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tulipsforyourlips · 28 days

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✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (6)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 4K

WARNINGS: slight angst

A/N: okay brace yourselves ladies it's a long chapter. and slow paced too but i genuinely loved writing this chapter and showing intimate conversations between dream and her. its a slow burn after all the chemistry has to be right.

PART 6 ✧˖°.

"Morning lads," you greeted the pair sorting through the daily mail.

"Mornin- woah what happened?" Charles' eyes motioned to your hand.

What? How were your injuries from your dreams transferring into real life? Well, technically that happened outside your dream. Whatever, you had no energy to mull over the technicalities of the realm differences, that was better left to the Endless.

"Eh nothing. Just slightly cut my hand open on the bed railing."

"How did that even- you know what nevermind."

"How's Jesse doing?" You changed the subject.

The boys had been monitoring her full night.

"The demon did peek through but for like half a second. Too brief for us to use our incantations and extract him out," Charles answered. "Poor kid. Must be suffering."

You gulped down some water and nodded.

"So? I was in-"

"Hell for seventy years." Charles and you finished his sentence.

"Oi turn up the volume a bit," you said as the television screen displayed some news in the background.

"As you can see around us ladies and gentlemen, the sleepy sickness has indeed made a comeback. We have Shiara's parents with us right now who has been diagnosed with the same, just one victim out of the thousands being affected," the lady reported from a hospital.

Shit shit shit. This was bad.

"Will the number soon soar to millions like it did around a century back?" The reporter continued.

You had obviously read about it. And Morpheus himself had told you how his imprisonment had befallen this plague on the waking world.

"That's..intense," Edwin said.

You never heard Charles' reply because your brain was busy trying to comprehend what you had just heard. You needed to see Dream. In response to your plea, Matthew pecked against the window.

"I will be right back," you told the guys. "Need some fresh air." You grabbed your coat and hurried out.

Dream was waiting for you in the alley behind the building.

"The sleepy sickness is back," you said as you approached him.

"I know."

"But-I-," you stuttered, "I don't understand. I thought things were supposed to move in the healing direction after last night. Atleast not worsen."

"You are coming to the Dreaming with me."

"Right now?"

In answer, Morpheus fetched his sand pouch from his cloak. You knew he could easily transport you through his cloak disappearing trick. But he seemed determined to avoid any direct contact between you two. Except when he had bandaged your hand. Ugh not the time to be a hopeless romantic. Sand enveloped you in a tornado and took you to the Dreaming. Your heart shuddered when you took in the scene awaiting you. Ruins littered the ground everywhere which in turn bore fresh cracks. You revolved your head around, assessing the damage. You took a step back, bad idea. Your feet connected with nothing and you fell, would have if not for the sturdy arm wrapped around you. Something in your guts uncoiled, partially from the apparent death, and partially from the proximity of him. This close you could see the crystal blue of his sapphires for eyes. Loose rocks fell into the crevice, showing you your alternate fate. He uprighted you on secure ground before withdrawing his hand from your waist. That was the third time he had contacted you, willingly or not. Were you keeping track? For fuck's sake you almost fell to your death and that's the part you want to fixate upon?

Shoving your flustered state deep down, you asked, "How did this happen?"

"Honestly, I dont know," Dream spoke, "What I know is we need to take another approach, a more direct and dangerous one. It is our only shot at saving humanity." He looked down at you, his eyes imploring you to trust him and validate his decision.

Had he so little faith in you? "When do we start?"

"Tonight."

You were flopped on the couch alongside Jesse watching some lame ass family movie. The boys were on some haunted house case according to the note scribbled in Charles' ugly handwriting. On the screen, a daughter hugged her mom and you tasted a palette of emotions- jealousy for being denied what others had for granted, lonely for having no one to call your own, frustration for not remembering anything. Even though you had accepted the erasure of your past, you couldn't help but grieve who you were. Who were you? Someone who mattered so little that her family and friends didn't even bother looking for her? Didn't deem her worthy of putting themselves through the trouble.

The door busted open and Charles stormed through.

"Where's Edwin?"

