#it’s not perfect but it’s my first attempt at something so intricate so I’m really proud of it!!!

[rriavian]

You mentioned in a recent ask how one of the things you loved about Corintheus is the balance of the ship. Could you tell me more about this? It's something I've never really associated with Corintheus and I'd love to know more.

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took so long to answer—I ended up writing far too much and had to wrangle it into something shorter. Also (as a general disclaimer) this is based on the show rather than the comics. When engaging with Corintheus as a ship I can definitely see why the idea of balance might not be something you’ve come across before!

I suppose the personal answer is that (for me) balance is what makes a ship fun.

I don’t think either of the two would be satisfied by someone who doesn’t match them, and as a reader/writer I’m not satisfied by that either.

I’ve answered a couple of asks about power dynamics and how I like to balance them (original here, part two here), but there are also other ways in which balance can be found within relationship dynamics. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about physical strength/power. In many ways I write Corintheus as a negotiation of balance, (though of course the Corinthian is going for dominance most of the time). In canon we see him fighting for agency, fighting for freedom from Dream and all of his rules, and to me that’s an attempt to balance the scales.

There’s an obvious, and unavoidable, power difference that impacts the relationship but there's also a hierarchical difference, further complicated by the creator/creation dynamic. In many ways Dream is always going to hold all the cards. But that’s a character quality not a relationship one (most characters interacting with Dream also face it) and, again, it’s what the Corinthian spent all of season one seeking to counteract.

So I don’t think he would want to stay in a relationship where he had no power…not when a lack of agency was why he rebelled in the first place.

But I also don’t think Dream is really the sort to use brutal (clumsy) shows of power in a relationship context. As the Corinthian’s king and creator, sure, Dream will be absolutely merciless when he needs to remind his creation of the rules. There’s a line though (exceptions made for fun little roleplays perhaps, but even then Dream is going to be far more careful with the Corinthian than the Corinthian would be with him).

A common theme in my writing is the Corinthian trying to push past his own limitations to balance the field with Dream, and Dream, in turn, allows him to choose the game they play but he doesn’t necessarily makes himself ‘weaker’. He sees it more as ensuring an interesting game of chess ;)

Of course this could just be me wrangling these dynamics to make it personally satisfying, but I always draw my characterisation from canon.

Even when provoked Dream rarely attacks with the full limit of his power, remains incredibly well controlled, pitches the exact amount of force required. To use one of my favourite examples—and also one where traditional ‘power’ isn’t what makes the difference—Dream does this against Lucifer. One could add that this is especially intricate as he takes what I write as the Corinthian’s usual place in this scenario; except here the obviously stronger opponent also sets the game, Lucifer can't quite commit to leveling the playing field, and yet Dream proves he knows exactly how to play because he still wins. Which is one of the things that makes his relationship with Lucifer so interesting.

The scenario in hell is a nice example of how balance isn’t guaranteed by giving one character a power boost, nor is it lost if one character is ‘weaker’ than the other. Lucifer was objectively where the power scale tipped, and yet I don’t think anyone who watched that scene could really say that Lucifer came out the victor. It’s a perfect illustration of how Dream sees/uses power, how he can manipulate an external perception of it.

(Not just the characters around him, but us as viewers, which is again something I’ve brought up before).

Ok so there was a whole point here about the Corinthian and Lucifer but it’s not really relevant (and I’ve already gone a little off topic!!) so I’m moving on…

So. If ‘power’ doesn’t always matter…where is the balance?

The Corinthian is intelligent, a hunter, made to be patient and calculating, and he has the sheer gall to use that against Dream. Yeah season one was mostly running, but when he stands his ground the Corinthian stands and fights. He pushes back—looks so personally hurt by Dream as he does so—and extrapolating that development into other scenarios is what started my Corintheus journey haha. I think those attributes—the stubbornness, the perhaps overabundance of intensity that is quite inhuman—are shared.

They are both nightmares: that part of Dream finds someone who can take it (and vice versa). It can be played out in a way that is healthy for them both. 

I think that’s what so often goes wrong with Dream in his canon relationships—he’s too much for those who’ve tried. I think I briefly referred to this in another ask. But anyway! When the Corinthian wants something he goes all in to get it; his freedom in the waking world, his refusal to deny himself, ravenous to taste it all. Applied to Dream himself it’s balance because of how intense Dream also is. I think Dream is insanely attracted to that—the attempt of it, the eternal dance of it—he doesn’t want to be forced into a box, he wants someone to meet him where he is and still he knows that doing so will be a constant fight.

This idea is a theme in Baiting the Trap, though the Corinthian is only starting to become aware of it.

It’s the Corinthian’s nature as a ‘dark mirror’, because a reflection is a thing of balance. He brings out the dark urges, the selfish ones, speaks to the nightmare in Dream that isn’t evil but can be misunderstood to be so. Nightmares are a big part of Dream that I don’t think many characters within the narrative accept, or see as a good thing, but it’s not a part of him that should change. I think the Corinthian can draw that out and play with it.

They can do all sorts of fucked up/imaginative things with each other as outlets for a shared nightmarish nature, finding pleasure in what others might balk at.

The Corinthian objects to Dream’s rules, to a perceived lack of agency, but still thinks he’s doing what he’s made for. He has a differing philosophy in how he wants to be a nightmare in the waking world. This desire for freedom/agency is another balancing tool—it challenges Dream’s duty (and what that makes the Corinthian’s duty)—giving Dream a stage to reaffirm/explore that part of himself. While giving Dream a forum to challenge right back so that the Corinthian can reaffirm/explore the same thing.

In the weirdest of ways, Dream is complimented by a partner who is both a subject of his kingdom and a sceptic of it. The Corinthian understands, is just as inhuman as Dream is, but shows utter disdain right to his face—doesn’t put role and duty first—is selfish enough to want just him and fuck everything else. 

The scene at the Convention was what inspired me to write for Corintheus. Mostly because of how it was framed. As opposed to the meeting in ep one it’s a very different set up and that’s not really because of Rose. 

If anything the presence of a vortex should mean Dream zooms his way through this like ‘yeah that’s nice, but turn into sand now’ but instead he takes his time. He talks it out. They both have one half of the stage, opposite sides, opposite colour palettes, but there’s no game. They are both honest. It’s raw and real. And though it still ends in an unmaking it’s a very complex encounter. Yes it has the threat of duty hanging over it, but Dream is very clearly affected in a way he wasn’t when he punished Gault. 

Wow this is getting long. This is so complex for me that I’ve written over 100k about it. I hope this makes sense though! 

The Corinthian gets to push the boundaries with Dream, to do what he’d never thought he could, what he could never do to anyone else. In the waking he finds victims not equals, those he’s supposed to teach, to prey on but who he can never fully let loose on. No worthy opponent (no worthy lover). But Dream can be fought forever, is an incredibly powerful being that can be enjoyed past the limit, and oh does the predator in the Corinthian enjoy that. It’s the right kind of bittersweet because victory is impossible sure (balance in that too!) but there’s fun in it.

The sort that suits two immortal beings. It’s a meal that the Corinthian can never finish. It’s balance because he is never going to stop, and Dream is never going to move an inch.

It’s insatiable appetite vs an infinite feast.

#corintheus #dream of the endless #the corinthian #ship meta #character analysis #as always i could say more #thank you for your patience! #I hope this was interesting #let me know if you have another question <3 #rria writes meta

[kimakento]

“it’s complicated”

synopsis: (complicated) — adjective; something involving many different and confusing aspects. that somehow was the perfect word to describe your and junki’s relationship and you were sick of it. ⌙ 1.4k

pairing: konojunki x fem!reader

genre: angst

warnings: swearing, both reader and junki are a tad bit mean.

author’s note: this is my gift to you for the new year!! ngl the ending is a bit ambiguous, you can believe junki likes reader and is just avoiding his feelings, or that he’s playing with her feelings wtv 😓 but anyways like always, i hope you all enjoy :D

several sighs of annoyance escaped his mouth as you dragged him to the roof of the campus building—some louder than the others. the afternoon sun scattered it’s rays, yet it felt quite cold. however, the sun’s deceiving nature was the least of your worries.

you knew you definitely should’ve planned ahead, your teeth chattered at the biting weather. in an attempt to warm yourself, you wrapped your arms around your body, shivering in the chilly breeze but as if right on cue, this prompted junki to remove his jacket and place it neatly around your shoulders. after a small mutter of thanks and a smile you decided to get to the point.

in one breath you spoke, “i like you, jun.” his eyes widened at your sudden confession. with his fists balled, junki fixed his half-lidded gaze on you. at first, it could’ve been a staring contest between the two of you, but you could swear you could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the distance, counting all the seconds that you were left without a reply; almost taunting you.

junki had begun to avoid your piercing gaze, choosing to mentally dissect and process the intricate patterns of the coarse floor beneath him. “i’m sorry. i don’t feel that way about you, you’re just a close friend to me.”

you felt oh so many different emotions right now, were you reading all the signs wrong? collecting what was left of your diminishing courage, you voiced your thoughts aloud.

“what were all those mixed signals then? you constantly asking to hold my hand, your clinginess, the way you look at me, those late night calls and texts. please, tell me i’m wrong.”

your frustration seeped through your words and spoke volumes to junki. it was now your turn to ball your fists, so hard it left prominent crescent-shaped nail marks on your palms. furrowing your brow, you tapped your foot impatiently.

the man’s emotions became utterly apparent with every breath, he seemed confused. “you’re wrong, i don’t like you. i do that with all my friends.”

one specific memory weighed heavy on your mind; one where you were sitting with him, and in a sudden fell swoop he decided to bridge the gap between you both to lock your lips in a soft kiss. it felt so right then, how he held your face so gently, you’d think it was because he was afraid he might hurt you.

that seemingly magical moment immediately came to a halt when you both pulled away and a regretful glint flashed in his eyes. that happened two weeks ago and he’s chosen to never bring it up. as you began to sink deeper into thought, you were brought back by junki clearing his throat. and you rue ever bringing this up, you should’ve known.

the december winds decided to blow heavy breezes towards the both of you. you’d agree it was truly reflective of the inner turmoil playing out. as you struggled to keep your feelings at bay, the breeze intensified little by little, and instead you blurted it out.

“and that kiss? what were you trying to do with that, was that all deliberate?” you yearned for a positive reply back, where he’d reassure you and say he felt the same. you waited and waited….and waited. yet that moment seemed to be distancing itself from your grip with each fleeting second.

with a heavy heart, junki needed wanted to do that, but he couldn’t find it in himself. he was uncertain in his feelings, did he really like you? it was probably just the result of overbearing tension. the feeling of a relationship with you — or even anything of the sort seemed too tangible for him. too real, and he didn’t do real.

so junki settled for pushing you away, he would rather not wear his fragile heart on his easily accessible sleeve. instead, he chose what he deemed the best approach—avoidance.

“it’s complicated.”

that word seemed to mock you by repeating in your mind over again and again like a broken record. ‘complicated’, the eleven letter word that could describe your relationship with junki right to a t.

shoulders slumped, you chose to stare beyond the ledge you both were on in retaliation. the pure snow collected around the area, painting every single thing white. trees were adorned with fragile snowflakes, the ground was untouched; the type that would leave a crunch under your foot after every step. it was a serene sight, very much unlike the situation you were in.

“complicated? i don’t understand you, at all,” each word from you created a puff of warm air that escaped your freezing lips, swirling into a misty cloud. it hung in the atmosphere for a moment, before being whisked away by the cold winds. “you’re always hot or cold with me, junki. it’s getting unbearable, i can’t stand this!”

one day he’d cling onto you for hours, the next he’d be distant and flat-out ignore you; you longed to understand his actions. now demanding to know why, but getting no reply hurt you even more.

at last, junki retorted, “for the last time, i don’t like you. i don’t get it,” his voice was stern, advocating for the true anger he felt right now. “why the fuck are you so persistent? i’m not going to magically have feelings for you the more you ask.”

as you hesitantly reached out to intertwine your hands, he took a step back, which meant your cold-numbed fingertips only brushed a tiny part of his crumpled shirt.

it wouldn’t take long now. you retracted your hands sullenly and promptly glanced at it. another person would probably think that you had the plague with the way junki was avoiding your touch. it’s laughable, how you’ve put your all into this, how you even cared so much even after being played with, how you’re behaving in this situation.

is this what love felt like? settling for less? not even noticing that the one you loved walked a little faster and left you behind? did he even go as far to kiss you with someone else in mind?

you weren’t one to easily let go of something you had been attached to.

a grimace consumed your features and you ground your teeth, “are you being for real, kono junki? don’t bullshit me, is this all a game to you? playing with my feelings?”

you felt that inside you was a ticking time-bomb, and that it wouldn’t be long until you reached your limit. slowly, you inhaled one breath to centre yourself, and then another.

“it’s not my fault you’re being needy and making a big deal about normal things friends do for each other.”

fuck this. you thought.

you raised your hand, delivering a slap to his left cheek. almost immediately, he glared at you and the stinging sensation resulted in him clutching the red mark.

he raggedly breathed out as you pointed a finger at him, “you don’t deserve me and i hope you know that you’re a shitty person,” you took one single step closer. “here’s your jacket back. i won’t need it.” the once snug jacket fell off your shoulders as you grabbed it in one hand and left it in his hand.

giving him a tight-lipped smile and muttering curses under your breath, you walked away while making sure your footsteps were deliberately slow. they became the only source of noise in the telling silence. and every step meant one memory with him being lost. the rusted roof door ahead of you creaked as you twisted the handle to open it.

slamming the door on the way out, your head fell against it and the tears started falling uncontrollably. you crouched down for a while and placed your head in your hands and tried to wipe your tears.

save your tears for someone who’s worth it. you thought—more like you tried to persuade yourself.

but you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore, it pained you to be something with junki, but you felt it was worse to be nothing with him. perhaps you’d let him break your heart again.

taglist: @turtledove824

#jo1 angst #jo1 x reader #jo1 #kono junki #junki x reader #kono junki x reader #angst #kimakento writes #kimakento

[thesleepyknitter]

First quilt block of the ~Space Quilt~

Pattern is Framed Folk by Modernly Morgan

#it’s not perfect but it’s my first attempt at something so intricate so I’m really proud of it!!! #also the fabrics for these quilt spark SO MUCH joy #space quilt #quilting #quilt #quilters #craftblr #crafters of tumblr #sewing #stitching #framed folk quilt #quilt blocks #work in progress

[bunbunpawz]

How To Dress Jirai Kei

Hello,  I’m going to attempt to explain the simpler, basic outfits you can try for Jirai Kei. I hope this will be helpful!

First, the most classic way to wear jirai kei! Black+ pink, A black or pink blouse with the opposite color skirt. The more intricate and beautiful it is the better but do not feel pressure to search for the more detailed clothes, Simpler clothes will work too if the color are correct. Just make sure the blouse is on the fancier side, as for the skirt it can be plain.  

The black skirt, pink blouse and big bow  look is very classic. Especially decorated with the iconic twin-tail hair style! I love how this person used a watch to replace the Jirai Kei, menhera bracelet, very cute.  

If you don’t like Pink that’s fine!  A black and white outfit is also very classic Jirai. In this photo you can also see the new “Jirai” styled shorts. 

Dusky pink is the most common “color” to have, but is not the only color you can use. Darker pinks, Reds, Purple and dusky gray blues are also very common in Jirai Kei.

