches you with a slightly opened mouth and reddened cheeks. When you're both completely naked she walks backward towards her bed and takes her place on it, not taking her eyes off of you. Her hands move to her breasts to kneed them, something you'd like to do yourself. One of her hands soon moves south. She spreads her legs for you to see her dripping core, where soon two of her fingers disappear in. It's hard for her to not close her eyes at the pleasure, but she wants to watch you. She wants to see the lust in your eyes as you watch her pleasure herself. She wants to see you struggle to prevent yourself from taking action. It turns her on even more. You clench your fists when a loud moan leaves her mouth. When your name escapes her lips you can't stop yourself anymore. You urge towards her and before she can reach her orgasm you pull her fingers out of her, replacing them with your own. Her back arches off the bed as you hit the perfect spot inside her. You take one of her nipples in your mouth and start to suck. Her hand moves to your head to keep you in place. She bucks her hips into your hand, getting close to her orgasm again. A simple plea leaves her mouth, "P-please..." You look up at her. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar as sweat beads cover her head. Her eyes are closed tight shut as she feels herself coming closer and closer to her release as your fingers keep a steady pace. "Look at me, my sweet flower. Look at me while you cum. I want to see how beautiful you look when you do." It isn't easy, but she manages to open them and look you in the eyes. Your beautiful eyes hold love and care in them, but also desire and lust. "Cum for me." You say one more time as you watch the woman beneath you cums undone. You can feel her walls clench around your fingers before her wetness covers them, together with your hand and the sheets underneath her. You help her ride out her high before you carefully retract your fingers to lick them clean. You moan at her delicious taste. She can't help herself from staring at you licking yourself clean from her juices. Before you can start with your hand she sits up and takes a hold of it, bringing it to her own mouth to lick her juices off of it while keeping strong eye contact with you. When you're all clean she brings you into a loving kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, which you eventually get. You push her back onto the bed and start slowly kissing down her body, leaving multiple marks on your way down. You open her legs to make space for you. With her legs placed over your shoulders, you start licking and sucking until she sees stars.
-
As the days went by you and Wanda grew closer together. She had taught you about her people's way of living and the language they spoke. Each day you became more like one of them, each day you forgot more about your previous life. Django and Marya could see how happy their daughter was with you. They too started to think of you as one of their own. You earned more freedom as you earned their trust. Your favorite occupation was taking long walks with Wanda through the woods while listening to her endless stories. You'd even admit that sometimes her stories wouldn't reach your ears as her beauty was too distracting for you. You loved everything about her. You loved her so much that you couldn't imagine a life without her anymore. Life before her became meaningless to you. Each night you declared your love over and over again to her. Every morning you would tell her you loved her in her language, which had become yours too.
  Soon it was the day of the full moon. The judgment day. But everyone knew what the outcome would be as you were now almost fully a forest person. You were one of them. It would be official after the ceremonial party that was being thrown that night. Everyone was gathered outside celebrating their new neighbor with self made beverages and food in their hands. As Django held a speech everyone raised their cups to toast on you. While everyone cheered after Django finished, Wanda pulled you away from the crowd to congratulate you in peace and quiet. Wanda pulled you into a loving kiss as she held both your hands in her own. "I love you so much, Y/n. I'm so proud of you for becoming one of us. Now you and I can be together forever." She said before bringing you into another kiss. Your mind was taken hostage by your love for Wanda. "I love you too, my love. With every fiber of my body. Every thought holds you in it." Without further thought you pick Wanda up and take her to your shared cabin. Placing her on the soft bed with care you undress her while kissing every inch of her skin. When she's fully bare you take one of her rosy nipples in your mouth while you pinch and roll the other in between your fingers. You push your muscled thigh in between her parted legs, making her moan at the sudden pressure against her dripping cunt. She rolls her hips to get more friction. "Baby, I-I need you. I need you down there. P-please." Wanda begs beneath you. "If you want my mouth you need to cum on my thigh first. I know you can do it. Be a good girl and cum for me. Ruin my pants." You move your mouth to her other nipple, making her cry beneath you. She fastens her pace, chasing her high. She needs to cum, she wants you in between her legs so bad. She is so close. You tense your muscles for her. "Oh yes, baby!" She moans as she can feel a wave of pleasure flood over her. Her juices cover your thigh as you help her ride out your orgasm. "Good girl. Such a good girl." You whisper in her ear before you make your way down. 
