#so what’s however many teeth i’ve got left more

[xxsabitoxx]

Confession | Kinktober

Priest Geto Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: religion, sacrilege, fucking a priest, blow jobs, finger fucking, explicit language, squirting, pet names, mild gaslighting

A/N: Day three is here! This one may be offensive to anyone who is religious so please proceed with caution.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

“Tell me, what have you come here for?” You squirmed a bit against the uncomfortable wooden chair. The box itself was pretty dim, only a small, uncovered lightbulb was illuminating the musty space. Through a mesh window on your left, the man spoke with a gentle tone. “I’ve come to confess my sins to you, father.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart, hands twisting tightly together as you mentally prepare yourself to receive his blessings. “Is that so? Please, my dear, tell me the things that haunt you.” Again, his tone was enough to make you shudder. Although it was gentle, it sparked something warm deep within your gut. 

“You see, father, I’ve been a terribly naughty girl.” You swallowed, eyes shutting slowly as you tried to focus on your own words. “Go on.” This time it was a little less gentle, a little more gruff. It made warmth flood your cheeks, your eyes blinking open in surprise. You knew what the priest looked like, having attended some of his masses before. You knew he was a devastatingly attractive man, one around your age, and one unfortunately sworn to celibacy. That, however, didn’t make you want him any less. “Father Suguru, I’ve done things I shouldn’t have… to myself.” You spoke in a low tone, listening to him hum softly before asking “Like what? What have you done to yourself?” he took the bait, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“I've touched myself, for my own pleasure.” You held your breath, vaguely certain that Father Suguru did too. After a moment of your confession hanging in the air, he spoke up. “Oh? How many times have you committed this sin?” his tone wasn’t as gentle now, rather it held a level of strain to it. You could hear him shifting in his seat on the other side of the small confessional wall. “Many times, father. I’ve lost count… which is why I’ve come to you. I want to be cleansed of my filthy acts, only your generous mercy can free my tainted soul.” You stroked his ego with each word, a devious grin plastering to your lips as you heard him clear his throat. 

“Sweet girl, by his grace I can cleanse you. But for it to truly work, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Tell me how you committed this act, recall one of the moments for me.” you could have choked on the little saliva that was in your mouth, heat pooling deep down as you recalled the last time you masturbated. “Oh well, last night I…” You stopped when you heard him inhale sharply, your teeth sinking into the side of your cheek before you asked “Father Suguru, are you alright?” You tried to sound innocent, praying your smirk wasn’t evident in your tone. “I-I’m alright, I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to touch yourself the night before coming to see me. But by all means…” his tone was mildly condescending “... go on.” 

Your thighs pressed together, alleviating the mild ache just a bit. You hadn’t even gotten into the details with him, yet you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear. “Well, you see, I was laying in my bed all alone. I got bored, my mind wandered and I started to think about such sinful things, Father. They got the better of me and I found myself kicking off the sheets and using my hands to toy with my breasts.” You swallowed, one hand coming up to hold your breast as you spoke, as if needing a physical reminder for all the things you had done. “A-and that wasn’t enough. I felt so achy down there that I couldn’t help taking my panties off and spreading my legs…” You stopped again, letting it hang in the air as you tried to compose yourself. 

Beyond the confessional wall, Father Suguru was gritting his teeth, trying desperately to even his breathing as his cock started to strain against his pants. He wasn’t supposed to know who was sitting beside him, but your voice was recognizable. What a sinful girl you were, always attending his masses in such short sundresses. Your smile was addicting, just like the way your hips swayed as you walked up to him to chat after the mass was done. The thoughts you made him think, the things you made him feel… you must have been a temptation sent by the devil. But god dammit, it turns out he was a weak, weak man. He couldn’t resist the temptation of you for much longer he feared. Especially now. “And then what did you do?” he breathed out, quieter. 

“Father, is this really necessary?” you feigned innocence again, all the while you were slowly parting your legs. “Y-yes, go on. For your sins to be properly forgiven, you must tell me in detail.” You could hear his voice straining again, threatening to crack if you asked him something else. “Alright then…” you sighed, legs spreading enough for your hand to slip down and press on your aching cunt. You nearly whimpered, swallowing the noise by clearing your throat. “I used my hand to reach down there and play with myself.” You admitted with warm cheeks, the heat radiating from where your fingers were pressing was enough to make you squirm, the old wooden chair creaking as your hips  swivelled. Father Suguru was losing the battle, hand shakily holding his fully erect length and squeezing it roughly in hopes of helping the ache. 

“And?” he said again, as if working on autopilot. “I played with my pussy until I climaxed.” you stated boldly, using two fingers to press directly over your aching clit. You heard it loud and clear now, a deep rumbling groan from the priest beside you. “You know, such a sinful act needs more of a demonstration.” he spoke with a surprisingly level tone, letting go of his aching bulge to stand. You, on the other hand, had frozen in your seat. “A-a demonstration? Father Suguru, I just bore my soul to you by explaining verbally.” But you heard him click his tongue, “Nonsense girl, you’ve yet to bare your soul to me in any capacity.” You pushed your dress down, hand resting on your lap instead of your cunt as you straightened, Through the mesh window, you could see he was standing. “An intervention for a tainted soul like yours needs to happen face to face.” 

You couldn’t help but gasp, watching through the window as he pushed the door to the confessional open and stepped out. A moment later you were standing, shamelessly pushing the door open to stand in front of the clearly worked up priest. “Father Suguru…” you started innocently yet again, as if you weren’t the direct cause of his raging erection. His jaw was clenched tight, his hair out of its uniform bun and instead styled in a half up half down look. It only made you want him more, especially with the way his tanned cheeks were flushed red. His pupils were swallowing the pretty brown of his eyes, his fingers were tugging at the tight collar of his black clergy top. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants before trailing back up. 

“You need to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” You blinked, eyes roaming the empty pews of the cathedral’s main room. His voice was echoing, sending a shiver down your spine as stain glass windows looked back at you. “Father Suguru I…” you swallowed, truly not anticipating the priest to go as far as he was. You hadn’t gotten this far in your daydreams, because you always convinced yourself the holy man wouldn’t give into temptation. Yet, you were taking a step forward, dropping to your knees before him on the cold marble floor. You felt like you should be ashamed of what you were about to do, not only in front of an altar, but with a priest… a man who swore his life to this work. 

“Don’t speak.” he commanded slowly, fixing you in place with a hard stare. Your lips closed again, any sort of reason leaving your mind as he started undoing his belt with one hand. The other came down to tuck some hair behind your ear, the motion far too gentle for the flames burning in his gaze. “Be a good girl for me, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You obeyed, Suguru’s eyes watched with dilated pupils as your pretty lips parted and your tongue appeared. He breathed out through his nose, leaning over you a little as his belt came undone. You flinched as he spit, saliva landing perfectly in your mouth. “Swallow it, sweet girl.” you did, eyes locking with his as you swallowed the contents in your mouth.

“You must really want forgiveness.” He mused, quickly undoing the button and zipper of his black slacks. You nodded slowly, being mindful to remain quiet just as he had asked. “Surely, this is your ticket to salvation.” You held in a gasp as Suguru pulled out his cock. It was certainly bigger than you had anticipated, tanned and long with pretty veins running up the sides. “Father Suguru… please…” you rasped, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. “Atta girl, beg for your forgiveness, you can speak now.” Your lips parted, eyes trained on the oozing tip as Suguru wrapped his hand around the middle of his shaft. He was taunting you with it, moving it side to side just to watch your eyes follow it wherever it went.

“F-father Suguru I… I want to be forgiven for my sins… I want you to cleanse my soul with your gracious hands… Father Suguru please…” you begged him, breathing turning laboured as you waited for him to stop the torture and give you what you wanted. Suguru held his breath for a moment, heart racing as each syllable fell from your lips. “Please… god please.” you were breathless, eyes watering as you looked up at him. “Yes…” Suguru whispered, squeezing his length tightly before taking a half step forward. He was in mouth’s reach now, making your hips wiggle as your lips parted for him. “Please…” you said again, shivering as his second whisper of yes reached your ears. You took initiative now that he gave you his permission. 

You kept your hands folded nearly on your lap, only using your mouth to take him. With Suguru’s guidance, the weeping head of his cock was slipping between your lips. You inhaled through your nose, jaw struggling to open wide enough to accommodate him as you pushed your head further down his length. You were determined to take the priest’s entire cock, you wanted to hear his pretty moans bouncing off the walls of the cathedral. You locked eyes with him, swallowing around him just to see his eyes nearly roll back. You had to wonder if this was the first time he had ever gotten head, maybe this would be the first time he ever got to touch a woman. The idea of the priest above you being a virgin made your cunt clench around nothing. 

Suguru’s lips were parted, letting go of his cock as you began to bob your head, hands obediently on your lap. “Such a good girl… such a good girl… so so good…” be babbled softly, hands coming to cup your cheeks and guide you as his cock slipped in and out of the wet cavern of your mouth. You got off on his praise, fingers itching to sink between your thighs and toy with your clit just as you had described to father Suguru moments earlier. “So good, you’re such a good girl for not touching yourself yet. Surely you’ll be forgiven…” he groaned, head tilting back as your nose brushed the dark mess of hair at the base of his cock before you pulled back again. Each pass over your tongue, each time your throat constricted around him, it was enough to send him into a blissful state of euphoria. It was enough to make him question his beliefs. 

Your mouth was too preoccupied to ask, but you desperately wanted to touch his balls. They were sitting there, taunting you, growing shiny as your saliva cascaded down his shaft. You moved one hand, eyes still locked on his neck and chin since he was tilting his head back, to test the waters. Suguru didn’t seem to notice as your fingers danced up his thigh, tongue still lavashing him as your head moved back and forth in a steady rhythm. You hesitated for only a moment before gingerly cupping him, watching as his head shot forward to look down at you with a shocked expression. They were warm and heavy with his cum, tightening as you massaged them between your fingers. “Oh… good girl…” he said again, voice a little more broken than before as he uttered the same praise for you. 

The repetitiveness of it wasn’t an issue for you, if anything it got you going more. Every time he uttered the phrase, you felt yourself grow wetter, you were certain your panties were absolutely destroyed at this point. “I-I’m going to cum if you keep doing that… is that what you want, sweet girl?” he cooed, regaining a little composure as he spoke to you. You hummed, sending vibrations straight through him and eliciting a moan from his lips. “You want my cum, don’t you sweet girl. You want me to shoot my load right down your throat, right?” you hummed again, moaning around his twitching length as you squeezed his balls a little harder. Suguru cursed, the sound coming from the priest were enough to have your nipples bubbling, brushing uncomfortably against the material of your bra. “Fuck…fuck…” he panted, cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink as his fingers buried in your hair, no longer gentle as he rutted his hips into your mouth. 

You gagged, fully unprepared for the priest to take over the way he had, the sound echoing and only fueling the fire in his gut. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth as he pleased, fingers fisting in your hair just as your free hand fisted in the material of your sundress. You inhaled through your nose, lightheaded as the priest abused your throat to his liking. “Gonna… fuck gonna cum… oh yes, fuck… gonna cum down that pretty throat.” you whined, eyes nearly shutting before he commanded you to keep them open. “Look at me, the only way you can be forgiven is if you look at me, sweet-ah-girl.” He gritted his teeth, the pleasure ebbing up the back of his spine was going to make his knees week. Dutifully, you kept your eyes on him, watching his jaw go slack before he finally came. 

You flinched, throat constricting at the extra intrusion but relaxing a moment later. You swallowed, mildly disappointed he had waited until he was nearly down your throat to cum. You didn’t get to taste much, not until he drew his hips back and the salty taste dragged over your tongue. Suguru was panting, watching you reach up to rub your aching jaw as he tried to even his breathing. “You’re on the road to forgiveness, sweet girl. But I don’t quite think you’re there yet.” You looked at him with mild hurt, you had thought you had done so good. “Be a doll and strip for me… sit on the pew and demonstrate your sins from last night.” the priest was tucking his now softened cock away, trying to act as if he weren’t flustered in the slightest. “Father Suguru…” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from his use. 

“Yes? I believe I made myself clear.” he watched as you stood to your full height again, pulling your sundress off with no shame. You held his gaze as you pulled your ruined panties down, making sure he could see how destroyed they were before dropping them on the cold marble and walking down the few steps to the first row of pews. “I would much rather instruct you, I think it only makes sense for your pure hands to cleanse me of my sins in the deepest way.” You sat on the cold, polished wood, looking up at him where he stood on the elevated stage. He seemed to ponder your implications, huffing out a laugh before responding. “I guess that makes the most sense, you’re quite a smart, sweet girl.” You smiled at him, spreading your legs and moving to plant your feet on the pew. You were fully spread, the position mildly uncomfortable but you couldn’t really think past that point as cool air met your slick, displayed cunt. 

“Father Suguru, please… I want to be pure.” you coaxed him down, watching as he took shaky footsteps before dropping to his knees before you. “Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me how you indulged yourself and tainted your soul… let me save you.” You shivered as his fingers trialed up the bare skin of your thighs, brown eyes observing your cunt dutifully. Your hands found their home pressed flat to either side of you, supporting you against the polished wood. “My clit… I played with it until I left a wet mark on my sheets… I didn’t let myself cum for a long while…” you breathed out, watching as he nodded, cheeks red and lips glossy as his tongue swiped across them. “I see…” he started, moving one calloused finger to swipe up your slick folds. “...like this? Gentle strokes and circles, right?” he used his thumb to press against your clit, rubbing it in circles until he felt you twitch. “Y-yeah…” you sighed, head falling back. 

Suguru smirked, not moving any quicker. Your pretty sounds began to fill the empty cathedral, your arousal dripping down to the polished bench below you. He was careful with his movements, slowing until he was barely moving when he noticed you clenching around nothing, trying to draw your orgasm closer. “Be a good girl and let it happen… don’t force your body to cum because you think I’ll leave you hanging, sweet girl.” you whined, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding until he said that. You forced your head back down, face warm as you realized he was still intently staring at you. Granted you had done the same to him as you got him off. “Tell me, is this how you were sinning last night?” Suguru waited until you were about to speak, using two fingers and slipping them straight into your slick core. “Y-yeah…” 

Your body tensed again at the intrusion, moaning loudly as he massaged your walls. “I promise you, sweet girl, I will cleanse you.” he cooed, eyes focusing solely on you as he gauged your reactions. He would find that one particular spot, he was sure of it. “Please Father Suguru… cleanse me…” you cried out as he brushed it, a smirk curling the ends of his lips as he pressed his fingers into the front of your walls, thumb still sloppily rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your thigh. “S-Su…Father Suguru…” you croaked, tears leaking down your cheeks as he abused that one spongy part of your cunt. You couldn’t think straight, mind blanking completely as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Go on, sweet girl, cum on my fingers.” He encouraged, voice so gentle you would have never guessed he was knuckle deep in your cunt. 

Suguru could feel it of course, your walls fluttering and twitching around his fingers as more and more of your slick arousal slipped out of you and down to the pew. “I’m gonna cum… Fa-ahh” you couldn’t get the rest out, hip jerking as your orgasm hit you before you could truly prepare. You cried out, the noise bouncing off of the cathedral walls as the priest continued to finger your cunt and circle your clit with his thumb. “S-Stop oh fuck s-stop…” you wheezed out, an unfamiliar feeling building in your gut as he continued to abuse that one spot with his fingers. “No, this is what you need, sweet girl, let it happen.” he encouraged, lips parted as he watched where his fingers had disappeared inside of you very intently. Your eyes screwed shut, trying to fight off the feeling but it was useless, the priest was unrelenting in his movements. 

Shockwaves of your orgasm turned into a full blown tsunami, your head falling back as a gush of fluid sprayed out of you and onto the bench and marble floor below. You cried out, his name mixed somewhere in the jumble of your babbling, utterly embarrassed. Finally, Father Suguru stopped, withdrawing from your body entirely and getting off his knees. “Sweet girl, what a mess.” he scolded you, a devious grin on his face still as he looked your wrecked frame over. “You’ve been cleansed, pretty. But I would argue that we should double… or even triple check to make sure it’s really working.” Your body felt heavy, eyes lidded as you merely nodded, cunt still fluttering at the thought of getting more of the priest before you. 

“I’ll make sure you are pure, my sweet girl.”  

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #geto suguru smut #geto suguru imagines #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto #suguru #suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x y/n #getou suguru smut #suguru imagine #suguru x reader

[chuluoyi]

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[givemequeen]

Accidental Confessions: Pedro Pascal x reader

request: What about a Pedro Pascal friends to lovers? He just seems like such a great friend. It would be cute to see an angsty/fluffy friends to lovers. a/n: I’m back bitches? pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader summary: you go to a party with Pedro and accidentally let something slip. warnings: sexy time. slight oral (female receiving). honestly just normal sexy stuff. oh! unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it, lads) word count: 5409

You stepped into the party already anxious, your hands were slightly shaking as you made your way around the room overfilled with strangers. Pedro had invited you to some fancy actor party of his and you had regrettably agreed. The last thing you wanted to do right now was fake smile at a bunch of people you didn’t know. It would’ve been so much better if you had just stayed home in bed watching TV. 

You shook the thought out of your head, no, you were here for your friend. He invited you specifically. He wants you here.

As you silently chastised yourself for wishing you weren’t here, you found yourself at the bar. The bartender – a young man with healthy, bouncing curls down to his shoulders whose smile revealed two small dimples on each cheek – asked you what you wanted as he prepared a drink for a girl in a stunning dress.

Pedro hadn’t exactly told you what to wear, just something “formal”, so you had landed on a long, thin, silver dress with spaghetti straps that you had bought on a whim. Thankfully, you seemed to fit in with the rest of the people. Though they did seem much more put together than you did.

You told the bartender your order – lemon vodka – and sat on one of the stools. You were about to take your phone out of your small purse when the lady that was sat next to you spoke. She called out your name and you shot up. 

“Is it you?” she said with a dashing smile. Her teeth were perfectly straight and extremely white. She had a tan and a nose that you could ski on. 

“Yeah?” you said, a bit unsure. 

“It’s wonderful meeting you.” She stuck her hand out, of course she had a perfect manicure. 

“Thanks, you too.” You shook her hand; thankful you had at least attempted to paint your nails a colour to match your dress. “I don’t mean to be rude but who are you?” 

She laughed – obviously a perfect laugh, no snorting or high-pitched squeals – and told you her name. “I’ve worked with Pedro.” 

You cringed at the way she said his name. “Oh.” You said with a slightly pang of jealousy. “So, how do you know me?”

“Are you kidding? He talks about you all the time, sweetheart.” She laughed, completely taking you back. “So how long have you two been together?” 

Just as you were about to open your mouth to tell her you guys weren’t together and what a ridiculous suggestion that was, the bartender handed you your drink. You smiled at him and politely took a sip before turning to the woman and again. 

However, this time, Pedro was stood right next to her. 

“Pedro!” you said, a smile light up your face. You stood up, set your drink on the bar, and gave him a hug. His strong, large, warm hands rested on your hips as you tucked your head in his neck and pressed yourself against his warm skin. He smelled perfect. Like the cologne you had seen in his bathroom one too many times and like him. Like his skin and his sweat and morning mist and almonds. 

You stood back before it got too weird. You felt hyperaware of his hands on your hips and how he had kept them there. “I was just talking to-” you turned to face the lady but she was gone. “Oh, she must’ve left.”

“Leah? Yeah we worked together last year, I told you about it.” He smiled and you nearly melted right there. That gorgeous smile that revealed a dimple in his right cheek and crinkled his eyes. “You look gorgeous.” He said as he took a step back and took you in. You spun around in order to give him a full view. “Absolutely perfect.”

“So do you, ver handsome.” You took a sip of your drink in order to hide your blush. 

“Come, I want you to meet some people.” You nodded and allowed Pedro to grab your hand and lead you through the masses of people. You spent the next three hours going from group to group. You knew some of the actors, either personally - well more like from some other party Pedro had invited you to - or because you had seen them in some show or movie. You politely listened to whatever they had to say and then kissed everyone goodbye before moving on to the next group. 

Though sometimes what the actors were saying was interesting, the thing that took your attention away the most was Pedro. Whenever he laughed, he would clap his hand on his chest and lean backwards. You couldn’t stop paying attention to the heat coming from his hand when he would place in on your lower back as he guided you to the next group. 

It was around eleven o’clock when you stepped outside from some air. Pedro had offered to fill up your drink but you refused as you were starting to feel a little light headed. So, instead, he went to get you both a snack and a glass of water. 

You were standing in the apartment’s balcony, it was pretty high up but it had the most breath-taking view of the city. All around you lights from different buildings and streets winked up at you. You took a deep breath in and gripped the railing of the balcony. You were alone and did not hear when Pedro came out. 

“Hey there.” He said, he was holding a bowl of peanuts and a glass of water. “I already had some water; I hope you don’t mind sharing.” He grinned sheepishly. 

“Of course I don’t mind, silly.” You smiled and took the glass. “Thank you.” You said as you popped a peanut into your mouth. 

You sat down on one of the outdoor sofas and, sighing, lifted your legs so they laid across Pedro’s lap. You both quietly munched on the snack and stared at the sky. Pedro moved your dress out of the way, lifting the hem until your knees. He began drawing on your leg and you nearly groaned out loud at how good his touch felt. 

“So, how long are you in New York for?” you finally asked. You always dreaded this answer, he wasn’t here for long, always in one country or another filming. 

Of course, you were happy for him. He was doing what he had always dreamed of doing but a small – or large – part of you was selfish and wanted him to stay in New York so you could see him every day. 

“For a while.” He said. You look up at him and smiled. 

“Really? No show to shoot? No premier or award show to attend?” you tried to hide your excitement but failed miserably. 

“No.” he laughed. “I’m all yours.” He said as his finger glided up and down your leg. 

“Awesome.” You said, unsure what else to say. I wish you were all mine… 

“Hmm?”

“What?” you echoed looking up at him. 

“What did you just say?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hand had frozen highway up your shin. 