A single solid color is also very common!  if it’s all black it’s already Jirai! if it’s pink or any other color, usually pairing it with Black and other aspects of Jirai kei tend to make it more recognizable as the fashion.

Skirts and dresses don’t have rules for length. But the shape of the skirt can change the vibe.  Puffy dresses are a girls dream, but you might want to put them aside for this fashion. More closer fit dresses and skirts, pencil skirts, and gentle A-lines are common for the fashion, as it’s a more mature fashion.

Patterns exist in Jirai kei, not so much prints but they have been trying to include those lately. The patterns tend to be checkered, lined or any simple design that will look good in black and white or gray.

Those patterns can be used on the skirt or blouse. And sometimes it comes in colors, like blue or pink.  Brown isn’t really a color used in Jirai Kei, but I have seen some really good outfits in brown too.

Some examples

More examples 

If you’re not super girly, or like skirts or dresses, there is an option to wear an oversized big shirt with a print on it, usually it’s a bear print and distorted. Here’s an example with just cute colorful bears and no negative aspects. Paired with the classic Jirai Kei back pack.

Repetitive patterns oversized T-shirts or button downs are very common! Jackets tend to have this pattern too. Bears seem to be a big theme...

Examples

As for jackets, oversized soft jackets tend to be the trend, in any color that suits the outfit. White, Pink and Black tend to be the obvious trends.

They tend to be soft, so no puffer.

Another option is an oversized Listen Flavor patterned jackets, for a similar vibe as a patterned shirt. They’re usually decorated with bears or some other cute illustration. It doesn’t have to be Listen Flavor but it’s the easiest place to find them.

As for shoes, platform loafers or platformed shoes tend to be the most common shoes. I’ve seen variations of shoes but something similar to this vibe would be perfect. I myself am very tall for my country (not so much in Europe or America) so I prefer to not wear platforms, instead I just wear similar styled flat shoes.

MCM light pink backpack is Iconic for Jirai Kei. Even if you don’t have any other clothes or Items that suit Jirai Kei, this bag will will transform any outfit to look Jirai Kei!

Size varies based on your needs, preference and ability to afford. Light pink tends to be the most Iconic color but other colors work too. I cannot afford one of these, so I bought a fake. Sadly even fakes aren’t sold here, luckily I found a bubblegum pink one and I’m happy with it despite being the wrong color.

If you don’t fancy pink, there are other options. Black, White and even Red are very common too!

If you can’t afford or find an MCM backpack don’t worry! Any other backpack with a similar vibe will work just fine.

The other most common bag is this Maison de FLEUR tote bag.

If none of those are to your liking, that is still okay!  Any purse will work, as long as it’s in the right colors or at least the classic black.

Hair pins. A single Sanrio Hair Pin on your bangs or hair will make any look more Jirai Kei.

Ribbon Ribbon Ribbon! Everywhere! on your hair! on your clothes! even on your shoes. It will spice up your look and make it look more Jirai Kei.

Strong Zero, an alcoholic drink that has become an accessory.

So has pink monster! Specifically Pipline Punch.

Anything brand, even if it’s fake. Showing off you have money is part of the fashion. Sitting down like that, is the most common pose for pictures, it makes you seem small and cute~ Another common pose is to show off that you are drunk (because of strong zero!) so you stumble down the stairs or crash on the floor. 

As for hair, Twin tails, colored hair, girly styles, streaks, warm colors, (pink, red, purple) and hair down tend to be the most common. Some people bleach their hair a beige blond. Another thing this girl is showing off is the vivienne westwood necklace that has taken a strong come back in this fashion.

Fashion change and evolve all the time, so some things might not be accurate or change with time. As for right now these are the more common and classic easy ways to wear Jirai Kei. I hope this was useful and helpful to someone! Good Luck~!  Feel free to ask me any questions about the fashion and I’ll try to answer to my best abilities! thank you for reading.

#Jiraikei #jirai kei #menhera #jfashion #altfashion #fashion #japanese #japanese trend #kawaii #girly kei #girly fashion #girly #MCM #listen flavor #landmine #anime #pink

[cinnamonest]

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

----------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away. 

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over. 

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart. 

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

[blu-joons]

Colouring His Tattoos ~ Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook’s tattoos had always been a part of him that fascinated you greatly. As you woke up that morning and noticed that the sleeve of his shirt had ridden up, exposing many of the pieces of art that he wore, your hand naturally began to reach out.

He was yet to wake as the tip of your finger began to delicately trace along the tattoos that covered his wrist and hand, which held on tightly to the duvet. The sensation of your skin against his was soon something that began to make Jungkook stir however, a smile arising on his face as soon as his eyes opened.

The smile that you wore whenever you traced along his tattoos always caused his heart to flutter, watching as you tried to peek through the hair that had fallen in front of your face overnight brought a gentle giggle out of him.

The noise made you jump as you looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you, wide awake, with a grin etched across his face. Your hand slipped away from his wrist as you moved your hands to rest against his shoulders, leaning closer towards him to greet him with a kiss against his cheek.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teased.

Your head nodded, instantly feeling your cheeks begin to light up. “I just can’t help myself, it’s such a relaxing thing to do, so many intricate details that I can’t risk missing a single one of them.”

“Maybe rather than trace them, you could try something else,” he suggested, kissing against the top of your head. “We could always try colouring them instead?”

Your head tilted up to stare at him, unable to stop the smile from growing on your face. “That would be pretty cool, I’ve always thought about what your tattoos would look like if they had a bit of colour to them.”

“I’m sure I’ve got some pens lying around somewhere in here with my art stuff.”

His arms unwrapped from around you, walking over to one of his dressing tables, pulling out the drawer that had all of his art supplies in. “Make sure you don’t pick up anything permanent,” you warned as he began to scour through, “management will not be impressed.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some felt tips somewhere.”

You continued to watch him closely, as he pulled out a metal tin, carrying it over to the bed. You sat yourself up as Jungkook slid back underneath the duvet, tipping the contents of the tin into your lap to look through.

“There’s so many colours,” you grinned, taking his arm and rolling up the sleeve of his pyjama shirt so that you had as many of his tattoos exposed as possible.

Jungkook shuffled closer in anticipation, “see what colours you like. We can always do this again and see if there’s some better colour combinations we could use.”

“This is going to be so fun,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as you looked down and tried to figure out which colours you wanted to try first. “Can I just do whatever?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook assured you, “I’ve got every confidence in you so just do whatever feels natural, I’m sure I’ll love it anyway knowing that you’re the one who’s designed it,” he grinned, as you rolled your eyes back at him.

Your hand reached out and picked up the purple pen first, turning his hand so that you could get to the logo that he had on the side of his hand.

“There’s only one place that I can really start.”

“A true army,” he sniggered, as you popped the lid off the pen and began to colour it in. Your touch was still as soft as ever, enough to bring a nervous giggle out of Jungkook at the sensation of the pen brushing against his skin, tickling him ever so softly.

Your head could only shake at the way his nose scrunched up at how feathery the feeling of the pen was along such a sensitive part of his skin. Whilst he giggled away, you carefully coloured in the logo perfectly, making sure that you didn’t go out of the lines of his tattoo once.

“I think you should get more tattoos just so I can do this more often,” you spoke up as you moved onto his eye next, deepening the shade of red that he already wore. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently about other tattoos you could maybe get one day.”

“I didn’t realise you gave my tattoos so much thought,” he admitted, turning his arm as you guided it so that you could colour where you wanted. “There have been a few ideas springing to mind recently about other things I could get. I really want to get something significant again, with a lot of meaning.”

Your head nodded as his eyes studied the concentration in your face, “what sort of thing would you want to represent in a tattoo?”

“I was thinking maybe you.”

You instantly stopped colouring, turning your head to look at him with wide eyes. “You’ve been thinking about getting something for me? Really?”

Jungkook didn’t reply, too excited by the idea to really express to you how he felt. Without you knowing, he’d had plenty of thoughts about tattoos that he could get for you. His scrapbook was already filled, kept a secret so you couldn’t see how keen he was by the idea.

As you turned back to colouring in his tattoo, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of a tattoo dedicated to you too. You knew how important each of his tattoos was, slightly surprised that you meant enough to him too to join the others he already had.

“Loads of people keep telling me that we should look at a couples tattoo,” he suddenly spoke up once you’d finished colouring in his eye, “have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

Your eyes met his once again, “it’s not something that I would say no to, if it was the right one.”

“So, you’d look into getting one with me?” He asked, resting his hands against your legs as you placed the pen back into your lap. “Because I’m sure there’s plenty of ideas that we could look at getting together, I’ve always thought couple’s tattoos were such a romantic thing to get together.”

“I’ll think about it,” you chuckled, “I don’t want you to get yourself too excited just yet.”

“Sorry,” he blushed, “I know it’s a big deal, but I just feel like you’re always going to be a part of my life, so why not get something on my body that too will always be a part of my life.”

Your head shook at how giddy he became, brushing your hand through his hair in an attempt to try and calm him down. “I said I’ll think about it,” you reminded him as his head nodded.

As you continued to colour through some more of his tattoos, light giggles continued to escape from him as he thought about all the things that he could get. Even if you chose not to, his mind was made up, he wanted a tattoo, just for you.

“Draw something,” he suddenly whispered, “whatever you draw I’ll get it tattooed into my sleeve.”

“Are you serious?” You doubtfully quizzed.

“Why not? At least that way I’ll have an extra special tattoo, just for you,” he smiled, “whatever springs to mind.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” you frowned.

“Not when I trust in you, I know you’ll create something perfect for me.”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts jungkook #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook reaction #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #bangtan sonyeodan #bangtan #kpop #kpop imagine

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

-

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

-

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 8

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,500+

⚠️Warning⚠️: Slight Mature Content

Masterlist

————————

Blue. Everything was blue.

From the bubbles you exhaled to the sun streaming through the window. It was all blue.

Even though you’ve been staying here for about a week, you still couldn’t get used to waking up like this. Underwater. Trapped in a fairytale-like world.

Was this how Triton felt adjusting to the human realm?

“Mom?” As if summoned by your thoughts, you felt Triton shift in bed next to you. The mattress slightly caving in as the young boy cuddled close to your side. “You okay?”

“…yeah.”

You shouldn’t be the one asking me that, you can’t help but think. After all that happened last night, Triton should be the one more shaken up.

…What has this young boy gone through?

Gently, you reach down and run one of your hands through Triton’s hair. It’s silky and soft texture felt ethereal in the water-like environment. Like as if it was threads of gold tediously woven slowly by hand.

“Mom….?” Your hand pauses as Triton lifts his head to look at you. Blue… It must be because you two were underwater but Triton’s eyes were a striking bright blue today. Unlike their usual pale grayish version. Seems like everything would truly be covered in blue while you were here, “Are you sure you—“

“My, oh my. This is unexpected.”

At the sudden new voice, you jolt out of bed. It seemed like you couldn’t even get a bit of peace for a second in the place. However, as you take in the figure that was at the door you soon pause.

A butler? A human looking one at that. Was he perhaps a siren or mermaid? But he also had no tail…

“Hermes!” You feel yourself choke slightly at what Triton shouts. Hermes? As in the Messenger god? He looked nothing at all like the mythology books.

“Good day, Master Triton.” Hermes greets as Triton comes crawling out of bed and up to him. As you watch Triton start telling Hermes a story about something, you see Hermes' gaze shift from the young boy in front of him to you. Red… You are cut off guard as you notice Hermes’ eyes were a surprising color of scarlet red. As in the most ripe apples and cherries or that of a deep red ruby. However that wasn’t what entranced you the most. No, it was the unusual spider web irises that accompanied those pits of red.

“By the way, What brings you here, Hermes?” Thankfully at Triton’s question, Hermes' gaze turns away from you. Allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You weren’t sure what it was but for some reason you felt like you had to be careful around him.

Hesitantly, you pull the covers off of your form and make your way out of bed next to Triton. You didn’t want to get closer to Hermes but you also didn’t want Triton to be left alone with the young man. Who knows what the god could be up to, “Master Zeus wanted me to return a special package to you.”

“A package?”

Nervously, you let out a small gulp as Hermes disappears back into the hallway to grab the mysterious “package”. Should you make a run for it? After all, it could possibly be dangerous. He could—

“Here it is.”

“Ack!” You can’t help but let out once you see what Hermes is holding in his arms. Did Zeus really order Hermes to go all the way to the mortal realm to grab that?

“Alexander the Great!” Triton cheers out as he grabs the ginormous king turtle from Hermes. Clearly happy to be reunited with his trusty stuffed animal. “Oh! I know the perfect spot to put you.”

You watch as Triton races across the room to a corner filled with fluffy pillows and blankets. Even here it seemed he built those nest-like beds. You wondered where he got such a thing from.

“Now, My Lady…”  Startled by the warm breath on the shell of your ear, you feel yourself freeze before shakily turning to look at Hermes standing close next to you, “I have a package from Zeus for you as well.”

“O-Oh really…?” You hesitantly say as you take a step away from the god. Was personal space not a thing for them?

“Yes, now if you would follow me.” Hermes states, gesturing to the door.

“Thank you but I’m going to grab it later. I want to stay with Triton for now.”

“Oh but my Lady. I insist.”

“I’m really fin—“ You are cut off as Hermes places his hands around your waist and proceeds to carry you out of the room. He was so fast you hardly had time to blink or even realize what he had done.

“We will be right back, Master Triton.” Hermes shouts out to the young boy as he leaves the room and makes his way into the hallway. Finally able to realize what is going on, you grab at Hermes’ hands on your waist. Futility attempting to get him to let go of you.

“Hey! Let go of me.” You shout out to the god. However, the only thing you got was a curious eyebrow raise in return.

“Oh.” Hermes let out as if suddenly realizing something. Interested you pause at your fighting, only to soon regret it as you see a dangerous gleam in his eyes. As if a mischievous plan was forming in his head, “I apologize My Lady, I wasn’t thinking. You must be used to the way Master Poseidon holds you.”

“H-Hey—EEepp.”

Instantly, in pure terror, you grab onto Hermes shoulders as he throws you lightly up in the air. Thankfully, you didn’t squeal too hard as you had already known what he was possibly referring to about how ‘Poseidon holds you’.

“Now, is this more comfortable, My Lady?” Hermes asks as he holds you bridal style in his arms. What in the world was with gods and their need to hold Humans, or possibly lesser beings, this way?

Now embarrassed, especially at how the maids and servants whisper to each other as you two walk by, you give up the need to fight Hermes. Knowing there was no chance in hell you would be able to get away anyways with how strong he was compared to you.

“Lord Hermes—“

“Please, just call me Hermes.” The messenger god states cheerfully as he cuts you off. As if he totally didn’t just kidnap you.

After letting out a small sigh in frustration, you continue, “Alright, Hermes. Where are you taking me?”

“Just to the main foyer, My Lady.”

At Hermes' simple minded answer, you feel your eyebrow twitch slightly. If you weren’t already afraid of the god, you bet you would have smacked that smug look off his face by now. You could clearly see now how Hermes was the Son of Zeus, “Okay… So, Why are you taking me there?”

“To meet someone special that Master Zeus invited.”

.

..

…

You swore to god.

“Who is that special someone?” You state, making sure to emphasize on your question this time. As if sensing your frustration, Hermes, clearly pleased with your reaction, smiles slightly.