"Fuck knows." Was all he said before shutting himself in his room.

Okay something was seriously wrong. The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it.

"Charles?"

He was sat on his bed, whimpering softly.

"Hey? What happened?" You asked in a whisper and sat down beside him.

He shook his head. You gave him time to gather his thoughts. "He just doesn't understand."

"Edwin?"

Charles sniffed, wiping his tears away. He took a deep breath and started, "There was this family. The husband murdered the wife and children."

You inhaled a bountiful. You were aware of his traumatizing past starring his abusive dad. That fucker. The first time he had told you about him, a rage you had never been familiar with before had tightened around your veins. If that sick brute hadn't already had departed the waking world, you would have hunted him down and done that.

"I am so sorry." You intertwined your fingers in his.

"I tried to intervene but apparently had some strong emotional response to it and got sucked into the situation itself. I am aces now-"

"Clearly."

He continued on, "but that didn't stop Edwin from yelling at me for getting involved in the first place." He sucked a breath. "I couldn't help it Hazel, I just couldn't. When I saw his ghost murder-" he choked on his words. New tears escaped his eyes and burned at the back of yours.

You cupped his face in your hands and swiped your thumbs across his cheekbones, dampening his tears. "Look at me Charles."

He reluctantly met your gaze. "I am so sorry you had to go through that. I can't even begin to grasp what that might have felt like. That's simply fucked up. But you have to know, if there is one person who understands you, it is Edwin. He cares for you more than any other person or ghost on this Earth. The only reason he yelled at you was because he was scared Charles." You didn't release your hold on his face. "Of losing you."

Charles' eyes softened.

"He loves you. We both do."

"I know." A hint of a smile graced his lips.

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. Charles' tearstained face kept flashing in your mind. You had found Edwin at the bottom of the stairs, equally devastated at his outlash. He had explained to you what you already knew, that he was worried for Charles, of losing him. Oh these boys were going to be the death of you, provided you survived long enough.

"You are late," Dream declared when you appeared in his realm.

"Sorry, trouble at home."

"Nothing serious," you added to erase the crease in his brows.

"I want to show you something."

"Lead the way your Highness!"

You followed him to Holy shit. You'd thought you'd toured through every phenomenon in the Dreaming, been fascinated by every miracle it had to offer. You were proved wrong as you titled your head backwards to witness the dazzling fabric of sky warping around you. When you propelled it downwards the same enchanting sight glimmered. The water was coated in the sheen of the starry night. An admiration blossomed deep in your core for the Endless standing at your side, the creator of the spectacles you had witnessed in the realm, the cause behind all your fascination. These docks just being one example, perhaps your favourite yet. After your very own dream of course.

"And this, mortal, is where the magic happens."

He extended his arms and the sea waters responded to their master's call. It roared to life from its dormant state and danced to the tunes of the Endless' hands. Spiral of waves loomed from the sea, stray droplets settling on your skin as you watched the Dream lord at work. Globes of water bounced on the ocean's surface. An assortment of objects and beings went about in their respective bubbles. In one such bubble, through its foggy exterior you recognised a dream you had gotten to trust mere days ago. And then it dawned on you, you were watching people's dreams. You were staring at the collective unconscious of the living world. There was no horizon visible as far as sight took you, the sea and the sky effortlessly blended into one entity. You were in infinity itself. Where you stood was sacred ground. And Morpheus had brought you here, to a special rendition of his soul. He trusted you. No, he had no other option but to, with the waking world now in turmoil too. Unknown to your captivated self, Dream was taking in each and every shift in your expression.

He came up just beside you. "Dip your hand in it."

You peered through the mist swathing the globules of dreams floating in front of you. Seeing your apprehension, he went first. His skin immersed the film and once he was halfway through, he rotated his head back. An invitation.

"You will be fine," he said.

"You promise?"

A thousand emotions collided in his eyes all in a fraction of a second. "I promise." And he disappeared into the globule. You followed suit and landed on your butts on solid ground. The Endless at your side who was standing on both his feet having failed to make a clown of himself unlike you, paid no heed to your graceful landing. You were on your feet in a quick motion. Butterflies fluttered their wings around you and you extended your arms for them to rest upon. A giggle left you as one plopped itself on your nose.