-
After another terrific orgasm, you decide to give her a break. You lay beside her and bring her into a tight hug. "You did so good for me, love. I'm so proud." Wanda snuggles further against you with a satisfied smile as she throws her arm over your stomach, not wanting you to move. "Thank you, darling. Thank you for loving me and making me feel so good." The two of you lay there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the people partying outside.
"Marry me"
"What?"
"Marry me" You repeat.
Wanda looks up at you and sees the seriousness and love in your eyes. Last night I talked to your parents about me. You. Us. I love you, Wanda. So much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but before I ask you if you want the same I asked your parents for permission out of respect. I mean it, Wanda. I've never felt this way. I know we only know each other for about a month, but I've never been so sure about something before. Marry me. Make me the happiest person in the world. I will treat you like the queen you are and make you the happiest woman. I want you to be my wife." You look at her in full expectation. Her eyes start to get watery. For a second you panick and think the worst, until she cups your face and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "Yes, my darling. A 100 times yes. Of course, I want to marry you and become your wife. I want nothing more." You smile at hearing her answer. The both of you stay in bed for another hour before both of you dress and return to your party to share your big news, receiving nothing but positive reactions from your new family and friends. 
-
The next few days were all about planning your and Wanda's wedding. Wanda's mother, Marya assigned herself the task of sewing her daughter the perfect wedding dress and you, her daughter's fiance, the perfect suit. Django and his men made it their mission to build an altar in the middle of the village. Buchanan had gotten the task of collecting everything for the wedding ceremony. To do this he had to go to your parent's house. Together with two others, he left the village two days before your big day, promising Natalia a safe return. Natalia spends her days with Wanda, helping her get ready. Wanda felt nervous. She wanted everything to go right. She couldn't wait for her wedding night which she would spend against your hot sweaty body. She felt herself getting aroused by the thoughts of every sinful thing she wanted to do with you. She knew you loved her with all your being, but she also knew something you didn't. The wedding ceremony contained a sacrifice that was to be made by the one who had asked the question of marriage. You. Her worry of you maybe leaving her left as soon as she looked outside to see you playing some made-up game with her little brother. With a smile, she watched on as the two of you competitively battled for the win. It ended up in you giving the win to Pietro, making him smile with joy. Soon she would be your wife and the two of you would be bonded till death parted you. She wasn't gonna let you ever leave her. She loved you too much to let that happen. You loved her too much to do that anyway.
-
It was the night of your and Wanda's wedding. You were standing in your earth-colored suit at the altar waiting for your almost wife to walk down the aisle, together with the rest of the forest people. The open field where the wedding was taking place was beautifully decorated with decorations from nature and various small bonfires. The clear night sky was lit up by thousands of stars. It was the perfect night. You made eye contact with Marya, who gave you an approving nod. Behind you stood Buchanan, who became your best friend in the past weeks. On the other side of the altar stood Natalie, who looked at you with a pleased smile. Her best friend was getting married to her husband's new best friend. Life was good. The four of you could go on double dates. She already had so many fun activities in her head you could do together. As you looked around to look at all the people attending your special day, something nagged at you. Something was missing but you couldn't put your finger on it. Before you could think further of it, you spotted Wanda. Wanda who wore a stunning dress matching your suit, was being walked to the altar by her father. Tears threatened to leave your eyes at the sight. A true goddess she was. Soon Wanda stood before you. Her father gave her hand to you. The both of you looked at each other with love until the person who was gonna bond you two spoke up, drawing all attention to them.