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” You sat up, pulling your legs away from him. “Fuck, did I say “I wish you were all mine” out loud? Fuck.” you thought. You probably had had more to drink than you had initially thought. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Yes, anyway I better get going.” You quickly stood up and before he had the chance to follow, you dashed inside. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

Quickly, you made your way through the crowds of people, carefully avoiding those you knew were chatterboxes, and left the apartment. You looked behind you and nervously began pressing the call button for the elevator. As soon as it opened, you darted inside and began repeatedly pressing the close button. 

Soon enough, the elevator reached the reception and you bolted across it. You waved goodbye to the concierge who had helped you earlier last night and quickly glanced over your shoulder as you stepped outside. Pedro was nowhere to be seen and you weren’t sure whether to be disappointed or relived. You hailed a taxi down, but they all zoomed past you, either busy or completely ignoring you. 

“Hey.” You heard Pedro call your name from behind. “Where are you running off to?” he tapped your shoulder and you spun around. 

“Hi, sorry. Just gotta get home, yknow.” You smiled, trying to play it cool but Pedro saw right past your act. 

“Okay, let me accompany you.” He stood beside you and hailed a taxi down. Of course, they immediately listened to him. He opened the door for you to get in. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’ll get home fine.” You said as you got in. 

“What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t take you home?” he said as he too got in. 

Reluctantly, you nodded and he gave the taxi driver your address. You spent the ride staring outside and cursing New York’s traffic. Walking or the subway would’ve taken you less and maybe you wouldn’t have been caught up by Pedro. But the subway wasn’t the safest especially with what you were wearing and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way home. 

Pedro sat silently next to you, his hand on the middle seat, and eyes glued outside. When you finally got to your place, you jumped out of the taxi and thanked Pedro. However, he too stepped outside. He paid the driver and followed you inside your apartment’s foyer. 

You couldn’t exactly slam the door in his face, so you let him in and got into the elevator. You expected this ride to be just like the taxi drive, silent and a tiny bit awkward. Pedro surprised you by hitting the emergency button - which caused the elevator to jolt to a halt - and turning to you. 

“Hey, talk to me, why did you run off? And don’t say you needed to get home.” He said, he stood completely in front of you. You glanced up and mustered a smile. 

“I- well- it’s just-” you couldn’t help but glancing down at his lips and back up at his eyes. Those deep brown eyes you could just lose yourself in. 

“Yeah? You just what?” he prompted, taking a step closer to you. You held your breath, unsure as to what to do. 

“I think you know.” You finally said, you pushed your shoulders back and held your hands together behind your back. 

“Oh? I do?” he asked, he was so close you could feel his breath fanning across your face. It smelt like mint and alcohol and you so desperately wanted to put your mouth and his. 

Gently, he cupped your cheek and you let out a breath, your hands went to his chest as his other hand went to your hips. “Please let me kiss you, I’ve been dying to kiss you.” He whispered. 

You nodded and closed your eyes, waiting for the heavenly taste of his lips. Slowly, Pedro pressed his lips against yours, you let out a sigh that sounded almost like a whine, and pulled him closer by the jacket of his suit. You moved your head to the side, allowing him more space to kiss you. 

His lips felt so extremely smooth and soft, almost like what you imagined kissing a cloud would feel like. He groaned into your mouth and that noise made you weak in the knees. Pedro let his hand drop to your waist and you both walked backwards until your back hit the elevator wall. 

He pulled you up so you could rest on the safety rail. You wrapped one leg around his waist, the dress restricting your movement, and he pressed himself against you. Now it was your turn to groan. He was clearly hard; you could feel it pressing against where you needed it the most. 

He rolled his hips and you moaned again. Taking advantage of the situation, he slipped his tongue into yours. You allowed it and let your tongue dance over his. One of his hands move to your behind, he grabbed the soft flesh there and pressed himself even harder into you. His other hand went to your leg, he pulled your dress up, feeling how smooth your legs were. 

“Fuck.” He whispered against your lips as he pulled apart for air. “I want to-” 

“Everything alright in there?” a voice called out from the intercom. 

You jumped away from Pedro, slightly pushing him away. “Erm, yes, just an accident.” You coughed and tried to fix your dress. 

“Alright.” Said the voice. Pedro hit the button again and the elevator lurched into life. 

You let your fingers glide over your lips, reminiscing on how sweet he tasted.  Pedro was now leaning against the back wall of the elevator, not staying anything, as you stood near the doors. 

Finally, they opened and you stepped into the corridor. You could hear him follow you and wait patiently as you took your keys out. Once you found them, you fumbled with them until you managed to slide them into the keyhole. You turned the key and a small click resonated. 

You turned to face him and struggled to meet his eyes. He was staring down at you, his face tense as though unsure of what to do and hands in his pockets. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. Smiling, he nodded and followed you in. You turned the lights on and made your way to the living room. 

“Sit. Do you want a drink?” Pedro stood by the entrance of the living room, his body leaning against the door frame, and stared at you. 

“No.”

“Oh… Do you want water? Or some food?” you said as you moved your weight from one foot to another. Your heels were killing you. 

“No.” he repeated, his voice dark and low. He pushed off the door frame and took a step towards you. 

“Oh.” You swallowed and watched in anticipation as he got closer to you. “What do you want then?” you stuttered. 

“I want you.” He said as he placed his hands on your hips again. “And you?” 

“Me too.” You quickly said before kissing him. 

Pedro groaned into your mouth and grabbed you wherever he could. Your hands were on him like metal on a magnet. He yanked you up, hands on your ass. Your heels fell off, making a loud thump when they reached the floor, but you didn’t care. 

“Careful, my dress.” You breathed. He pulled it up, nearly uncovering your ass, and squeezed your thighs. He pressed you to the wall and continued kissing you. His mouth was wonders on yours, drawing out the dirtiest of noises. 

“My room.” You said. 

Wordlessly, Pedro pulled you off the wall and started making his way to your room with you in his arms. You grabbed his shoulders and felt the muscles underneath the suit. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to tear all this extra fabric off of him. Once you reached your room he dropped you onto your bed and crawled on top of you. 

You pushed the jacket off of him as his lips attached themselves to your neck. Like a starving man, he began kissing and licking your neck. His kisses were soft and harsh at the same time, his tongue sliding over what his teeth marked. You moaned his name and begged for more. 

“Clothes.. there’s too much…” you mumbled pushing him back. He laughed and began unbuttoning his shirt. Impatiently, you pulled his shirt free from his pants and undid the buttons at the bottom. Pedro grabbed your chin and made you look up at him. 

“Patience, mi amor.” he said, a smile creeping onto his face. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not laughing.” He finished undoing all his button. “You’re so beautiful, I’m just happy.” You felt a rush of heat making its way up your neck and down your stomach. 

“Oh shut up.” You covered your face. 

Slowly, he peeled your hands away from your face and kissed you gently. “You are.” He kissed you again. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 

He was finally done with all his buttons. You pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and sighed in delight. Your hands went to his stomach, feeling the warm skin, and kissed him right above his belly button. There was a trail of dark hair leading down into his pants and for a moment you wandered if that hair grew there just to tease you. 

He kicked off his shoes and let his shirt fall to the ground. You pushed him onto the bed and pulled your dress up, so it pooled at your hips, in order to straddle him. His hands returned to their familiar positions at your hips, and you took in his chest. 

Sure, you had seen him shirtless before whenever you went to the beach or pool – or when you drunkenly searched up shirtless photos of him with your friends – but you had never seen him laying on your bed like this, his hands on your ass and eyes on your breasts. 

“I think now it’s you who has “too much clothes”.” he said, quoting you. His fingers went to your straps, leaving your ass cold, and with a nod from you, he pushed them off your shoulders. Slowly, the dress fell and left your breasts exposed. You though, you would perhaps want to cover yourself, but something about the way he stared at them made you stand up straighter. 

He sat up, pulling you against him, and kissed your chest. He moved to one breast, planting opened mouthed kisses onto the soft skin and held the other breast with his hands. He gently squeezed and let his mouth hover about your nipple. His breath fanned over it, hardening it. You pushed forward, forcing him to make contact. 

He kissed you softly, like he had all the time in world, and gently. But you wanted more, and you want it now. You had waited too long for it to be this slow. You told him so. 

“I have waited too long for it to go too fast. I’m going to take my time.” You didn’t know what was hotter, the fact he wanted to take his time with you or the fact he had wanted this for a long time too. He kissed you harder and took your nipple between his teeth. You moaned his name and grabbed his hair, tugging on it slightly. This earned you a small groan, you did it again and he groaned your name. 

His hand squeezed your other breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple. You sighed in pleasure and grinded against him. You wanted to feel him everywhere and weren’t sure how long you were going to let him “take his time” with you. He was rock hard and you were dying to see him. Completely see him. 

He moved away from your breast and swapped sides, making sure both sides of you got the same treatment. “Oh, Pedro, fuck.” You said, each moan making him go harder and faster. “Please, I need you…” 

Pedro pulled away and tugged the dress over your hips. You lifted your arms, allowing him to completely take your dress off. He threw it off the side and groaned as he took in your entire body. 

“You’re perfect.” He leaned forward and kissed your chest. You arched your back, pushing yourself towards him. He flipped you over and held himself above you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him down, wanting to feel his weight on top of you and between your legs. 

“Take your pants off.” You said, your hands fumbling with the belt. “Please.” You added after he gave you a cheeky look. 

Pedro rose and quickly took off his pants. You sat up, resting your weight on your elbows, and let your mouth fall open as you stared at his crotch. His erection was extremely obvious, it was creating a tent in his underwear. He placed his hands at his hips. 

“Wow. Okay. Come here. Now.” You pulled him towards you and kissed him, eager to get to it. 

He kissed you hard, taking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it. You couldn’t take it any longer, you stuck your hand between you and down his underwear and wrapped your fingers around him. He winced when you touched him and let his head fall onto your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” you went to move your hand away but he grabbed your wrist. 

“Continue.” He begged. “I’m just… really hard.” He laughed, refusing to meet your eyes. You bit your lower lip and attempted to hide the smile that was threatening to jump out. You wrapped your fingers around him again. He was thick and, you quickly discovered, long. You began stroking him and his hips began rolling, meeting you halfway. Some pre-cum leaked out of his tip, wetting your hand. You squeezed your thighs around him, eager to have him inside. 

Almost as though you had requested it, Pedro let one of his hands fall between you. He pressed his thumb against you through your underwear and began rotating it. You moaned, bucking your hips. It felt too good. 

“Please, let’s…” you didn’t have to say anything else. He laid on your side and placed his warm hand on your lower stomach. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, slowly itching downwards. 

“Yes.” 

“If you want me to stop at any time, tell me.” He said as he stared into your soul. 

“Yes.” You looked away, terrified your eyes would betray your deepest secrets. 

“Look at me.” His voice was low and husky, it made that warm feeling in your lower stomach drop lower. You turned to look at him, the hand that wasn’t on your lower stomach tucked your hair behind your ear before returning to its position holding him up. 

He kissed you gently and slowly slipped his hand under your underwear. You gasped as his finger touched you, it was barely anything but with Pedro if felt like everything. He moved his finger in small circles and watched you, entranced by the soft noises you were making. You grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. 

Gradually, he slipped a finger inside of you, just one, and kept it there. You looked at him, mouth slightly open, and nodded. He slipped another finger and curled them. You fell back, unable to support yourself, and squeezed his shoulder harder. Pedro began slipping his fingers in and out, each time he entered you he curled them. His thumb began drawing small circles just where you needed it. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment, and opened your hips, giving him all the space he could need. 

“Fuck.” You breathed as he stroked something deep inside you. 

You arched your back, pushing your breasts into the air. As though by invitation, Pedro placed his mouth around your breasts and sucked. His kisses were harder this time but you welcomed them. Your hand went to his hair, tugging and scratching his scalp. The joint pleasure coming from his hands and mouth was overwhelming. You pushed your hips onto the bed and breasts into his mouth. 

“Pedro… I’m gonna…” you moaned. He picked up his pace and helped you reach the place you had been chasing. You felt that pleasure ripple through you, erupting from between your legs and reaching all the way down to the tip of your curled toes. It then rushed all the way up and exploded out of your mouth as a series of moans, whimpers, and pleas. 

When you finally came down your chest was rapidly rising and falling, as though you had ran a marathon. Pedro had pulled his finger out from you and was holding them in front of his face. You turned to look at him, your vision slightly blurry, and watched in awe as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

You pulled him to you, urging him to rest his weight on you, and kissed him. You kissed his neck, his sweat tasted sweet. You licked a line across his jugular vein and felt his rapid heartbeat under your tongue. 

“That was really good.” You said. “Your moans drive me crazy.” 

He rolled his hips against you and you moaned again. “Mmhm, just like that. You like this?” you nodded and he did it again. “What do you want now?” 

“You.” 

“You have me.” You looked over at him and gave him a look. “C’mon, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” he pressed his hips against you and arched an eyebrow. 

“Well… Okay…” you looked up, not wanting to reveal how flustered he made you. 

“Yes?” he cupped your jaw and kissed you. 

“I want you in me.” You finally said. 

“Lets get rid of these then, huh?” he said, tugging at your underwear. Pedro kissed his way down your torso until he was level with your hips. He hooked a finger around the band of your underwear and pulled it over your hips, knees, and, eventually, feet. He flicked them off to the side before taking you all in. “Fuck.” He said before planting a kiss right between your legs. He licked once before kissing your inner thigh. Then, he kissed his way back up to your lips. 

“Your turn.” You said, a smile tugging at your lips. Your hands went down to his underwear and you tugged it down, making him completely bare. You glanced down and let your mouth fall open. Pedro wrapped his hand around himself and pumped it a couple times. 

“I’m on the pill.” You blurted out. 

“That’s good.” He said, smiling down at you. 

“Are you- like, clean?” 

“Yes, even though I’m an actor-” 

“And a heartthrob.” You interjected. 

“Yes, right.” He laughed as he made his way back to you. “- I don’t go sleeping around with everyone.” 

“No, yeah, right, I didn’t meant that. Just…” 

“I’m messing, I know what you meant and yes I am. You?” 

You nodded. 

You reached your hands out and placed them on his shoulders, they were broad and warm, his skin felt reassuring under your fingers. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Pedro lined himself up and momentarily pushed his hips forward. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes, your legs squeezing him. 

“Hey, relax, okay?” he kissed you gently and you nodded, relaxing your thighs. He pushed in a little more and you let out a moan. He was stretching and filling you up in all the right ways. He pushed even more and you gripped his shoulders. His head fell beside yours, his voice was sweet like honey and reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed. His words were carefully and perfectly chosen. 

Finally, he was all the way in. He groaned and rested his weight on you. He was heavy but it felt oddly reassuring, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, causing him to inch further into you. 

“Please, Pedro, move.” You urged. 

He complied and slowly pulled himself out halfway before sliding back inside. Each movement causing you to moan his name. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his, as he picked up the pace. Your hands were desperately moving up and down his back, one slid down to his ass and you gave it a squeeze. He didn’t seem to mind so you squeezed again. This time he reacted, he pulled himself further out and slammed into you. The noise of his flesh against yours was almost deafening. 

You grabbed his hair and pulled so he turned to look at you. His eyes were half closed, and mouth half opened. You kissed him and he kissed back with a force to match his thrusts. You felt him go deeper and deeper. His hands went to your face, cupping your cheek. You squeezed your legs around him. 

“Can I go on top?” you asked, pulling your lips away from his. 

“Yes, of course.” 

You both awkwardly rolled over and gasped at the new angle. His hands went to your hips, thumbs slowly drawing circles onto the soft skin. You spread your legs and moaned as you sunk further onto him. That feeling that drove you wild was starting to build up again in your lower abdomen. 

His hands started to guide you, urging you to rock forwards and backwards. You gladly complied, moaning at how gratifying it felt. One of his hand went to your left breasts and squeezed it. You leaned towards him and kissed him. His lips were a taste you could not get enough of. His tongue danced around yours at a beautiful pace. You pulled yourself up slightly and lowered again. He gasped. You did it again. He gasped again. 

“You like that?” you said. 

He kissed you harder and began lifting his hips to meet you halfway. As though this was a dance you had practiced for many hours in order to perfect, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. His hand squeezed, tongue licked, hips bucked. It was perfect but it couldn’t last long. 

“I think I’m close.” He said, almost apologetic. 

“Please cum in me.” You begged, surprised at how pathetic you sounded. 

In one quick motion, Pedro spun you around, holding you tight against his chest as he did so. He grabbed your hands and pinned them over your head with just one of his and resumed the thrusting of his hips. Then, his other hand settled between the two of you and his thumb began rapidly circling your clit. 

You moaned and moved, chest pressed against his, legs wrapped around him and quickly squeezed. His movements were becoming irregular and sloppy. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. I’ve been staring at you all night in that dress. You’re - shit - fucking perfect.” He said as he pounded into you one last time before grunting in pleasure. 

Just then, the overwhelming feeling that had been building itself deep inside of you toppled over. 

“Don’t stop.” You said as you felt him slow down. 

Pedro listened and bucked his hips hard. You pushed your shoulders into the bed, hands tightly gripping his hair, and let yourself enjoy the pleasure. You rolled your hips against him, hyper aware of the warmth shooting into you. You collapsed into the bed, chest heaving even faster that before. 

Pedro collapsed onto you, his weight comfortably crushing you. You stroked his hair as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 

“Was that also really good?” his voice was muffled. 

“Even more.” You said, happily sighing. Pedro pulled away from you as you whined in protest, him leaving your body felt like a betrayal. You were left empty, cold, and bare.

“Gotta get you cleaned up, mi amor.” He laughed. 

He walked into the bathroom and you grinned at the sight. He had an amazing ass. Fuck, you couldn’t look away. You rolled over in the bed to get a better view. Your smiled grew even more when he turned around, his boner not fully gone yet. 

“Damn.” You said. 

“Thanks?” He plopped down on the bed with a towel in hand and helped you get cleaned up. 

Then, you slid under the duvet. He clicked into placed behind you, his arms wrapping around you and dwarfing you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and let his fingers dance over your thigh. And into the darkness, he spoke your name. 

“I don’t know what that meant to you…” He began. “But that was special to me. I’ve honestly been wanting to do that for a long while.” 

You froze as though remaining as still as possible would also freeze the moment, like any sound would shatter this dream and forcibly pull you back to a cruel and lonely reality.

“And, erm, you?” he nervously asked when you remained silent. 

You rolled around and stared up at him. “Me too, Pedro. I really like you and not just as a friend.” You smiled and kissed him. 

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him. You gasped when you felt something poking your butt. 

“Put that away!” 

“You don’t want a round two?” he smirked. 

“Pedro!”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #perdo pascal x reader #perdo pascal friends to lovers #perdo pascal x reader smut #javier peña smut #din djarin smut #smut #fanfic #im backkkk #it is me #i have returned from the dead #sorry #perdo pascal fluff #perdo pascal x reader fluff

[gothgleek]

How Many Licks? (Just Bite It)

Angus Tully x fem!reader

Summary: You work at the University’s mail room sorting packages and trying to keep yourself from boredom. However- not that you would ever admit it out loud- you look forward to Thursday afternoons when Angus Tully stops by.

Based on my post Dominic Sessa looking like he bites people.

Word Count: 1,900+

Notes: She/her pronouns, Afab reader, Christmas mention, biting, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, semi-public sex, sex at the workplace, overstimulation, quickies, reader being a brat, calling each other ‘slut’, everyone involved is over the age of 18

Notes: Huge thank you to my friend, Mera for helping me come up with what to call Angus because there is no way I’m moaning that name either fictionally or irl. It’s like moaning ‘Ulysses’ or ‘Cornelius.’ Please be nice as this is the first fanfic I’ve ever posted on Tumblr and first ever reader insert I’ve ever written. I tried being as neutral as possible when describing physical features but please let me know if there is anything that takes you out. Specifically I tried saying bite marks instead of bruises because not all skin tones bruise easily but I’m sure I missed some.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated 💕💕💕

Minors DNI

Your bright red stockings paired well with your wool black dress that hits you mid-thigh. You couldn’t see Angus from this angle, but you could feel his gaze rising up your legs and to the garter belt as you climbed the ladder. You knew he was a boob man but it was too cold for a v-neck dress. You put his package on the top shelf specifically so you could show off your legs when he arrived.

“Thanks, I got them Black Friday shopping.” You tell him, stepping down the ladder, his package on your hip. “Which is what I assume this is?” You shake the box in your hands. It’s not heavy but you can tell it’s packed to the brim.

“Hope so,” You hear him unwrap a lollipop and pop it in his mouth. You cringe as you hear him bite the lollipop.

You step off the ladder and tuck the box under your breasts, pushing them up more. “If you keep biting them, I’m going to start hiding them when you stop by.”

He smiles obnoxiously. “Then you would’ve hid them away by now.”

You roll your eyes, putting the box on the counter. “It’s disgusting.”

“No, it’s actually pretty tasty,” He smirked and took the used lollipop stick out of his mouth. “Wanna guess what flavor it is?” Angus sticks his artificially red tongue out.

“You’re such a slut.” You roll your eyes and shake your head.

---

The piles of new shipments kept the two of you hidden from the public eye as Angus got on his knees, pushing you against the wall. Your stockings had been quickly disposed of, tossed over his shoulder before you could say anything. His mouth was on your left knee, pressing a kiss as he opened your legs. One warm hand rests on your stomach, balancing himself.

He places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss on your inner thigh, above your knee. He licked upwards and bit down, sucking on the flesh between his teeth. He mirrors his actions on your left thigh. You hissed, knowing (and loving) that it would leave marks.

“You smell fucking amazing,” He says against your skin, his big brown eyes looking up at you. Motivated by your scent, Angus’s kisses get sloppier and while his bites are quicker, it is no less painful as he moves upward your legs. You glanced at the entrance to the office, double checking you could freely respond to his actions.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” Angus said smirking, the cold air making your clit pulse. His thumb lightly moved over your lace covered pussy.

“Did you get jealous of the lollipop? The way I licked,” You jumped as his tongue touched your clit, the lace of your panties adding to the friction. “And bit?” His teeth graze against it.

“God, you’re such a dirty slut,” You tell him, only half teasing.