"What is this place?" You couldn't keep the wonder out of your voice.

"This is Fiddler's green. One of my proudest creations, I confess."

"I don't blame you." Your eyes raked past the waterfall and the pure greenery of the place.

A boy, just a child, hopped a few feet away from you.

"Why are we here?" You asked finally.

"To try our new approach."

"Dream you really have to start being elaborate."

"We need him to wake up. He has been here for a while."

"Wouldn't really hold it against him. Have you looked at this place?"

Dream looked at you. Of course he had. What kind of stupid rhetorical question was that to ask the person who had made the effing place.

"I mean it's beautiful."

He brushed past your compliment and said, "Hazel he has the sleepy sickness."

"Oh. But how am I supposed to get him to wake up?"

Nightmares weren't the only ones running wild. Dreams even as pleasant as the one you were currently in, were drifting from their original purpose to serve humankind. They used their beauty and kindness as an added advantage to lure humans into staying in a fragment of their mind forever. You'd known humans' resolve was fickle, being one of them. And provided with an opportunity to escape, no one would ever turn it down. Even the strongest wills would shatter with the passage of time. And that was why you listened intently to what Morpheus had to say.

"Invoke trust in the Fiddler's green as you did with others. Without hope, their sense of their purpose is growing corrupt. They are feeding on humanity's innate desire to run away from reality. Your trust has to fill in the void left by the absence of hope."

"What if I can't?"

"You don't have a choice."

"Dream but I- what if I am not the person for this? This was Hope's job. It was never meant to be mine."

"Will you tell his parents that they can stop visiting his bed every second of the day, quell their prayers, and say goodbye to their son because you were afraid to try?"

Brutal. But the impact was necessary. "No."

"Then the fate of the world is in your hands mortal."

No pressure then.

"Oi where are you going?" You asked Dream's retreating figure.

"This is your fight Hazel. I will see you when he wakes up."

"If you think you can just leave me here- " He definitely thought so because you were standing alone on the grassy landscape, except the jovial boy chasing butterflies.

You looked at him, airy giggles erupted from his throat. You sat down, feeling the grass beneath your palms. And closed your eyes until the beating of your heart was all you were aware of.

The dream collapsed as back in the waking world, the boy began to stir, accompanied by exuberant cries of his parents. You found yourself back on the docks, completely drenched. Beads of water dripped down from the hair sticking to your face.

"You look pathetic."

You swirled around to face the Endless who had spoken those words.

"A thankyou, you did remarkably well. Yoo hoo you are saving the world and I am indebted to you. And I apologise from the bottom of my heart which I am not even sure if I possess one, for abandoning you back there, would be nice but you know whatever," you rambled. "Wouldn't want to disrupt this whole emo vibe you have going on," you vaguely gestured to his hair and robes.

Your sour mood immediately dissolved as a smile graced his lips, his perfect cherry lips, you didn't deny it this time. An actual smile, fleeting but it was there. As real as the wind blowing through his hair, bestowing an air of ethereality upon him. A god, an Endless, who had just smiled at you.

"It's time for you to wake up mortal. The sun has already risen in your land. We have a lengthy path to walk, Fiddler's green was just one on it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're one massive buzzkill?"

You didn't think so with the authority he owned and his general 'you dare say anything to me?' demeanour but the reminiscent twinkle in his eye made you doubt otherwise.

"Goodnight Hazel."

You were lying in your bed since you had woken up, which was seconds or minutes ago, brooding over stuff, enjoying the quiet laziness before one of the guys would barge into your room and drag you out of bed. They were late today. The faint ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room when a sudden scream interrupted the monotonous ticking followed by a loud thud. You dashed through your room to the living room where an unconscious Jesse was slumped on the carpet. Charles and Edwin were both lying on the floor next to a book on incantation and Charles' pandora's box, as you liked to call his bag of tricks.

"Oh you are alive," Charles addresses you.

"What the fuck happened?"