When he was done Django spoke up. "Tonight is special to me. My eldest child and only daughter is marrying her forever love, Y/n. A person who comes from the horrid we call the outside world who found their way to us after being abandoned by those whom they once saw as their people. A person we welcomed into our home who eventually made it theirs too. They proved themselves to us and became one of us, something we celebrated in harmony as a community. Tonight I want to welcome them into my family." He said with a cheerful expression, but that soon changed into a serious one. "But before that can happen, Y/n has to perform our traditional wedding ritual to prove their undying love and loyalty towards their future wife, Wanda." You felt Wanda's grip on your hands tighten at his words. Django turned to you, "Will you y/n, accept doing the ritual to prove your undying love and loyalty towards Wanda?" You look at Wanda who nods at you, then back at him. "I will." You say with determination in your voice. Django calls for two of his men to go grab something from the cabin you remember vaguely being held in the first nights of your stay here. They return with two other people who have jute bags covering their heads and rope bound around their wrists. The two unknown people are pushed onto their knees in front of you. You can hear Wanda whisper in your ear as you look down at the strangers, "You will do this for me because you love me. Remember that, baby. Remember how much you love me and how much I love you. After you do this, we can be together forever." She pecks your cheek before she lets go of your hands. In replacement, you feel the handle of a hunting knife being placed in your hand. "Think of me when you finish them. Think of how good I will make you feel after this is over. You've seen what a good girl I can be, but imagine me being your bad girl..." With one last kiss, she nudges you closer toward the kneeled people. Django grabs both jute bags and pulls them off of the people's heads. Seated in front of you, covered in dirt, blood, and bruised were your parents. As they looked up at you you could see some relief, but a lot of fear. As you looked at them all sounds around you faded away. You could see their mouths move as they seemingly pleaded for their lives, but no sound reached your ears. Everyone else looked at you in expectation, waiting for you to immortalize your wedding in blood. Before you can think about all of this too much, you feel Wanda's soft hands on your shoulders. You remember why you needed to do this. You needed to do this for her. For your love. Your happy ending. So without further thought and doubt, you step forward, closing the gap between you and your begging parents and in one swift motion slash both their throats. Blood splatters all over you as it leaves their body. It doesn't take long for two lifeless bodies to drop onto the ground. Everybody starts to cheer you on and celebrate the official making of your and Wanda's wedding. You turn around to face Wanda who smiles at you with love. She lunges forward and kisses you with might, getting blood all over her dress. As the ceremony finishes you take Wanda to your cabin for your wedding night. Seeing you sacrifice your parents for her made Wanda go feral. The door is barely closed when Wanda rips your suit off of your body en pushes you onto the bed. She jumps on top of you and starts to place kisses on your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere. She rips a piece off of her dress and ties your hands to the headboard with it. You can only look at her with pure hunger as she devours you. Teasingly she riddens herself off of her dress, throwing it on the floor. She straddles your thigh as she kneads her breasts, pinching her nipples. while humping your thigh one of her hands moves between your legs. You moan loudly as she slowly pleasures you, building up to your first orgasm. No words are being spoken, only grunts and moans are leaving both your mouths. You can feel her wetness drip down your leg and it makes you reach your orgasm faster. Some crazy boost of strength enters your body as you free yourself with a strong tug from your restraints. Before she can register what you've done you flip her over, onto her stomach, spanking her a few times as she has been a bad girl. Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of your hand hitting her ass, probably leaving a handprint. You take hold of her hair, making a makeshift ponytail to pull on. You align yourself with her dripping cunt en slowly thrust inside. A deep moan leaves Wanda's mouth at each inch you move further inside her until you're fully inside her. Not giving her a lot of time to adjust you start pounding into her like a wild animal. Wanda's face is being pushed into the pillow beneath her as she drools from pleasure. You don't care about the noises you make. Everyone is allowed to hear how good you fuck Wanda. Your wife. Wanda murmurs something inaudible, but you know what she wants, and you're gonna give it to her. You're gonna give her as much as she wants. "Cum, my queen. Make a mess. Show me how good I make you feel." You pull her up against your chest and move one hand towards her clit. Everything becomes too much for her and soon her dam breaks. Her juices spill from her pleasured pussy. You help her ride out her second orgasm. You pull out and lay onto your back on the bed, helping Wanda straddle your lap again. "I want you to ride me, my queen. Fuck yourself on me." Due to her sensitivity, she slowly sinks down. She places her hands on your chest as she rides you, leaving scratches all over your skin. Her breasts bounce with each roll of her hips and you love it. Your mouth drools at the sight of them. Wanda's eyes close as she feels another orgasm approach. She sits up and moves her hands to play with her breasts again as you place your hands on her hips, guiding her. "Go on, baby. Cum." You sweetly order her. Watching her orgasm is beautiful. The sound she makes while doing it is like music to your ears. Tiredly she drops on top of you. You stroke her hair while she calms down. "Tired baby? Do you need a break?" You ask her. A slightly dark laugh leaves her mouth as she sits back up and wraps one of her hands around your throat, slightly choking you. "Break? Oh, baby. I'm not tired yet and I'm far from done with you. We're just getting started. You're mine now as I am yours and I will keep reminding you of that till death do us part. Now open your mouth and eat my pussy..." 