“And you’re a loud slut,” Angus teases and pushes your dress upwards. “Bite on this.”

You wordlessly accepted and clamp down on the polyester fabric. He slowly pulled down your red panties to show him your beautiful pussy. Since your lower half and most of your torso was visible, Angus greedily took in the sight of your bare stomach and underboob. He kisses your clit and spits on it. He traces his tongue over the sensitive nub and gives you slow, deliberate licks, creating a bigger mess between your thighs.

You let out muffled moans, your fingers tangled in his curly hair and grinding your hips for more friction. Angus once told you he would die a happy man if that meant being between your legs. Today is a good day to test that. You grip his hair, forcing his mouth to wrap around your clit, an action he responds to with a hum of approval. The vibrations make your hips roll and back arch. You can feel him laugh because he knows he has you where he wants you but you cannot care about that now. You hold his head there, pleading whimpers begging for more. Angus removes his hands from your pussy so he could grip your thighs for balance but makes no effort to loosen your grip.

Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take you long to reach your peak. Not when his mouth is making you feel so, so good. Your dress falls down as your mouth opens, a strangled cry echoing in the room, and your nails dig into his scalp as you cum. Angus keeps licking you as if you’re not melting around his mouth. As if your legs are not shaking in his hands from overstimulation. Eventually you cannot take it anymore and you have to push him away. Still, he licks up the mess you’ve created on your thighs before standing to face you with a satisfied smirk.

The intensity of your orgasm leaves you feeling dizzy so his hands stay on your hips as he rises. Though his face is painted with arrogance, Angus gently sits you on the table your boss reserved for processing packages. He lifts your dress over your head and tosses it to the side, impatiently but gently. Your nipples pebble because of the cold air and his lustful gaze.

Eyes never leaving yours, Angus unbuckles his belt and pulls his cock out. He pushed you against the table, kissing you at the same time. You wrap your arms around his neck as you taste his mouth- a combination of your pussy and his strawberry lollipop.

His hand gently pushed your thighs wider as his other hand slipped a finger between your entrance. His thumb gently rubbed your clit in exactly the way you taught him so you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your mouth. He slid another finger in and you gasped out a “Yes!” You rode his fingers, chasing your pleasure. Your moans ricocheting off the walls, not caring how slutty you acted.

But he cared.

Angus pulled away from your breast, not bothering to wipe away the string of spit connecting his lips to your breast. The hand on your thigh paused your movements and his fingers slowed.

“Tell me you’re my slut,” he smirked. You whined in response. “Come on, say it.”

He gently lays you back on the table and takes his shirt off. Angus turned around to see the clock on the wall ticking down the minutes until your boss came back from lunch.

“Tick tock.” He said, emphasizing each word with the tap of his cock on your entrance. “Tick, tock.”

You had no doubt he would elongate this. Last time you pushed your luck, you weren’t caught, but you didn’t you cum either. Angus had the biggest shit eating grin when he came in the following day and you begged him to fuck you.

But you still weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

And he knew that.

“How does it feel to be a slut?” He murmured against your ear. Angus buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting down and pulling satisfied moans out of your mouth. “To be my slut?”

“I’m not your slut,” You protested between your moans.

He stopped biting your neck to simply nip at it, moving downwards to your breasts. Your trembling fingers grabbed at the curls on the back of his head, encouraging him. Agnus took a nipple into his hot mouth causing your left hand to dig into his shoulder and your right hand to pull his hair. Angus let out a muffled moan of pleasure and sucked on your nipple harder. There was tension building in your stomach but you couldn’t release it until you were around him.

“Say it,” Angus said as he alternated between your breasts. “Say it and I’ll fuck you.”

“Fine! I’m a slut!” You cried. “I’m your slut! Now please! Fuck me!”

Angus chuckled and slid into you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His eyes fluttered as he felt your heat surround his cock. He stared down at you as he found his rhythm. his fingers finding your clit again. Angus’s fingers moved in the same rhythm as his hips.He moved his hips faster, forcing your back to arch off the desk. Moaning, you clenched around his cock.

Angus kept his pace but his mouth suctioned around your breast as his tongue swirled around your nipple faster. The hand not on your clit reached over to grab your other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Keep going…” You whined, almost begging. The tension was reaching its peak. “So… close…”

Hearing you cry out, Angus pulled away from your beast and watched you fall apart.

He tried to fuck you through your orgasm but he couldn’t help but he wasn’t far behind you. Not when pleasure washed over your face. Not when you squeezed him like that. Not when your voice echoed like that in the small room. With a stuttering groan, Angus came inside your pussy while biting your shoulder.

Your legs loosened around his waist as your body relaxed but your pussy still clenched around his twitching cock, taking every drop of him. Angus’s body relaxed and his mouth loosened its grip on your shoulder. But you can feel his teeth scraping against your tender skin. He pressed gentle, open mouth kisses against your neck as he pulled out of you. You whimpered as he did that, already missing him inside you.

Tiredly and lazily, he kissed his way down your body until he got to his knees again. Angus spread your legs again, watching his cum dripping out of you and pooling on the table. You felt his mouth cover your pussy once again. Though tired, you couldn’t help but arch your back a little when you felt his tongue lap at your sensitive pussy, cleaning you. Angus pulled away before you could cum, though you are thankful he did as your body was not ready to accept another orgasm.

He helped you to your feet and kissed you gently on the mouth. You returned the kiss, leaning against him for balance. However, your orgasms still left you a little tired so you had to break the kiss to retain your balance. Not that Angus minded, he still kissed you, this time peppering them on your neck. Your hands loosely held his neck before you noticed the clock.

“Unless you have a turtleneck for me in that package, don’t you dare leave another hickey on my neck,” You told him as your wits came back to you and he laughed against your skin. He kissed your neck and went to his package on the counter.

“As a matter of fact,” He said, tearing it open and digging around, not caring he was still naked. “I do.”

He pulled out a knit black sweater with a thick, folded turtleneck. You accepted it and marveled at how soft it was.

“For me?” Your eyes were wide.

“Yeah, well, you always complain it’s cold down here, ” Angus shrugged nonchalantly but you could see color rising to his cheeks.

“Plus you know,” He brushed your hair off your shoulder. “It’ll hide those bite marks I left behind.”

You look down at your body to see a map of bite marks and bruises identical to his mouth and fingers. You snatched your new sweater from his hands and threw it on.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #angus tully imagine #angus tully smut #the holdovers #smut #fanfic #reader insert #mine

[frozenjokes]

A Mermaid Learns English, Races Clams, And Breaks Up What Was Definitely A Vicious Human Fight

I’ve decided to post these ‘one shots’ on tumblr as well since y’all seemed to enjoy the last one

With the passing of a couple days, Mumbo was beginning to pick up on a few more human words. There was ‘Hey!’ to get Grian’s attention and ‘Look!’ to get Grian’s attention and ‘Clam!’ to get Grian’s attention, all of these words usually used in quick succession. However, Mumbo was most proud of figuring out the human pronoun. He. That’s what it was. Scar was a he and Grian was a he and they had both considered Mumbo a he, which was cute! It was like Mumbo was an honorary human with hes and hims just like them, how sweet! (And they were okay with that! Excited even! He was excited, yeah, look at that! He! Me!) How many other animals did they consider to also be human? Did humans even use separate pronouns for their own species and others? Maybe every animal was just a really big or really tiny human to them.

Regardless. After learning about human pronouns, Mumbo learned that Scar and Grian talked about him constantly. Constantly! They talked like Mumbo wasn’t there, even when he very much was, and he knew, because whenever they bothered to include Mumbo in their conversations about him, they would be looking directly at him. At first it was flattering, and then it was a little bit annoying, and currently it’s been quite frustrating! What are you squawking about? Tell me! Mumbo made sure to let them know how he felt. He got pushy, getting in their space (never closer than a few feet), but they didn’t seem to register that as aggression at all, in fact, Scar never looked anything less than delighted. Utterly confusing! Though, Scar in particular was quite physically affectionate with his human friend.. was that how humans always acted, or was something wrong with that one’s head. Grian didn’t seem to reciprocate very much, sometimes pushing the other off of him or simply doing nothing (looking generally displeased, though that’s how he always looked), but who knows! Humans were weird and apparently not very protective of their own space.

“Look! Look at that, Grian, he’s getting so comfortable with us! He gets closer every day, isn’t that great?” Scar waved his arms around carelessly, and Mumbo had to shimmy back to avoid being touched.

“I don’t know about that. Can’t tell. He doesn’t emote very much, does he?”

‘Will you two quit talking about me.’ That got their attention, whistling clicks always did, but when they didn’t hear a word they recognized (their names), they just stared before going back to chatting with each other. Fine. Be that way, then. Mumbo was hungry anyway.

So he left, trying to throw in a bit of petty flair, but Mumbo didn’t have to look back to know the gesture went over their heads. Given the splint still holding his sore tail in place, Mumbo doubted a mermaid would have understood either. Ugh. Hunting was going to take ages like this.

And it did.

Mumbo spent an hour in deeper water getting batted around by currents and the like, but chasing fish as he usually did had been out of the question since getting stuck in Grian’s net. So he had to wait. Wait for fish to come to him.

Mumbo was not very good at waiting.

It wasn’t that he was an impatient person. He could be plenty patient when he needed to be, but Mumbo was also a fidgety mer, and typically fish aren’t too keen on swimming very close to the visibly hungry big thing with sharp teeth.

He did not get many fish today. He did not get many fish yesterday. He did not get many fish all week. Maybe there was a reason he was starting to get so irritable.

Regardless, Mumbo wasn’t too worried about starving or even losing all that much weight; if he was really having problems he would just have to take a detour back home to the deep and get fixed up. He could go today if he wanted. But he didn’t, not really. The humans would miss him! They would wonder where he had gone. (Not that Mumbo would be thinking of them as well, worried about what they were getting up to. But humans were so fragile, and these two in particular seemed to have impaired survival instincts. What if Mumbo left, came back, and they were gone? What if he never saw them again?) Needless to say, Mumbo was only going hungry for normal, sane reasons. Maybe he could steal some of the humans’ food, though, they hardly ate anything at all. Wouldn’t be worth the grief.

When Mumbo returned, hungry and irritated about still being hungry, Scar was looking for clams. That seemed to be his favorite activity, sifting through the sand, digging up clams, piling them up, then at the end of day, scattering them back in the sand. Today, Scar was lining up his clams on the shore, letting them sit in the sun for whatever reason. Mumbo wondered if he ever planned on eating them, or if the clams were just toys to humans. Maybe Scar didn’t understand how to get inside them? Mumbo snorted, bubbles floating to the surface. Humans probably thought the clams would just open up for them if they waited long enough.

But not even his sour mood could withstand Scar’s bright smile as the human spotted Mumbo returning; its entire body lit up, every single encounter met with the same excitement as the first time it saw him. Sure, Mumbo was more easily flattered than most mermaids he knew, but anyone would break under the weight of that joy. Was Scar that excited to see everyone, or was it just him? He hoped Scar knew he felt similarly. He wished he could tell him.

Scar’s attention quickly shifted back to the sand though, bending over to sift through with a hand then plucking a clam out of the water. “Oooh this is a big one!”

Across the water, sitting on a rocky outcrop, Grian rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you’ve shown me that same clam every day since you first got here.”

“It’s big though!”

“It is pretty big.”

“Do you think she’ll win?”

“The- did you finally remember to bring nail polish? And I don’t know, I’ll have to take a look at all of them before I decide.” Grian went back to fishing (and Mumbo was keeping a closer eye than he’d like to admit on the line), but Scar seemed satisfied, taking his bounty to the shore to line it up with the ten or so other clams.

“Well you’d better get ready, because our athletes are all lined up! They’re revving to go, Grian! You should look before they speed away! They’re chomping at the bit I tell you, they’re gonna run right away if you don’t come and look right now.”

Grian made a small noise of assent, not moving. “I'm in no rush.” He re-cast his line.

Scar huffed, trotting to his bag (which Mumbo couldn’t help but notice was placed very far from the shore, what was up with that anyway? Did they not trust him? They could trust him. Come on, no harm in putting them a little closer to the water..) and producing a small vial. Mumbo dragged himself a little closer to inspect it as Scar sat back with his clams. It smelled weird.

“What,” Mumbo said in human, another very useful word he’d learned, and Scar smiled, unscrewing the top.

“We paint our..” he paused, thinking, before gesturing to his dull claws, “Nails.” With the brush attached to the cap, he drew some of the brightly colored liquid inside across one of his ‘nails’, coloring it. Huh. So humans painted their skin just like mermaids did sometimes, very interesting. Unfortunately, Mumbo didn’t have the materials to show him. Scar examined his hand thoughtfully when he finished, throwing Mumbo a soft smile. “This won’t last. I’ll save it for the clams.”

With great care, Scar began to examine his clams one by one, picking them up and spinning them in his hands, saying something about names to Grian, then painting little symbols on the shells once they were dry enough. But why? Mumbo got the sense Scar was preparing them for something- to eat, maybe? Mumbo have never actually seen either human prepare any food; they seemed to bring pre-hunted meals with them every day. Was this.. part of the process..? Why in the world would they name their food?

Well. It was possible Scar wasn’t trying to eat and Mumbo was just thinking about food due to his own hunger. But then what was the point!

Apparently, the painting activity piqued Grian’s interest despite his previous dismissal, a common trend for that human it seemed. Despite holding a somewhat stubborn facade of disinterest, he was quick to contribute a name, and eventually, stopped fishing altogether to check out what Scar was working on.

“This one will be Jellie, the cutest, prettiest, fastest clam,” Scar said, practically shoving one of the clams in Grian’s face. Mumbo couldn’t quite make out the symbol painted on it, (none of the human symbols meant anything to him) but Grian seemed to understand, reaching insistently for the paint in Scar’s other hand. Scar held it out of reach, leaning away, but not without a smile on his face. “What? You don’t like Jellie?”

“Let me make one.”

“I thought you didn’t care about clam racing,” Scar grinned as he shoved back, Grian stumbling a bit in the sand before scrambling back to Scar, throwing himself across the other’s arms in a way that made Mumbo’s fins stand on end. What were they doing? Why were they fighting? Was it about food?

“You can’t put Jellie in the race without Maui and Pearl. At least one of them! I want to draw them.”

“There’s only so many slots for the race, Grian. I’m afraid your cats didn’t make the cut, very sorry, very very sorry.”

“You haven’t even painted all of them yet!” Grian said, in a tone that could have been a growl, though Mumbo had never heard a human make that noise before. Grian pushed at Scar’s face, and Scar laughed(?) hurriedly trying to cap the paint before he dropped it. Grian climbed onto Scar’s back, but as soon as the paint was secure, Scar fell backwards, howling as he crushed Grian in the sand behind him. Grian squeaked, the breath knocked from him, but it wasn’t long before he was squabbling under Scar’s weight, clawing and pushing and being very loud in tones that made Mumbo’s skin crawl. He had to stop them somehow- they were going to hurt each other!

Mumbo tried whistling, ‘Stop, stop, stop,’ but they were too preoccupied in their wrestling, Scar yelping as Grian poked at his eyes. He meant to call their names, but his voice wouldn’t form the human words, even names, the sounds refusing to materialize on his tongue. The humans were close to the water, close enough to splash maybe, but Mumbo’s use of his tail was so limited with his splint and the water was so shallow. Who knew if he’d even be able to kick up enough water to distract them, or if they would even stop? If he was going to hurt himself, better to make sure it counted for something.

Mumbo closed his eyes, bracing himself before heaving out of the water and grabbing Scar’s arms with his hands and a shoulder in his jaws, yanking backward. Two things were immediately clear; one, Mumbo failed to remember how small and weak and light-weight humans were, and two, their skin was so fragile. All this to say, Mumbo was thoroughly stunned at how far back he pulled Scar, and even more alarmed to taste blood, the shock at both of these two things overpowering even the electric pain in his tail. Scar yelled and Grian shrieked, and suddenly everything was just too frightening and overwhelming and Mumbo needed to be away, away, instinct so strong, he pushed away with a strong flick of his tail despite the splints, agony shooting up his body. But in a way, that was okay. He was gone. All he needed was to be gone.

But being alone and safe from the noise gave way to thought, and in a way, that was worse.

He felt bad. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know if he had hurt Scar, or how badly- he hadn’t meant to! He didn’t want anyone to get hurt at all! Mumbo buried his face in his arms, hiding from the sunlit surface. Mermaid fights were nasty things, and it usually took multiple sets of teeth to dislodge one mer from another, not to injure of course, just to hurt enough to get them to see sense and release each other, which, honestly, was a hassle in it of itself; mermaids with long tails could get all sorts of tangled. Why was human skin so thin! Were they built to die!?

Distantly, Mumbo heard the humans talking. Grian was saying Scar’s name an awful lot, loud as he always was, and it sounded like they were arguing even more than before. Mumbo buried his face deeper into his arms. He hadn’t even made a difference.

Then, splashing. A lot of splashing, both humans by the sound of it, but the second source quickly stopped short at one, big splash and- oh.

Mumbo lifted his head, and there was Scar, swimming directly toward him. There was a definite bite mark in his shoulder, still bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be bothering him at all, the human still swimming strongly. Mumbo put his head back in the sand.

“Mumbo! Hey, Mumbo!” The words were barely recognizable under the water, but Mumbo didn’t care to hear them anyway. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to move. Everything hurt and he was hungry and all he did was make everything worse. Humoring the human with zero survival instincts wasn’t going to make him feel any better. The human lingered regardless, though mercifully kept its distance. It got air several times before finally realizing Mumbo didn’t want to talk and eventually, after what felt like ages, it left him alone. The lack of disturbance in the water was a sensory relief. Still, he heard the humans talking above the water.

“Still think he was trying to kill me, Grian? Seriously. He feels awful, the poor thing. We probably set him off or something, I don’t know. Like how some animals can’t tell the difference when we raise our voices playfully or because we’re mad.”

Grian took a long time to respond, but when he did, his voice was stony, “That was extremely stupid, Scar.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You don’t know what he was thinking. You don’t know! Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person here who gives a shit about your life. That’s not a person, Scar, that is an animal, an animal that has been documented as something that eats people. I don’t care if he ‘looks sad,’ personifying him like that directly after he attacks you is going to get you killed. Even if he is ‘sad,’ jumping right in after him is an objectively insane thing to do! You could have set him off a second time and there would have been nothing either of us could do. I- Honestly, Scar, I really shouldn’t be having to tell you this! You know this! You own a god damn zoo!”

“I don’t agree.”

“What do you mean you don’t agree? What about?”

“I think he’s a person. And I think we have the opportunity to do something really special here, so I’m not going to throw it away over a dumb misunderstanding.”

Another pause from Grian, longer this time. “Scar.” Scar didn’t say anything and Grian didn’t either for a while, long enough that Mumbo thought the conversation was over. It wasn’t though, apparently. “Can’t you wait? Wait until he comes back to us? We’d know he’s calm at least, safe.”

“No. He might be flighty and I really don’t want to scare him off from this. I just have to make sure he knows we’re good.” Another pause, but Mumbo got the impression it was more from a lack of things to say. It didn’t last long though, Grian breaking the silence after a bit of shuffling.

“Hey- what are you doing, Scar you can’t- those are my fish.”

“How much do you sell these ones for? I’ll pay a better rate.”

“No. No, absolutely not. No. This is the bad idea to trump all bad ideas, I am not going to let you throw away your life trying to feed- Scar, come on, I’m trying to work with you here and you’re being impossible!”

“I won’t take them if you say no.”

“I’m saying no! I’m saying no, Scar, I’m saying no so stop- stop looking at me like that.”

“This whole thing means a lot to me, Grian, I just want to preserve it.”

“Well you mean a lot to me and you don’t seem to care at all! How can you just stand here and be okay with throwing your life away- do the people that love you mean nothing to you? Do you even think about it? I think about it! It drives me crazy when you just-“ Grian made a strangled noise, “Don’t! Think!”

More silence, the heaviness permeating the water as much as the air.

“I won’t go in. I just need a fish. The smallest one you got.”

“You won’t go in?”

“I won’t go in. I promise. And I’ll pay for it, I mean it. I’ll pay for everything you caught today if this works out.”

If Grian said something, Mumbo didn’t hear it, only hearing the muffled shuffling of above-water activity that went on for ages. Eventually, he heard the telltale splash of Grian’s lure from the other side of the cove. The whir of the reel was nice; a soft white noise.

Not so nice was the massive splash right above his head, frightening Mumbo off the sand in a cloud of dust, frantically looking around for the source of the noise. He smelled the blood before he saw the fish, eyes widening at the sight of it. Certainly dead, but also fresh, the kill just about as clean as it gets; if Mumbo had found this in the wild, he would have assumed it had been sick and avoided it, but the little gash in its face was a clear enough indicator on how this was caught. The rock tied crudely to its tail with fishing line was a bit of a clearer sign of human intervention.

After calming his racing heart, Mumbo drifted over to inspect it, somewhat painfully aware of Scar’s eyes on him from the shore. Was this a gift? Mumbo touched the fish gingerly, then flinched back. It was cold. Why was it so cold? Did humans have some sort of cooling ability Mumbo didn’t know about? He was pretty sure he’d have heard about a thing like that. Hunger stopped that train of thought. The fish was a small thing, not much in the scheme of things, but right now Mumbo would take anything. After a short inspection (and removing the rock), Mumbo devoured the whole thing, pleased.

Maybe this was okay. Scar clearly wanted Mumbo to know he wasn’t angry, and while he still wasn’t sure about Grian, maybe there was something proactive he could do about it.

Mumbo didn’t even surface before swimming deeper, straining with his injured tail. His foray onto land might have broken his splint; it sat uncomfortably now at the sides of his already throbbing scales, but there was nothing Mumbo could do about it now. That would have to be a later fix.

As much as his tail hurt, Mumbo really wanted to catch something fast, and at this point, it was sort of feeling like he was already going to be in pain for awhile, so why not make this hunt quick. He didn’t go deep, hardly much deeper than Grian’s fishing lines, but deep enough to catch an alright sized fish if he could push through the pain enough to chase it properly. He was still patient; Mumbo wasn’t about to swim after every fish he saw, but in the end he did end up giving chase more than intended, and by the time he had something suitable, his entire body felt like it was on fire. But that was okay. Now he could deliver his own peace offering.