“Scylla. You are meeting Lady Scylla.”

“…Scylla…?”

You feel yourself pause at the name, an odd sense of familiarity blooming in your brain. You had definitely heard that name before but… where….?

“Scylla, as in Scylla and Charybdis.” Hermes explains, his smile growing wider as he takes in the confused look on your face. As you ponder the second name, it finally hits you about why it had all sounded so familiar.

Scylla was a legendary monster in Greek mythology that lived on one side of a narrow channel of water, opposite to her counterpart Charybdis.

Scylla's description varied from tale to tale but she was often described as a female monstrosity. Her lower body consisted of six serpent-like heads on long snaky necks, each head having a triple row of shark-like teeth. Then, on her stomach were the heads of ferocious dogs.

However, it wasn’t her appearance or the fact that she was a monster that startled you the most. No.

Scylla wasn’t always a monster. No, she used to be a nymph. There are two tales that explained as to why Scylla was turned into a monster in the first place. One of them being, as well as the most frightening one to you, was that…

…Amphitrite was jealous of Scylla.

“W-why am I meeting with Scylla?” You questioned outloud to Hermes. Whose grin only seemed to grow once you asked him.

“Pardon me but it is much more fun if you find out yourself.” Hermes explained casually as he stops in front of a room. He wasn’t…

“Wait—“

“Have a fun time, My Lady.”

And with that, Hermes proceeded to shove you in the room and close the doors behind you. That bastard… you knew you shouldn’t trust him.

“Are you Lady (y/n)?”

Freezing, you look across the room in the direction of the voice. There was no doubt that it was Scylla. But,…

You find yourself pausing as you gaze down at her abdomen.

“Pomeranians?” Instantly, after the word slips out, you cover your mouth. Great going there, (y/n).

Though, it wasn’t just the fact that the supposed ‘ferocious dogs’ were sophisticated Pomeranian that caught you off guard. The lady, well ex-nymph, before you looked about in her late 50s and was dressed quite modestly. Yet also very sophisticated.

“Yes, they are Pomeranians.” Scylla answers, seeming to take a pause as she sips from her teacup before continuing, “Now, as I asked before, Are you Lady (y/n)?”

“Oh, I apologize. I am Lady (y/n).” You answer back, not missing how Scylla eyebrows slightly twitch.

“…It seems I have a lot of work…” You hear Scylla mumble lightly under her breath as she proceeds to shake her head. What was she talking about?

“…Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. Please take a seat, Lady (y/n).”

Carefully, you make your way across the room to sit at the table. As you do so, you don’t miss the chance to notice how extravagant the room was. Not only was it made of marble and intricate gold carvings like the rest of Triton’s Manor but it also had a beautiful ceiling mural and, next to where the table that Scylla was sitting, a wall to wall and floor to ceiling grand window view.

As you take a seat down across from Scylla, you have to hold yourself back from gasping as you could now take in the full view. There were arrays of colorful Coral reefs and plants. Some that you have never ever seen, perhaps they only grew in the realm of the gods and were special in some way. However, it was past the Coral reefs that were placed outside the window that gained your interest. Far out in the horizon, stood what looked like a grand underwater city that looked fresh out of a futuristic sci-fi movie with its intricate buildings and colorful lights.

“Ahem.” At Scylla’s cough, you finally turn your attention back to the older woman, “I will now formally introduce myself. I am Scylla, a former nymph that worked for Lord Poseidon. As well as…

…Triton’s former Nanny.”

“I see.” You let out as you take in the information the woman has told you. It seemed like just how the other gods were different from mythology so was Scylla. But, you couldn’t write off anything about Scylla yet. You didn’t know her full intentions on accepting to come to see you here today. “Can I ask why you came to see me today, Lady Scylla?”

“Of course.” Scylla answers as she carefully places her teacup back down on its plate and looks at you, “I am not here to hurt you but rather to help you. My first duty in coming here is informing you about everything you need to know. From Master Triton’s childhood to Lady Amphitrite nature, I am hoping to tell you everything possibly important I have seen in over the millennia I have worked for the family.”

Now you understand why she was here. If you didn’t understand the inner workings or secrets of the family, it could honestly get you killed. And that could count for either Poseidon or Amphitrite. It also makes sense why Zeus specifically sent her as he still had the intentions of you replacing Amphitrite as Poseidon’s wife. So, knowing what makes Poseidon tic would be crucial.

“My second reason for coming here is to teach you the proper etiquette of the gods.”

You feel your thoughts come to a screeching halt at her statement, “Huh?”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Lady (y/n),” Scylla vocalizes as she shakes her head, “Since you are a human, you are considered at the bottom in our realm. If the citizens of Atlantis don’t like you, they will kill you. If you disrespect a god or goddess, they will kill you. If someone wants your spot on the throne, they will kill you. If you aren’t strong or smart enough, you will get killed. Respect, etiquette and knowledge are the three things that will keep you alive here…”

Scylla pauses as she looks around to make sure that no one was nearby to hear what she would say next.

“Lady (y/n).” Scylla starts as she surprisingly reaches across the table to hold your hands. “I know of Lord Zeus’ plan to make you the next queen. As a former Nymph, where my kind is often taken advantage of by gods just like humans, I beg of you. Do not. Follow. Zeus’. Plan. It will surely get you killed. To him, if you die, He will simply take another human or some other god to take your place. All he wants is Amphitrite off the throne.”

It wasn’t as if you already didn’t guess that from Zeus. You already knew, deep down in an unsettling feeling in your stomach, that he considered you lesser than himself. No matter how kind he seemed to act to you.

Also it wasn’t as if you were trying to seduce Poseidon or become the next queen in anyways. Your main objective, as it always had been, was to protect and care for Triton.

You are brought back to reality as Scylla lets go of your hands and stands up, “Come. We don’t have much time.”

“Right.” Instantly, you follow the older woman as she makes her way across the room. You didn’t know where she could possibly be going but followed her anyway. “A frame?”

You look curiously at, what you guessed to be, the decorative frame of a mirror. You had no idea why you two have specifically stopped here. Was the frame important in some way, like some sort of secretive family heirloom?

However, you soon doubt that previous guess of yours as suddenly, as if bent by Scylla’s mind and will, the inside of the mirror starts to glow. It continued to glow as the light slowly trickled to the rest of the mirror and once it was fully completed, Scylla moves out of the way and gestures to it.

“You want me to walk up to it?” You ask Scylla as you make a small step to the blinding mirror. Slowly as you grow closer, you reach out your hand to slightly graze its surface. Only to realize it wasn’t a surface at all. “W-Woah!”

You are caught off guard as you are suddenly pulled into the mirror by a great force. Hissing, your eyes stung by the ever so bright light. What is happening? You thought Scylla was going to explain to you about the family history. Could she possibly have lied and tricked you?

Amphitrite… Daughter of Nereus and Doris…

“W-Who goes there?” You shout out, startled by the booming voice. “Were you the one who pulled me in here?”

However, as if the voice couldn’t hear you, it continues it’s speech and you are suddenly placed into a white blank room.

One of 50 sisters, known as the Nereids…Amphitrite grew up as any other goddess…

An ancient stone wall suddenly appears right in front of you. It’s drawings and paintings seeming to depict the beautiful Nereids.

…However, that was far from the truth…

All of sudden the paintings come to life, some of the Nereids were killing and even poisoning their sisters.

…All of those sisters were filled with greed… greed to be ever so powerful like their father and it only seemed to grow when it was announced that Poseidon would choose one to be his queen…

The stone changes once more, completely wiped clean except for one lone woman in the center. A shining crown placed on her head.

…And Amphitrite came out on top. With most of her sisters dead or banished by her, she was now the lone survivor to gain all the power she desired…as the new goddess and queen of the sea…

…However,…Poseidon wasn’t how she expected….

You are startled as the full white room, even the ground you were standing on, changes. The room now taking on an elegant bedroom. A grand circle bed was placed in the center of the room. With Pillows and silk blankets scattered around in it.

A sudden loud creak catches your attention and you spin your head around. Caught off guard at who was in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” Poseidon's voice booms out as he glares daggers at you. His form no longer dressed in his usual attire but instead one made for bed.

“I-I—“ “You can’t possibly expect nothing to happen on our wedding night.”

Taking a step away from Poseidon, you turn and realize he wasn’t talking nor glaring at you. Instead, his piercing gaze was directed at a woman sitting on the bed. A simple yet sexy nightgown covering her form.

You have never seen her before with her long and deep colored scarlet hair, with her sea green eyes and pale clear skin. But you could at least guess who she was.

“Amphitrite. Leave.” Poseidon orders, as he turns away from the woman to shrug off his shirt, “I won’t be asking again.”

The woman only giggles in response, seeming not to take Poseidon’s threat seriously as she makes her way up to the male.

“Oh god—“ You can’t help but let out. Quickly covering your eyes as you see Amphitrite loosen her strap of her nightgown, causing the article of clothing to fall to the floor. What was the woman thinking?!

Even with your heart practically beating out of your ears, you hear Poseidon let out a deep sigh and the loud sound of heavy footsteps making their way past you. From what you guess, this was a memory of the past and the two couldn’t see you.

“W-Where are you going—“ Amphitrite voice is cut off as the door is shut with a loud bang. It is quiet for a moment. Yet it was only a moment. As soon afterwards, the loud banging and breaking sounds ring out around the room as Amphitrite takes her anger out on the area around her. “That fucking piece of shit!! I’ll show you—“

Amphitrite voice is once again cut off. Yet this time not by Poseidon but instead the blinding light as the voice changes the scene. Deeming it safe, you uncover your eyes and take in the new scene around you. You were no longer in Poseidon’s bedroom but seemed to still be in the palace. This time the bed was a simple queen one, it’s sheets covered in blood that scared you for a moment. That is until another item gains your attention.

A baby crib.

Amphitrite was furious about how she couldn’t get Poseidon to bend to her will. She believed that he should be groveling at her feet and craving for her affections…

…This only got worse after she found out she was pregnant with an heir that Poseidon didn’t care for….

Startled by what the voice was saying, you take a step towards the baby crib. That means this crib was…

You let out an audible gasp as you lean over the crib. An ever so familiar pair of pale blue eyes staring up at you. It was baby Triton.

Damn, you wished you had your phone on you to take a picture of this moment. He was just all too adorable.

At the pregnancy of the child, Amphitrite left it in the hands of a nanny. Not wanting to bother with a child that will only hold her back.

“Lord Poseidon. I beg of you, Please do not hurt—”

“Silence.”

That voice… Hastily, you make your way across the room to the door that was slightly ajar. Standing outside was Poseidon, a couple of his attendees and Scylla. Scylla, who seemed to be back when she was a nymph, was on her hands and knees, begging something out of the god.

“Tch.” Poseidon lets out, seeming annoyed. You freeze as you see the male grab his trident and make his way towards the door.

“Lord Poseidon, Pleas— Ack!” As Scylla tries to bring her head up and grab onto Poseidon to stop him but before she could do so an attendee stomps on her back. Stopping her in her tracks.

“Do not come in.”

You back away as Poseidon makes his way into the room, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t planning to…

You cover your ears as a loud screeching sound fills the room. It was coming from Poseidon’s trident as he drags the blade across the floor, Leaving long scratching indinents in the marble floor.

This is in the past, (y/n). You forcibly remind yourself as you watch Poseidon get closer to the crib. Triton is still alive, he’s not going to die here.

You freeze as the screeching sound stops and Poseidon lifts his trident. Uncovering your ears, you stare, mind boggled, at what happens next.

Poseidon… was whistling.

Was he attempting to soothe the baby before he killed it? What sort of Psycho was he—

“Ah! Stop!” You shout out as Poseidon’s trident comes barreling down towards the crib. He was going to actually kill—

Suddenly, Poseidon’s arm comes to a screeching halt.

“Bo ba ba booo.” Triton babbles away, seeming to attempt to imitate the song Poseidon had just whistled out.

.

..

…

“Tch.” Poseidon imbeds his trident in the marble before picking Trident up by the back of his onesie.

That’s not how you were supposed to carry a child! You could accidentally cause it to choke itself.

As you make your way closer to the two, worried about Triton’s safety, Poseidon once again whistles out. His gaze trained to the baby’s face.

“Boooo ba ba boo.” Triton lets out again, seeming to try his best to imitate Poseidon. Giggling slightly at the end as he reaches out towards his father and grabs a piece of Poseidon’s hair.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Poseidon mutters out as he brings his other hand up to Triton, the time adjusting his grip so that he was holding the baby by the armpits.

Poseidon whistles out once more. This time going slightly slower for the baby to listen.

Was this guy seriously attempting to teach a baby how to sing a song when he tried to kill it only seconds ago? Plus it was a baby for crying out loud.

“Hey! Get back here!”

The door comes flying open with a startling bang as Scylla trips her way into the room.

“I warned you!” Scylla screams out as the attendees' sword comes barreling down at her. However, thankfully, it never hits her. “L-Lord Poseidon-n…”

You cover your mouth as the attendee falls to the ground, his body separated in half by the trident Poseidon had just thrown.

“Silence.” Poseidon orders out to the rest of the attendees, who quickly release Scylla and back away. “You, Lady. Come here.”

“M-me?”

Scylla freezes as she sees the look Poseidon gives her. About how she should know better than to make him repeat himself. Frantically, she makes her way over to the two.

“What’s its name?” Poseidon asks Scylla. Who grows pale as she watches as Triton pulls at Poseidon’s hair. Yet, surprisingly, the god of the sea doesn’t flinch nor remove the annoyance, allowing the baby to continue what it was doing.

“I-uh. L-Lady Amphitrite never gave the child a name...”

Silence. You let out a small gulp as you anxiously take in the scene in front of you. Poseidon definitely wasn’t pleased with this development.

“Pardon me, M-My Lord. May I suggest something-g?” Scylla stutters out as she anxiously twiddles her thumbs. She seemed to be on the brink of collapsing from stress and anxiety.

“Speak.”

“Why…Why don’t you name the boy?”

Once again silence. However, it wasn’t as tense as the previous one. It seemed Poseidon was truly pondering Scylla’s suggestion.

“Triton.” Poseidon booms out. “His name will be Triton.”

“An E-Excellent choice, My Lord.” Scylla compliments. Yet, even though Poseidon accepted her suggestion, she didn’t seem pleased. “A-Another thing, My Lord. You aren’t supposed to hold a baby in that manner.”

“Huh?”

Quickly, Scylla attempts to cover her mistake, “I-I mean-n! You can hold the boy however you want. It just that isn't the most comfortable manner! You don’t have to listen to what I suggest. Please forgive me.”

You are surprised once more as Poseidon gives Scylla the baby. Seeming to tell her to show him how to hold Triton without wanting to ask. You have grown to notice that his pride seems to get in the way of things a lot of the time.

It eerily, in a way, reminded you of what happened last night when Poseidon listened to your own suggestion. Would he act in a fit of rage this time as well? Could this be how Scylla got—

“Bah!” Triton shouts out, startling you out of your thoughts. Currently, Poseidon was attempting to cradle Triton the way Scylla had shown him. The nanny fiddled with her fingers as she worriedly watched the two.

“Booo ba ba booo…. Boo boo boo boooo… boooo….” Triton babbles out, this time somewhat replicating the song accurately.

“Heh.”