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Worried Thoughts
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.
Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.
Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.
A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!
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He’s frustrated with you.
He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.
But he’s still frustrated with you.
You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.
It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.
Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.
It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.
But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.
You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.
You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.
To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.
He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.
It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.
That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.
The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.
So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him? 
You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.
But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.
“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”
His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.
“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”
Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.
Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.
“You act afraid.”
You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.
When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.
“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.
“An astute observation.”
“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”
“I see. That is reasonable.”
It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.
You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”
When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.
“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”
The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.
“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”
Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.
His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him. 
“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.
“That would be pleasant.”
And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.
When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.
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genshinluvr · 6 months
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Fountain of Lucine
Pairings: Neuvillette x reader
Summary: Neuvillette insists on being your tour guide around Fontaine, and things unfold from there.
Note: Omg, a fanfic after (almost) two months? :o This is going to be going in a different "mini-fic" section. It will have its own masterlist (I will be making that soon) and fanfic "series" on AO3. I couldn't come up with a better title, but the fic does take place at the Fountain of Lucine in Fontaine. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.7k
Neuvillette was giving you a tour of Fontaine. While he certainly didn’t need to do it, Neuvillette insisted on being your tour guide rather than having Aether or Lumine show you around the beautiful region. When Neuvillette insisted on being your tour guide, Aether and Lumine were surprised because the Chief Justice of Fontaine giving a tour around the vast region of the Hydro Archon? It was a shock, needless to say. And now here you are, walking toward the Fountain of Lucine with the Chief Justice beside you. Each time your arm brushes against his, you can’t help but blush to the tip of your ears.
“I believe a tour around Fontaine with someone familiar with the region would be more helpful than from those who are merely visitors,” Neuvillette says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You look at Neuvillette, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t want to be a distraction, Monsieur Neuvillette. As the Chief Justice of Fontaine, you have a lot on your plate.”
The Fountain of Lucine gradually becomes louder as the both of you approach. Fontainians and Melusines passing by and looking at you and the Chief Justice with curiosity. Neuvillette stops halfway, making you stop beside him. Neuvillette shakes his head, turns towards you, and gazes at you with an unreadable expression. You look at the man curiously as he crosses his arms over his chest before smiling at you.
“Please, [Y/N] will never be a distraction. There’s no need to worry about being a distraction when it was I who offered to show you around the region,” Neuvillette reassures you. “And please, call me Neuvillette. There’s no need for formalities.”