And it was a good thing he surfaced when he did; Mumbo had gotten a bit worried when he stopped hearing Grian’s lure, and it turned out that was because the two humans were getting ready to leave. Alright. Fine, good even.

As much as he longed to eat the fish he had caught, Mumbo still dropped it to whistle, ‘Scars,’ and both humans turned around, surprise coloring their faces. Not a particularly bad emotion, Mumbo hoped. He brought his fish to the shallows, wincing heavily as his tail touched the sand, the splint hanging off and bumping it in increasingly uncomfortable ways.

“Oh! Mumbo, you shouldn’t have, really!” Scar met Mumbo near the water, and while Grian hesitated, he joined his fellow human, though lingered a little further back. Mumbo dropped his fish, though Scar didn’t take it, only looking to Grian, “Can you use that?”

Grian grimaced, “No, probably not. I mean, I’m sure we could eat it, but it’s a bit mutilated. I definitely can’t sell it.”

Scar nodded, turning back to Mumbo, “You keep it. Unless you’re not hungry, but I feel like I barely ever see you eat. I guess you don’t really know what I’m saying, I’m probably just confusing you by talking this much, aren’t I.” Mumbo stared. Scar stared back. Why wasn’t he taking it?

Mumbo craned his neck forward, straining to grab the fish again to drop it closer. Moving across the sand felt like dragging himself across magma, and he couldn’t help the small hiss that escaped through his gritted teeth. When he managed to open his eyes, Scar’s head was cocked to the side, and he still hadn’t taken the fish.

“I think he’s hurt,” Scar said, soft and sympathetic, “Whatever’s attached to his tail looks kinda broken, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure he is, he’s been swimming oddly all week, and a couple weeks before is when he got caught in my net and bit me. He was really tangled, I think his tail was at a bit of an odd angle. I think whatever’s attached is a splint to keep it somewhat still- did you not think so?”

“No??”

“What did you think was on his tail?”

“I don’t know! I thought it was like- mermaid fashion? How was I supposed to know!”

“I thought that was a joke!”

‘Will one of you just take the damn fish!’ Mumbo whistled, irritated by the bickering and quite honestly, a little concerned they were going to start fighting again. Thankfully, the humans stopped, both staring at Mumbo again with wide eyes.

“I think he wants you to take the fish, Scar.”

“I don’t want the fish! I want him to have it!”

“Well right now he probably feels like you don’t like his gift. Does the bloody mess in the water not appeal to you?”

“You know I’ve seen worse.”

“Then take it!”

Scar frowned, bending over to gingerly touch the fish, though he didn’t look like he was all too thrilled about it. Did humans.. not eat fish? They must, surely they must, humans fish all the time! But the way Scar was holding the fish away from his body, touching it with as little of his hand as possible, Mumbo was really starting to think they didn’t eat fish. Why were humans so weird? Though, Grian seemed to be laughing at his friend, so maybe Scar was the weird one. Mumbo wouldn’t be surprised.

“I want you to have this,” Scar said, slowly extending his arm back toward Mumbo, and Grian seemed to find it extra funny when Mumbo huffed, but ultimately accepted the returned gift. Whatever. He was still hungry and had absolutely zero intention of letting this go to waste.

And.. that was that.

Mumbo retreated to deeper water where his tail felt a little less like his scales were going to peel off his skin, and the humans left soon after, the clearing returning back to its tranquil quiet. Not a great day, definitely not, but maybe that was just part of learning. Interspecies relations were never going to be easy with all the different customs and body language. Mumbo had little idea how Scar and Grian were feeling most of the time, and honestly, no matter how stressful they could be, he was grateful they were so expressive. Gosh, reading him must be a nightmare; mermaids didn’t emote nearly as much. Mumbo had tried copying some human expressions on his own time, but he was pretty sure he physically couldn’t, just lacking the facial muscles. Strange. Strange..

But good too. This was still good. And as much as Mumbo really should be headed back home for more help with his tail, right now, there was still no place he’d rather be than here.

#hermitcraft #gtws #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

[ayylovley]

i’ve read somewhere that Sam’s aftercare would be the best so <4 - What their aftercare is like> for Sam, please? 🥹🥹 also Jake if possible bc he’s the sweetest boy ever 💕

Depending on how he feels about you and to me I’d think Jake would be the sweetest (Vasco too but I say Jake cuz he’s one of the only Lookism guys that would fuck you like a slut and then you’d have the sweetest aftercare)

4. after care with sameuel and jake

Samuel Seo

The small flame lights the end of Samuel’s cigarette when he pressed his thumb pad down on the lighter’s spark-wheel, letting him inhale a long good drag of the nicotine after that amazingly good fuck that made his ego rise even more. Tipping his head back, his lips make a ‘O’ shape to blow out the thick cloud of smoke in the air. You could hear your boyfriend practically groan from that hit, as you lay next to him with your hazy eyes looking up at smoke fade and disappear into the musky bedroom.

Finally he speaks, “was it good enough to get you in the bath, baby? How’s your legs?”

He asked that question with some condescension that can’t be ignored. Still, you appreciate how sweet he is to you after being with you long enough to make him take care of you however you’d like afterwards. “No it’s ok I don’t need a bath tonight. My legs do hurt though. I like it when you massage my inner thighs, babe.”

A grin pulls on his lips, “You got it, baby cakes.”

Sticking the cigarette in between his teeth, he watches you roll over slightly spreading your legs for him to rub the places you felt the most pain in.

A soft moan escaped her lips, despite your core throbbing from how many times he’s made you cum, you can’t help but want more of his touch when his inked hands rub so hard against your skin yet knows how to be gentle. Hearing your sounds encourages Samuel to keep going, using the thumb that was just on the spark-wheel to light the cigarette that remains in his mouth to really dig onto the space dangerously close to the folds.

Using one hand to slip the stick away from his lips, he leans down in need of kissing your opened mouth when you’re moaning from his massages like that. His strong hands roam up your body, still being gentle and caressing places that left you just… euphoric.

The little sounds of both of your lips sliding, you feel his fingers lift your chin a little bit to have your eyes open and glance into his with a hazy sight.

“You’re so sexy, baby. I just can’t help but fuck you so hard that you’d barely form words or make a sound.”

Ugh! Moments like this, when he uses his cockiness with being so gentle yet making it clear he still wants you, it does something to you. Especially the long, slow, wet kisses in times like this just fold you. You didn’t want to lose this moment but your body screaming for him to go again, you want to savor this moment like you always do.

Because it’s rare when Samuel is soft like this.

Jake Kim

Jake was such a sweet boyfriend to you, you’d melt in his hands and arms after a long hardcore fuck session that left you not being able to move. But with his treatment and aftercare you can feel almost completely fine the next day.

After all, he’s a romantic through and through.

As you lay there absolutely exhausted and sweaty, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to stand in the shower. So with his strong arms, you’re scooped up from the bed having his muscles flex a little. You blush as you’re lifted up from the ground to be taken to the bathroom where down the hallway you can hear soft music playing, and already spot the lights off, but a flicker of candles were in your vision. You gush hard at this gesture that leaves your heart aching.

“Jake…”

Jake smiles softly hearing the appreciation in your voice when he took you to the tub and played you carefully in the bubbly water. The heat kissing your body makes you moan a little when the soreness that was taking over your inner thighs felt better instantly. The soft sultry music playing on his phone increased the relaxation. “Aren’t you gonna join me?” With a chuckle he nods and you shift your body slightly to let him step in with you. With you on his lap, you melt into him when your arms rest on his, his muscular arms wrap around your waist protectively. Just setting the mood for this romanticism more.

Jake looks at you with heart eyes, he never thought he’d find someone honestly and let alone someone he got so lucky with. Using every love language in the book, his lips lower to your ear to whisper sweet nothings. Making you practically lovesick.

“Your eyes just make me forget about the world around us. And I can just beg you to let me kiss those lips.”

Gushing and putty in his hands, your eyebrows thread softly. “My god I, I love you so much, Jake.” He knows what you’re feeling in this moment because he feels it too.

“I love you more, (Y/N).”

#damn jake’s got gushy as hell #lookism comic #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism

[rejectedbytheempty]

TRAPPED PT. 2

a/n: okay wow i didn’t think that many ppl would want a part 2 lmao. sorry, i’ve been busy w schoolwork but i finally got around to writing the second part 🙏🙏

previous part

tw: sewing up a wound? idk it’s not very graphic but i feel like it should be noted

“How could I be so stupid!” Villain cried out, running their hands up their face, then pushing the heels of their palms against their eyes.

They sighed deeply and let their hands fall to their sides before glancing over at Hero. They were just sitting there, staring at a random point on the floor. It shocked Villain to see how pale their face had gotten, “God, Hero. I’m- Christ, I don’t even know what to do. Say something, please. Yell at me, punch me, do something.”

Hero didn’t seem to even register that Villain was speaking, they just sat there, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Shit, I’m going to help you, you’re going to be okay. I promise, Hero,” Villain said, it felt almost like they were talking to the wall of their prison cell.

“Hello? Is there anyone there?” Villain called out, half expecting no one to answer but in a moment a face peeked around the corner, someone that Villain assumed was the guard Supervillain left to keep them in check. However, the guard looked scared half out of their mind.

“Yes?” They answered. Villain had to hold back a grin, it was good to know that they still had that effect on people.

“We need medical supplies in here, Hero is practically bleeding out.”

The guard swallowed nervously, “Um, I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you anything.”

Villain rolled their eyes, “Right, which would make sense if I asked you for a sword or something, but I doubt I could get very far with a roll of gauze.”

The guard bit their lip, running the options through their mind for a moment before nodding, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Villain muttered to themselves as the guard left.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Villain quickly turned to see Hero laying there, their eyes glistening with tears.

“I shouldn’t have come here, all I’ve done is mess things up. Escape while you have a chance, so both of us don’t have to be stuck here,” Hero managed to rasp out.

Villain shook their head, “Don’t talk like that. I’ll get you patched up and we’ll find a way out of here, it was my fault we’re here in the first place.” Just then the guard came back with the supplies, opening the cell door and handing them to Villain. For a moment, Villain glanced at the open door, freedom was right there. All they had to do was subdue the guard and make it out before anyone notices they are gone. In the corner of their eye, however, lay Hero, shivering and pale. They ripped their gaze from the door and quickly snatched the kit from the guard’s hands and turned to Hero. The resounding sound of a lock clicking echoed through their cell and Villain sighed, their shoulders slumping. Well, no turning back now, they thought. They shook their head to dispel those thoughts and got to work. It didn’t seem to be too bad of a wound, it was deep, but it was a clean cut.

“Okay, I’m going to pour some alcohol on it to clean it out, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but we don’t want it to get infected.”

Hero nodded, smiling softly, “It’s not as bad as looking at your face.”

Villain chuckled, “Right, why did I think that you were ever capable of being serious?” They then poured the liquid over the cut as Hero gritted their teeth together, sucking in a deep breath.

“See, I knew you could do it,” Villain smiled down at Hero who gave an exhausted laugh. From then on it was easy work, sewing the wound closed and wrapping gauze around Hero’s midsection to soak up any more blood and protect it from the grimey cell they were in.

“There, all done.” Hero grunted as they attempted to sit up, but Villain was quick to put a hand on Hero’s chest and back, leading them back to a laying down position.

“Christ, Hero, you’re not invincible. Don’t try doing anything too drastic,” Villain chided.

“Oh, right, I forgot” Hero said in a dazed tone, their eyes half lidded.

Villain drew back their hands, Hero now laying down flat on their cot, their blinks getting longer and longer as their adrenaline had now faded.

“You know what?” Hero asked, staring at Villain through their eyelashes, “I always thought you were pretty.”

Villain stared down at Hero in disbelief, heat rising to their cheeks, “I- what?” But Hero had already fallen asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady pattern. Villain stood there for a moment, face contorted in confusion before they let out a sharp laugh.

“God, Hero, you are something else” Villain chuckled to themself.

Reaching over, they ran their hand through Hero’s hair before tucking a loose strand of hair behind Hero’s ear. Villain quickly pulled their hand back, feeling as if they were snapping out of a trance, “Fuck, what am I doing?” They couldn’t afford connections, especially not with Hero. They had to remember where they were, who they were. I need to get out of here, before I do anything else stupid, Villain thought.

#medical inaccuracies #i am not a doctor #and it shows #villain x hero #hero x villain #hero #villain #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #writeblr #writing

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Cat, my ask is inspired by 'care- @yourheartonfire' I really hope you like it!

Please write a married!! villain who religiously indulges in their skin care, and a hero who really can't care less what they put on their skin. One night after them spending 2 rounds in horny jail, they're both up at 4am and after cleaning themselves, hero observes the villain indulging in their skin care routines, and upon spotting their lovely spouse the hero, they find their new target to perform skin care at.

Just when they remove hero's bath gown to apply body lotion (after much convincing ofc) they notice the array of hickies covering their entire body after 2 religious rounds of them in horny jail. Villain now needs to resist the hero, and take care of the hickeys and their hero's poor skin, but notising the way hero melts when they get their face massaged, and the little shivers passing thru them even after being for hours in hot shower, villain cant help but go for round 3 in horny jail!! and tho hero makes them promise no more hickies, they happily let themselves get carried away with their villain.

Well I hope ur comfortable writing this, absolutely no pressure :D I read @yourheartonfire 's care so many times its actually one of my fav!! But I would love to see a bit of your touch to it, really hope you don't mind and write a snippet like this one (with all your own touches obv)

Original :)

“I’ll be sore in the morning.”

“That’s the goal.” The villain’s smirk was undoubtedly of vicious nature. They could be quite sweet with all their big date plans and expensive vacations but the hero knew them by heart, knew their darkest sides and usually, the hero was the one in charge.

However, today, the villain seemed to be yearning for more than usual. Which wasn’t a bad thing, obviously.

But it made the hero wonder.

“Is this some new scheme of yours?” the hero asked as they got pushed back into the sheets. The villain found their neck and tried gentle nibs which, despite the carefulness, made the hero squeak in pain. The villain drew back and tried another spot, choosing kisses over teeth.

“Love, believe me. I would find kinder methods to stop you from working. I know you love this job,” they mumbled. “I can’t take that away from you, I’ve learnt that a long time ago.”

For a moment, they just stared at the hero and the hero really, really felt lucky to have married someone so diligent. The villain was always eager to do more than was expected of them. Their goals were beyond reachable which was exactly why it could be quite frustrating to face them in battle.

The villain’s fingers ghosted over the hero’s collarbone and then, very sweetly, they kissed the hero. It reminded them of their first kiss. Very innocent. And it intensified the feelings they’d had for this entire evening — not only lust but also gripping love.

“You tell me when it’s too much, alright?” the villain whispered. The hero recognised guilt in the question and it squeezed their heart a little too hard.

“Of course,” they answered. They let their thumb brush over the villain’s bottom lip and then added this just to tease them. “I’m not someone who comes home injured and bleeding all over my spouse during sex.”

“Oh, come on. That was one time,” the villain said and let their hand slide down to their thigh.

“It wasn’t fun.”

“I know, I apologised.” The villain had already reached their destination with their hand and the hero was truly astonished that their spouse was doing so much today. It felt like heaven, sure, but the hero couldn’t help but ask themselves if everything was alright.

Growing up in a…troubling household had left them anxious of every micro change in their spouse’s mood which, no matter how hard both of them tried, wouldn’t go away.

“I’m just worried about you,” the hero said. “I’m really worried sometimes.”

They went through the villain’s hair several times, letting their fingers comb through it carefully as the villain’s kisses travelled lower and lower.

“It’s okay, I can take care of myself, love.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing. You don’t…” They wanted to say more but the villain had found a sensitive spot. They breathed in, breathed out and tried to concentrate. “…you don’t have to.”

The villain started to use their tongue and the hero’s mind couldn’t comprehend their surroundings anymore. But they wanted to make a point, they remembered. They pulled the villain’s face up and guided them back to their mouth.

“Sometimes…I just wish you could talk more with me. We’re a team. Maybe not at work but…at least at home.” What a cruel sentence to say but the villain seemed to understand. “You don’t have to carry around everything.”

“Yes, you’re totally right. I’m sorry, I just don’t want to be a burden,” the villain said. They tried to get back down but the hero’s grip on their jaw held them in place.

“You’re not a burden,” they clarified. “You never have been, okay?”

“Okay,” the villain whispered and for the first time today, their shoulders seemed to relax. “Okay.”

They kissed the hero yet again very softly but the hero knew this wasn’t it.

“They’re sending me on a mission next week,” the villain said softly. “Some say it’ll be suicide.”

#jeez what kind of writer do you think I am 🙄🙄🙄 #my touch is PAIN #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive #kinda? #angst #kinda?? #idk

[storiesforftm]

Hey, I saw your post about writing for Astarion and I had an idea. What if Astarion was having a nightmare and Tav/Reader started humming/singing to him to calm him down

This request is so cute! I love implementing music in my writing, so thank you for this request!

Warnings: Fluff, Reader is referred to as “Y/N”, however, you can read it as your characters name instead if you’d like! | reader is also referred to as “man.”

Down By The River

Astarion x Masc!Reader

Today had been a hard day. We retired early for some well needed, and deserved, food and rest. As the moon rose over the horizon, I found it more difficult to fall asleep. I couldn’t get comfortable on my cot. Going through the things I’ve found from previous adventures, I found a book. I decided I’d read myself to sleep.

Under the dim light of an almost extinguished campfire, I read my book while everyone else slept. Things were pretty quiet, but then I heard a whimper, almost like a cry. I set my book down quietly so I could examine the sound with more care. Then, it happened again!

I started sneaking towards the direction of the sound, thinking an intruder or some thieves might be on our camp. As I turned to look, I saw Astarion. His face was away from mine, but I heard the noise again. It was him. I sat down beside his cot, gently and quietly. His eyebrows furrowed and his teeth were showing.

I decided to place a gentle hand on his head, and stroke his hair, hoping to get him to sleep more soundly. As I did so, he did calm more down, but not completely. I remembered a tune I heard earlier that day. It was soothing and beautiful. Quietly, I began to hum the song, and quickly, Astarion became more at ease. His eyebrows unfurrowed, and he was no longer gritting his teeth.

Instead, he fell into a deep and wonderful sleep, and as I sat there watching him, I couldn’t help but feel compassion for Astarion. I decided to get back up quietly, and continue reading my book that I had left near the campfire, which had went out, and I went back to my cot.

In the morning, Astarion rose from his tent, and came over to talk to me.

“Y/N,” Astarion began. I put my book down, and looked at his piercing red eyes.

“Yes, Astarion?”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “For last night. For singing to me.”

“Oh, you knew about that?” My cheeks flushed, which made Astarion let out a giggle.

“Well, yes,” he giggled, “you see, I was in a bad trance, some would call it a nightmare, but your singing got me out of it. It was as if I could follow your voice, Y/N.” Astarion grabbed my hand and shook it with gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said once more.

“Hey, don’t mention it! I try to help everyone I can, even if I have to save them from their nightmares.”

“Yes, well, we better get going. Not sure what kind of trouble is stirring in town. Perhaps, you can sing to me again tonight!”

I blush again, and giggle.

“I’ve never been the performance type, but sure. I’ll give it a shot,” I said happily.

“Great! I’ll see you tonight then!”

Later that day, we finished the adventure we set out on, and came back to the campsite. Shadowheart approached me, and had a smirk on her face.

“So. Heard you liked to sing,” she began. “A man of many talents, I see.” I blushed and hung my head low again.

“Ah, im not exactly a performer. Singing sometimes, sure, but nothing more than that,” I said as I unloaded my findings of the day.

“Well, you should join us by the fire when you’re done. We’ll have a seat for you.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” I said, assuring Shadowheart that I’d be at the campfire soon.

Once I was finished putting things away and getting changed, I grabbed an old instrument I brought along and pondered if I should take it with me. I walked out of the tent, and sat down near the fire, and started tuning the little guitar that was gifted to me. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I tuned the guitar, and pretty soon, it sounded as it should.

I started plucking a tune, the same one I sang, the other night. While everyone stared at, me, I kept my eyes closed, and began the first verse.

“Lace your heart with mine

Let your sleeping soul take flight

Take me through the night

Down, down, down by the river

Down, down, down by the river”

As I sang the song, everyone listened. It felt angelic and euphoric to have everyone’s attention. Who knew singing to a sleeping vampire could’ve landed me doing this right now? Singing down by the river.

—

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I really enjoy some good fluff ☺️ Also, my first Astarion story! Hurray! If you requested a story, give me a bit of time to get to it 🙏 I am a stay at home parent raising an almost 3 year old, so stories usually come out in the morning or late at night (EST). Thank you in advance, and thank you for this request!!! Have a wonderful day!!

#x male! reader #x ftm reader #x masc reader #astarion x male tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x male reader #astarion x tav #astarion x ftm reader #astarion #bg3 imagine #bg3 #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #baulders gate imagines

[jasmines-library]

Poisoned heart

WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: Prompt: poisoned.

Fandom: The Hobbit

Summary: after being struck but a poisoned arrow from the Morgul bow, you suffer a fatal injury. Will you get help in time?

Warnings: Blood, Poisoned arrow, poison, sickness, pain.

Word count: 2.9K

Note: this follows the story line of Kili being shot in DoS. This can be read as platonic or romantic and can be seen as Kili x reader or Tauriel x reader, I’ve left it purposely ambiguous for you to decide.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

“No! No!”

There was an uproar when the gates slammed shut, sending the barrels hurtling into the metal, bobbing up and down in the cold, white water. You could hear the rattling of Thorin’s hands gripping the gate and shaking it so hard that his knuckles turned white. The guard drew his sword, readying it before him only to collapse seconds later: plunging over the lip of the bridge and into the water propelled forwards by an arrow which the roaring orc had lodged deep within his back. He landed with a large splash, displacing the water around him.

“Look out!”