Heh? You are startled at the sound Poseidon makes. Did he just laugh slightly?

Inching closer, you take in the look on Poseidon’s face as he looks down at Triton. As if his cold exterior had cracked ever so slightly, you could see a sliver of fondness in Poseidon’s cold blue eyes. A look that showed love for his newborn son.

…Yet, you thought Poseidon didn’t feel that way about Triton.

“My Lord.” Poseidon's fondness quickly disappears as he turns to look at Amphitrite who stood at the door. You could see an ever so slight smirk on her face. “I didn’t realize you wanted to visit our son. You should have told me, I would have come with you.”

Oh. Was it because…

“Zeus and Hera wanted to see the child.” Poseidon lies to Amphitrite as he gives the child back to Scylla. Seeming to believe her husband, Amphitrite's smile soon turns to a scowl.

“I see.” She bitterly spits out before walking away. Not wanting to stick around for any longer.

Once Amphitrite footsteps are no longer heard, Poseidon turns back to Scylla. Whispering in a low voice so that the attendees can’t hear.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time. Don’t be late and don’t tell anyone.”

With that Poseidon walks away, his attendees quickly chasing after him. As Scylla seems happy with the new found development, hugging Triton tightly to her chest as she showers him in praises, you… didn’t know what to think.

You…

…Couldn’t wrap your head around why your chest aches so much when you watch the two.

…What in the world happened between Triton and Poseidon that changed them…?

Author Note: Just in case people didn’t see my notice about this yesterday. I decided to split Ch. 8 into two parts, due to it revealing a lot of things. So the second part will be up tomorrow (Friday). If there is any confusion, please feel free to ask or comment. I will be checking my tumble a lot today since I know this is a crazy chapter.

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv #snv poseidon #bivalve

[lavandermin]

if all stars fell at once (1) | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 3k

genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic

warning | eventual smut

The memory comes clear as the crystalline waters at the harbor. That day when rain poured mercilessly upon the land— the boy in a mask whose body trembled under an invisible burden. You remember the dark splotches on his body being washed away by downpour.

Blood.

Polearm supporting his body as it heaved, his face slowly turned to face you as an ominous dark mist accumulated around him. And when you blinked, it was as if he was never there; replaced by rain.

Whether it was the haze of sleepless nights getting to you or reality, you still had yet to know. Curiosity was fresh in your mind. His presence… though brief, held immense power and a tainted aura; enough to instill fear in the hearts of any who witnessed them. But you stood there, unwavering and eyes alight with awe and curiosity despite the rain that hailed mercilessly around you.

Weeks continued, and the image of the boy remained somewhere in your subconscious. Days came and went as your mind remained hazed, clouded with the fleeting memory.

The dark clouds overhead brought in strong winds; a sign of a storm rolling in. The laundry hanging outside would surely be swept away at this rate. Quick on your feet, you hurriedly pulled them off the clotheslines. Yet despite your efforts, a couple handkerchiefs you had embroidered were blown away by a harsh gust of wind.

“Ah…!” Despite your attempt, the wind plucked them out of reach. All you could do was helplessly watch as they were carried by devious winds further down the mountain.

Those were for… Ah, I guess I’ll have to redo those, you pondered anxiously. If they were all to be delivered in 3 days, you would have to stay up fairly late just to finish replacing them.

The candle light cracked and flickered as night crept over Liyue. No use stalling. With a sullen crack of your neck, you shut the windows and got to work. The relentless rain was your sole company as you worked through embroidering the replacements well into the night. Despite the nimbleness of experienced hands, numbness settled in after hours of working tirelessly to replace the delicately embroidered handkerchiefs. And with patterns and threads so intricate, they weren’t something you could rush.

The moon came and went that night, having accompanied you behind the storming clouds as it rained and ceased. Yet, late the next day when you returned from running errands, there upon your open windowsill were two neatly folded handkerchiefs safely held in place by a beautiful stone. You examined them— with no doubt, the ones that were swept away.

And as a breeze picked up once more, you didn’t dare look back but hoped the wind would carry your words to the deserving.

“Thank you.”

:

.

.

That was the first time in over a millennia that Xiao was thanked by a mortal for one of his many silent deeds.

———

Soft colors of fading blue and powdery orange iced the sky with the setting sun. You reminisced past memories fondly as you picked a few herbs from your personal garden. The day was slowly dwindling to a lethargic end, but the land ceased to fall into rest to savor most of what the day had to offer.

“Do you remember that, Adeptus Xiao?” you asked with a fond smile. It was met with silence for a moment before a voice spoke up from the roof of your house.

“So, you knew I was here. Mortals truly are something I cannot understand,” he clicked his tongue, shifting to get comfortable where he rested comfortably on your roof. “Or perhaps, it’s that our ties are too strong. Curious…” He pondered to himself, brows slightly furrowed as he contemplated.

With a stretch of your back you stood up, basket in hand. “I know my grandmother’s home is rather quiet here in Qingce Village, so I’ve noticed the roof has become a favorite spot of yours,” you observed with a small shrug he couldn’t see. “Call it a hunch.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Xiao knew your guess was right. With your home tucked furthest away at the top of the village, there were seldom any onlookers in the tranquil area. A perfect, stress-free corner for him to visit.

With a huff and trained grace, he hopped off the roof on playful winds and followed you indoors. There was still a cautious air about him but never the same as when you first met him all those months ago.

It seemed like you understood him more than he understood you sometimes, and it puzzled him to no end. Mortals were usually more predictable; working in routine and habits as he had seen of the many centuries that passed. Or… at least he thought. It was no secret that he found mortals to be indecipherable.

In the small kitchen, he was presented with an enticing dish that you laid out; his favorite, no doubt. “Here. I’m heading out to the harbor to run some last minute errands, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like,” you reassured him with a smile. “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

At your genuine, radiant smile, Xiao couldn’t help but avert his gaze shyly. Truthfully, it always caught him off guard to be thanked for such trivial things that were somehow meaningful to you.

Before you reached the front door, Xiao called out after you. “If you are out late, summon me— call my name. I will guide you safely home.” With firm reassurance, he held your gaze under piercing amber. “Promise me this. Do not be reckless.”

There was no fighting the grin that lit up your face. “You worry for me, Adeptus?” you teasingly prodded, and placed a quick peck on his cheek. “How unexpectedly cute of you.”

At the gesture, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his composure returned. Pensively, he folded his arms across his chest, and you swore he could practically be pouting.

“The safety of Liyue is my duty as an adeptus. As a tool to be used, and nothing more.”

There was a brief sorrow reflected in your eyes, and before Xiao had a chance to address it, you were hurriedly giving your final goodbyes with your usual warm energy.

“I promise I’ll be safe.”

Left to himself, he accepted your gifted offering of almond tofu. I love the way your eyes practically sparkle when you take that first bite, you once teased.

The memory picked up the thrumming in his chest— uncertainty accompanied by rose-dusted cheeks.

With each delicate bite, his mind upheld more questions. The feelings that burst subtly in his chest— what were they? He searched his heart for answers to describe it. Peace of mind? Loneliness?

As many times as his mind decided to go through the same painful cycle of thoughts, ultimately he was left with more questions than when he started. There were no answers within him.

Such as the moon replaces the sun and the days dwindle into night, he too would let it be for now.

And as the sun slowly retreated more and more behind mountains and thin clouds, Xiao couldn’t help but wonder why he continued to keep near you. A tie foraged with a mortal that strangely did not instill the overwhelming need to leave.

Even the room he was in caused no discomfort or suffocation. The cycle started once again as he wondered, why? He often resided at Wangshu Inn, but never in a room. The rooftop high above any wandering souls was his claimed accommodation. The balcony just below that was seldom used by guests was the only other space he occupied there— eyes able to survey the land from a higher vantage point.

However, here in this small shelter you called home there was none of that, yet he stayed. Curiously, his eyes wandered the room to take in the oddities and trinkets that were used as decorum. The bookshelf across the room posed with great importance, and as he approached it he took in the vast collection of books and small items that decorated some empty sections.

Gloved fingers grazed over the elegant, gold-foil titles of some of the books. Some he has partially read before, or listened to you read aloud while he rested on your lap under the large tree outside.

He found himself plucking one out tentatively, flipping through some pages of a thick storybook with worn corners. Another book from the shelf— a thin book of floral poems and sonnets. His mind idly worked to put together what these books could possibly say about you.

After neatly putting another book away, a small glint caught his eyes. Toward the end of one of the shelf rows was a pile of three books with a precious stone sitting atop them.

Ah, the cor lapis stone he had used when he silently returned the two missing handkerchiefs to you many moons ago. An unknown feeling settled in his chest, warm & persistent. It flourished— euphoric, almost, and not too unpleasant. He wondered if it was somehow related to similar chest pains he’d dealt with. Could he really call it ‘pain’ if it wasn’t truly hurting him? The feeling was foreign and he was utterly clueless.

He moved the stone to check the book underneath, flipping through the pages curiously. Amber eyes indifferently skimmed through a page his finger landed on, curious to what contents the vague title held.

A romantic novel from the looks of it.

The words were needlessly descriptive, the dialogue a little confusing to understand. Such flowery language was a bit bold and the more he read, the more the imagery they tried to paint became vivid in his mind and—

Xiao quickly shut the book, his face warm as he neatly returned the book to its rightful place. Well, it was an interesting book to have in your possession, to say the least. He didn’t have much experience with what it described, but the erotic imagery the dialogue described still left his face a little flushed and brows furrowed as he huffed in indignance at his flustered state.

Mortals do such things? Well, he knew they did, but he was never one to look into it more since he had no reason to.

He had no experience in such intimate matters, nor did he pay much interest in them with his hands usually full on a daily basis. Yet, somehow the thought of you now caused a swirl of emotions inexperienced by him before. Or rather, if he did, he no longer remembered. New questions piled up in his mind.

He shook his head, practically wincing at the odd sensations that kicked him low in the gut as the heat rising high on his cheeks subsided.

“How bothersome,” Xiao muttered to himself with a sigh.

On that same train of thought, he glanced out the window. The sun was merely a whisper that remained as it tucked itself farther behind mountains and dipped below the horizon.

Gloved hands momentarily clenched by his sides, flexing to ease the small seed of doubt. Mortals were unpredictable and reckless, that much he was aware of. With a sigh he watched as the sky over Liyue settled into the tranquility of night.

Though night had fallen, there was still no sign of you returning.

And so, Xiao set off on his usual routine. Out he ventured to vanquish the scattered hotspots of evil activity that surfaced. Be it from subdued gods or his own karma, Xiao relentlessly made quick work of any and all evil.

It was his eternal duty, as bound by contract from the Geo Archon himself—this he knew. If anyone should have witnessed his swiftness as he worked solemnly, they would’ve noticed how he worked just a little harder to clear out any evil nearing your usual route home.

The moon rose high in the sky, a dusty blue as it cast soft light over Xiao’s masked form. His polearm jabbed into the ground and dissipated along with the yaksha mask he donned for battle. The roads that led back to Qingce Village were all cleared, yet still no sign of you.

Approaching the marsh under blue moonlight, his gloved hands created ripples in the calm surface. The reflection of his concerned eyes stared right back at him through the tumultuous ripples that distorted his reflection over playful waters.

Under the watchful eye of the moon, Xiao diligently washed away the impurities that remained on him from battle. Clear waters surrounding him became murky before clearing once again as the blood and grime was carried further down with the current. Xiao closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask under the moonlight, taking in the rare moment of tranquility.

And then it rang out, soft and clear like a wind chime dancing with the gentle breeze.

Adeptus Xiao.

Shrouded by darkness, he answered your summons. As the thin veil of dark entity surrounding him dispersed, he found himself next to a bridge. The waterfall behind him brought a refreshing breeze, and just beyond him he could see Bubu Pharmacy below as well as the harbor.

“You called,” Xiao inquired. “It’s fairly late.”

He wasn’t here to admonish you, though it sounded very much like it. With a playful grin, you smiled up at him from where you sat on the grass next to the bridge.

The way you carried yourself without a care in the world— it was almost endearing how you looked up at him with such fondness.

“Can I ask why you’re here of all places?”

Your nimble fingers continued their work on the flowers you had in your lap, and you almost looked away bashfully. “I wanted to gaze at the stars for a bit,” you admitted sheepishly. “I finished my errands earlier, but then I ran into Mister Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and, well… The conversation went on for a while and we ended up here.”

Silently, Xiao took a seat next to you, eyeing the handful of glaze lilies that softly glowed on your lap.

“What did you talk about?” he inquired to fill the silence. He delicately twirled one of the glaze lilies between his gloved fingers.

“Oh… this and that,” you shrugged.

Xiao hummed in response, not wanting to pry into the conversation, until he felt the softness of petals brushing his forehead.

“Mister Zhongli… he showed me how to make this.” There was hesitation in your downcast eyes, and you peered up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you like it?”

“A crown of… glaze lilies,” Xiao noted slowly. Their soft fragrance was delicate and sweet, like the gentle presence of the moon. It reminded him of you. “I’m unfamiliar with mortal customs of exchanges. Is it an adeptal offering?”

You blinked, taken by surprise at the question before sputtering out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh– No, no! This is what we call a gift.”

Xiao furrowed his brows, taking in this vague description. “Hm… I see. What meaning does this gift have?”

You perched your chin on your finger, contemplating. The only ‘gifts’ adepti were familiar with were the offerings that few who went before them brought. Usually, an offering entailed the bargaining of a mortal’s wants and desires to come true. Selfish, wishes he was all too familiar with hearing often.

“Gifts are given to people you consider special,” you started. “To those people who are important to you, usually you put extra effort into the gift. Handmade gifts as well… embody special significance since they hold all the feelings poured into them to be given to your special person.”

The chirps of crickets and running water soothed over the momentary silence as he took in your explanation. Mortal customs were more emotionally driven than he once thought.

“I see. Then,” Xiao delicately tucked the glaze lily he held into your hair. “This is my small offering.”

The rose that dusted your cheeks as your grin lit up your features, it bloomed his chest with that foreign warmth. The weight of reciprocating the gesture without a second thought— he had just openly admitted to considering you a special person. It felt… right.

In the lateness of the cool night, you both sat side by side looking out at the display of glittering stars. He felt as your pulse would briefly quicken under his gloved hand whenever you stole a quick glance at him, and he would offer a gentle squeeze of reassurance in response. Curious, this human next to him— and yet he found himself enraptured by your simple presence.

Across the endless sky, you halted what you were idly chatting about as a speckle of light shot across the sky.

“A falling star… There’s rumors that making a wish on them will help it come true.” Xiao hummed in response, eyes closed in peaceful tranquility. “Hm…”

You pulled your knees closer to you as you contemplated your wish. Xiao watched you with one eye open, observing the way your features subtly scrunched up as you profoundly debated within you what your wish would be.

“So.”

“So?”

“What did you wish for?” Xiao asked quietly.

Mortal desires were usually the same. Wealth, power, lavish items— these wishes Xiao had heard of many times before. Yet—

“I wished…,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly. “I wished for a restful sleep.”

Your cheeks were quick to flush a deep crimson as you heard what sounded like a chuckle next to you. It dawned on you that you had never heard Xiao laugh until now. It was melodic, innocent.

“D-Don’t laugh!” you halfheartedly admonished with a playful huff. “Well, then— What’s your wish, Xiao?”