Neuvillette’s hands twitch for a second as if he were going to raise his hand, but his hand remains on his biceps. You nod, cheeks becoming hotter the more he stares at you. Can Neuvillette tell you’re blushing under the moonlight? Your heart is pounding in your ears so loudly that it makes you wonder if Neuvillette can hear your heart racing against your chest.
You smile at the tall man bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck shyly. “That’s a relief to hear, Neuvillette. I’m glad you’re able to show me around Fontaine! I almost decided to explore the region alone, but Aether and Lumine were against the idea.”
Neuvillette’s eyes widen. “And why did you decide on exploring the region alone? It’s dangerous for someone like yourself to explore an unfamiliar environment alone.”
Before you can explain your reason, you hear rapid footsteps getting closer to where you and Neuvillette are standing. You turn to see a member of the Gardes jogging, no, sprinting toward you and Neuvillette. Given the look on his face, something must have happened, and it needs Neuvillette’s attention immediately.
The member of the Gardes stop before you and Neuvillette, panting. “Monsieur Neuvillette! Do you have a moment to spare?” The Garde asks, looking at Neuvillette pleadingly.
Neuvillette gives you a sympathetic look and places a hand on your bicep. “Give me a moment, [Y/N]. Do not leave this spot. I will be right back.”
You nod and watch Neuvillette and the member of the Gardes walk to the side to speak. You can’t help but feel awkward standing in the middle of the walkway as people walk past you. You survey your surroundings, listening to the people of Fontaine chatter away. A soft tug on the hem of your shirt pulls you from your thoughts. You look down to see Blathine and Veleda look up at you with curiosity and excitement.
“Blathine, Veleda! It’s good to see you two again!” You say, smiling at the two Melusines. 
Veleda smiles and bounces on the balls of her feet. “It’s been too long, [Y/N]! I hope you’ve been doing well!”
“I’m doing well! I hope you’ve been doing well, too, Veleda!”
Blathine tugs on your shirt, walking closer to where you stand. “I see the Chief Justice is accompanying you to the Fountain of Lucine,” Blathine teases while poking you with her mitten-like hands. “You two seem close.”
You clear your throat, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Neuvillette insisted on giving me a tour around Fontaine. Fountain of Lucine happens to be our last destination.”
Blathine and Veleda glance at each other before bursting into fits of giggles while covering their mouth with their hands. Veleda clears her throat, leaning to the side to get a glimpse of the Chief Justice before looking at you. 
Veleda props her hands on her hips, giving you a closed-eye smile. “Can we tell you a secret?”
You blink at the Melusine and nod. “Of course! What do you want to tell me?”
Blathine claps while Veleda gestures for you to come closer. You inch forward and lean over while Veleda leans up to whisper into your ears.
“Neuvillette—”
“Oh? Trading secrets, now, are we?”
You, Veleda, and Blathine flinch before turning to look at Neuvillette. Neuvillette looks at you and the two Melusines with amusement, his arms crossed over his chest while standing behind you. You, Veleda, and Blathine look at one another, not saying a word.
Blathine laughs nervously, swaying in her spot. “What? Are Melusines and humans not allowed to trade secrets?” Blathine asks.
“That would depend on the secret. Am I allowed to hear in on this secret as well?” Neuvillette asks, raising his eyebrows at the two Melusines.
Blathine and Veleda’s eyes widen, and they quickly look at each other. “Uh…”
You purse your lips, attempting to hold back your laughter. You and Neuvillette lock eyes, and a small smile appears on his face. You smile in return, cheeks tingling. Neuvillette chuckles, shaking his head.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me if you two don’t want to,” Neuvillette sighs, feigning sadness.
A flash of panic appears on the two Melusines' faces as they turn to one another before looking at you. You do a double take and rub the back of your neck. ‘Do they want me to say something? What do they want me to do?’ You clear your throat and shrug.
“Hey, don’t look at me! I’m still not sure what the secret is,” you say, holding your hands up in surrender.