"The demon happened," Edwin exhaled in a breath.

"Don't worry we had it contained, like forever." Charles jiggled an opaque jar in his hands. "No thanks to you," he quipped.

"I-" You were dumbfounded. "You could have woken me up."

"Oh we tried mate, but you were sleeping 'like a log' won't do it justice. We thought you were dead for a moment."

"Or worse, that you had the sleepy sickness. But before we could assess that for certain, Charles had to pee and then Jesse got possessed so we kind of had our hands full."

It was because I was in someone else's dream you gits. But it isn't like you could explain that to them. And you did have a history of sleeping like someone who had just been introduced to the concept, so you let it pass.

"But we are obviously super relieved to see you fit and aces."

"I can see that. Charles you chose pee over me!" You cried.

"Mate it was nothing personal. It was really urgent."

Okay that was the last straw. Your hands were around his neck in a second, your knees pinning him down as he tried to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Careful with the jar, you two." Edwin said flatly, unconcerned if you would strangle the ghost.

What would happen if you did? Could ghosts die again? A part of you wanted to find out badly, but a sympathetic loser part of you took pity on his reddening face and let go. You fell down on the space next to him, both of you heaving air into your lungs.

"I hate you," Charles huffed, his earring still dangling from the aftermath of your force.

You patted his shoulder. "Don't fret it son. I hate you more."

You were headed back to the agency with arms full from your grocery trip. A yapping Charles trailed on in front of you. Jesse had moved out, to your ghost friend's dismal and ranting about it was his way of dealing with it, unfortunately.

"And she said Edwin-that Edwin had a better fashion sense than me! Can you believe it?"

"I can."

He stopped and you took the lead. "What?" He blinked.

"Come on Charles you can't be serious. His taste is impeccable. I would have stolen his wardrobe a long time ago if he wasn't a ghost."

Passers by gave you judgmental glances, but you were used to it.

He caught up to you. "Hazel, this." He gestured to his baggy jacket. "And this." He flicked his earring.

"Yes even after this and this."

"I can't believe girls sometimes, scratch that, all the times." He fastened his pace, muttering to himself.

You brought your wrist to your hand to see the time when you got knocked off balance as someone bumped against you. Your groceries spilled out of the paper bag onto the road.

"Oh I am so sorry," a stranger's voice apologised.

You both were on your knees, gathering your escaped items.

"No it's okay my fault. I wasn't lookin-" You looked up and golden eyes met you. Wow. That was one rare iris.

"Oh shush now darling. Mistakes happen," they cooed.

You both scrambled to your feet as they handed you your bag. "Thankyou."

"You're welcome Hazel."

"How do you know my name?"

"Oh I overheard you and the boy talking," they said with an unnerving smile.

They could see him? Well quite a many people could, guaranteed that they'd had a similar bump in with death, not the Endless. You watched Charles distant profile walk on far ahead still seemingly mumbling to himself. You turned your head back to ask them if they had been in a near death incident, but they were already gone. Weird.

"Haz are you coming?" Charles shouted, realising you weren't with him.

You forsake the encounter with the golden eyed person and made your way towards your impatient friend.

Cool water lapped around your ankles where you had dipped your feet in them. The past week you'd fallen into a routine, a tedious and rewarding one, as you helped more and more people get rid of their eternal sleep. You had learned to manoeuvre the waters on your own, invading people's dreams while Dream devoted his time in mending his realm. Some days he'd join you after your daily targets and you'd both sit together, relishing each other's company. Today was one such day.

"When do we begin with the nightmares?" You had only focused on the sweet dreams till yet. Dream was insistent on it, forbidding you from trespassing through any others.

"Not yet," he said.

"Don't you ever get tired?" You asked after some time.

"Of what Hazel?"

"Of being immortal."

He raised his eyebrows at you, "Would you?"