You watched in horror as more orcs began propelling themselves over the wall on the other side of the bridge, helpless as your little barrel bobbed along in the river. They barged through, slicing at the armoured guards. Roaring as they attacked, sending a myriad of bodies into the barrels below. Some orcs, some not.

One orc had managed to grasp onto the barrels, after launching itself into the water, leaping on top of Fili, who’s eyes widened in fear. Bilbo heaved himself up, gripping tight onto the barrel before plunging the glowing blue blade into the orc’s chest. It collapsed back into the water.

You watched, shell shocked as your friends fought the creatures ahead of you. Your barrel had just thudded into Kili’s before you. You had been one of the last ones to jump in, trailing at the back of the group. From here, unsheltered by the bridge like the rest of the huddle of dwarves, you could see the rest of the fight unfurl. You could see the orcs catapulting themselves over the walls. You could see that there would be no escape unless you got that door back open.

Honing in on the wooden lever, you clambered out of the barrel. Jumping across the others until your feet landed on the stone steps.

“Y/N?!” Kili called after you, but your response was cut short by another orc which swung at you. You delivered a firm kick to set it off balance before stabbing and twisting with your shortsword.

You hadn’t realised how many there were until you had begun to push your way up the steps. There were orcs flooding in from every direction; billowing down the hills and taking out the elves, flailing in the water, surrounding you.

You were already battling one orc, using your sword to block its attack, when another leaped at you from behind, its teeth bared and weapon lethal. Fili, who had been alerted to your stunt by his brother, flung his weapon at the orc just as you swung, decapitating the one in front of you. They both collapsed to the floor with an ugly ‘thud’.

The lever was just in front of you now. Just a few feet more and then you would be free. You rushed forwards, ducking as another orc soared onto the wall above you, but fueled by adrenaline, you took him down with one well placed jab.

The lever was steps away now, within an arm's reach. You could see the delicate lines etched within the wood. What you didn’t see however, was the scar faced orc chieftain, who had notched and released an arrow from his shiny bow. It lodged itself in your thigh, just short of your knee.

Stopping abruptly, you gasped against the sudden pain, your knee buckling beneath you.

“Y/N?!” Fili cried hoarsely, as his eyes flew open in terror.

Grunting, you leaned forwards, gripping onto the wooden lever and trying to force it down, but your fingers were clammy and your vision swam with pain. You collapsed to the ground, writhing as you clutched the wound - the arrow still embedded in your leg. Time seemed to slow as you lay there, helpless once again to the orcs that had begun to file over the stone wall once again. You forced yourself up on your shaky arms, trying to scoot yourself away from the danger. Then, there was a loud ‘thwip’ as another arrow sailed through the air. You flinched, preparing yourself for a blow that was never to come. This arrow settled itself between the shoulder blade of your offending orc.

Turning your head, your gaze settled on Tauriel emerging from the woods, weapon poised, auburn hair billowing around her. She danced forwards, notching and drawing, taking out the orcs quickly and with what seemed much ease. Other elves emerged too, drawing the orcs away from you and the gate.

Using this to your advantage, you heaved yourself back up. Jumping you wrapped your arms and legs around the heavy lever. At first, nothing happened, then it shifted and you could hear the rattling of the chains as they peeled the gates open slowly, releasing the crowd of dwarf-filled wine barrels then sending them over the edge of the waterfall. Your grip slipped again and you landed flat on your back, crying out in discomfort as the arrow shifted. Black dots danced in your eyeline.

You rolled onto your side, watching as the barrels were swept away, funnelling through the gap.

“Y/N?” Kili called out to you, watching you anxiously from below. His stomach knotted when he spotted the arrow.

Heaving your legs over the side of the wall and fighting through the wave of nausea, you gave yourself one final push. Your body plunged off of the bridge, landing in your empty barrel. You didn’t manage to contain your scream as the end of the arrow caught on the rim of the barrel, ripping upwards before snapping in half. All eyes snapped towards you, including Tauriel whom you had never seen look more concerned. You slumped against the barrel, your vision doubling and wound throbbing.

Another weak cry slipped from your lips as you were tossed about in the barrel as it went hurtling over the edge. The cold water spilled into the barrel as it twisted and turned inside the rapids. You were amazed it had managed to keep afloat. Your hand kept a futile grip on the rim as you whimpered each time your body shifted, sending agony throughout your body. Ahead of you, despite the motion of the water, Thorin stood, craning his head to try and see you within the carnage. Orcs chased after you, scrambling along trees and along the river banks. Some toppled into the water, shot down by the elves.

~

It seemed like an eternity before the rapids smoothed out and the little barrels were left bobbing along with the current. Thorin was using a mossy stick which he had acquired along the way to propel himself forwards. Most of the other dwarves had resorted to using their hands to wade along.

At some point, Bilbo had attached himself to your barrel. You weren’t sure when, your head was too hazy and everything had passed by in a blur, but you suspected it was when he saw you struggling to lean forwards in your little wooden raft. You were unsure how he was seemingly uninjured, despite the perilous rapids, but he tugged you along none the less. Somewhere around you Kili and Fili lingered. You had heard the brunette call out to you a few times, paling at your slumped head.

“Anything behind us?” Thorin called out to those bringing up the rear.

“Not that I can see.” Someone called back.

Thorin Oakensheild nodded, paddling towards a large rock. “Make for the shore.”

“Aye.”

There was another raucous as the rest of the group manoeuvred their makeshift boats towards the rock. They hauled each other up and out of the rafts then helped them onto the safety of the shore. You forced yourself out of the barrel, sliding into the water. It flooded into your wound. You hissed in pain, before rising to your feet then making your way as steadily as you could onto the shore.

You didn’t make it far before the stabbing agony was back, tenfold and shooting down your leg. With a grunt, you dropped to your knees, clutching the wound. You inhaled sharply, swallowing thickly the bile that had risen in your throat. There were hands on you in seconds as the two brothers dropped to your side.

“Y/N?” Kili looked at you, panicked. Fili’s hands did what his brother's mind was thinking, but his body wouldn’t allow him to do; press down firmly on the wound.

You cried out again at the pressure and the digging in of the piece of arrow that was still in your thigh. It sent another wave of nausea through you. Your mind screamed at you that something wasn’t right.

“Im fine.” You brushed him off, trying to push his hands away but to no avail, they were stuck down firmly, quickly being coaxed in your blood. “It’s nothing.”

“Kid,” Fili reprimanded, “This isn’t nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated again through gritted teeth.

Kili was frozen, watching the way your face twitched every time your leg lit up with pain.

“We need to get the rest of the arrow out.”

You nodded. Squeezing Kilis hand, which had found it’s way into yours tightly. His brother dug his fingers into your leg to fish out the shards of the arrow. You gritted out a muffled cry, barely able to contain the vocalisation of your pain. Once it was free, you sagged against the dark haired man. You felt sick. You felt your stomach churn in pain, you felt the bile rise again in the back of your throat as you heaved rapidly. Something wasn't right.

“On your feet.” Thorin barked, scanning the area. He hesitated at his nephew's reply.

“Y/N is wounded. Her leg needs binding.” Fili stated.

Kili tore away part of his damp shirt, handing it to his brother who made quick work of beginning to bandage your gaping wound.

“There’s an orc pack on our tail. We need to keep moving.”

“To where?” Balin furrowed his wispy brow.

“To the mountain.” Bilbo implored. “We’re so close.”

“A lake stands between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it.”

Bilbo thought for a moment. “So we’ll go around it.”

That was when the figure appeared.

~~~

You had gotten worse, feverish. Your legs barely functioned as you leaned up heavily against Kili. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, helping to keep you upright as they moved swiftly through-out lake town after being smuggled in by Bard.

As time moved forwards, the company had begun to notice that this was no ordinary arrow. That this was not an infection. No, your body was too hot, your skin shades too pale and devoid of all of the life it usually held. Other than favouring your left side, you were hunched awkwardly as though you had forgotten to stand. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your forehead as you head lulled against the man who was half carrying you through the streets with his brother. You were bleary eyes and too much pain. Something wasn’t right.

Despite being feverishly warm, your body wracked itself with violent shivers. You had dried your hardest to hold in your yells of discomfort, but then your legs gave way completely and you crumpled with a howl of agony and a whimper, causing the two dwarves to stumble in their tracks.

“Y/N?”

You were laid down on the ground as soon as they had found somewhere safe to do so. You didn’t respond, only whined as your whole body was consumed with raw pain. There was a pat on your cheek as your head lolled on the damp ground. Kili cursed under his breath, unwrapped the blood soaked scraps and peeled back the fabric of your trousers. His sharp intake of breath was nearly on par with your ragged wheezes.

The wound was still bleeding freely, although it had slowed slightly due to being bound. That wasn’t what had shocked the man though. What had were the dark, angry tendrils that seeped across your skin from the wound.

“Oh my…Y/N?” Kili cradled your head in his hands.

You could only bring yourself to choke up one pain wrapped word. “Hurts-“

“She’s been poisoned.” His brother muttered. He tore off a part of his shirt to rewrap the wound with.

“Please… make it stop.”

~

Tauriel had come rushing into the village, blonde counterpart in tow. After capturing and interrogating an orc, she had rushed to find you. She couldn’t let you slip away. The elven woman would never have forgotten the way she felt her heart constrict at the mention that you had been shot with a Morgul arrow. The poison was fatal as it worked its way mercilessly through your body, shutting it down. At first, she refused to believe it, but the elf had seen it with her own eyes. She had heard the way you cried out, seen the way you scrunched up your face in agony. She couldn’t let that be her last memory of you. She wanted to remember the way you smiled with your eyes, or the soft lilt of your voice. So, she had raced to find you.

It wasn’t hard to follow your tracks. She had found the barrels at the bottom of the waterfall then seen the blood that laced the rocks. Her chest constricted as she pushed on. Dwarves were not light-footed people, so it was easy to distinguish the way the company had travelled. She noted the closeness of three sets which later dwindled into two and a pair of drag marks. Her issue began when the footsteps entered the town.

Though it didn’t take her long to find you within the village. She would be able to pick your voice out from within any crowd. Though this time she grimaced. It was your cries of agony that she could hear. You were buried within the house furthest from the village. She didn’t take any courtesies when she flung the door open, only to be greeted with the pointy end of a silver sword. Of course you were not alone. Whilst the majority of the group had headed off into the mountains, you had been left sidelined. A few other dwarves along with Kili and Fili had remained by your side; the latter of whom was directing his weapon towards the elf.

When she took a step back, and raised her bag filled with an assortment of herbs. “Please… I’m here to help.”

With a sharp nod, he removed the blade and let the woman into the room. Here, your cries were louder, despite how much you tried to hold them in. The Morgul poison was taking control of your body, drowning you in a pain clad state. The dwarves moved simultaneously to place you on the table. You writhed in their grip, clutching your chest.

Tauriel rummaged around in her bag, pulling out handfuls of herbs and mixing them together.

“Hold her down.” She said, as she moved towards you with a bowlful of herbs.

The four dwarves had to use a surprising amount of force to try and keep your legs still as you twisted and contorted in pain, crying out fatefully.

Kili, who was near your head, had to clench his jaw when he made eye contact with the elf. She had stilled at the sight of your wound, angry and festering.

You were consumed by a blinding pain when the brunette began to chant, pressing and rubbing the herbs into your wound. Your back arched as your stiffened, screaming.

Then suddenly it all stopped, as your body began to go numb. Your blood curdling screams morphed to soft whimpers. Fili glanced anxiously at his brother. Time seemed to slow again as you watched the woman work, tender but with haste. Then, Kili, still clutching your chest, watched as your breathing slowed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

~~

You weren’t even aware you had passed out until your eyes fluttered back open. Someone was fastening another bandage around your leg, and another was holding your hand softly. The remaining dwarves eyed cautiously from around the room. You squinted.

“Tauriel?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Lie still.” She told you.

“You cannot be her…” you muttered in a pained daze, gazing up blankly at the ceiling. “She is far away. She- she walks in starlight in another world. You’re just a dream…”

Your head rolled to the side, gazing upon Kili, who rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your palm. He remembered the day the two of you first met her. She had saved his life. He had watched the way the two of you instantly clicked and the way that life had kept you apart.

Your fingers reached out, unexpectedly brushing hers. She took it and squeezed it gently. A smile made its way onto your face and you sighed contently happy two have your two favourite people by your side.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

#whumptober #whumptober2023 #whumptober23 #no.7 #poisoned #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #Lotr #lotr x Reader #kili x reader #Tauriel x reader #the hobbit x injured reader #lotr x injured reader #blood #gore #poison #near death #wound

[all-things-ghostly]

The Beast of the Blood Moon

Werebat! Alistair Crump x GN Reader

Warning! This fic probably isn’t going to be for everyone! Aside from the end, it’s a little dark - CW for somewhat graphic transformation (starts with the first ~~~ below the cut and ends at the second), Alistair having a bad time, animal death and consumption, blood, small reader injury.

~~~

Okay I was originally not gonna post this and just keep it to myself because I thought it was too niche but then I remembered what kinda people Alistair fans are and went through with it anyway LMAO

I apologize if it drags on or feels like a mouthful. I had used this as an opportunity to practice description-heavy fics instead of relying on dialogue so I don’t have as much experience with this. Please be nice to me lmao I’ve been kinda beating myself up during the writing process-

With Alistair’s death came an array of changes. In many ways, he hardly resembled the person he was when he was alive. His form had gone from decently built to thin and skeletal, grey skin pulled tightly over it without much muscle mass left. It was difficult for him to move how he used to, especially without the support of his cane, which is why he was almost always floating and rarely walking. The structure of his face was completely different - everything was all sunken, uncanny, and corpse-like. There was so much he could point out that he didn’t like about his new body, but we’d be here for too long.

Needless to say, he looked like a monster. He felt like a monster.

And after a while, he actually started to become one.

Alistair thought that death would be the end of it all, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. Throughout his first few years of ghosthood, Alistair only continued changing. The first thing he noticed was his teeth - they had initially begun to straighten themselves out a bit, which made Alistair happy, but that was only so that they could get bigger. Much bigger. And sharper. This had especially impacted his canines, which had grown long and pointed, so much that they barely even fit in his mouth anymore.

Then came the rapid claw growth. Whenever Alistair cut his nails, he would wake up the next morning to find them the exact same length they were before. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. Eventually, he just gave up and let them do their own thing, at which point they stopped growing at a certain length and instead became reinforced into strong, durable, sharp claws. To be honest, Alistair quite liked them. It was one of the few new changes he actually didn’t mind that much.

The worst thing, however, were the blood moons.

Full moons nourished Alistair. They gave him strength and power beyond imagination. Lunar eclipses, on the other hand, slowly became his downfall. The first one he experienced after his death made him feel nauseous with a slight toothache, and that was about the worst of it. But with each consecutive blood moon, the symptoms got worse. He got brain fog. White fur started growing on his chest and limbs. His cloak would painfully fuse to his back. Luckily it all went away in the morning, but the experiences left Alistair dreading the next blood moon.

The 13th eclipse was the peak of it all.

That was the night the spirit truly lost himself. The night he transformed into something far more horrific than he could have ever imagined. It absolutely terrified Alistair to have no control over his body like that.

Every time he transformed into that… thing, Alistair only started hating himself more. For years and years he tried to deal with it, but nothing could ever tame the beast within him.

Then, a century later… a new mortal moved in.

~~~ You glance outside the window and check on the position of the moon. It’s almost midnight, when the effect will fully set in. Behind you Alistair clutches his heart and leans against the wall. He looks to be in pain.

Alistair has never told you exactly what happens to him on lunar eclipses. He’s mentioned it to you before, especially in recent times as the eclipse drew closer, but he would always hide the exact details. It’s something he’s always been self conscious about and refuses to elaborate on. All you know is that whatever happens to the ghost is supposedly very dangerous, for you and for others.

You’re lost in quiet contemplation as you stare out the window, feeling sorrow for poor Alistair, when suddenly a loud crash and thud behind you tears you away from your thoughts. Turning around frightfully, you notice that Alistair has collapsed and is leaning propped up against the wall. His hat is crooked and he’s panting heavily like he’s in severe distress. You rush away from the window, getting down on the floor so you can be eye level to him.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. The texture of his cloak beneath your hand catches your attention. Looking at it, you notice that it’s begun to change shape and feels more… organic than usual.

“Y/n, please, I told you that you need to leave,” Alistair pleads with you between grunts of pain. “I won’t be myself. I won’t remember who you are. There’s no way for me to guarantee that you will be safe, that I won’t hurt you. You cannot stay here, please.”

In a sudden and startling turn of events, Alistair cries out, gripping his head with his claws. Something is happening to him that makes you immediately pull your hand away from his shoulder and scurry back…

His cloak…

It’s starting to move on its own.

The way it moves reminds you of something from a horror movie, like bones snapping into impossible, grotesque positions. Accompanying the rigid movements of the cape is a sickening cracking noise that makes your stomach turn. Throughout it all, Alistair starts to scream, as the fabric is quite literally welding itself into his body and becoming a part of him.

“I said leave, Y/n!” He shouts once more, falling onto his hands and knees. Alistair’s form trembles violently, and with yet another cry, what was once his cape fully transforms into a massive set of bat wings with an impressive wingspan. The wings spread out wide in an intimidating spectacle while Alistair continues to struggle.

Hurried footsteps pound down the eastern hallway, and in comes one of the mansion’s ghostly servants, attracted by the noise. She takes a second to assess the situation and notices Alistair convulsing on the floor. Her face falls. Then she notices you.

“Oh! Er— come here, dear,” she urges, nervously scurrying over to you and gently grabbing your wrist. Her eyes are filled with deep fear and concern. “Let’s go. I know a safe place you can hide for the night.”

She tries guiding you away, but you resist. All you care about right now is Alistair. The poor man appears to be suffering immensely at the hands of his transformation. Right now, he’s currently attempting to push himself up off the ground, but he’s too weak and just falls over again with a little whine.

“Alistair…” you mumble.

Sensing your sympathy, the servant’s eyes soften into a gentle expression. “I know you’re worried about him, but he will be alright in the morning. Now come on, right this way, right this way…”

She starts to softly pull on your arm, leaving you no choice but to follow her and leave Alistair behind. The last thing you see is him keeling over before you get dragged out of the room and brought into one of the guest rooms down the hall.

Now, Alistair is left all alone in the foyer of the mansion. Aside from his wails, the house is completely silent, since all of the other inhabitants have hidden away for the night. There was no one to help him as he went through the next stage of the awful transformation. Unfortunately for him, the wings were only the beginning. He barely even got a minute of relief before he felt that dreadfully familiar burning sensation deep inside of his body.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Bones began to break and expand at unnatural rates in order for his form to change. His spine grew longer and more jagged, making his frame tall and imposing. The bones in his legs snapped and reformed to become digitigrade like that of a wild beast. Additionally, Alistair’s arms and bony hands became larger in order to support a nasty set of vicious claws that could effortlessly tear into prey. Even his very skull began to warp and change into something more animalistic. It was awful. Alistair’s throat was starting to hurt from all the yelling and after a while the only sounds he could make were strained, guttural cries.

Not to mention the way his flesh had to grow to match his new skeletal structure. Though he maintained his lean shape, his arms and legs became more muscular, as well as his back muscles that helped propel those massive wings of his. Alistair could hardly describe what it felt like, but the way that his cells had to rapidly mutate beyond human capability was insufferable. Mostly, it felt like a hellish burning. But there was also a strange, stinging-aching feeling associated with his insides stretching out and body changing shape. For the last step in the body mutation, a pair of large bat ears sprouted from his head, and he gained the last few kinds of animalistic features he needed: paw pads on the bottoms of his feet, a proper bat muzzle, and even larger fangs, to name a few.

Finally, it was over. The hard part, anyway. His fur still needed to grow in but that was painless.

Alistair, completely exhausted, laid curled up on his side, trembling and whimpering pitifully. He struggled to catch his breath after everything that just happened and panted like a wounded animal. Scattered all around him were the remnants of his clothes that had burst at the seams during his transformation. Suddenly he was glad everybody left the room, otherwise they’d have… quite the view.

While he rested, his beautiful fur coat started to grow out, starting at his limbs and torso and continuing to spread from there. The fur was longest on his chest and crotch area (which worked in his favor, considering he had no clothes on that would otherwise cover things up) and it was surprisingly soft. It was almost funny how soft he was considering how the rest of him just seemed so monstrous.

For the first couple of minutes, Alistair did nothing but lay still and breathe. He was still very spent and needed a minute to adjust to his new form as a werebat. But it wouldn’t last for long. Because he knew that very shortly, the hunger would set in. Hunger so insatiable that he would do anything to feel warm blood and flesh beneath his fangs.

Just at that moment, his bat nose twitched when he caught the scent of something far in the distance. He sniffed the air a few times to get a better feel for it… some sort of large prey in the woods behind the mansion. His maw started foaming immediately, he just couldn’t help it… whatever was out there should surely be enough to sustain him for the night.

Alistair, with newfound vigor, starts to push himself up off the ground. At first, he feels very unsteady since he’s not adjusted to his body yet, but animal instinct quickly takes over and he rises to his feet. Standing at just over 7 feet tall, Alistair’s werebat form is an absolute menace. His animalistic mind has now been completely consumed by bloodthirstiness and the idea of his next meal. Assuming an aggressive position, Alistair puffs his chest out, spreads his wings, and flares his claws, just before releasing a screeching cry so shrill that it echoes throughout every hall of the mansion, shaking the very foundation it rests upon.

Immediately after he calls out, Alistair rears his head and charges at the mansion’s front door. It shatters effortlessly against his mighty form, and with that the giant bat escapes the mansion unharmed, flying into the night in search of his prey.

~~~

“Come on, come on…”

The beam of light coming from your flashlight sputters and flickers from what you assume is low battery, or perhaps old age. You give it a good few hard smacks. Now is hardly the time for it to malfunction.

The spirits of the mansion had kept you sequestered away in one of the guest rooms for about an hour, trying to defend you from Alistair. And, while you appreciated their concern, you were worried about him. From the room you were in you could hear his pained, miserable screams.