Veleda huffs and marches closer to you and Neuvillette. “Alright, if both of you want to know the secret, then I shall tell it!” Veleda announces. “The Chief Justice of Fontaine has a cr—”
Veleda is interrupted by the sounds of Neuvillette coughing and clearing his throat. Veleda closes her mouth and stares at the Chief Justice, unamused. You blink and look at Neuvillette, who coughs into his elbows before looking away. If you look closely, you can see the light pink hue on the Chief Justice’s cheeks and the tip of his ears.
You furrow your eyebrows. “The secret is about Neuvillette?” 
Blathine and Veleda nod. Before the two Melusines could say anything else, Neuvillette grabs hold of your hand and gently—very gently, he’s very gentle with you— and tugs you toward the Fountain of Lucine.
“I believe [Y/N] and I should continue our tour of the Fountain of Lucine. If you two excuse us, we should be headed off,” Neuvillette says.
Veleda and Blathine let out a soft ‘hmph!’ as they watch the white-haired man pull you toward the fountain. The rushing water is louder and louder to the point where it’s almost deafening. You can’t hear anyone around you speak, nor can you hear your thoughts. You tilt your head to the side, watching the newlyweds wish for children. 
“You seem to know the secret Veleda and Blathine were about to tell me, Neuvillette,” You comment, gazing at the Chief Justice from the corner of your eyes. “Maybe you would like to tell me the secret yourself?” You tease, turning toward Neuvillette.
“Ah, right…” Neuvillette trails off, looking away. “I am not sure if I want to tell the secret now,” Neuvillette murmurs.
You nod. It’s not like you’re going to push Neuvillette to tell you the secret. If he doesn’t want to tell you the secret now or ever, then he doesn’t need to! Although the curiosity is going to drive you crazy, you’ll be okay with not knowing what it is. 
“I can tell you the secret, but you will have to agree to something,” Neuvillette murmurs, stepping closer to you.
You didn’t realize it, but it just dawned on you that Neuvillette did not let go of your hand when you two arrived at the Fountain of Lucine. Not even once. It feels nice— feeling his warm hands holding yours.
“And that is?” You whisper, looking at him curiously.
Neuvillette brushes a flyaway hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear with his other hand. “Would you like to, perhaps, join me for dinner tomorrow night?”
If your face wasn’t hot already, then it certainly is now. You gulp and nod, smiling at the white-haired man. Is Neuvillette asking you out on a date? It could just be a casual dinner between acquaintances and nothing more! But what if it’s a date? Maybe when you see Aether and Lumine again, you can ask them. Neuvillette smiles and brings your hand up to his lips before pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. Or maybe you can ask the Chief Justice himself?
“Is this a date?” You blurt out.
Neuvillette smiles behind your hand while his lips remain pressing against your knuckles. He slowly lowers your hand from his face but doesn’t release it. You purse your lips and continue to stare at Neuvillette.
Neuvillette clears his throat. “You can decide on what you want it to be, [Y/N].” Neuvillette smiles.
“What if I want it to be a date,” you mutter.
Neuvillette chuckles. “Then a date is what it shall be,” Neuvillette concludes.
Oh, fuck, how did he hear that?
“Does that mean you’ll tell me the secret now?” You ask, gazing at the tall man with giddiness.
Neuvillette snorts and shakes his head. “You’ll have to wait until our date, [Y/N],” Neuvillette gently chides.
You make a disgruntled noise while Neuvillette chuckles, lightly pinching your cheek. You press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from grinning from ear to ear. Gathering up the courage, you place your hand over his. From a distance, Blathine and Veleda squeal softly, nudging each other with excitement. Blathine and Veleda make a quick note in their minds to inform the other Melusines about the Chief Justice’s upcoming date.
Note: I'm thinking about just making individual character mini-fics for both the Genshin and HSR isekai'd!reader and non-isekai'd!reader. It'll be a separate thing of its own (masterlist, "series" on AO3). I don't plan on posting two stories a week for fics like this since my schedule is unpredictable. But yea :3 I'm hoping to update here and there rather than disappearing for a while and reappearing out of nowhere. This fic along with other mini-fics I plan on making for each Genshin and HSR men will be in a separate masterlist. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
Thank you :)
Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses
Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 
To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 
Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 
Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 
You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 
‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 
Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.