He pondered for a moment, closed his eyes and spoke soft as the flitting breeze.

“I wish to get to know you better.”

Perhaps he didn’t have all the right words at that moment, but he was bound to discover them sooner or later. Somehow, he was sure you would be the light that guided him the right way to go about these foreign feelings— feelings he was sure weren’t malignant, so he allowed them to persist.

These unsorted feelings for you... they weren’t getting in the way of anything. They were harmless, until proven otherwise.

#xiao #xiao x reader #xiao/reader #genshin xiao #genshin #fluff #developing relationship #pwp #eventual smut #mostly xiao not knowing what he’s doing #zhongli #genshin impact #fic: iasfao #mii writes #I forget how to tag sorry it’s been a while #adeptus xiao #I’ll edit format later

[enbyprentiss]

PLEASE sub spence in a skirt wrapped in intricate rope and with a vibe up his ass I NEED THIS PLEASE

i got you, bb;)

Genre: Smut, obv

Pairing: Sub!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: anal play, handjob, shibari/rope play, praise kink(with some sly degradation), mommy kink (because would it really be my fic if there wasn’t a mommy kink), hair pulling, implied aftercare, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything!

--

Y/N really put her boyfriend to the test this week. And yes, he is a genius, so if it were any other kind of test he would pass with flying colors anyway. But when it came to things like these, he typically cracked under pressure. Everywhere they went, she made sure to assert her dominance over him in every minuscule way possible. Usually, it was just something as simple as carrying his bag or some extra books for him. Then, it was seizing any opportunity she had to physically tower over him, gripping and pulling his hips closer to hers anytime she walked past. And when she was feeling extra devilish, Y/N would steal kisses and lingering touches only to leave her poor little Spencer high and dry.

He knew the rules she had set up.

No touching or touching yourself, this whole week. If you can handle a week of little to no touching and absolutely no cumming, then you’ll be rewarded.

There were several times throughout the week where he considered going behind her back and break the rules. But he really wanted to be her good boy. He did love all of his ‘punishments’ but he knew that if he couldn’t handle this simple test, the punishment would be 10x worse. And Y/N fully expected Spencer to cave and just accept that he’s not a good boy. Sure, she was excited to deliver punishment, but she was even more excited to give her boy the reward he rightfully earned.

The case they were on had postponed Spencer's treat. So naturally, he was huffy and puffy the whole time. Containing it fairly well in front of the team and local officers, but falling apart the second he got into the hotel room with Y/N. Sitting in front of her, laying his head in her lap, whining and begging for just something small now. And after being reminded that she could take away his reward at any time, he decided to suck it up the best he could.

--

Spencer was practically jumping up and down watching Y/N unlock the door to their shared apartment. As soon as she'd turned the key, he burst through the door putting his bags down and unlacing his Converse at a record speed. Y/N couldn't help but watch in amusement as she discarded all of her extra things. When she saw the dopey look on Spencer's face she couldn't help but melt into his desires. She moved closer to him, lacing her fingers through some of his light brown locks, turning her head to the left, bumping their noses together briefly before melding their lips together. She lightly brushed her tongue against his lower lip, making him groan slightly into the kiss. She earned a long whine from him when she pulled away.

"Excited, baby?", she tucked a stray curl behind his ear as he nodded, "Use your words, honey."

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. Now, go into our room and get ready for me."

He scurried down the hall to their bedroom. Spencer stripped of all of his work attire, swapping it for just a lavender pleated skirt and mismatched thigh-highs. He sat on his knees, getting antsier and antsier as more time passed. After what felt like an eternity, Y/N came in beaming at him with a pleased smile.

"You look so pretty, baby. Such a sweet boy."

"Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"M-matching?", he stuttered out with a heavily present blush on his face.

"You want us to be matching?"

"Ye-yes, please."

She made it a point to reassure him, seeing that he was already fairly fuzzy before retrieving the same skirt and stockings that he had on. When Y/N returned, Spencer's eyes lit up with the extra goodies she had brought along with her. Choosing to save that sight for later, she sat next to him on the bed, connecting their lips again and muttering through kisses.

"Do you know why you're being rewarded?"

"Because--I-I didn't touch myself or cum all week."

"That's right. And actually, you went 10 whole days with no touching or cumming. You're such a good boy.", she raked her nails down his pale chest lightly, watching the way his cock twitched under his skirt from the praise, "Oh, you like that, don't you? Like hearing what a perfect boy you are for me?", she began palming him over the fabric.

"Mhmf! Yes, mommy. Wanna be so good for you--be your best boy!", he yelped as she flipped his skirt up, the cool air nipping at his skin."

"You are my best boy. So, I need you to get on your hands and knees ok?", he muttered a small 'Ok.' and did as he was told. Y/N coated her fingers in lube and rubbed them together attempting to warm it up before applying a generous amount to Spencer's entrance and the toy. She pressed the toy up against him, teasing him with it and then turning on the vibrations, earning a breathy moan. Remembering that this was indeed a reward, she gave up the teasing and pushed the toy fully into him as he moaned out shamelessly. She left the vibrations on the lowest setting, helping him sit fully on his knees, "Mommy's going to tie you up now, ok? Do you know your safe word?"

"Encyclopedia."

"Good.", she took one strand of the light pink rope, finding the ends first. She began tying intricate knots to create a double-column tie from ankle to thigh and then repeated the same actions on his other leg, creating a sort of 'frog tie' that left his legs spread just far enough, "Is that ok? Not too tight?"

"No, it's good, mommy.", as he finished his sentence, Y/N turned to the settings of the toy up higher, making his face contort and his exhales shaky.

"Does that feel good, baby?", she asked while planting soft kisses on his neck.

"Y-yes! Feels so good--ah!"

Y/N's hand traveled to flip the fabric of the skirt up and stroke his cock while she sucked bruises all the way down to his collar bone, "Made me so proud this week. I have such a good little slut.", she pumped her hand up and down faster as he struggled to buck his hips upward.

"Ah-ah-ah! Mommy! C-can I cum, please?!"

"Go ahead, baby. You can cum whenever you want."

"Oh! Thank you, mommy!"

Y/N spread around the white thick ropes that soiled his skirt, coating her fingers in it and putting them in Spencer's mouth as she upped the vibrations. His tummy tensed as he reached out for anywhere he could possibly touch Y/N while whining louder around her fingers from the overstimulation.

"Shh, it's alright. Do you want to stop?", she removed her fingers and smiled warmly at him.

"Not yet, please."

"Ok. Whatever you want. This is for you, for making me so proud of you, remember?"

He nodded, "W-will you--um pull on my hair, please?", his eyes scrunched and his teeth clamped back down onto his bottom lip as soon as the words escaped.

"Of course, sweet boy.", she grabbed a fistful of curls, pulling his head back slightly and leaving more searing bruises along his jaw and base of his throat. The combination of the two new feelings was enough to push him over the edge again, as he let out little moans and whimpers, his legs shaking slightly. Y/N, knowing her boy as well as she did, knew that that was all he could handle for now and turned the toy off. And now, she loosely combed through his luscious locks. Whispering little praises to him, "Did so well for me, darling. So proud of my boy. I'm going to untie you now, ok?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in worry at all the red burn-like marks that were left on his skin where the rope had been. On instinct, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and massaged it into his skin gently to help circulation, "Are you alright, baby?"

"Yes, mommy. Feels good.", he tacked the last part on much quieter.

"Such a dirty boy.", she cupped his face in her hands, "And in more way than one. How 'bout a shower?"

"Bath?"

"Even better.", she got up to start the tub.

"Y/N?"

"What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Spence."

—

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#spencer reid #dr. reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencr reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut fic #spencer reid smut fanfic #spencer reid smut fanfiction #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut fic #criminal minds smut fanfic #criminal minds smut fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut imagine #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom

[jadegrey711]

                         Roll Me, Like Your  Flour Dough

                               Baker!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! I decided I want to make something longer than a oneshot so this is my first attempt at a Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader series! The title and the inspiration for this came from that Tina Turner song and thus this story was born! I currently don’t know how long I’ll make this but hopefully I won’t get super self conscious about my writing and like give up on this one.  But, I’m super excited for this one and I really hope you guys all like it. 

This will eventually contain smut so this story is considered +18 so keep that in mind when you read. But other than that I decided to make something so incredibly fluffy lol. Header is made by me! But I don’t own any of the pictures. Just the story. 

Summary:  Reader is a travel nurse who is looking for a slower paced job away from the hustle and bustle of the emergency room and takes a residency in a small idylic town a few hours from Boston. Where she comes to mets new friends and an especially handsome baker named Steve Rogers.

*Also just know that while I may be a Nursing major I know very little about the travel nursing world and what all of it entails with the agencies so if I say something wrong if you want to correct me just please do it nicely* 

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711)

PART 1: The Arrival 

The listing was exactly the kind of posting you were looking for. It was a listing for a local clinic in a small town a few hours from Boston, looking for an RN who was willing to fill in at the clinic for the next five months. It would definitely be a change of pace for you and a mental break from the hustle and bustle of the ER. You were more than glad to exchange the gunshots wounds and car crashes for treating ear infections and broken wrists. 

As soon as you accepted the posting you emailed the leading physician there at the clinic who also seemed to be the owner, Dr. Sam Wilson. Who seemed to be the type of man with a bursting personality from what you gleaned over your email exchange. He let you know that he was more than happy to welcome you into their town and to his clinic and he gave you the number for the local realtor; Jimmy Woo who would help you find a place for the duration of your stay in town. 

After you finished up your emails with Dr. Wilson you immediately contacted Mr. Woo via email and your agency to get the matter of housing settled and then you were buying your ticket and would be flying out tomorrow morning to Boston.

As you packed you procrastinated a bit by looking up the town and scrolled through pictures of it. It was the idyllic perfect little town, maybe not so little but it definitely didn't have the occupancy of a major city. However as you continued to google the place, you also looked at the yelp reviews for most of the businesses and shops in town. It seemed like this town had everything, from a martial arts studio, a bookstore, a nursery and flower shop and the shop that had the most reviews and in fact the highest reviews was a bakery. 

“Star Spangled Bakery.” You murmured to yourself and browsed through their photos. You felt your jaw drop and your mouth water at the sight of all the pictures of the beautiful confections and sweets that were available at the shop. From donuts the size of your fist to beautifully decorated cakes with intricate patterns of icing, along with brownies absolutely oozing chocolate, petit fours, croissants and even photos of people holding their coffee since this place was also a cafe too. 

You scrolled to some of the reviews. 

“This place is heaven on earth! And there’s even a beautiful angel here too! ;)” 

“Hands down got to be the best bakery and cafe I have ever been to. Rogers never ceases to amaze!” 

“God just watching Steve knead dough alone is worth giving this place five stars but he’s also amazing at making anything you can dream up! Why is life so unfair!” 

You giggled to yourself as you kept scrolling through the reviews, obviously a lot of them were made by women who thought the owner of the place was attractive. 

You bit your lip and went to the bakeries website in search of a picture of the infamous Steve Rogers, but you pouted a bit when there was none to be found. Of course there were a hundred more of his amazing masterpieces and a short blurb about him and how he went off to Paris to train and came back home to put his new skills to use in his family’s bakery; but there was no picture of him. 

“Hmm.” you muttered to yourself and looked at the time on your phone, letting out a shriek at the fact that it was currently midnight and you just spent three hours googling this town and Steve Rogers along with the fact that you still hadn’t finished packing and your flight was in four hours. 

You ran to your closet and pulled out all your winter coats since you’d be there well into the new year and your sweaters for California’s “winter”, so weren't going to cut it in Massachusetts where they actually had winter. You felt yourself involuntarily shiver at the thought of snow and grabbed an extra jacket just to be safe. You ran around your house like a madwoman making sure that you had everything together and ready for when you had to get up in approximately two hours for your flight. 

***

Approximately two and a half hours later you were dressed and had already called an uber to take you to the airport. While you waited you did a quick double check of the two suitcases and carry on that had been your constant companions these past seven years of endless adventures. Then you took a look around your bare apartment, there was no trace of you here; nothing to signify that this place had been your home for the past five years. No photos or art on the walls, no little knick knacks, even your book shelves were practically bare, save for the medical books you’ve kept since college. It made everything easier that way though, not having to carry around that extra weight if you had to one day just up and go; everything that you owned could fit into three cardboard boxes. 

It wasn’t a sad thought to you, that was how you wanted it. How during the duration of the program seven years ago you dreamed of being always on the move, never putting down roots and experiencing all that life had to offer. What would've been sad is if you stayed in that stuffy little box you used to call your life, always knowing and feeling that there was so much more out there you wanted, needed to experience. And now, now you could experience everything and anything you wanted to, you had no strings on you and that was perfectly fine with you. 

When the uber arrived to take you to the airport you take one last look around your apartment and then grabbed your bags to head out into your newest adventure. 

***

You groaned as you cracked your back as you headed off the plane with the other passengers and towards baggage claim. 

You made quick work of grabbing your bags and managed to snag yourself a rental car before you plugged in the name of the clinic into google maps and started the long drive. 

*** 

It took you about two and half hours before you finally saw the big town sign, signalling that you had finally made it! It took another twenty minutes for you to actually reach the town and when you did you slowed your speed a little more than necessary but you wanted to take it all in. The first word that came to mind when you saw the place was; idyllic. 

It was like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting or an episode of Gilmore Girls with all the beautiful colors of autumn as its backdrop. As you weaved your way through the town, you saw most of the places that you were looking at online; you watched as people chatted and laughed as they entered the martial arts studio, holding bags with what you assumed would be the equipment they would use. Others were walking inside the flower shop, it’s front windows decorated to the nines with gorgeous window paintings of different flowers, there was even a bookshop here; which you made a personal note to visit as much as you can. 

And there was Star Spangled Bakery and with it apparently came a line of people out the door and around the corner just waiting to get inside. 

“Damn was it really that good?” You mumbled to yourself, and rounded the corner with your car heading towards the clinic. 

A five minute drive through town and you had finally made it. You pulled in one of the parking spaces in front of the clinic and got out, giving your back another crack before grabbing your purse and heading up the steps and inside. 

When you opened the door there was a small chime of a bell that sounded above your head. You walked further inside and saw a young black woman sitting at the front desk, you made your way over and smiled at her as she looked up and met your eyes. 

“Hello!” She said with a bright smile on her head. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

“Hi!” You said as you returned her smile with a bright one of her own. “And yes. I am the new nurse filling in here for the next few months, I’m looking for Dr. Wilson?”

“Oh my goodness yes!” She said excitedly as she got up from her seat and made her way around the desk to stand in front of you. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Shuri.” She said, holding out her hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Y/N.” you replied and eagerly shook her hand. 

“It’s so exciting to finally have someone new here! The nurse who was here before you, Jessica, left to go work in the big city and it’s been kind of lonely here with only myself, Dr. Wilson, and Dr. Foster. So it’s very exciting to have a new friend here to work with. And I just know that we will be fast friends.” She smiled. 

You let out a small chuckle. “I definitely think that we will be fast friends too, Shuri.” 

“I’m glad to hear you say that! I just know that you’ll fall in love with this place. It may be a small town but we are a few hours from Boston and we have some amazing shops that are major tourist attractions. My brother and his wife, Nakia own the martial arts studio here in town. Hey. How about after you and Dr. Wilson are introduced. I'll show you around the town?” 