Which meant that you also heard the sound of him destroying the front door and fleeing.

Since all of the other spirits were hiding away in their own separate places, it was rather easy for you to sneak out unnoticed. All you took with you was a flashlight and a small dagger, just in case. Not that you could ever use it on Alistair. It just made you feel a little safer wandering into a dark, wooded area knowing that you had a weapon with you.

The flashlight beam finally stabled itself out after the last hit. You point it out into the tangled woods behind the mansion and try to find any evidence of Alistair. Considering he flew, it’s not like you could go off of animal tracks or anything, so it was proving to be a little difficult. But you were determined to find him.

Finally, you start to take some hesitant steps into the forest. The trees had grown long and twisted, some of them even being over a century old, which blocked out the moonlight and made it even more difficult to see. All you really had going for you lighting-wise was some crappy flashlight that was likely crusted over with battery acid. The forest also had that typical Louisiana humidity to it, even at night. You had to shoo off more mosquitos than you would have liked.

You walk for quite a bit of time, shining your flashlight over the ground and trees, before you find anything. The first sign you noticed were deer tracks on the dark soil. Not necessary anything related to bats, but you instinctively feel like you should follow them anyways. They seem to go on for a far, far distance, all in one direction, as if the creature was running from something…

Suddenly, you start to feel a bit paranoid.

You even began having second thoughts about turning back. Still, though, all you could think about was Alistair. He was somewhere all alone out here, stuck in a monstrous body he couldn’t control. Something could happen to him; what if he got shot?

You have to pull through, for him. So against everything telling you not to, you keep trekking through the woods.

At one point in the trail, there was a moment where the tracks suddenly stopped. Instead, there was a spot where dirt, leaves, and soil seemed to be scattered and kicked around, forming a large messy crater in the ground. Usually, you would’ve thought nothing of it, but for some reason it felt deeply off-putting.

After staring at it for a moment, you hesitantly decide to keep walking forwards. But it doesn’t get any better. Now, there is a large, long streak in the ground, as if something had been dragged through the dirt. You shine your flashlight over it, and notice something even worse splattered through the foliage…

Blood.

The sound of shifting leaves in front of you makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t dare look up.

The beam of your flashlight starts to waver from the way your hands begin to shake. More odd noises come from just a few yards away… snarfing, growling, noisy chewing. You already know what it is but you don’t want to look, you don’t want to look, you can’t look at it don’t look at it don’t look it at it—

Your flashlight sputters. Then flickers.

Then dies.

Oh, of course.

The flashing light seems to attract the attention of the beast in front of you. Without your only light source, it’s so dark that you can barely make out the silhouettes… and a pair of glowing yellow eyes bearing right into you.

Very, very slowly, you try to step away. The creature continues to stare unblinkingly at you as you move, keeping a large, clawed paw on the half-eaten deer carcass in front of it. Even as it lowers its head back down to take another huge bite, its eyes never leave you. You don’t know what to do. You can’t move.

You stand there very still for the next good few minutes. In that time the beast has managed to reduce the cervidae to nothing but a pile of bones. When it finishes eating and licks its maw, you hope that it will lose interest in you and walk away. But of course not. Instead, it stands up to its full height and starts creeping right over to you, the slits of its pupils so slim that you can hardly even see them.

For a moment, it steps into the moonlight, allowing you to see it clearly.

It’s Alistair, alright.

Looks like you found him after all.

Even as a werebat, something about its appearance makes you immediately recognize it to be him. Perhaps it’s the somewhat messy white fur that covers his body, fading into a grey color in a gradient manner towards his forearms and shins. Or it could be those giant dark grey wings that remind you so much of his cloak. His face, ears, hands and feet were a slightly lighter shade of grey than the wings, reminding you of his usual sickly skin tone… but most importantly, it might be those eyes of his. Those soul-piercing yellow eyes that could make the blood of even the bravest being run cold. You would recognize them anywhere.

You do your best to stay still as he approaches you. It might sound stupid, but you feel like running would only trigger him more. Alistair comes up to you, his massive figure towering over your shaking body, and you feel like this could be the end.

He leans down and gets so close to you that you can see the individual blood stains on his fur. But surprisingly, he doesn’t attack right away. Instead, his snout buries into your hair, and then your neck, sniffing around… he seems curious about you. Eventually he pulls back and grabs your wrist.

“Um, okay,” you stammer, scared absolutely shitless but following him as he drags you off to a small cave just nearby. It looks to almost be like… his den? The inside is decorated with various bones and skulls, as well as beautiful vines along the walls and some baskets full of fruit or other little snacks. Alistair pulls you over to a large pile of animal pelts towards the back of the cave and sets you down gently. Perhaps it’s his nest?

You’re feeling very confused. Especially when he plops down next to you and starts sniffing at your neck again and clothes again. Alistair’s face scrunches in confusion, as if he’s trying to place something, when suddenly he pauses and looks right into your eyes, his slit pupils dilating into a more gentle expression of recognition.

He remembers you.

It’s like a switch is flipped. Alistair’s large, strong arms pick you up and place you right into his lap, where he continues to examine you. Even if his brain is too fogged over to remember what you look like, he seems to recognize you by your scent alone. Which is honestly just really adorable.

He then carefully lifts you up so that you’re eye level and starts to rub his soft head along your face and neck. It reminds you of a cat rubbing itself along your legs to mark its scent on you, which is essentially the same thing he’s doing. It’s fascinating to see how differently he shows his affection in a more animalistic form - he may have a more feral, primitive mind now, but he still has his ways of showing that he loves you. After he deems you sufficiently marked, Alistair buries his soft little muzzle into the crook of your neck again…

…and then bites.

No, not like a cute little nibble or anything. He sinks his fangs right in and breaks the skin, just at the spot between your neck and shoulder. Considering how he showed no signs of hostility beforehand, you’re completely taken by surprise. In fact, you don’t even register the pain at first because you’re so shocked.

He holds his fangs there for about 10 seconds and then slowly lets go. Left just next to your shoulder is a massive, bleeding bite from his fangs. Your eyes are still widened in complete shock, but Alistair seems unphased. He was just acting on natural instinct.

See, the bite wasn’t meant to hurt you. He had actually carefully adjusted the force of it to where it would break the skin and engrave deeply but not cause any permanent damage to the nerves or flesh. Instead, he made it just deep enough to create a permanent scar on a visible area of your body. He was giving you a mating bite - a mark on you that would show everyone, both human and beast, that you were his.

Alistair’s long tongue gently laps at the wound to clean it. His saliva seems to be numbing it for you, lessening some of the stinging pain left behind (and, as a bonus, he gets a little snack out of the blood). The werebat seems to know that his fangs hurt and is now acting very tenderly towards you to make up for it. His tongue works diligently until the bite mark naturally clots and is ready to be properly treated later.

Once he’s finished, Alistair makes a low growling noise and leans back onto his nest with you on top of him. His large arms wrap tightly around your body and hold you so close that your face gets smothered in his long chest fur. Breathing him in, you notice that he has somewhat of a woodsy musk smell to him. It’s honestly quite pleasant. He starts to purr, a deep, rumbling purr that you can feel the vibrations of as you rest on top of his fluffy underbelly.

“Oh, well… I guess you’re actually a little bit cute,” you mumble at him, freeing an arm so you can scratch him underneath his ear. Alistair’s purring gets louder, and his eyes start to close in pure contentment. It’s… really, really adorable. Normally, Alistair would get pissed off if you tried babying him like this. But right now? Just like any other creature, he could never deny some good scritches.

The cute little (or rather, not so little) monster nudges up against you like he wants more. Who are you to deny him? You take both hands and start rubbing his soft face, even giving him a little kiss on the nose, which makes his big bat ears twitch. Now, under your touch, he’s no more intimidating than a lap dog.

Alistair especially loves it when you start to pet and scratch his fluffy belly. His purrs become so loud and deep that it reminds you of a dinosaur. His large bat body stretches out to expose himself as best as he can to you for more rubs, his leg kicking joyously when he receives them. He just feels so… relaxed.

He wasn’t used to that. Feeling relaxed. Not only in werebat form, but as regular old Alistair Crump, too. Normally he was much too shut in and reserved to let someone get close to him, nevertheless touch him. And as a werebat, Alistair was constantly under the stress of trying to control his violence and rampages. He has never once been able to just settle down and let someone pet him like this.

Perhaps that just means that you’re someone he feels safe around.

After a while, you notice him starting to yawn. The large bat looks very sleepy, having been relaxed by your gentle, comforting touch. Alistair makes another little purring sound and pulls you close once more. His warm tongue starts to sweetly lick at your lips, almost like he’s giving you his own little version of kisses to thank you for all of the affection you gave him.

Finally, he settles down and wraps his arms and wings against you, cuddling you as if you were his own little stuffed animal. You notice that as he drifts off to sleep, his eyes are gentle and dilated. It’s a sign of how calm he is. The calmest and tamest the beast has ever been.

Maybe, all this time, he only needed a gentle and understanding mate.

And who better to fit the part than you?

#alistair crump #hatbox ghost #haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #my writing #alistair crump x reader #werebat #monster x human #monster x reader #the haunted mansion #hatbox ghost x reader

[satelliteddie]

like uncle, like nephew

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie is terrified to introduce you to his uncle, not because of you—but because so much rides on it. however, little does eddie know that you and uncle wayne have a few tricks up your sleeves.

content warnings: cursing, suggestive language, kissing, eddie crying, pet names

word count: 2.9k

author’s notes: this quite possibly is the cutest request I’ve ever gotten, I’m melting

photo credit: @fefemunson​

Eddie was petrified. He ran his fingers through his hair so many times the curls started to become less defined and give him, what you affectionately called a “mane”. It was irrational really. He knew Uncle Wayne would love you, and you would love him; but he couldn’t stop himself from picturing every possible outcome of the night. He was on his way to pick you up, driving as slow as he could without getting pulled over; Eddie thought maybe if he was late you would want to cancel and forget about the whole thing. He should have known better because he knows you. You were over the moon when Eddie suggested you finally meet his Uncle Wayne. You wanted to meet the person who saved and raised Eddie to be the boy you were in love with. There were countless nights where you just missed Wayne as he left for his shift at the plant, or you left in the morning right before he got home. It was a synchronized routine that Eddie had down to a science. You and Wayne were like ships in the night and that’s how Eddie wanted it to be – or at least that’s what made him comfortable. However, everything that once made him uncomfortable he was now comfortable doing with you. Because of you. He took you out on public dates in Hawkins, drove around singing cheesy love songs, let you hold his sweetheart guitar, and gradually allowed you to see who he was – aside from the persona he projected while in school. 

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls up in front of your house and steps out of the van just as you close the front door. You step down from the porch with ease, racing towards where Eddie is parked in the street. Your sundress blows against your thighs, the color of the material such a pretty pink it nearly matches the blush creeping onto your cheeks. You stop a few feet in front of Eddie, tilting your head at him as he leans on the passenger side of the van.

“Baby,” Eddie coos, placing an adoring hand over his heart. He kicks off the door closing the gap between you, “Look at you. Jesus. How did I get so lucky?” His hands find their place on the sides of your neck, his thumbs brushing over your jaw before bringing your mouths together. You giggle against his lips, a sound that makes Eddie’s heart swell. He can’t help but smile in the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a small love bite.

“Eddie,” you grin up at him. You climb your fingers up his chest and slide them under his denim jacket. Even though the air is warm, Eddie still wears his classic jacket and vest everywhere. “We’re gonna be late,” you slip a finger under his shirt and poke his soft skin.

“What if,” Eddie tucks his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin. “We don’t go and we stay here and I admire you in this sundress some more.”

“Eddie,” you try to say more sternly, but end up saying his name in between a laugh. His soft lips trail up and down the base of your neck, his hands getting lost in your hair. “Cmon,” you pinch the skin of his waist. “I don’t wanna make a bad impression already.” Eddie turns to you with a frown, which you try to kiss away, “we’ll have plenty of time afterwards.”

“Promise?” Eddie raises an eyebrow while you roll your eyes.

“Let’s go,” you shove him lightly back towards the van. Eddie tips his head as he opens the passenger door for you. He scurries around the hood of the van, hopping into his seat. After starting the car, Eddie immediately grabs your hand in his covering the back of it in small kisses.

“It’s gonna be okay, Eds,” you whisper. If he wasn’t driving you would have smoothed out the stress lines in his face. He drops your joined hands onto his thigh, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your hand. Eddie’s shoulders relax as he sits back a little bit more, turning to you with a quick smile.

“I know he’s going to love you, it’s just that-” Eddie starts, tapping his free hand over the steering wheel. “You’re the two most important people in my life. I- I can’t stop thinking about what could happen after today.”

“Nothings happening, Eddie. We’re just going over to your house,” you pull your clasped hands from his lap and place Eddie’s one hand inside of both of yours. You squeeze it gently, “Just us…and Wayne may happen to show up. That’s all.”

Eddie nods quickly, hoping he’s coming across believable. He doesn’t want to be so anxious about this, he shouldn’t have to be. Logically, you and Wayne both love him so you’ll love each other….right? His mind races as Eddie takes the long way back to his trailer. You don’t say anything halfway through the drive when you notice the route he’s taken. Eddie scrolls through the radio before finding a channel that is just enough to distract him. Your hands never leave your lap, playing with Eddie’s much larger hand. Rubbing the stress from his joints and twisting the rings around his fingers, Eddie flashes a content look at you. Your soft touches and gentle smiles are enough to convince him that he’s doing the right thing by introducing you to his only parental figure. Thankfully the trailer park comes into view before Eddie has time to change his mind again. He throws the van in park, puffing out his cheeks and releasing a shaky sigh.

“Eddie you have nothing to worry about,” you try to be as supportive as you can. The nerves are rolling off of Eddie in huge waves, they crash into you and make you want to feel every bit of anxiety he is. He nods before stepping out to let you out of the passenger side; even in his flustered nervous state he still remains as chivalrous as ever. You slide out of your seat, brushing out the wrinkles in the edge of your dress. Eddie stares down at his shoes pushing around a stone near his feet. You lace your fingers together, squeezing his palm to yours. The steps from the van to the front door seem like they go on forever, but once you reach the trailer time stops. Eddie freezes, looking at you with panicked eyes. His mind races faster than it ever has, but his body refuses to move. Pressing a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder, you take your free hand and knock once before Wayne calls from inside to “just come in!”, so you do. The small door opens with a creak, you pull Eddie inside like you have a thousand other times. Even though Eddie is home he feels like a stranger in the room, everything seems wrong. The irrational questions start to bounce around his brain again, replaying every which way this could go wrong.

“Maybe we should just-” Eddie starts to say, hoping to make a break for it. The words get caught in his mouth as you pull your hand away from him and step even further into the house. Eddie watches as his uncle stands from his recliner, wrapping you in a tight hug without any hesitation from either of you. Wayne smiles down at you with the brightest smile Eddie has seen in days, hell maybe even weeks.

“How’ve you been, kid?” Wayne asks in the most calm voice ever. Eddie’s convinced he’s hallucinating when you answer Wayne without any wavering or introductions. Neither his girlfriend or his uncle, who have never met, have bothered to introduce themselves… every other question Eddie once had is now replaced with: What the fuck is going on here?

You slip into the sofa next to Wayne’s recliner as he sits back down, leaving Eddie lingering by the front door. The crease in between Eddie’s eyebrows only deepens the more the conversation grows between you and his uncle. You finally turn to Eddie, patting the space next to you for him to sit. Eddie shakes his head frantically, before stepping into the small living space. He watches as you and Wayne continue to talk about work and friends, as if this was a conversation that was simply paused and started again now. The bewildered look in Eddie’s eyes never changes the longer you and Wayne talk so you decide to toss him a lifeline.

“Eddie? Come sit,” you place a hand on the sofa again. “You should tell Mr. Munson about—”

“Please, sweetie. You can call me Uncle Wayne,” his uncle raises his mug to you with a proud smile. “You’ve known me long enough.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Eddie’s confused eyes scan over the two of you.

“Eddie,” you gawk at his language, frowning at Wayne – who dismisses Eddie’s cursing with a roll of his eyes.

“No,” Eddie turns to you with a frantic voice. “What is happening? Why are you- how do you- I don’t understand what’s happening right now.” Eddie stumbles over his words, running his hands through his hair again.

“I’ve known Y/N for, what is it? Two years now?” Wayne turns to you, hiding his smirk behind his mug. Like father uncle, like son nephew.

“Yep,” you pop the ‘p’ on the word as you smile. “Mr. Mun- Uncle Wayne, has worked with my Dad for a few years. I met him before I met you.” You turn to Eddie, watching as he finally puts all the pieces together in his mind.

“To be fair I didn’t realize your Uncle Wayne and Wayne from the plant were the same guy until recently, but after you kept trying to hide Uncle Wayne and I from each other before his shift…I put two and two together.”

Eddie stays silent while you and Wayne exchange worried looks. His fists clench at his sides for a moment before he relaxes his fingers. Eddie puffs out his chest in a huff, opening his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.

“C’mon Eddie,” Wayne says, setting his mug down on the side table. “Don’t be mad at her, it was my idea.”

The questions Eddie had outside the trailer are long gone and are replaced with so many conflicting emotions. His chest feels like it’s grown twice its size since this morning, the pressure building inside him. Eddie bounds down the hallway into his room and slams the door.

You turn to Wayne with wide eyes, “I was not expecting that.”

“Me either, kid,” Wayne rocks back in his chair. “Go check on him. Blame me if you have to.” He offers a smile before picking up his coffee again.

You walk as quietly as you can down the small hallway to Eddie’s room. You don’t hear any yelling or grunts of frustration from the other side, which is a good sign. You turn the doorknob, stepping into the room slowly. Eddie sits on the far side of his bed near the windows; his elbows on his knees, face pressed to his palms.

“Eddie,” you whisper, shutting the door behind you. “Eddie, I'm so sorry I didn’t tell you. Uncle Wayne and I thought it would be good to get you back for all the times you hid us from each other. Clearly, we were wrong…it was a stupid idea.”

Eddie sniffles in response, turning to you with glossy eyes over his shoulder. You stand in the center of his room, waiting for him to look fully at you before you move closer. Eddie stands, rubbing his hand over his face before walking to stand in front of you.

Panic courses through your veins, Eddie has cried in front of you before but never out of anger. You reach out to him, “no baby, please don’t cry. Don’t be mad, I’m-”

“I’m not mad,” Eddie finally says, a small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Sweetheart, I’m so happy.”

“You are?” You ask, your voice cracking with nerves. Eddie runs his fingers into your hair, pulling you close to him. He rests his forehead against yours, the smile on his face growing by the second.

“Are you kidding?” Eddie closes his eyes, his heart pumping and mind finally calm. He inhales your scent with how close you are to him and he wants to memorize this moment. This feeling. He’s so in love with you. Eddie wishes he could keep your smell, your kind eyes, your soft skin, everything about you with him at all times. You’ve made this day one he’ll never forget, but he can’t take risks so he tries to remember every detail as best he can. Eddie kisses your forehead once before bending to meet your eye line, “I’m so fucking relieved. I got myself so worked up over what could happen tonight that I lost track of you.” Eddie’s nearly convinced he’s having a heart attack; his heart is pounding so fast. You look up at him with curious eyes and he captures your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, Eddie’s mouth moves over yours frantically. It’s like he can’t get enough of you.

You giggle against his mouth, “Eds.”

“Jesus,” Eddie smirks, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I can’t believe you two hid that from me. That was good.”

“So that wasn’t one of the 25 scenarios you had planned out for today?” You ask coyly, slipping your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans.

“No,” Eddie throws his head back in a laugh. “It was a million times better.” His brown eyes look over your face admiring the way you look up at him. Eddie slips his hand under your jaw, inching your mouth to his again. He places a kiss on your cupid’s bow, the smile on his face never fading.

“I’m glad you decided to finally introduce us,” you mutter, rubbing your fingers over the soft skin of his cheek. “I know I already knew Wayne, but it meant a lot that you would let me into that part of your life.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie tugs you to his chest. He presses kisses across your hairline; it’s like he can’t kiss enough of you today. “You are my life. I was worried when you two met, you would see too much of me and want out. I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” You lean away from his chest to shoot him a confused look, but Eddie presses on.

“Wayne has seen me through all the rough patches. The loss of my parents – in more ways than one. Repeating senior year. My nightmares that went on for years. He’s seen it all. I’m talking about the really shitty stuff. I was in my own head about the ‘what-ifs’ of today when you heard all those stories from him. It’s stupid really.”

“Hey,” you interrupt his self-deprecation with a pinch on his sides. “Nothing you feel is stupid. Ever.”

“Wayne used to tell me that,” Eddie smirks. “I should have known you and my uncle would be best friends.”

“Best friends is a stretch…”

“You’ve known him longer than me!” Eddie jokes with a roll of his eyes.

“Shush,” you giggle, nuzzling yourself closer to him. Eddie makes you feel so warm and fuzzy, you would crawl inside of him if you could. Eddie senses your need to be close and wraps his arms around the tops of your shoulders. Your hearts beat together as you press your chest to Eddie, the rhythm of them syncing together the longer you hold onto him. “Wanna go back out there?”

“Nah,” Eddie smirks, squeezing your shoulders one more time before leaning away. “We don’t have to worry about first impressions now. We’re staying here,” the smirk on his face grows more flirty.

Eddie slips a cold, ring-covered finger under the strap of your sundress. He runs his digit over your shoulder slowly, creating goosebumps in its path. “I believe someone promised me I could admire you in this sundress.”

Your mind and heart become putty in Eddie’s hands as he plays with the seams of the dress. Logically you want to argue with him, you both came over for Wayne. In the silence of the rest of the house you can hear the muffled footsteps of Eddie’s uncle. Just as you’re about to speak again, you hear the steps circle the trailer with a call from the living room: “have fun, kids. Don’t be mad at her Edward, it was my idea!” followed up by the slam of the front door.

“Edward?” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie. Even though you knew it was his full name, poking fun at him was totally going to be worth it.