"Fuck no!" You bit your lip. "Sorry. I mean knowing your time is always running out, does generate a new appreciation for life. But that life seems to be gone in a blink of an eye. Too brief, to leave a mark, to have your existence mean something. Time becomes the most precious and most despised instrument at play," you spoke. "But being immortal, it's-it's something else. Imagine the wonders you could witness, could be a part of. An eternity of just living, carrying the past of the world with you into the future. I like having a particular destination to swim to, but I would rather be lost in the infinite ocean, you know?"

Dream listened to your words intently. "I have a friend back in the waking world. Hob Gadling."

"I didn't strike you as that."

"As what?"

"As someone having friends. But go on."

"We met in the fourteenth century. Death and I visited this pub together and there he was, proclaiming humans could cheat death."

"What did you do?"

"Death granted him his wish."

"What?" What? "So does that mean he is still alive?"

"Yes. In fact we meet up every century."

"Hold up hold up. The devil meeting with an immortal man in the pub, that has nothing to do with this right?"

Dream's lips twitched imperceptibly.

"Will you ever cease surprising me?"

Quiet ensued you both.

"So this Hob Gadling, does he enjoy his immortality?"

"To my initial surprise, yes. I had thought after a hundred years, he would surely be begging me to take the curse back but he seemed to consider it a boon. Even after centuries had gone by, his zest to live never died, hasn't died. He reminds me of you. Or, you remind me of him."

"Oh careful Dream lord, are you implying I am your friend?" You nudged his shoulder lightly.

"Now let's not get too ahead of ourselves."

You let out a half suppressed laugh.

"Perhaps," he said.

You titled your head towards him, "Eh. I don't think I'm ready to promote you from acquaintance just yet."

"Is that how it is?"

"Absolutely."

A shooting star dived through the sky, cutting a blaze of fire through it.

"What do you wish for Dream?"

He glanced at you.

"Come on. It appears every day without fail, in the abode of your creations. You made it. What do you wish for everyday?"

He was silent.

"And here I thought we were friends."

"I created it in memory of Hope."

That was the first time he had willingly mentioned her.

"Do you miss her?"

He took his time to answer. "Sometimes."

You drew your feet out of the water and hugged your knees. "Well. Tragedy does birth-"

"The most beautiful things."

You looked at him to find his eyes already on you, a quiet yearning displayed in them.

"Ok mind reader," you scoffed.

"I do not posses those powers, unfortunately."

"Oh a creep then?"

When you looked at him again, his lips imitated the crescent moon in the sky on his perfect face. It wasn't like any of the fleeting twitches, no matter how treasured, he had given you before. The smile reached his cheeks. His teeth glittered under the moonlight, his skin washed in it. A weak crinkle formed at the end of his eyes. Your heart lurched in its rib cage, wanting to join another. No. You won't fall for him. You won't fall for an Endless. You won't fall for the pompous goth guy. You won't fall for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You were not falling for him. Shit. You were falling for him.

SERIES MASTERLIST

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

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Dressing Room Tears

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

rating: M (body image issues, weight gain, classic dressing room meltdowns, frankie being an angel, mild nudity i guess)

word count: <800

a/n: starting the year off with an entirely self-indulgent lil oneshot because I! feel! insecure! and wish that i had a frankie to gently remind me i’m hot piece of ass regardless of my weight! also, unedited, unbeta’d, un-everything 🫶🏼

frankie masterlist | frankie playlist

The mirror had never been your truest friend, your reflection controlling most of your teen years whether you realized it or not. The girl you saw never seemed to quite match the image of yourself you had created in your head—her stomach was a bit bigger, her hair frizzier, her hips carrying dips that you didn’t realize you had.

Now that you were older, it became a bit easier to take the occasional harshness of your reflection, but you’d be lying if you said there weren’t days when you’d much rather shatter the glass into a million little pieces rather than look at yourself.

Today was one of those days.

To start the new year, you and your dream of a man, Frankie, had decided it would be a nice treat for yourselves to go out and revamp your wardrobes, his clothes all covered in grease or littered with holes to prove how well-loved they were, while yours simply just felt too…suffocating.

You’d gained weight since January of last year—happy weight, Frankie called it—and though you’d never been anywhere near thin, you still struggled to accept the extra twenty or so pounds you’d gained this year.