“That would be amazing! I appreciate that Shuri.” You said, giving her an emphatic smile.  

“Yeah of course!” 

Suddenly, you heard one of the doors open down the hallway.

“Alright, Ms. Harkness. Everything looks great, your blood pressure was a bit high which I would like to be a bit lower. And you need to cut down on those sweets-” Dr. Wilson was soon cut off by the older woman walking out of the exam room behind him.

“As you said everything is fine and as for the sweets, I hope you aren’t trying to deny an old woman her pleasures, Sam.” Ms. Harkness said giving Dr. Wilson a soft but still stern look that meant she wasn’t going to hear anything else he said unless it was ‘good day’. 

Dr. Wilson gave her a dazzling white smile before nodding his head. “Alright, you have a good day, Ms. Harkness.” 

She patted his cheek, and returned his smile. “You too, Sam.” Before the old woman walked past you and Shuri; Shuri waving her out before she walked out of the clinic. 

“Sam!” Shuri smiled as he walked over to where you and Shuri were standing. As the good doctor walked towards you and Shuri you could finally take in the little details of him you couldn’t see when he was down the hall. Well, you could see he was tall and built but now you got to see the warmth in his eyes and that winning smile he showed both your and Shuri’s way. 

God damn this man just oozes charm. 

“Good morning, Shuri.” He greeted her, before his chocolate brown eyes met yours. 

“This is the new hire, her name is Y/N.” 

“Yes! Ms. Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” He smiled again and stuck his large hand out for you to shake. You quickly shook his hand, feeling it practically engulf yours. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Dr. Wilson.” You said feeling your cheeks warm. 

“Please call me Sam!” he said and you swore he just cranked his charm levels up to eleven. 

He took his hand back from your handshake. “Are you sure?” You questioned. Your years of training in both the actual medical practices and hospital etiquette refusing to call him by his first name. 

“Yes. I’m sure.” he chuckled. 

“Yeah. Only tourists who come in call him Dr. Wilson. Everyone knows everyone in this town and formality kind of went out the window maybe a year after Sam took over the practice from his dad.” Shuri chirped in. 

“Oh alright. Well it’s definitely going to be something to get used to.” You smirked. 

“I’m sure it will be a minor adjustment for you, after working with all the sooty doctors in the cities, am I right?” 

“You’re most definitely not wrong.” You chuckled. 

“Well now that introduction are out of the way. Can I interest you in a tour of the clinic? I think even Dr. Foster is lurking around somewhere. She’s our main OB on residence but she also does General practitioning.” 

“Yes! Of course I’d love a tour of the place.”

“Alright then, Shuri, are you going to pretend at the front desk or are you going to just join us for the tour.” Sam finished but Shuri had already beat him to the punch with the back in thirty minutes sign at the front desk and started walking behind us with a big smile on her face. 

***

The tour of the clinic took about an hour or so where Sam explained your duties and what kind of cases you are most likely to treat. 

“We do get the occasional burn or cut especially in Winter when someone always thinks they’re He-Man tries to chop their own wood.” 

“The sight of blood doesn’t bother me. I’ve dealt with more crashes and gunshot wounds in the ER than ear aches.” 

“Well I hope our little clinic won’t be too slow for you, Y/N.” 

“Not all, Dr - I mean Sam. “ You smiled sheepishly. “I think it'll be a nice change of pace.” 

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Y/N.” 

After that Sam did manage to find Dr. Foster, who just like Sam likes to be called by her first name; Jane. 

She was a nice lady who unlike Sam didn’t grow up in this town and was a bit more like you in the way that she also worked in the big city and the major hospitals. She explained how she used to work in the major hospitals with the kind of people who grew severely uppity when you didn’t call them Doctor even while off duty and decided to work somewhere else that had a slower pace to it.  Which is how she met Sam and her now husband who oddly enough is named… Thor. 

“This place will definitely get you if you stay long enough.” Jane chuckled.

“I’m only here till the new year.” You replied and Jane gave you a knowing smirk. 

“I was only supposed to be here for three months. Now I’ve been here for three years. This place unexpectedly grows on you.” 

“And I am hoping to further contaminate Y/N with our charming town by giving her a tour!” Shuri chuckled.

“Wonderful!” Jane smiled. “If you manage to find your way to the flower shop say “Hi” to my husband for me will you? You can’t miss him.” 

Shuri and you smiled and waved goodbye to Jane as you all left her office, before Shuri leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in your ear. “That’s because he’s built like a freaking tree!” Shuri chuckled, making you both laugh.

“Now, that’s something I got to see.” you whispered back. 

“Then let’s go!” shuri said as she linked her arm in yours and you both waved goodbye to Sam and Jane and headed to Shuri’s car which was parked behind the clinic.

A/N: Ahh! So it starts! I really hope you guys liked the beginning of my story! And are as excited as me for another part! I also promise that baker Steve will show up in the next part and some other fav characters as well! 

Don’t hesitate to reblog and leave comments! It’s honestly what keeps the inspiration going!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers series #steve rogers story #steve rogers imagine #captain america oneshots #jade tries writing #jadegrey writes #my writing #fluffy baker steve rogers x reader #baker!steve #baker!steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #eventual smut

[write-ur-wrongs]

Be Your Man

A/N: I know I say it every time, but seriously, thank you SO MUCH for your requests, anon or otherwise. It means the world to me that you trust me with your visions. Here’s a requested fic inspired by the song “Be Your Man” by Rhys Lewis! It’s angsty and has the slightest hint of smut if you look really hard. As always, there are no physical descriptions of the reader! I hope you like it - I cried at the end lmao. 

It’s not proof-read so I apologize in advance!! I really hope you like it. 

_______________________________________________________

Being with the bard was, in a word, comfortable.

His connections ensured you always had a soft bed in a warm inn waiting for you at the end of the day. His reputation and acclaim afforded you a higher status among villagers, scholars, and even knights. Everyone loved his music and adored his visits. With him, you were always welcome.

With him, every day was a gift and every evening a celebration. With him, you never found yourself in harm’s way. Never felt the gnawing pull of hunger or the ache of thirst. He never left your side and you had no reason to leave his. And he loved you, he really did. He showed you everyday, through his songs, his words, his touch.

You were his sun and you were, for lack of a kinder word, comfortable.

That isn’t something you were used to, being comfortable. Your life had been tumultuous from the start and you had hardened yourself accordingly. Everything you had you’d earned as a journeying blacksmith; working whatever you could to make a sale. Now though, having access to any workshop, material, or tradesman the continent could offer, you were at the height of your craft.

But still, nothing could ever compare to the blade you forged for Geralt.

It was stunning, perfectly balanced, crafted from your best steel and iron Geralt had been gifted from the mines of Mahakam. The ornate curve of the hilt took you days to perfect and the faceted garnet you’d set within the pommel shone brilliantly with a clarity that royal houses across the continent would envy.

“It’s exceptional,” he murmured, completely in awe, while examining your work, “how you manage to make your blades look so intricate without sacrificing quality, I’ll never understand.”

You bit your smile to keep yourself from gushing as you watched him wield the sword as if it was an extension of him. And it should be, as you crafted it with him in mind.

“Whoever buys this will be one lucky bastard,” he said as he came out of a mock-parry and pirouette.

“Oh, I’m not selling it!” you said, shaking your head at him as he sheathed the weapon.

“What? Y/N this could get you four maybe five hundred Novigrad crowns! Did someone commission you for it?”

“No, no, it’s a gift.”

“Y/N you are far too generous.” He admonished, attempting to hand the sword back to you.

“Hush, it’s for you.” You say, laying your hands over his, your eyes sparkling.

Gods the way he looked at you then. The way his face softened when you laid your hands over his, how his breath hitched when you took a step towards him. Your bodies so close, eyes flitting from his hooded lids to his lips, and when you finally –

“We’re just about there, darling!” Jaskier sang, pulling you out of your reverie just as the familiar ache began pulling at your lower belly.

“Ah! Y-yes! Wonderful!”

“Well look at you, you’re blushing! Are you remembering the last time we were here?” He teased flirtatiously, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Mm you know me well,” you lied, quickly taking his hand in yours to get it off your thigh. “How much farther, would you say? I’m starving.”

“Not too long, darling.” He said softly, glad that you were watching the forest with rapt attention, and praying the sting of your deflection wouldn’t be too obvious should you turn to meet his eyes. You didn’t turn to look at him though, and that filled the bard with both relief and immense sadness.

Jaskier wasn’t a fool, he recognized your guilt, sensed the way your heart longed for another. But every now and then, when it was just the two of you, he was sure he saw joy in your eyes. You loved him, maybe not quite as he loved you, but he was certain you loved him.

She just loves him more. He smiled at you sadly, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand in silent resignation.

**

“God, I fucking love these beds!” you sighed blissfully, rolling onto your back. The pair of you had meant to get your room and then head out into the village to find work but you hadn’t been able to ignore the fire the earlier memories had ignited.

“Careful my sweet, or I’ll start to think you’re only with me for the fine accommodations.” Jaskier chanced, hoping you’d finally say the three words he so desperately wanted to hear you say, and see that you meant it.

“Ha! Shut up, Jask.” You laughed lightly, snuggling into his arms where you couldn’t catch the disappointment in his eyes, and where he couldn’t see the sadness in yours. Don’t go there, Y/N, you thought, Jask is Jask, and he loves you just fine.  

“Why don’t you let me,” you whisper, peppering his neck and jaw with kisses between words, desperate to get your mind off your witcher, “show you how much I love you?”

“Aa-euhm…” Jaskier let out a breathless squeal as your hand creeped between his thighs and he let himself be lost in your touch. Maybe, he thought, good enough could be enough.

**

You’d given up on the idea to go out to find work long before the sun had set on the village, but that surely didn’t keep work from finding you. The pair of you had barely settled yourselves at the table when you were recognized and showered in contracts.

“Please, madam, I know it’s not the priceless blades you normally work with, but my pots and pans are in desperate need to be replaced –”

“Of course, miss Eldridge,” you interrupted the inn’s owner gently, placing a light hand over hers to calm her nerves, “it would be a pleasure to help you. I’ve recently been working with new casting molds, and it would be an honour to sell you my first.”

“Oh, my! Thank you, Y/N, thank you!”

“No, thank you – this stew is easily the best we’ve ever had! It would be a crime if you weren’t able to keep serving.”

“Oh, you’re too kind!” she laughed humbly, giving your arm a squeeze in thanks before walking back to the kitchen.

You were beaming as you watched the woman practically skip back behind the heavy wooden door.

“What? Why are you staring?” you asked Jaskier, bringing your beer up for a long sip.

“I love watching you work; you shine like the stars on a winter’s night.” He said, reaching over to hold your hand in his.

“Ugh, Jask,” you groaned, wrinkling your nose at his poetics. “You’re such a cheeseball,” you teased him lightly, as you’d done many times before, but this time something flashed in his eyes.

“Hey! I know you were never showered in compliments when you were with Geralt, but-”

“What?!” you interrupted, practically spitting out your last sip.

Jaskier merely leaned back in his seat and gave you a one-shouldered shrug. You could tell he was trying to be aloof but in the six months you’d been together, the topic of Geralt had been a like a landmine. Someone always got hurt, actually, you both ended up hurt.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m not wrong here, love.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jask. It was a beautiful sentiment, really! I’m just – y-you know how I am with this kind of stuff.”

“I know, dear” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on his drink.

“I adore your work,” you added, your nerves heightened by his apparent sense of calm, “I’m just not… always comfortable being the subject.”

“My expressions of love make you uncomfortable now?” he scoffed, looking up at you with big, sad eyes.

“No! No, Jask. T-that’s not what I meant!” you put your drink down and scooted closer to him to take both his hands in yours. “Jaskier, please… I love you. This is how I love, it-it’s who I am, it’s how I am. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be your star.”

Jaskier only shook his head slowly as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve seen you in love, Y/N. I believe you love me,” he said, giving your hands a squeeze, “but you’re not in love with me.”

“That isn’t true, Jask.” You whispered, blinking back heavy tears. You held his hands so tightly now, as if afraid he’d just disappear into thin air before you.

“It is though, and that’s okay.”

“Jaskier…”

“You know, you always use my name,” he said, nodding slightly as he thought, “not always my full name, but alas.”

You opened your mouth to disagree but couldn’t bring yourself to use a pet name, and so your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish. The bard looked at you knowingly with his large, knowing eyes, full of love but still heavy with sadness.

“Jaskier,” you finally conceded, feeling yourself crumble under his heavy gaze, “what’s happening?” you asked, your voice coming out of you like a strangled whisper.

“What do you want to happen?”

“I can’t lose you too.”

“‘Too’.” He repeated flatly.

You wanted to comfort him, to correct him, but nothing was coming to you. He wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him now.

“Why are we doing this now, Jask? I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were happy,” you finally managed to ask, your voice shaky.

“Look, I’m,” he tried, his own voice breaking despite himself, “I know I can’t compare with him.” He waited a beat to see if you’d interrupt him with a correction and when you didn’t, he rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer to you and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I know how you feel. How you’ve… been feeling. Y/N, Geralt is here. He walked in not long ago, and he’s sitting at the back the of bar.”

Everything went blurry. You could tell he was still talking to you it was like your ears were stuffed with cotton – everything was muffled but too loud. You were going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both. Every inch of you was screaming to turn around and look for him, but you were frozen in place like a deer who’d spotted the archer and heard the bow snap but just stood stock-still and let the arrow hit.

“Y/N,” Jaskier pulled your hands closer to him, pulling you back to reality along with them, “I made the decision that I’m okay being your second choice,” he swallowed thickly before continuing, “but now I need you to make a choice.”

You felt as though you’d just been struck. He was looking at you with too much kindness, too much understanding, too much compassion. Holding his gaze made you feel as though a knife was being twisted into your chest, but you were so afraid that if you looked away, he’d leave you.

“My dove,” he says softly as if reading your mind, “I love you and no matter what you chose I’ll be there for you, always. I just want you to be truly happy.”  

You squeezed your eyes shut to keep more tears from falling, but upon feeling him get up to leave the table, your eyes shot open and you let the tears fall.

Very softy, Jaskier cradled your face in his hand and gave your forehead a lingering kiss before pulling away.

“I’m going to head upstairs… I’ll see you up there?” he whispered hopefully.

You nodded up at him wordlessly and let the tears fall as you watched him head up the stairs.

Left alone, you wrapped your arms around yourself and bit your cheek until you tasted blood to keep yourself from openly sobbing. The bustle of the inn allowed you some sense of privacy, which you appreciated, but it also exacerbated your loneliness. Letting out a shaky breath, you poured the rest of your drink into your mouth and swished it around to wash away the blood before swallowing.

Jaskier knew. All these months you thought you were the only one hurting, the only one who felt the weight of the witcher’s memory, but you were wrong. Gods were you ever wrong.

You felt terrible, and far too sober. You quickly swiped at your tear-soaked face, picked up your empty stein and turned to make your way to the bar.

But then you saw him.

He was alone, as always, wearing the thick wool cape you loved. The hood wasn’t up so you could see that his snow-white hair was a mess of knots. His eyes were fixed on his drink, so you were saved from meeting his gaze. Gods, you’ve missed him, and fuck he looked good. And tired. Your heart broke at the sight of him.