A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 
You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’
Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 
‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 
The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 
‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  
‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’
Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 
Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 
‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.
‘’How long for?’’
Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’
You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 
‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 
‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 
When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 
‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’
‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 
‘’I left mine for you.’’ 
You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?
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chaoticace2005 · 24 days
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Spiders, their senses, and Angel Dust implications
I already screamed to @xxqueenofdragonsxx about this but figured I’d put it out there because I was doing research and I can’t stop thinking about it.
While we don’t know how canon it is to the show, this does have some implications for fanfics and is fun to consider.
Spiders don’t have ears. Or noses. Or tongues.
People have already made jokes about Angel’s lack of a nose, but it tracks with that fact. We also don’t see his ears, although we have seen his tongue (which, given he isn’t an actual spider there can be some allowances made.) Yes, he doesn’t have pedipalps to act as a substitution for his nose/tongue, but that isn’t the only place they can smell/taste things.
It’s their legs/feet(?). Their legs and bodies have sensory hair cells that allows them to detect vibrations in the air, as well as changes in electrical fields (which… Vox and Alastor implications? Can Angel sense them.) Humans hear via sensory hair cells too, but those are concentrated in the cochlea of the inner ear and surrounded by the outer/middle ear system (eardrum, etc.) Spiders don’t have that. They also have chemoreceptors that can smell and taste things.
Now, as someone who didn’t know much about spiders it’s cool to think about in terms of a character with some spider-like characteristics. But then I thought about this other aspect of Angel
His clothing
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More specifically his constant usage of gloves/long sleeves/boots. We know he hates his spider feet, and yeah, the usage of gloves and his blazer can be to fit his style, but it’s also fun to think that maybe him wearing them is an active attempt to reduce sensory input? He’d still get some vibration input because the fabric won’t block everything, but it won’t be as direct. But since spider sensory organs aren’t localized like humans are, this could essentially be the equivalent of wearing a headphones. (Also do you really want to taste every single thing you touch?)
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Which brings me to the second order of business: when he DOESNT wear his gloves. We do see him have to be bare for the camera, and if you consider him wearing clothes as a way of sensory modulation, he could essentially be forced to get all that input. Sensory overload would already be so ways in a place with so many sounds, lights, smells, etc. but imagine if you also have to do that when not used to such a level of exposure?
In humans there’s a condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a reduced pain and discomfort threshold to sounds. Some everyday ones can cause pain. Some neurodivergent people also have sensory sensitivities like that, in both cases sometimes headphones can help to reduce input.
The thing is though, if you constantly wear them you’re reducing your own threshold. It’s not recommended for people with hyperacusis to wear earplugs all the time because it makes them even more sensitive when not wearing them.
So, if you apply the same principle here, there is even more reason to consider the idea Angel would have some level of overstimulation just from not having his clothes on, combine that with the work environment, what he has to do, and the emotional turmoil of it all and that just makes it worse.
Which… with me anyways I’ve found when I’m too overloaded my brain tends to nope out and dissociate. So that could be what happens to Angel as well.
Then, there is one time outside of the studio we see him with uncovered arms and that’s the battle at the hotel.
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Here, he’s wearing gloves but his arms are exposed. So it could be said that he’s allowing himself access to more input while also not overwhelming himself. He still has a buffer with the gloves on, but he also has heightened awareness for things around him.
Again, the amount of this actually being applicable in canon is hard to say. Sense we don’t know how spidery Angel really is (since again, he does have a tongue) and what level of research went into that aspect of their character designs. But I think it’s a fun thing to consider.
So uhhh… yeah. Totally normal about this all as someone who totally isn’t interested in audiology, hyperfixating on hazbin hotel, and neurodivergent myself.
(Update: there is now a fic)
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