Standing in the dressing room of an H&M, you fought back tears as you tried on your third pair of jeans—the largest size they seemed to carry in stock was a size 10 while you were at minimum a size 12 these days. You felt like an insecure teenager again, sucking in until you were out of breath in hopes of just getting the zipper to close.

“You good in there, baby?” Frankie asked from the other side of the curtain, apparently finished with trying his own clothes on. You swallowed thickly, fanning your eyes in hopes that it would prevent your tears from falling, but it was no use.

“Can you come in,” you croaked with a sadness-strained voice. Frankie was quick to slip into the dressing room, closing the curtain shut behind him as he gave you a concerned but soft look. An exhausted sob left your lips as you gestured at the jeans that weren’t anywhere near buttoning and then at the pile of other too-tiny jeans on the bench. “I’m too fat.”

“What? Baby,” he sighed and wrapped his arms around you, cradling your face as it buried in his neck. “You are not the problem here, your body is not the problem. You just need a bigger size, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Apparently there is because every single store we’ve been to today doesn’t sell my size,” you complained in a tearful whine, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“Once again, that’s these fucking fatphobic stores’ fault, not yours.” He pressed his lips against your temple and kept them there as he held you until the ache in your chest began to fade. “Come on, why don’t we leave this shithole and go get some food in your belly. You haven’t eaten today.”

“Thought I was being sly,” you joked as you pulled away to peel off the jeans that brought on this whole episode.

“Baby, look at me,” Frankie gentle gripped your chin and stopped your frantic changing, taking the time to admire your lower half in just a pair of modest cotton underwear, his hands lowering to traverse the curves of your body that he’d long laid claim to. “You are the most beautiful fucking woman in the world. Not just because of the soul you carry inside, or your mind, or your heart, but also because you’re fucking sexy. Just how you are.”

“You’re just—“

“Don’t you dare,” he warned with a smile. “I’m not saying this for the hell of it, baby. I mean it. You’re a fucking smoke show. Don’t let these clothing stores fool you into thinking you’re too anything.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you beamed, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“I ask myself that very question everyday,” he replied. “I have no idea what good deed I’ve done that’s earned me you, but I’m sure glad I did it.”

Frankie placed a chaste kiss on your lips and smiled against you.

“Sushi or pasta?”

You joined him in grinning. “Sushi now, pasta later?”

“I like the way you think, baby.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #frankie morales angst #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales oneshot #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales

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camelliagwerm · 1 year

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The most indulgent and lewd nonsexual intimacy of all: ♕: Holding hands (Leonelle and Jaethal)

thank you! AO3 version here.

The crisp autumn breeze ruffles Leonelle’s curls as she watches the parties prepare to leave the lodge for the royal hunting grounds just due north. The Embeth travellers; a party from Pitax; a delegation from House Surtova among them, but her eyes remain fixed on her remaining companions – Regongar and Octavia already mounted on their horses, Octavia’s hand tracing the strings of her longbow and counting the arrows in her quiver as Regongar takes a long draught from a flask. The third among their party is Jaethal, sheathing her hunting knife onto her hip and adjusting the saddle to her preference.

Stepping over crushed leaves, gingerly holding a fistful of skirts so the hem of her gown does not get dirtied from the well-worn trail leading from the lodge to the hunting grounds, Leonelle approaches. She watches the pair set down the trail already, apparently eager to catch up with the other guests. Regongar had, after all, boasted that he intended to show the Surtova how hunting in the Stolen Lands is done.

Her clandestine lover looks the very image of death itself, from the wicked curve of her scythe, to the ghostly pale skin against black leather. Even now, it sometimes unnerves Leonelle at just how close much of Jaethal had been in Nortellara's looks, with the only thing betraying the body's new…host being the slight crinkle around her eyes, the passive expression of disdain that Jaethal had often wore while in her own body.

“Majesty,” she says, dipping her head briefly in deference, before casting her eyes over Leonelle’s attire. No riding habit, instead one more appropriate for court: a crimson velvet gown to ward against the early Lamashan chill with a lace fichu covering the low neckline. “You won’t be joining us for the hunt?”