Eddie shoves you away playfully muttering, “shut up.” He quickly spins you around to press your back to his chest pressing kisses up the column of your neck. Eddie acts annoyed only briefly because the fullness he feels in this chest makes every bit of the teasing worth it.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

eddie and wayne content >>>>> 

omg this request was just the sweetest I cannot handle it... we were robbed of wayne and Eddie’s relationship, but I imagine them as the father-son duo that always involves teasing, pranks, and zero judgement for their feelings... maybe I'm projecting but I don't care! I love ‘em :)

✭masterlist ✭ requests

-meg

#eddie munson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #requested

[vampsquerade]

Ooo I’ve had this idea for a while: Phillip Graves x GN!Reader where the reader is a member of Shadow Company and they’re like his bodyguard n shit and the reader save Graves from some sort of danger on a mission and they ✨fall in love✨

this is a really good idea, i hope i can do you some justice for it! thanks so much for requesting anon :,) i hope you had a lovely holidays and re raring to go into the new year soon! also heads up for spoilers right here before the post! also wow this one is kind of weird i don’t know why i went this route for it

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Graves x GN!Reader: The Snake’s Guard Dog

Trigger Warnings: angst, spoilers for the CoD:MW2 reboot, slight angst, assassination attempts, pining, slight implication of Stockholm’s Syndrome, gunshot wounds, obsessive affections

Phillip Graves; a man as deadly as he was charming. With a gruff yet alluring southern drawl to his voice, he was able to convince many that he had their best interests in mind despite him having the capacity of having any single particle of a person be completely wiped from existence. But in being his bodyguard, practically his right hand man, you’ve seen how easy it was to get under his skin and recklessly utilize that bite of. However, it wasn’t as good as yours. The best of the best always needed someone better, and that someone just so happened to be you. Despite having a rough childhood and practically making a living on the streets, you’ve seen the worst of the worst and it’s shaped the intense and deadly training you went through. Hell, you’ve even committed the worst of the worst just to be able to survive, as much as it hurt you. But those feelings meant nothing, the only feeling you ever needed was the desire to protect and ultimately survive.

You were seen as nothing but a loyal dog.

At the moment, your mission with Phillip was to secure intel on Ghorbani’s next location by entering an AQ convoy and stealing documents. With cover provided by stealth operators in your beloved PMC, Shadow Company, it was going to be quick and easy—or rather, should have been. After piecing some things together, you figured out that there were AQ snipers providing overwatch and they were silently picking off your cover. Eventually, that laser sight hits Phillip’ forehead as he’s looking down at the intel he’s got in front of him. “Sir, get down!” you exclaim as you tackle him. A shot fires through the window and right into your left shoulder, causing you to pull Phillip right over you due to the force.

Crying out as the entirety of his weight crushes your freshly injured shoulder, you let go of him so he can scramble off you. For a moment, the two of you just stare into each other’s eyes before Phillip realizes the gravity of the situation. “Shit!” he exclaims, carefully turning you on your side while prone. He checks the rest of your body to see if there was anything else wrong, and once he got to your ankle and heard you practically growl in pain, Phillip knew it was time to get the fuck out of there. Gathering what he could, he clutched it tight before looking around the room to figure something out. “Everyone, we’re going loud! Get rid of those damn snipers! I’m gonna need a few of you to come rendezvous with Executioner and I to help get us out of here!” Phillip yelled into the comms. “Sir…we can leave through the back door…I have two smoke grenades…” you say through gritted teeth. “Toss it now then cause we’re about to take more fire than that shot you just took for me!”

Nodding, you grab the grenade from your belt and pull the pin. Smoke immediately fills the room and you struggle to stand, slightly falling over upon standing on your shattered ankle. Phillip grips your safe hand tightly, helping support you this way to get the hell out of your now compromised position. You were tempted to just tell him to leave you, as you were losing a hell of a lot of blood, but you had a feeling Phillip wasn’t gonna take any of that lip and save your life. “Phillip…fuck…” you groan with a dry and gruff voice. “I know baby, I’m getting us the fuck out of here. Don’t you worry.” Phillip mumbled. For whatever reason in your painfully cold heart, a small sensation of warmth fills you when you hear yourself addressed as such a word by your superior.

Phillip said that all the time, but why was it so different this time?

Eventually, the both of you make it to safety and the area is effectively clear at the cost of some men who were now either severely injured or actually dead; yourself included. “Get them some damn help, now! I don’t need my right hand dying on me!” Phillip yelled. You were in and out of consciousness at this point, so you made a last ditch effort to grab at him and tell him something. “See me eventually…” you mumble. “You know I will. Once I get this report to Shepherd, I’ll go and see you.” Phillip’ promised. “Good…” you say. The blood loss eventually takes hold and causes a fun little side effect called “passing out”. Limbs now completely limp upon losing consciousness, you let go of your vice grip on Phillip’ arm. He gently holds your hand on his own accord for a moment before bringing it up to his lips to kiss your fingertips, knuckles, and the back of your hand. “Get well soon…”

An entire day would come and go where you’d remain unconscious, waking up in the middle of the afternoon another day later. “Mornin’ sunshine, glad to see you waking up…” you hear a familiar voice mumble. “That you sir..?” you ask hoarsely. “The one and only. How you feeling? Need anything? Medicine, water, food—just tell me and I’ll have them bring it to you right away.” Phillip said. “Got any morphine on you, sir..?” you ask, trying to sit yourself up only to remember your fucked up shoulder holding you back. Phillip is quick to carefully help you sit up however, hushing you softly upon hearing you wince. “I’ll be back with some morphine. Don’t you move a muscle darlin’.” he said. Phillip stood up and began to walk away to get a nurse, only to stop and turn around to look at you, “How bout you start callin’ me Phillip from now on? No need to call me sir so often.” he suggested. Feeling yourself get flustered again upon hearing you’re finally on a first name basis, you just give him a silent nod before turning away out of embarrassment.

Phillip smiles and leaves the room to go get you a nurse that can give you the proper dose of morphine you need, and you just sit there by yourself and begin contemplating why you’re feeling such a strange emotion. Every time Phillip spoke to you, it’s like your heart was nervously breaking down in front of him and caused you to do the same. His voice sounded different and was a lot sweeter than it was before, and it made you wonder what the fuck happened after the other day that caused you to be like this. Was Phillip having the same thing happen to him? You didn’t know and no matter how desperately you wanted to, the thoughts and feelings were forcefully buried down as much as they could be.

The door to the room you were in opened and you turned to see Phillip was back with a nurse, as well as a plate of food with a bottle of water for you to intake. There was a warm smile on his face, and it just made your situation worse. No matter how hard you pushed down the sudden feelings you had towards Phillip, they would always float back up. “Thank you so much, Phillip…” you mumble. “No, if anythin’ it should be me doing the thankin’ here. You saved my damn life the other day, takin’ that sniper bullet for me. How is it that you continue to impress me despite the two of us workin’ together this long?” Phillip praises. You want to turn away but you can’t, that southern charm taking a deep hold to your body as your heart takes over your logic. “I’m…not too sure myself, but I appreciate it a lot Phillip…” you say softly, the nerves getting to you for once.

Phillip smiles more than he had previously, placing the plate of food on your bed before handing you the bottle of water. “Thank you…” you say softly. “Anythin’ for you. That nurse is gonna get you the care you need until the doc can come in and see your shoulder. Bit of a shame you won’t be there with me when we finally catch Hasan.” Phillip says. “Those docs we got had all the intel we needed? I’ll be damned…” you say, laughing softly as you take some morphine provided by the nurse. “Wouldn’t have gotten them if it weren’t for you having that smoke grenade and pushin’ me to the floor. I’ll be back later, rest that shoulder up okay?” Phillip says, gently rubbing the safer part of your back. “Before you leave…” you say, looking up at him. “Yes, Y/N?” he asks. “How…long have you been sitting there..?” you ask. “Well after having a briefing with Shepherd the night we got back, I came here and waited until it was safe to go in and see you.” Phillip said.

Your eyes widen upon hearing that he was practically there the entire time, waiting for you to wake up. It was never a thought in your mind that someone was so dedicated to you, platonically or not, and wanted to see that you were truly okay. It screwed your mind up more than it was at this point, and you were beginning to confuse platonic feelings for romantic ones. But how was it even possible to feel what you did, especially for your own superior? To even know what love felt like?

You needed more. So much more from Phillip.

Six months would come to pass and you’d heal up well and found yourself to have spent more time with Phillip whenever he had time to see you while you had been recovering. He began doting on you a lot, pampering you and making sure you were okay in the end. Your physical therapy didn’t last too long thankfully, and you were put back in the field in no time. You were about to meet the men from Task Force 141 for the first time and it made you anxious. You had no idea what their motives were and why you had to work alongside them, convinced you and Shadow Company were the only things needed. Time was also taken to settle yourself emotionally, still finding yourself to be pining after your own superior.

But unbeknownst to you, Phillip was feeling the same thing. That look the two of you exchanged when you saved his life before realizing and remembering you had been shot downright forced him to, out of fear of losing the you as you were the only person he was closest to and didn’t know he had been in love with, do everything he could to make sure you were safe. Sure Phillip had had his attractions to all sorts of people, eventually finding himself sleeping around when he could. Despite this, nobody ever came into comparison for the way he did you. He took you under his wing and saw how damn near animalistic it was to witness you take the lives of his enemies; it was so much that it practically excited him. Phillip needed you, just as much as you did him.

Gearing yourself up alone in your private quarters, you sense a presence that didn’t feel as familiar and you froze up and waited to see what was to happen. But before you could even attempt anything, you were pinned to the wall and your arms were held to your back. After a bit of a power struggle, you broke out of the mysterious person’s grasp and swiftly pinned them to the wall. You finally realize it was Phillip that had pinned you, and you could see the wild lust and adoration in his eyes. “Ain’t nobody can do that better than you can, baby.” Phillip said. “I suppose I could say the same about you, sir.” you say. Phillip puts an idea over your lips, shushing you before he speaks, “Address me properly as your superior, Captain.” You momentarily look away, flustered by this sudden entanglement, “I could say the same to you, Commander Graves.” comes out in a whisper. “Good job.” Phillip says.

He leans forwards and catches your lips between his. Your eyes wide and staring into his own, as they’re pointed in a harsh and cruel glare, you see a sense of an animalistic danger. Phillip then pulls away, slowly leaning close to your ear, “Have I ever told you that I’ve had a deep, obsessive love for you?” he whispers. Heart thundering in your ears, you shake your head, “No, Commander Graves. Never heard it from you.” you say firmly. “Then let me tell it to you now; I love you so much that it hurts from how bad I need you. Nobody’s ever been at my level the way you are and it fills my heart with a warmth I can’t contain.” Phillip whispers. Physically weakening, your grip on him goes limp and he takes this as a chance to flip your positions once more. “Commander Graves?” you ask softly, staring into Phillip’s eyes. “What is it, Y/N?” he asks. “I feel the same way. Ever since that night, I’ve felt an emotion I never thought I could. But…what are we now?” you ask nervously. Phillip chuckles and shakes his head.

“We’re partners now. Not just in the field, but also behind closed doors.”

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #phillip graves #cod graves #graves x reader #slight angst #implied violence #mentioned violence #cod x reader #cod shadow company

[verdantcrimson]

Gourmand Fragrance / Wagashi Revolution - 6

(Unproofread)

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[A few days later, on the day of the show filming.]

Keito: …Hm? Anzu, did you come here to watch the shoot?

Keito: You have my gratitude. Today’s shooting was only possible thanks to you, Anzu. Thank you.

Keito: You say that you’re ‘looking forward to receiving something in return’? Naturally, I’ll return the favor somehow.

Keito: Well, it’s nearly time for filming to begin. For now, I’ll express my gratitude by making the best Valentine’s day wagashi possible.

Keito: Yes, do look forward to it.

Rei: “Greetings, everyone~♪, ‘Gourmand Fragrance’, the cooking program that shows you simple sweets that you can make and enjoy at home, starts now~.”

Rei: “Since this episode is a Valentine’s day special, the four of us plan to make adorable Valentine’s chocolates.”

Nazuna: “The simple sweet that we’re going to show you how to make this time is a kind of wagashi called nerikiri!”

Nazuna: “Wagashi and Valentine’s day are a strange combo, don’tcha think?”

Keito: “However, wagashi are still a kind of sweet at the end of the day, and nerikiri is quite aesthetically pleasing.”

Keito: “You can even make heart-shaped nerikiri. It’s a cute wagashi that’s perfect for Valentine’s day.”

Kuro: “Some people say it’s hard to make, but it’s surprisin’ly easy.”

Kuro: “Hasumi danna over here ain’t used to makin’ sweets, but he still managed to whip up a delicious batch. ♪”

Nazuna: “Well, experience is the best teacher, so let’s get cooking!”

Rei: “First, put the glutinous rice powder in a heat-resistant bowl and add water.”

Rei: “We’ll leave that step to Hasumi-kun, our beginner cook, just to show you that newbies can make this dish too. ♪”

Keito: “Yes. Firstly, we’ll measure out our rice flour and water.”

Rei: “Be sure to follow the recipe properly. Or else, you may end up with dough so hard that it’ll break your teeth.”

Keito: “Don’t make fun of me all the time, you’re incorrigible. However, like you said, we do have to be cautious about the measurements.”

Keito: “Thirty grams of rice flour… Phew, alright. Water is… Sixty grams.”

Keito: “Mm? There’s not enough water. Just a bit more…”

Keito: “Ugh, there are twice as many grams this time. Incorrigible…”

Rei: (He’s pouring water in and out repetitively. It’d be easier if he made adjustments using a smaller cup...)

Rei: (Hasumi-kun is struggling quite a bit to make these sweets. It’s a far cry from his usual self.)

Rei: (His fans will surely be happy to see this new side of him. ♪)

Keito: “... Alright, I’ve set aside sixty grams. Let’s move on to the next step.”

Keito: “Add half of the water to the rice flour… Ah, I see. So do I have to divide the water in half?”

Keito: “I should’ve measured out the halves separately in the first place… The method I used was just bad!”

Rei: “Now now, calm yourself, Hasumi-kun. A slight error is no cause for concern. There should be no issue if you just eyeball the measurements.”

Keito: “Personally, I’m not a fan of the ambiguity of measuring by eye… Is this around the right amount?”

Keito: “No, I think I poured too much in. There’s only ten grams of water left!”

Keito: “Guh, I knew I should’ve measured it out properly...”

Rei: “Oh dear, this battle might drag out for longer than expected…”

[After that incident, the cooking progressed smoothly…]

Nazuna: “♪~♪~♪ Alright! We’re done making the nerikiri paste!”

Nazuna: “Look, Kuro-chin! I dusted a bit of cocoa powder to make it brown! It’s cute, right?”

Kuro: “Yup. The chocolate color is perfect for Valentine's day.”

Nazuna: “Right~? But now comes the most important part of nerikiri making.”

Nazuna: “Wagashi are all about appearances! What kind of shape should I give them to make them look fitting for Valentine’s day?”

Nazuna: “There’s white paste and brown paste… I’ve got it!”

Nazuna: “Shape it into a ball, add some ears, and then use a chocolate pen…”

Nazuna: “And I’m done! Have a look, Kuro-chin, It turned out so cute!”

Kuro: “A white and chocolate-colored rabbit, huh? It’s exactly the sort of wagashi you’d make, Nito. ♪”

Kuro: “Oh, and if ya look closer, it’s got a heart-shaped tail. Ya did great with the details.”

Nazuna: “Eheheh, right~! That’s a discreet little detail I added. If it was just a rabbit, it wouldn’t be Valentine’s themed after all. ♪”

Nazuna: “What about you, Kuro-chin?”

Kuro: “Me? Well, I kinda made ‘em without worryin’ too much about Valentine’s, but I settled on makin’ a couple of flowers for now.”

Nazuna: “No, wait, aren’t you a little too good at this, Kuro-chin!? These white and brown roses are practically blooming!”

Kuro: “Haha, the stick used for craftin’ was kinda like a sewin’ needle once I got used to it. It felt a bit like makin’ clothes and ended up bein’ surprisingly fun.”

Kuro: “But, I still gotta figure out a way to add a Valentine’s touch to it like you did, Nito.”

Kuro: “Got it. I’ll try makin’ the next one with heart-shaped petals. ♪”

Nazuna: “Ooh~ Kuro-chin, you’re amazing! I won’t be outdone by you though!”

Nazuna: “I’ve still got a lot of leftover ingredients to work with, and I’ll come up with a whole bunch of ideas for Valentine’s nerikiri. ♪”

Rei: (Hm… Seems like Kiryu-kun and Nito-kun’s wagashi-making is going smoothly.)

Rei: (And I was wondering about what would happen to Hasumi-kun at first too, but—)

Keito: “...Yes. Look, Sakuma. I was able to shape it into a cute heart.”

Keito: “I can make nerikiri that suits Valentine’s day too. ♪”

Rei: “Kuku, indeed. It’s a wonderful wagashi that wouldn’t be shameful to serve up in the slightest.”

Rei: “I won’t be beaten by everyone else either. I shall make wagashi worthy of being the star of Valentine’s day as well. ♪”

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#Gourmand Fragrance #Keito Hasumi #Kuro Kiryu #Rei Sakuma #Nazuna Nito

[northern-typist]

father of the bride ~ bbc ghosts ~ part one (of two)

A/N ~ Alright folks, this is just a quick two-parter that I came up with on a long car journey. I’ve taken some liberties with the ‘Rachel Fawcett’ character and melded her into my own version.

button house, may

Rachel Fawcett was many things - a liberal, environmentally cautious, an acute over thinker and a whiz at pub quizzes.

One thing she was not, however, was a coward. No. Fawcett’s were not cowards, they couldn’t be (and wouldn’t,) the notion weaved into their DNA at conception.

But as she indicated up the long, winding drive, her stomach started to swallow her whole. Rain lashing down onto the windscreen. Wind blowing the car about. Bad omen? Maybe so. Button House was the place her father had passed away. She’d been warned against going by almost everyone she spoke to about the matter. Her friends, her mother - especially her mother. She could hear her condemnations now-

"Why in Christ would you want to host your wedding there?"

But Rachel had been adamant, she wanted her wedding day to be special and this was the place it was going to be (luckily her fiancé agreed and that was that.)

Parking the car by the cracked fountain, she gathered her belongings and exited. Instantly, the door swung open, a beaming and slightly nervous Alison Cooper greeted her. Her eyes briefly darting behind her, but straight back to Rachel.

“Hi.” Rachel greeted quietly, “sorry that I’m late, I couldn’t quite find the place and then-“ she motioned to the house, “you know.” Daniel always told her she was incredibly brave, but she doubted that right then.

Alison just shrugged. “Oh, it’s fine. Glad you still were able to make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” she raced to the front door and entered, Alison making way, “finding a place to host a wedding is difficult enough these days, what with the cost of everything, so we’re incredibly grateful.”

“Is he coming?”

It took Rachel a moment, taking off her damp coat and frowning, but then- “Oh, yes, Dan! He’s travelling down from Edinburgh, got some work thing. He’ll be here though; he's dying to check out the house before the big day.”

“Great.” Alison grinned, taking Rachel’s coat and hanging it up. “Make yourself at home, I’ll get the kettle on and find Mike, he should be around here somewhere.”

Leaving Rachel alone, Alison headed off towards the kitchen, closing the door behind her and bracing herself for the oncoming storm, and OH boy, was that storm turning into a hurricane…

~

Alison stirred the teabag and inhaled, the voices around her all drowning into one. Finally, the spoon was placed down, and she turned, addressing her posse of ghosts.

“Alright, one question at a time please.”

Thomas went first. “Who is that beauty? You must introduce us, Alison.”

“Absolutely not, next”

Then it was Kitty. “She’s very familiar, has she been to one of your parties, or maybe a guest.”

“Hopefully she's not one of your God-awful friends. Highly unacceptable people.” Fanny interjected brashly, she had a point.

Alison gritted her teeth, ignoring the slight on her friends and turned towards the remaining three, “Anything from you?”

“Are we allowed to attend the party?” Pat enquired, excited about the prospect of more lovely music and people in the house.

“Of course, Pat, of course.”

Robin grunted happily - that had also been his question, so that left The Captain. He adjusted his swagger stick and stood straighter. “Anything to report about this one? Anything of interest?”

Alison picked up the cups and nodded firmly. “She’s here to host her wedding, that’s all. But wanted to see the place first. She’s staying for a night or two, just whilst her fiancé joins her. He hasn't seen the house yet. Oh- actually, there’s actually something I wanted to speak to Julian about,” she peered around the excited group but couldn’t see the suspect, “where’s Julian?”

~

Rachel felt oddly at home here… and she couldn’t place why. Every furnishing felt like a memory that she’d secretly repressed. Staring at the crackling fire, Rachel picked at her sleeve, unable to fully relax into the plush settee. Regardless of the warmth of the room, a shiver ran down her spine. A brief glance around the room.

Nothing…

Except for the pant-less ghost wavering a few feet behind the blonde newcomer, not that Rachel could see him. Julian didn’t need an introduction, he knew exactly who this was. His blue eyes stared down. Unable to look away. In all his time with the dead, he’d wondered what she would look like now. Sure, Alison had shown him those pages on the computer, the occasional mention on the Radio. He even remembers hearing a brief mention of her on the 6 o’clock News - she had switched parties during a rather difficult voting period, a Red now, not a Green.

This was his daughter, his Rachel.

“There you are!”

Both father and daughter turned to face the door, Alison standing with a bright smile and two cups of tea. Julian met Alison’s eye curiously as she entered, a silent question - ‘when was you going to tell me?’ Alison tried to brush him off with a smile and seated herself on Rachel’s right.

“Here you go.” Alison said softly, handing Rachel the brew. She then motioned for Julian to join them. It was subtle, but he took the invitation gladly, perching on the coffee table.

“Cheers Alison.” Rachel grinned.

Alison and Rachel spent a moment sipping on their beverages, which gave Alison the opportunity to observe the father-daughter duo. There wasn’t much of a difference. The same bold blue eyes, sandy-blonde hair - with a middle parting, Fawcett’s all had them, she remembered Julian once telling her.

“So, how do you like the house?” Alison queried, hopeful.