Then he looked up at you and your breath caught in your throat. His rich, golden eyes were looking straight at you… and they were vacant. He was looking through you, not at you; he didn’t remember you or care to, and your already broken heart shattered once more.

I am nothing to him, you thought somberly, exchanging your empty mug for a full one. You took a deep, shaky breath and downed your beer in one go, slamming the stein back down decisively. But I’m everything to him, maybe that will be enough.

Before heading up the stairs to where you knew the bard was waiting, you allowed yourself one last look at Geralt, only to find he wasn’t at his table anymore. Seems the fates had decided for you, your thought, letting a hollow laugh escape your lips.

The staircase wasn’t especially long, but the trip up felt unending. You took every step slowly, allowing yourself these brief moments of grief over the official loss of your witcher before you committed yourself fully to Jaskier. No more daydreams, no more longing, no more imagining his large, strong arms around you while the bard’s sinewy frame enveloped you.

You had just about convinced yourself that you’d made the right decision when you spotted him, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs.

“G-Geralt,” you breathed, feeling yourself smile despite yourself.

“Y/N.”

“What, um, how – uh, hi,” you stuttered, needing to look up at the ceiling to keep yourself from completely melting under the burn of his gaze.

“Hm,” he hummed, taking a hesitant step towards you, “still the wordsmith I see.”

“Hilarious,” you retorted, falling effortlessly back into your habits. “I’m happy to see you’ve still got my blade,” you said, nodding to the sword behind his back.

“Of course,” he breathed, now dangerously close to you. “I take you with me everywhere.”

“You mean my blade?” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“No.” he said, his eyes boring into you, sparking the flame you’d spent so long trying to tamp out. “Are you here with him?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“You know I am.” You replied defensively, irrationally angry to hear him bring up the bard.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” you spat, but seeing the way Geralt’s eyes softened knowingly at you, you couldn’t help but to backpedal your aggression. “He’s Jaskier, you know? All silver linings and sunshine.”

“I’m sure,” he murmured, casting his eyes downward as he remembered his friend’s almost insufferable positively. “And you? Are you happy?”

“Geralt…” you practically groaned, crossing your arms to keep the heat radiating off of him from taking over you.

“Are you?” he insisted, reaching over to let his warm, calloused fingers ghost over your forearm. The feeling lit your body on fire and left an obvious layer of goosebumps in their wake.

He was standing so close to you know, you could smell the leather, cedar, and smoke emanating off of him, just like it always had. You could feel his breath on your face. Despite yourself, you looked up at him through your lashes. His proximity was intoxicating, inexplicably comforting.

“This is cruel… you’re being cruel…” you whispered, wiping stubborn tears away but not taking a step in any direction, unable to risk his leaving if you were to move.

“Y/N…”

“He loves me, Geralt, so much.” You insisted, almost like a mantra.

“But are you happy?” Now he was whispering. He sounded sad, his deep gravelly voice melting over you like sunlight after a frozen night.

“Geralt –” you warned, shaking your head.

“Answer me.”

“No. I-I’m not.”

“You’re not going to answer me?”

“I’m not happy.” You conceded, the truth of the statement washing over you as you heard yourself say it.

“Me either.”

You looked up at Geralt then, letting yourself take in the sight of him in full; his eyes, big and sad and fierce as ever, his brows furrowed, creating that deep crease you so desperately wanted to reach up and soothe, his mouth, his lips. You were barely inches from each other now, all you had to do was tip your chin, stand a little straighter…

He closed the gap between you then, his lips crashing into yours hungrily. You fully surrendered yourself to him, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours and you let yourself be happy, insanely, deliriously happy, for the first time in months.

***

Jaskier sat on the edge of the bed, his head in both hands, and sobbed. His broken breath echoed around the empty room, sporadically drowning out the sound of his best friend kissing the love of his life on the other side of the door.

She was never mine, he thought as sobs broke through him.

She was never mine.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #ansgt #fanfiction requests #fanfic #fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher series #no one is happy #everyone cries #anon <3 #anonymous #geralt fanfic #witcher geralt #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher fandom #blurbs #witcher x reader #witcher fic #my writing #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction

[citrusdarling7]

Tophelia (part 2)

summary- a smutty excerpt from my tom riddle x oc book, which you can find here (wattpad) or here (ao3)

warnings- smut, swearing, degrading, spoilers for My Riddle to Solve, shower sex

🗡--------------------------------------------—🗡

“Fine. Could I use your shower? The graveyard dirt is still caked to my skin, and there’s most definitely some blood on my hands.” Tom slumped down into one of his chairs and lit a cigarette.

“There’s spare towels under the sink, as well as unopened bars of soap,” he told me. I kicked off my boots and hung my coat next to his before heading into the bathroom. His was a lot larger than mine; one of the many benefits of being a Prefect. I stripped out of my dirty clothes and stepped under the hot water. My body let out a sigh of relief as the first stream of droplets hit my skin.

The brand of soap Tom had smelled like cedar and pine. It was a comforting scent, albeit a bit sharp. I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the door open. Tom cleared his throat, causing me to jump. The shower curtain was pulled shut, so neither of us could really see each other.

“Tom, is something wrong? Did Adelaide wake up?” My voice was shaky, which he took in as a concern.

“Hanson is fine. May I join you?” My mind blanked for a moment. Was he really asking to shower with me? I didn’t care if he saw me naked, but this seemed strangely intimate.

“Alright.”

Riddle undressed himself quickly before peeling back the shower curtain and stepping inside. The lighting in the bathroom was dim, but I was still able to see his body in all of its glory. His chest muscles were intricately sculpted like those of a statue’s. The water from the showerhead trickled down him as he tilted his head backwards and sighed. Tom’s hands made their way to the sides of my hips.

“You’re very stressed. Tell me why,” he demanded in a soft voice.

“How could I not be? I just witnessed my best friend’s possession,” I scoffed. Tom abruptly pulled my body closer to his. His cock pressed against my stomach and his lips lowered to my neck. My eyelids fluttered shut as he began to kiss me gently.

“It’s something more than that. What’s on your mind?” His warm breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine.

“You don’t want to hear about my worries,” I said. Tom’s kisses trailed down to my clavicle as his fingers lightly traced my thighs.

“Mmh, I do. Indulge me with your thoughts.” His pace became more fervent, running his lips, teeth, and tongue across my collarbones.

“I-” my voice wavered at a sudden kiss against the nape of my neck. Tom’s lips were so warm and wonderful, driving me insane with every movement he made.

“Ophelia, be a good girl and talk to me.” The water from the shower head was being blocked by his figure, meaning that his hands and mouth were my only source of warmth. I wasn’t sure why Tom even cared about my worries, but as long as he was willing to keep kissing me, I was willing to divulge them.

“I’m worried. About Raymond, my cousin, the twins, Adelaide, and even you. Things have been different as of late.” The words tumbled past my lips in short breaths.

“What do you mean by that, my darling?” One of his hands snaked in between my thighs.

“Everything is just so hectic. I feel as if we are on the brink of war, concerning Grindelwald and his massive hordes of supporters. I want to protect everyone that I care about, but that is impossible seeing as I can barely protect myself.” Two fingers brushed against my core, causing my breath to hitch. Although Tom’s lips remained on my neck, I could practically feel him smirking.

“Keep talking. Tell me about your friends. Why are you worried for them?” Fingers stroked my folds slowly, eliciting me to tell him more.

“Raymond’s family is so hard on him, and his relationship with-” I almost let Abraxas’ name slip, my mind preoccupied with my current situation, “-Sarah is complicated to say the least. Adelaide is distant, Joslyn is constantly busy, and— fuck, do that again!” His thumb had pressed down onto my clit, causing pleasure to course through my legs and my back to arch against the wall.

“Tell me more, and I might let you come,” he offered with a delightful kiss beneath my jawline. My head fell back against the shower wall as one of his fingers entered me. Riddle was so damn good at this.

“My mother practically despises me, my father is completely corrupt, and the extended family thinks I am a disgrace,” I stuttered. His middle finger joined the first one, thrusting up inside of me with the perfect amount of pleasure as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. Riddle’s wet curls tickled my neck as he kissed it.

“You take my fingers so well, don’t you?” I tried to speak, but all that came out of my mouth was a whimper. “Don’t stop now. You were being such a good girl for me,” he taunted.

“I- I hate feeling like I don’t- like I don’t know anything, and-” A particularly rough movement of his thumb left me gasping for breath. “Tom, I can’t-” The dark-haired boy tsked in amusement as his hand pulled away from my throbbing cunt.

“What a shame. I would have loved watching you climax around my hand.” He took a step backwards as I sighed in frustration.

“Please, Tom. You can’t just tease me like that,” I begged. He paid no attention to my pleas, opting to stand under the showerhead and act as if I didn’t exist. “Fine, I’ll just get myself off.”

I watched his shoulders stiffen at my suggestion. Riddle quickly spun around and pushed me against the shower wall. He debated the prospect for a moment, not sure if watching me touch myself would be worth allowing me to undermine him.

“You will do no such thing. I want to fuck you, on my bed this time. Would you like that, Ophelia?” I nodded, but that was not good enough for him. “Use your words.”

“Yes. I would.”

In what felt like a blur, Riddle waved his hand to turn off the shower, hoisted me up by the underside of my thighs, and carried me out of the bathroom. I was roughly tossed onto the bed, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on my skin. His duvet was made of a soft black fabric that felt like heaven against my body. The two of us were still sopping wet from the shower, but I suppose Tom didn’t care. He noticed my shivering and quickly conjured up a fire in his fireplace.

He kissed me feverently, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth as my hands grasped at his curls. Skin against skin, I wrapped a leg around his in an attempt to close the gap between us. Heat pooled in my stomach as his lips made their way to my left nipple, sucking at pulling at it with his teeth. His fingers began to play with the right one, causing me to cry out in pleasure.

His kisses trailed down my chest and stomach, continuing lower until he stopped to glance up at me.

“I want to taste your pretty cunt. Can you manage to stay quiet if I do so? Lestrange’s room is to the left of mine,” he warned. The others were without a doubt still awake, and they most definitely did not want to hear me chanting Riddle’s name like a prayer.

“I’ll try my best,” I promised him.

“Good girl. Lie back and let me take care of you.” Tom smirked and pressed a quick kiss against my cheek before moving to kneel in front of the bed. He tugged at my hips to slide me forwards before lifting my legs over his shoulders. He kissed at my inner thighs for a few moments, wanting to tease me as much as he could. The first stroke of his tongue set my entire body ablaze.

His mouth against my heat was quite possibly the most pleasurable thing I had ever experienced. Tom gripped my thighs tightly as he ran his tongue across my folds. I bit down on my lip in a fruitless attempt to silence the moans he was eliciting from me. Dark eyes stared up at me as teeth and tongue wrapped themselves around my clit. My hands desperately clung to the duvet as his wet curls tickled my skin. The sensations I was feeling were so incredibly overwhelming that my hips involuntarily twitched and my legs started to shake. Merlin, why hadn’t I gotten with Riddle sooner?

“Keep still,” he demanded, his words sending vibrations up my core. One of his hands pressed against my lower stomach as the other one warningly slapped my thigh.

“Tom. Don’t stop.” I was rapidly approaching my climax, and the boy currently knelt in front of me also knew that. He abruptly pulled away, causing me to let out a frustrated sigh. However, my disappointment was short-lived. Tom quickly joined me on his bed, positioning himself above me. His cock was so painfully hard that I could see a vein throbbing. Strong hands pinned my arms above my head as he pushed into me with a sudden thrust.

The pace Riddle set was one of extreme speed and intensity. He fucked me so well; the tip of his cock brushed against a sensitive spot inside of me with every movement. My moans and whimpers increased in volume, prompting him to release my arms and clamp one of his hands over my mouth.

“Such a slut for me, aren’t you darling?” Tom’s pupils were blown with lust and his lips were swollen from intense kisses. Every thrust had me clenching around him; I was once again nearing my high. Tom brought his mouth to mine, muffling my moans with a rough kiss. I came around him with a cry; eyes rolled back into my head as pleasure coursed through my veins.

As I came down from my climax, my hands tightly gripped Tom’s shoulders, nails digging into his pale skin. I was painfully sensitive, so much so that sharp pain mixed with every bit of pleasure I was receiving.

When Tom finally reached his orgasm, he buried his face in my neck and stroked the side of my hip with his fingers. His jugular vein tensed as he murmured a stream of praises and swear words. After a few moments of soft kisses and gentle touches, he pulled away from me and went to retrieve his clothes from the bathroom.

“You clearly had a lot of pent-up frustration,” Tom teased as he examined his upper back in the mirror, which was littered with hot red crescent-shaped nail marks. A few of them streaked down his skin in long scratches.

#tom riddle smut #tom riddle #smut oneshot #smut fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle fanfiction #hogwarts #harry potter smut #one shot

[poohkeepsee]

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles  by  2street2car Words: 10,311     Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me  by  ellispark  Words: 45,876     Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine  by  LeverDrift Words: 67,939     Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills  by  ilovehowyouletmefall           Words: 26,052     Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human.  And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend  by  sobsicles    Words: 8,445     Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You  by  sobsicles Words: 95,090     Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication'  by  JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home  by  domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing  by  NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462     Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts  by  pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922     Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees)  by  sobsicles   Words: 74,173     Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim  by  Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910   Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)  by  sobsicles           Words:     108,427     Chapters:     4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date  by  aeli_kindara Words: 8,968    Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road  by  thegeminisage Words:     109,629     Chapters:     7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims  by  lagaudiere Words: 31,904     Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)  by  sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au  (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend  by  reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart  by  peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

#destiel #deancas #fic recs

[shoutoismybaby]

Omega Shame Part 1

Summary: After spending most of your life on suppressants and ignoring your second gender, you finally decide to embrace who you are with your alphas support. But what happens when your alpha Bakugou walks in on you nesting and sparks memories of your past trauma?

warnings: ABO, Nesting, ANGST ending with fluff,

***

Nesting. This was something you hadn't even attempted since you were but a small pup. Both suppressants and fear had kept any desire for this activity far away from you, until a couple months ago. That was when you got a courting proposal, your first ever.

It was a necklace, and not just your typical alphas 'just learned how to make jewelry with string'. No. This necklace required welding, a skill you had no idea about, but that just made sense for your alpha to poses. The chain was a simple silver, leading down to a locket with intricate holes on its top layer, creating an almost explosive like design. The cloth that sat inside was a ruby red color that matched the alphas eyes, and the scent it held was strong of caramel and ash.

Of course if Bakugou was to make a courting gift, his was going to be the best you had ever seen.

You had wasted no time in placing the necklace around your neck, relaxing as his scent filled your nose. It was from this point that you knew Bakugou would make an amazing alpha for you. After all, if he put so much effort into the courting gift, you could only imagine the effort he would put into courting you. Even then in typical Bakugou fashion, he passed all expectations.

It started with the way he would make you lunches, walk you to wherever you needed to go, and made sure to give you a thorough scenting only after he got permission. He always showed concern for your physical and mental wellbeing, stopping you from pushing yourself too hard in training and even scolding you for your self deprecating jokes.

“No one gets to talk down about my omega. Especially not my omega.” He had growled at you once. Again Bakugou did something unexpected, making your omega purr at a growl.

It felt so nice to have someone who cared about you. Someone who encouraged you to stop hiding your second gender from everyone but those in your own class. Not that you had even let your class discover on purpose, but the stressful situations class A had gotten in over the years did wonders for wearing off suppressants and scent blockers. 