“Ah, I promised my sisters I would introduce them to the new puppies today," Leonelle begins. A half-truth: Umbria is still too young, but ever since Portia learned that her prize hound had had a litter, her younger sister had been insistent, no doubt angling for one of her own. "Besides, I fear I would find riding too uncomfortable today. Last night was rather... vigorous."

She can feel the heat flushing to her cheeks as a cold, smug smile slowly curves Jaethal’s lips upwards, her black eyes sparkling with amusement. “And I am sure you do not regret it one whit.”

"Not in the slightest."

As she watches Jaethal finish adjusting the saddle, a nagging panic settles in her belly. Possessed by that encroaching panic, Leonelle reaches out to touch her wrist, where a peek of pale flesh flashes between the sleeve of her hunting leathers and the riding gloves. “Be careful, Jaethal. I would not wish to see you end up the same way the first time you died.”

She expects the older woman to brush her hand away, yet she permits it to linger. Leonelle notices how her posture tenses, watches the elf briefly fall back into a hazy memory of her death, of the boar that had been slaughtered under the branches of the Old Scyamore in a similar fashion. Her thumb brushes over the soft skin, where there is a faint hint of a pulse – still such a curious thing to feel under Jaethal’s skin, even after the nights they’ve spent together, the fast pace betraying her cool demeanour.

It's only then that Jaethal pries her hand from her wrist, and embarrassed, Leonelle steps away. In a fluid motion, Jaethal mounts the large horse assigned to her from the stables, and she feels so very small next to her now.

“You needn’t worry, your Majesty,” Jaethal proclaims, reining her horse in as it stamps the ground impatiently, air blowing from its nostrils. Her voice is loud, confident, not caring if any of the remaining servants at the lodge or in the grounds may overhear. “It’d be rather pitiful for me to lose my life so soon after acquiring this body. The goddess will not let me fall because of a mere hunt.”

#silversiren1101 #answered #oc: leonelle #pair: leonelle x jaethal #*writing #there was gonna be more to this but i need to go to BED

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celestialsister0918 · 2 years

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When Snape Becomes a Dad...

In honor of Father's Day, I'm posting my latest addition to "One Shots and Outtakes from Wizarding World Romance"... the one where Severus Snape becomes a dad! Enjoy this little fluff-shot as you celebrate today.

(Only TW is childbirth.)

Outtake, Post-War: November 17th, 1998 Fluff-shot, no warnings! Except extreme sweetness as Severus Snape becomes a dad.

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Rhiannon paced up and down the aisles separating the long tables in her classroom as her students scrawled their essays. Today's assignment was a bit of a term recap, even though it was only the third week of November and winter holidays were still a month away. She knew her little bean would be making an appearance any day now, and she wanted a chance to review her students' assessment of the three most useful household spells they'd learned that term and why. She'd encouraged them to consider applications outside of the household setting as well, since the events of these past couple years had proved that thinking outside the box was quite necessary.

Rhiannon smiled as she passed by Hermione, Ginny and Luna's desk, a calm sense of relief filling her heart to see them safe and working on something so mundane. Hermione had chosen to return to complete her missed seventh year, even though Harry and Ron decided to move on. The three girls met Rhiannon's gaze and gave her small smiles, which warmed her heart. It wasn't too long ago they'd regarded her with disdain, but Ginny's frequent visits to the seaside house with Harry over the summer had done a good deal to solidify both Rhiannon and Severus's place within the family. It was all finally as it should be; the days of the Snapes playing double agent were finally, blessedly, over.

Rhiannon returned to her desk and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as she nibbled at a pastry she'd swiped from breakfast in the Great Hall. Her stomach was full-on rumbling with hunger today. Apparently the baby was trying to maximize her last few days in residence. Rhiannon kept thinking 'her'— of course she didn't know for sure, but the energy readings told her as much. They'd been right regarding Delphi when Bellatrix was pregnant earlier that year, so Rhiannon assumed they'd be correct again. She was rather skilled at detecting such things. Her readings on Colleen were a bit muddy, since Mrs. Black was carrying a litter. Well, metaphorically speaking. It was actually twins, according to Sirius's cosmic connection with Remus beyond the veil, but "litter" was more fun to say.