Rachel took another long sip and smiled softly. “It’s a beautiful house, you and Mike should be very proud of yourselves. I can’t wait for Dan to see it,” another sip, “but lord knows how long that’ll take, that storm doesn’t look like it’s going to stop.”

“Dan? Who’s Dan?”

“We’re trying with it,” Alison said. “We didn’t think we’d be hosting anymore weddings, to be honest—“

“What’s this about a wedding-“

“I’m bloody glad that you still are.” Rachel breathed, “my mother warned against coming here, said that I would bring shame upon the family, upon my party.” Julian held his breath, his wife was correct, as she always had been, yet Rachel persisted, “but I don’t care about all of that, I know you probably know about my father and how he… Well, the circumstances of his death.”

Alison kept one eye on Julian and on Rachel, then nodded. “I’ve been told. Sorry, by the way, I know that was probably hard for you to learn.”

Instead of sadness there was only hints of humour from Rachel. “Don’t be sorry, us Fawcett’s are a different breed, he may be gone and may have been a colossal idiot-“

“But he was your father.”

“He was my dad.”

And in that moment, the two girls knew they had an unspoken With that, the pair continued to drink their tea, falling into small talk about their lives. Julian opened his mouth but found he couldn’t speak. His throat tight, eyes slightly watering. Instead he exited the room, slowly, slightly forlorn. His thoughts still in the warmth of the room as he meandered through the corridors in search of his ghostly friends.

~

The storm had lessened by eight but there was still no sign of Dan, just a text to say that his train would be delayed, no surprises there. Mike ordered a round of Pizza’s, enjoyed by the humans and envied by the ghosts, then the couple sent a tired Rachel to nap, stating that: “they’d wait for Dan.”

Julian hadn’t said much during dinner, the other ghosts had taken note, but waited until Mike had sauntered upstairs to watch the latest episode of Big Brother (it wasn’t really Alison’s thing.) The remaining residents of Button House sat and stood, waiting for Julian to begin talking.

He sensed the group’s questions, so decided to address them. “She’s my daughter.”

“That’s Rachel?” Pat cried with wide eyes.

“That’s Rachel, my Rachel. It appears that she’s having her wedding here.”

Fanny frowned, crossing her arms. “And she’s aware that you died here, like that.” She motioned to his bottom half. Julian nodded silently causing her to just shake her head.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Thomas chimed in from the settee, “Your daughter must not hold a grudge, she must have some semblance of respect for you, but I’m not sure why.”

“Amen.” Fanny supplied.

Alison glanced around the room, stopping at Julian, tentative. “How do you feel about all of this?”

“It’s… Hard. She’s not a pixel on a screen anymore, she’s here.” Julian adjusted a cuff link and sniffled, he wouldn’t cry in front of them. “But Margot seems to have done well, all things considered.”

The Captain made to add to the conversation when a rapturous knock echoed on the front door downstairs. The group shot up, running straight to the windows. They couldn’t see who was there, the rain now pelting the glass harder. Alison rose from her spot by the chess board and raced down, ghosts in hot pursuit, to the front door. The knocking continued. Unlocking it, she swung the door open and stared out at the stranger.

“It’s Dan, right?” Alison gasped.

The stranger turned and lowered the hood of their coat, nodding and bundling inside quickly, glad to be out of the storm.

Dan shook out the rain from his greying hair and smiled at Alison, who was trying to switch on the nearest lamp, “Hi, yes, I’m Dan.”

He stretched out a polite hand and Alison finally got a chance to see his face, but could only gasp at him - the gasp reverberating amongst the ghosts also. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible.

The Captain grasped his swagger-stick, standing frozen alongside Julian, and felt his heart plummet into his stomach, if such a thing could happen to a dead man.

Dan was the spitting image of The Captain, just a few years younger and no moustache.

Cutting through the small silence was light footsteps on the stairs, quickly descending to the front door. Rachel reached the bottom, ghosts jumping out of her way, as she raced into Dan’s slightly damp arms. As the pair embraced - the group stared and stared.

“Good Lord.” The Captain muttered.

Well, this was certainly a new development.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #bbc ghosts imagine #rachel fawcett #julian fawcett #the captain #don’t mind me #back on my bullshit

[rebelliousstories]

A Grimm Mistake

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Brief Strong Language, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending

Word Count: 4,004

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Summary: What lengths would you go to protect your love?

“They dared no longer hide the truth from her, but said it was the will of Heaven,”

Rolling over in bed, the shrill ring of her phone made her groan.

“Burkhardt.” She answered.

“Hey sis,” her brother started, “sorry to wake you, but I’ve got a weird case that I need your language expertise on.” He finished.

“Official or unofficial?” She asked, already making her way to the bathroom to start her shower.

“I put in the request for official help, but there will definitely be some unofficial business to attend to.” Breathing a deep sigh, she nodded. Her brother had kind of trapped her if she wanted to say no.

“Alright. I’ll be at your precinct in an hour.” Hanging up the phone, she checked the time. 6:30 AM. This was far too early. Hands wrapped around her waist and drew her into a firm toned chest.

“It’s not often that I’m the one left in bed alone.” Letting out a chuckle, she turned around and kissed her lover firmly. They had yet to brush their teeth this morning, but neither cared too much.

“Oh, yes. You and your many lovers now. Those poor women.” He laughed at her sarcastic remarks, and opened the door for the shower. They stepped in together and let the steam envelope them. As she began to wash, her lover seemed more preoccupied with kissing every inch of her skin that he could reach.

“Sean, I need to get going. My brother needs me. I’ve gotta get to your precinct in less than an hour.” She complained, swatting the man away as he kept trying to pull more kisses from her.

“I’m sure he’ll understand. Besides, I’m sure his boss will understand. I hear he’s a reasonable man to attractive young ladies.” Spinning her around, he managed to steal another kiss from her lips before she pushed him away.

“Seriously Sean. I need to be going!” She scolded him, and finishing washing herself. Slipping out of the shower, she winked to her lover that was leaning against the wall with a cocky smirk on his face.

He watched her walk out of the room before continuing to wash himself. How he got so lucky to be in love with a strong and determined woman? However, that was briefly tainted in his mind by the fact that he knew he was hiding something. But there was no reason he saw to tell her about him. His mind flooded with a whisper of red hair and Sean nearly sent his head into the wall with how much and fast he tried to clear his head.

“Sean,” she yelled, “I’m taking some of the cold brew coffee. You have an espresso on the counter and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Love you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thank you dear. I love you too,” he returned her call as he shut off the shower, “see you tonight. Be safe.” Renard listened to the front door close, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He considered climbing back into bed and getting some rest before he had to be up himself for work, but that was quickly dashed out in favor of answering the phone that was still in the bedside drawer. No number, per usual, greeted Sean as he sat down on the bed, with nothing more than a towel around his waist.

“Oui?”

Meanwhile, the female Burkhardt had arrived early at the police precinct with an email of assistance request for the captain to sign off on before she could get to work. Walking inside the busy building, it only took her a moment to locate her brother and his partner.

“Nicky!” She called, joyously going up to and embracing the man. Nick wrapped his arms around his sister in return.

“Hey thirteen.” He chuckled as the woman hit his back playfully, and disengaged to embrace the other man at the desks.

“Hey Hank.” Her smile winded as the man squeezed her tightly.

“Hey cutie. Missed you around here.” Hank replied, and finally let the woman go. As if she had a lightbulb go off in her head, she shook the small box that was placed in her hands.

“Oh, here you guys go. I know for a fact that if you guys were in the office before me, you didn’t eat.” The two men smiled before tearing into the box, and gladly pulled out their treats.

“Donut man is the best in the biz, I swear. Thanks sis. Here, pull up a chair.” Nick motioned to an empty seat that she brought over.

“Bringing donuts to cops? What did you do this time, preferred Burkhardt?” A voice known as Wu piped up behind the trio. She smiled at the man and brought the box closer to the sergeant.

“I got the one you like.” She offered, and happily watched the man dig into the donut she had brought.

“Wait, ‘preferred Burkhardt’? What’s that supposed to mean Wu?” The other Burkhardt questioned, with a touch of frosting at the corner of his upturned lips. Wu took a moment to finish the bit he was currently on, and smiled at the detective.

“Simple. It means that i like your sister more than you.” And he walked away. Hank laughed with one of the Burkhardt siblings, and the other one was Nick who was now pouting in his chair with the last bit of his donut. But he straightened up when he saw a new man come into the precinct.

“Captain!” Nick called, catching the man’s attention. Trying not to turn around quickly, the female Burkhardt turned to face the police captain that was steadily approached the group. Their eyes locked on for a second before they both turned to Nick.

“Morning. This is the translator I was asking to request for my current case. My little sister.” He offered her name to the captain, like they had just met and were not tangled up in matching sheets last night. But she hit her brother with a scowl.

“We’re twins, you moron. I’m not your little sister.” She politely shook hands with Renard who watched in amusement at the interaction he was watching.

“You’re thirteen minutes younger, so yes. You’re my little twin sister.” Nick held a beaming grin on his face at his sister’s annoyance.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to have you helping us, Ms. Burkhardt. I imagine that you’ve already gotten conformation on the request?” Sean now turned to the male Burkhardt. He tried to keep his eyes from drifting over, but it happened a couple times against his will.

“Just waiting on your signature, captain.” He replied. Renard nodded, and dropped his eyes to the floor. Anywhere was better than looking directly at her. He marched off to his office to finish up the paperwork and get away from the woman. They still had yet to tell her brother, unsure of how he would take the news of his boss and his sister together.

“Wonder what he’s all weird about this morning. Usually he’s more professional.” Nick commented, watching the captain stalk away. His sister beside him just shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe it’s the charm I’ve got. Wu likes me more, so maybe your captain does too.” She teased, clapping her brother on the shoulder. They returned to the desk and waited for the email to come through before he could show her the evidence. A ping caught their attention, and they eagerly opened it.

“Looks like Agent Burkhardt is on the case as a consultant.” Nick proclaimed proudly to his sister.

“Let’s get this done. Hey, how’s Juliette doing? With the whole, you know, remembering thing?” She asked as her brother rummaged around for a file. He paused for a moment and felt himself stiffen under the question.

“She still doesn’t remember and I am now staying at Monroe’s.” Nick admitted quietly.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She did not know what more she could say than that.

“It’s fine,” he brushed it off, “hey, how’s it going with your boyfriend that you refuse to introduce me to?” Now it was her turn to stiffen.

“He’s good. He’s been a little distant lately, but I think it might be the work he’s doing. Other than that, he’s good.” It almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself, as Nick raised an eyebrow while he passed her the file.

“You sure about that? Do I need to have a talk with Mr. Law Enforcement?” He teased, and laughed as he dodged a swat from his sister.

“If anyone is gonna be beating someone up, I’m definitely joining.” Hank commented, coming back in with another thing of coffee.

“No one is beating anyone up.” Came her squeak as Hank ruffled her hair.

“Who are we not beating up?” Wu joined in. She let out a frustrated sigh.

“No one. No one is beating no one up.” She tried to turn to the file.

“Her boyfriend she refuses to introduce me to.” Nick replied, and laughed at the way she blushed with her nose in the file.

“Oh I’m free tonight or next Wednesday. So let’s pick a time that I can join.” Wu stated, and walked away with a smile on his face.

“Okay, okay. We should probably get down to business. I mean, we have plenty more time to tease your sister.” Hank saved the female from the relentless teasing. She sent an appreciative smile towards the man, and tried to understand her work in front of her.

“So this is a lot of Russian it looks like. Obviously a very well read man but it’s an odd combination.” She commented, and grabbed a scrap piece of paper off of her brother’s desk along with a pen as she began to transcribe the writings in the photos that she saw. The bloodied messages were beautiful, which was the conundrum as to why they were written in blood.

“What did you find?” Nick over his sister’s shoulder, and tried to see what she saw.

“These phrases, they’re all about heaven and God.” She held up the photo with a grease in Russian that he could not tell what it said.

“This phrase, the lord give the and the lord taketh away. Literally translates to God gave, and God took back. Where as this one,” she held up the next picture from the wall of the victim’s home, ”third times a charm. Literally, God likes trinity.” She finished with her explanation.

“What about this one?” Nick pointed at the last photo. Her face did not show much enthusiasm.

“God marks the crook.” Came her solemn phrase. The three breathed deep sighs.

“So could we be looking at a vigilante with a religious streak? There were three victims in the house. Maybe he thinks that he was marking the crook.” The male Burkhardt thought aloud.

“So we need to find someone proficient in Russian, has some sort of ties to religion, and likes three’s. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Hank piped up finally.

The trio sat to work, burying themselves in what they could find, entirely unaware of the eyes that were watching them from an office. Sean’s yes kept drifting in between the two Burkhardts, and felt the overwhelming urge to march out of there. But he forced himself to remain in his seat and work. The flashes of last night and this morning were marred with streaks of red hair and brown eyes, which kept coming back no matter how many times he tried to get rid of them. However, he could not focus too much longer, as the trio left together.

“I don’t even know where to start and we’re already hitting the books.” Hank complained as they settled into Aunt Marie’s trailer. Nick scoffed, already thumbing through the pages.

“I feel you. We should have gotten food.” He seconded his friend’s lament.

“I told you to stop but you said no.” His sister’s voice cut through the fog. Nick leveled a look she did not bother to look up to see. And with a jump, she stood and brought her book to her companions attention.

“Here we go. A Chelovekvolk. Literally translated to a wolf man, but it is interpreted as-”

“A werewolf. Wow. Out of all we’ve seen, never thought I’d be able to see one of these.” Nick cut her off and took a closer look to her book.

“Here,” she pointed to an entry, “Russia, 1918. Just after the Great War. ‘I have encountered such a baffling discovery. A true werewolf. Only this one does not require the full moon to transform, only itself. I waited in the snowy woodlands around his cabin for two days and two nights before I found that he was harboring a selection of young girls from the neighboring villages. I tried to dispatch him, but no matter how hard I hit him, he only seemed to become more enraged. In a desperate attempt for anything, I failed to notice his hands close around my neck, yet jumped back as soon as he did so. Burned into him was a perfect impression of my cross which had been gifted to me, made entirely of pure silver.’” She continued to read the page even with her brother butting in.

“So were to find a werewolf vigilante? This sounds like a comic book.” Hank joked, rubbing his eyes. Making their way out of the trailer, the trio stopped off for some food. Happily, with food now, they returned to the precinct to find whoever they were looking for. This was the difficult part, finding a way to make their Grimm knowledge helpful for their detective work. When they did it the other way around, having a suspect but not knowing what type of wesen it is, was always so much easier.

They stayed there until late, even later than their captain who had bid them a goodnight, and tried not let his eyes linger on the female Burkhardt for too long. Everyone was running on fumes at this point, with a box of pizza discarded and a few cups of coffee emptied. Leaning back in his seat, Nick yawned for the third time in five minutes.

“Alright. Let’s start fresh in the morning. We aren’t getting anything done like this.” Burkhardt commented, that his sister and partner seconded.

“Well, let’s go get some sleep. Goodnight boys.” Giving out hugs, and promising to see them in the morning, she made her way to her car. She grabbed some takeout on the way home, needing something to eat and knowing that Sean could never refuse the olive oil cake that the little Italian diner had. Making her way up to the condo, her expression hardened as she heard something roughing up inside. A tentative knock was given and the noises stopped.

“Sean, is that you?” She called, and waited for an answer.

“Yes.” He growled. His voice sounded deeper, almost like a- no. Sean was not a wesen. She would have seen it before had he been. Being a Grimm for almost twenty years, she did not get snuck up on anymore.

“Okay.” Her key fit through the hole, however a thud prevented her from opening it.

“No!” Sean roared, frightening her enough to make her take a few steps back.

“Sean, are you okay? Let me in.” She tried once more, and had to shove the door in order to get inside. What she saw was carnage. A vase was shattered, pictures were knocked over, the table by the front door had been lying on the floor face down. but her boyfriend refused to show her his face. All she saw was his back.

“Sean?” Reaching her hand out, she was amazed at the heat coming off of his skin. He reacted violently, turning his body more into himself than previously.

“Stop.” He let out another growl, and held his face in his hands.

“What aren’t you showing me? Are you hurt on your face?” She tried to spin him around, but Renard kept his feet planted firmly on the ground.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Came his whimper. He did not sound like the strong and confident man that she had fallen in love with.

“Sean, just let me see. It can’t be that bad.” Her attempts to turn him around were in vain.

“No. You wouldn’t understand it. I can’t control this right now. You need to leave.” Sean tried to stalk into the bedroom, but his lover followed him.

“I’m not leaving till I see your face. Did something happen?” She kept pushing but he did not allow her to get close again.

“You’ll hate me.” He whispered. It was so low that she thought he had not said anything for a minute, and simply thought that she had imagined it.

“How could I hate you for something you can’t control? I love you Sean. That’s not going to change.” She rested her hands against his back, and tried to move him once more. When she finally got him to turn, his face was perfectly fine. It confused her so much, and his voice when he spoke was different once more.

“I’m fine. See? No harm done.” He tried to reassure her, but she was confused.

“Why wouldn’t you show me your face?” She questioned, scanning over every inch of him now.

“It’s nothing. Let’s eat, okay?” Once more, Sean tried to steer them back towards the kitchen, but he was not having it.

“No. Why wouldn’t you show me? What wouldn’t you show me?” Her voice kept growing louder and louder with each demand.

“Darling, let’s just sit down and eat something. It’s been a long day for both of us. I know I’ve had a stressful day.” Renard’s pleas kept getting in the way of her demands as he tried to calm her down.

“What’re you trying so hard to hide?” She finally screamed, her back hitting the ledge of the counter. Sean felt like he was caught between a rock and a hard place with her. His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water as he struggled to find the right words to say.

“There’s something about me that, if you know, I’m afraid it will change how you look at me.” He admitted quietly. Having nowhere else to go, she allowed her lover to get closer and closer until he finally closed his hands around her that hung limply down.

“Well, I know for a fact you’ve never been to jail or prison. So what could you possibly have that would make me go away from you?” Her questions made Sean’s heart hurt in his chest.

“Just know that it’s still me, okay? But I can’t keep hiding this from you. Not with everything else that is going on in my life right now. This is just-” choking on his words, Sean suppressed the woge he felt coming. But her hands raised, and cupped his cheeks softly.

“Tell me right now, Sean. Or I’m walking out of that door.” Her threat sounded like a promise. Taking one last deep breath in, Renard tried to memorize her scent just in case. The smell of her perfume and her beautiful shampoo and conditioner. The same ones that laid in his bathroom right now. They could be gone in an instant. This instant. The man took one step back, and felt it come on. And he heard her shocked gasp.

Sean could feel his right eye and left side of his lips deform, and immediately felt shame. He was not often ashamed of his heritage, it came in handy more often than not, but right now; he detested himself with every ounce of his being. Shutting his eyes, Renard waited for the inevitable door to shut, and leave him alone. But it never came. The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to him almost made him want to open his eyes. His zauberbiest side felt like it was in danger with the Grimm in the room.

The shock of feeling her hands trace on his face made Sean flinch. Her delicate fingers ran over the deformed sides of his face, and he was now the one confused. Opening his eyes, he saw her before him, gazing at him in confusion but with an undertone of love.

“What are you?” She whispered. Her voice was so low that he almost missed it.

“Zauberbiest. Half, actually. It’s the male version of a hexenbiest.” Renard whispered back, keeping his hands down by his side.

“Why couldn’t I see you before?” Any other person would have questioned exactly what she meant, but not Sean.

“The other half of me is royal. And I have very good control over myself.” Shaking her head, she rested her hands against his cheeks and stared at him.

“And you know what I am?” It almost came out like a whimper from her.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Do you know about my brother?” Another question.

“Yes.” Another confirmation. She exalted a breath from her lungs, as if she had it knocked out of her.

“Does he know?” Her question came several minutes after Sean had spoken, but he shook his head.

“No. He doesn’t.” Feeling like he had proven his point, he forced the woge back underneath his skin. But she looked up even faster when he did so.

“Don’t hid yourself from me. Please?” She begged, thought neither one of them would acknowledge it. Renard laughed in disbelief as a smile spread across his perfect and normal features.

“You want to see that again? Why aren’t you running for the door or to take my head?” He questioned, finally raising his hands to rest on his lover’s hips.

“Because,” she began, running her fingers over where the marred skin had previously been, “you’re still my Sean. You knew exactly what I was when we began dating and didn’t run for the hills. So either you truly love me, or you’re using me.” She joked, and felt the face under her hands change.

“Which if you are using me and playing the long game, just gotta say, that’s impressive self control.” Sean let out a chuckle at that. He sent the biest back into its cage, and pressed a kiss to her head.

“Oh no. You’ve deduced my sinister plans already. I’ve got to find a new plan now.” He teased, and wrapped her in a hug that kept her tucked against his chest.

“That’s what I do. I ruin your plans.” She joked back,and pressed a kiss to his chest.

“Are we still good?” Renard asked once they had calmed down, and allowed a moment of silence.

“Yeah. We are.” She replied, feeling safe tucked into her man’s chest. However, her stomach chose to rumble at that moment, causing the pair to draw away from each other.

“I need food.” She giggled, and turned around to the takeout that was still on the counter. Having no remembrance of how it got placed there, she happily dug into her pasta and garlic knots that were now room temperature.

“Ah. I see someone decided to treat themselves to some Italian.” Sean commented, but was soon stunned into silence by the cake that was pressed into his hands.

“I got you your cake. Figured you had a bad day so I wanted to cheer you up.” She said, through bites of pasta and bread. He set down the cake and procured two forks while he waited for his lover to finish her meal. Having seemingly inhaled the food, it was only a few more minutes before she was wiping the last bits of sauce from her mouth and hands.

“Join me?” Sean asked, holding one of the forks out to her. She accepted and was pulled to the couch by the man. There they sat, a Grimm and a zauberbiest on the couch, eating a shared cake, and enjoying their company.

#rebelliousstories #writing #grimm imagine #sean renard imagine #sean renard #hangman seresin x you #hank griffin #nick burkhardt #sergeant wu