He, along with your other classmates, had been building up your confidence in your secondary sex for years now. Bringing you to the realization that being an omega didn't mean that you were weak or any less than betas or alphas. Momo and Ochako were omegas after all, and they were some of the strongest people you knew. So once you had gotten an alpha your omega was basically begging to be set free, and you didn't feel like you had to deny it anymore.

So here you were, after 3 months of being off of the medications your hormones and instincts were finally leveling back to normal. It was something you had never experienced before, but you had Bakugou to help support you along the way. That's why you needed his scent in your nest. No matter how nauseous you felt walking into the young alphas room while you knew he was training, your omega refused to continue the day without at least one peice of his clothing. More than that and you were sure you would be sent into a panic attack. You had no idea how he would react to you doing this. Would he be disgusted? Angry?

Ironically the only thing calming your thoughts was to continue building the nest. Pillows upon pillows methodically shoved between various stuffed animals and blankets became nest shaped as the time passed. Soon enough you were left with just one item left, one of his favorite skull shirts. You had wanted to take something he would miss less, but they weren’t drowned in his scent like this one was. You sat back into the middle of your nest to take a thorough look around. You didn’t want to take too long to decide a place for it by now as you were getting tired. Not to mention you were going to go out on a movie date with Bakugou so you also needed to get ready for that. You would have checked the time if you weren’t so fixated on your task, and that would turn out to be a huge mistake.

You had finally found the perfect place for his shirt when you heard your door open from behind you. In the middle of slipping the clothing item over your pillow you froze as your heart began to race. Your omega knew it was an alpha before you knew who it was and she let out a chirp before you could stop it.

All you could remember was the first time this had happened, an Alpha walking in on your nest. You were seven, not old enough to even present as an omega but tendencies could show early in childhood. You were excited and happily humming as you arranged your blankets, stuffed animals, and your parents best smelling clothes into small yet sturdy walls in the shape of an oval on your bed. You couldn’t help but feel safe, like you would no longer fall off your bed in the middle of the night, or that monsters or other intruders would quickly avoid hurting you once they got just a single sniff of your parents alpha scents. You were proud when you were finished and immediately snuggled into it for a nap, only to wake up to the scent of rotting eggs. A clear indicator your father was both near and very angry. All the yelling and trashing of your hard work that happened next was just a blur. But you could remember how you felt the entire time so vividly. The way your lungs seemed incapable of taking in air, the trembling of your hands and especially the weakness in your knees. Most of all, you remembered the absolute terror as your safe space was invaded. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as fast as your heart would allow it, and you could only sit back and watch.

It was that day that you first became aware that there was something wrong with you. Something gross, weak, and worth hating.

That’s why even when the scent of Bakugou filled your nose, your heart still didn’t slow down. In fact, it only sped up when you finally turned around to look at him, all of the hope you had gotten by convincing yourself he would be happy you were embracing yourself quickly diminishing. His brows furrowed more than normal and his mouth was set in a deep scowl, slightly open just enough that his naturally large canines poked out.

He was angry.

“Do you not know how to answer your fucking phone?! You were so eager to force me to agree to this date and then you don't even respond when I-” Your thoughts were racing far too fast to actually hear what he was saying. Your omega could only think of one thing, your alpha was angry with you. You messed up and now he was angry with you. It was just like your parents, you should have listened to them when they told you it was stupid to nest.

But you had worked so hard on it, and it made you feel so good. You didn’t want your nest to be torn apart again. The smell of smoke wafted from the alphas' palms as you were too caught up in your memories to really hear him. Hear how he was angry with you for forgetting about your date, angry that you had stood him up and too busy being upset to even notice that you were sitting in a nest. The smell of smoke invoked just another event in your mind, one that happened when you had first presented as an omega at 13. Something that caused the damn behind your eyes to finally break.

“PLEASE DON’T DESTROY MY NEST” You Omega sobbed, distressed chips flooding from your chest like air. “Please, please!”

Your outburst startled the Alpha into silence. He could only stand there and watch as his omegas scent was filled with fear as she wiped at her eyes aggressively. A first he was confused, letting his body pump out comfort pheromones instinctually as he let himself observe the situation. You were dressed only in your school uniform, clearly having been building the nest that surrounded you from the time you entered the dorm room to when he had burst into your room, now far past dark. You were trembling too, body curled up in on itself as you hiccupped and begged.

“Please, I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorryyy! Just please dont destroy my nest.” Your voice cracked and it resonated painfully in his ear and his heart dropped. Why did you think he would destroy your nest? Sure he wasn't the best alpha but he wasn’t a monster. Did you really think he would destroy the one place where you felt safest? A weight grew in his chest that left as a deep growl,

“Here.” He growled, “Probably best if we just end this bullshit.”

This was all your fault. If you hadnt built this stupid nest in the first place, or even started crying like a fucking baby then this wouldnt have happened. But you were a weak omega, and just like your parents said, no one can love someone so weak. Especially not someone as powerful as Katsuki. You shouldn’t have let yourself believe that they were wrong for even a second. You had thought that Bakugou would be the one who would love you for who you truly were. But that was naive. No one could love such a burden. No one could love you.

The drop of the crafted bracelet to the ground seconds before your door slammed, leaving you alone once more in your room, proof enough of that.

Your parents were right.

A flame of anger lit in your chest. Why were you so unloveable just the way you were? Why couldn’t you just be different? Why couldn’t you be an alpha like your parents had wanted?

You could feel your nails extend into claws as the hair on your body raised. You glared at the soft material weaved together around you as hot tears built up behind your eyes. This time instead of being fueled by fear they were fueled by rage and resentment.

You were so angry. So angry at youself, at your weak omega, and especially at your stupid nest. You couldn't help but let a couple tears fall as you let your anger get the best of you, and you didn't stop it until you were heaving in the middle of your disaster of a room. Surrounded by torn pieces of fabric and the other contents of your room scattered by your tantrum, you finally let yourself breath. 

You turned around to see the item you had been avoiding, your pillow with bakugou's shirt. With a deep breath you grabbed a hold of the object, digging your claws into its plush softness. The caramel ash smell that permeated the air only helped to break down the remaining bits of your anger. And you didn’t want to be left alone with your despair just yet.

With the release of your breath a ripping sound could be heard. The shirt split and cotton popped out from the opening like popcorn. Once you had successfully dissected what had been a comfort item you threw it somewhere away from you and took another deep breath.

Now you were finally alone. Just you and your reality. You could really feel how much pain your omega was in as your hair began to lower and your normal nails returned. You had heard about this pain before. A deep one in your chest, heartbreak. Your omega seemed to curl around that feeling. Of rejection. Self hatred. That no one would ever need you, let alone want you. You could feel yourself start to slip into the limbo of numbness and searing pain.

An Omega Depression.

You remembered learning about it back when you were in middle school, most people were beginning to present as their second sex. Your teachers had emphasized how important it was to get medical attention at the first signs, you knew how dangerous it was, but all you wanted to do was lay there on the floor. You were tired, and what was the point? No one cared about you, not your parents… not Bakugou. Your throat strained painfully at that thought. Bakugou didn’t want you, and it was your fault.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha omegaverse #bakugou katsuki x reader #alpha bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha omegaverse

[narrators-journal]

Step four

CW: Congratulations reader-chan! You’re expecting! Illumi also really cranks up the yandere side, nothing too bad, but he’s definitely not proving to be a stable man in this part.

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi found his mother in the family library, doing some research for a job she'd gotten.        "Mother, sorry for interrupting, but I have a rather pressing dilemma with my relationship." He said, and he could see the woman perk up slightly, but she only hummed and stayed focused on her research,       "Sorry dear, I can't help right now, maybe try Gotoh." She spoke casually, but he could see in her body language that she was dying to hear about her eldest son's relationship.       "I was wondering if it would be inappropriate to bring her here so soon." he added, and like that her research was forgotten and she was instead offering him a seat beside her. So, he sat in the intricately carved wooden chair and filled her in on his dilemma with the concerns for your safety after finding out Hisoka knew your name, and the concern of pushing you away unnecessarily. "I don't want to put her in danger, but my research on dating says that bringing her here is something to do later on, when we've been together for more than a month." he explained, his mother digesting the information before speaking,                "This is a rather delicate situation...but since Morrow is here, it should be safe to leave her where she is. Maybe set some butlers as constant bodyguards, but hold off on bringing her around here. At least until I can prepare! Oh I'd have to get the chefs to cook a special meal for when your father and I finally meet your partner, and the mansion will have to be meticulously cleaned, and the gardens tended to!" Illumi sighed as his mother rambled on a tangent about how this sort of conflict was always so romantic in the novels she'd read and how she'd have to make sure the family was perfect so as to leave the best possible impression on you.        "Mother, I am being serious. I have worked with Hisoka before, he's a dangerously clever man. I don't want to risk him harming my future spouse," he reminded the woman, who savored her excitement for a moment longer before regaining her composure,         "I'm sorry dear, I just get so happy when I think about my sweet baby boy finally settling down," she said somewhat wistfully, and the assassin inwardly groaned. He was the eldest of at least five, he was far from her baby anymore, but he couldn’t really remind her of that without sending her into a sobbing fit. "anyway!" she chirped, drawing him back from his blank staring and practiced way of spacing out when she took advantage of the fact she was the only Zoldyck allowed to be mushy like this, "I really do think you should leave her where she is, at least for a bit longer. Once she comes to this mountain she won't be able to leave easily, and I'd hate for your future wife to turn out to be some spy or desperate journalist." While she said it in honesty, her voice lacked any real remorse. If you did turn out to be a threat, even Kikyo wouldn't hesitate to squash you like a bug. I think out of everyone to have after (y/n), mother would be the worst. Illumi thought as he pondered his mother's words, agreeing to keep you at your home for the time being. So, for the next few weeks Illumi alternated between jobs and returning to stalking you, but until he could rein in the possessive urge to kidnap you, he kept his distance. When he couldn't watch you himself, like when he was torturing Hisoka for adding extra steps to that job, he made sure someone was still there to ensure nothing bad happened to you. Another bonus of this set up he found was that the servants he had hidden nearby to watch you were able to warn him when you started acting odd. They couldn't exactly place why you were suddenly so anxious and slightly distraught though, so the ebony-haired assassin decided to finish the job he was on quickly when he found out and return to his secondary home. About a day after he'd returned, in the late afternoon, you knocked at his door, as he was expecting.         "Hello," he hummed as he opened the door to find you standing in the slightly chilly daylight fidgeting anxiously,         "Um...I think we need to talk." You said, your words shooting an arrow of anxiety into his heart, Is she going to break up with me? Should I have brought her home sooner?  Should I just grab her now? he asked himself, his dark, empty eyes scanning over your form to glean any information he could from your body language while he wrangled in his moment of panic, No. Invite her in, if she really is about to break up with you she'd be easier to subdue where no one can be a witness. he told himself, temporarily quelling the urge to snatch you up and refuse to let you go again and instead inviting you inside to talk out of the cool late spring air. Once inside you sat on his couch, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to mind the bit of mess in the room that Illumi was swift to sweep under the couch or toss out of sight. Your tense mood drove Illumi crazy, but he skillfully hid the fact that he was growing impatient with waiting and beginning to plan out a way to sedate you and take you home, keeping his focus on the dirty clothes he was throwing behind the chair and the garbage he was shoving into his pockets. simply sitting beside you after a while, awaiting whatever bad news you might have for him. Is she really going to try and break up with me? Damn it, I should've never let my mother talk me into this whole 'dating' thing. He thought bitterly, his own sliver of anxiety adding to the tense, heavy air you had already created. However, after an excruciatingly long stretch of time, you took a deep breath,        "Illumi, I t-think I'm...pregnant." you forced out, not looking at the dead-eyed assassin as the two of you fell into another stretch of silence while Illumi processed this news. Pregnant? We've only had sex twice, is she really that fertile? He pondered, an honest smile spreading across his usually expressionless face after it set in. In a flash, he'd jumped up and scooped you up, hugging your possibly smaller body to his tightly, making you squeal,         "this is wonderful news!" he said, making you smile and turn a light pink,             "Oh, well if I'd known you'd be so happy about it, I wouldn't have stressed so much," you laughed awkwardly, letting Illumi hug you for a moment longer before he put you down again and cleared his throat, his face returning to his bland expression,          "Though, this does put a rush on putting together a wedding." he hummed, not noticing the way your eyes widened          "uh? w-wedding?" you squeaked, drawing his attention out of his thoughts and back to you. Your panicky expression was rather cute to him, you were so innocent,          "Well yes, I was originally planning to take things slow, but now I can't afford to wait. Not to worry though, I'm sure my mother will help you plan it," he assured, but judging by the increasing panic in your (e/c) eyes, it didn't work, "is something wrong, (y/n)?"          "I-I don't want to marry you?" You squeaked, and while your words did sting, he knew this might happen,          "Well, I can't let you parent this child without me, and marriage is the perfect way to ensure I stay involved as well as that you and our child are safe from harm." He explained, but you shook your head,          "Illumi, no! It's only been a-a few months since we've started dating, it's far too soon to marry!" you tried to explain, but he waved your arguments away,          "dating is already a redundancy, I've been very patient in waiting this long before moving on to marriage," he explained, getting a bit annoyed at your horrified look. It was intriguing to see you get flustered and slightly scared, but marriage was not something that deserved this sort of reaction. He sighed, I can't let this continue, the stress is not good for the baby, he reminded himself before speaking again, "Please explain to me why you are so against getting married. I don't think I'm understanding your points clearly enough." For a moment, you struggled to find words, obviously confused and shocked, but he made sure to be patient,        "I-Illumi, it's too soon for marriage, that's something for later on down the road, i-if we even make it that far." You tried to explain, but the assassin grimaced, so you spoke again "Plus, it's perfectly fine if we don't get married before the baby's born, we can still parent them together," Your words made his expression darken further. Finally, you sighed dejectedly, "or...I could always just termi-" Illumi cut you off by grabbing you by your shoulders, his grip tight, nearly painfully so he was sure, but he was not about to allow the entertaining of such ideas,         "You will NOT harm that baby, (y/n)." he said darkly, watching tears well up in your (e/c) eyes from fear and maybe pain. That made him calm down, he had to keep his temper in check before his malicious aura was the one to harm his future wife. "If you try anything to put yourself or our baby in danger, I will be forced to keep you under strict observation." he warned, his voice not holding any room for argument when he spoke, but than he tried to relax, hugging your slightly shaking form to him again.        "It'll be okay, mother will plan a good wedding and you'll be a good mother when the baby's born." he assured, running his hand through your (h/l), (h/c) hair in an attempt to calm you down and show that despite his flash of temper, the excitement of your good news still zapped through his veins. "I'll keep you safe, i promise." He could feel the shiver his words sent through you, but fear was easier to manage than defiance. After a moment though, he let you go again, "I'll have some butlers help you pack your most necessary things, tomorrow I'll take you to the estate." he decided, and when you went to argue again he gave you a cold look, "you can't say anything that will change my mind. The Zoldyck estate is the safest place for you, so go home and pack." he ordered, his tone firm enough for you to get the message. You didn't get a choice.

#yandere illumi #x reader #yandere #illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #hxh #fanfiction #quotev #part 11 #hunter x hunter