"Essays in, class!" Rhiannon called, straightening back up from her secret snack. She felt a bit lightheaded as she did so. She smiled and watched as parchment after parchment was stacked upon her desk, the leaves of ivory fluttering into swishes of black robes adorned with the rainbow of house scarves. It created a swirl of texture and color that played with Rhiannon's senses in a discombobulating way... could you taste color? Hear the texture of fabric and parchment? She suddenly felt queasy, and her stomach began to cramp.

"Professor Snape?" Ginny asked cautiously. "Are you all right?"

"Her baby is coming," Luna said serenely. "Perhaps we should fetch Madame Pomfrey?"

Hermione took off to the hospital wing without hesitation, and Ginny came around the back of the desk to stroke Rhiannon's hair, offering a cooling spell once she felt the sweat that beaded on her professor's forehead.

"Ginny, can you send a Patronus to the house?" Rhiannon gasped. "I need Severus here. Quickly. Make sure Colleen or Sirius has Delphi before he leaves."

"Of course," the redhead nodded. From her wand leapt a graceful horse, and Rhiannon smiled. She'd forgotten they shared a similar Patronus. Rhiannon's horse was larger, more feisty, and had the rare ability to shift color with her mood. Ginny's was frosty white, regal, and poised as it took off westwardly through the classroom window and over the moor.

"Is it time, my dear?" Poppy scurried into the Practical Magic classroom, the white tails of her kerchief trailing behind her in the breeze created by her haste. Rhiannon clutched her lower belly and nodded, her clammy body threatening to fall from her desk chair at the pain tightening in her abdomen.

"Oh, someone fetch Severus," Poppy commanded. "I believe there won't be much time. Rhiannon, dear, did you not feel any signs this morning? Why were you still teaching your class?"

"It just felt like monthly cramps," Rhiannon apologized with a shrug. She watched as Poppy transfigured the rolling cart Rhiannon used for cooking demonstrations into a suitable method of transportation. Hermione and Luna helped Rhiannon take a seat, and the three girls hurried to follow behind as Madame Pomfrey whisked their professor away to the hospital wing.

"Well, what were you expecting, dear?"

"I don't know... something more dramatic?"

Poppy gave a small laugh. "If we administer the potions early on, we can hope the gods will spare us the dramatic. Now into bed! Miss Granger, please assist the professor with her gown while I procure the potions."

"And what potions would those be?" a stern voice demanded. Obsidian eyes scanned Rhiannon head to toe as Hermione's wand removed her teaching robe and sent it flying into an adjacent wardrobe. Rhiannon looked down at her own belly, swollen and taut beneath the thick white lace of her maternity bra. She noticed Ginny's eyes widen at the sight.

"Now, Severus, this wouldn't be you questioning my expertise, now would it?" Poppy admonished.

"Severus! How in Merlin's name did you get here so fast?" Rhiannon exclaimed. Luna helped her settle against some extra pillows she had procured from unoccupied beds. Luckily the beds reserved for childbirth at Hogwarts were somewhat isolated from the remainder of the wing, and few students were there at the moment anyway. Peacetime had its advantages.

"I was already making my way down from the house when Miss Weasley's Patronus arrived," Severus informed her, stepping cautiously to her bedside. He took her chin in his hand and surveyed her critically as if she were an experimental brew he needed to evaluate. "I could feel something was different."

Rhiannon laid her head back with a relaxed smile, glad to know their bond could work across such an expanse, when the matter at hand was important. Satisfied with his appraisal of her, the firm hand at her chin relaxed a little and drifted to her cheek, his fingertips running along her bone structure as his eyes searched hers.

"You look beautiful," he murmured quietly, his gaze darting uncertainly to their young spectators. The three girls all watched with almost dreamy smiles, and Severus cleared his throat with annoyance.

"While I'm grateful for your assistance with my wife, I believe it is no longer needed," he told the young witches as politely as he could manage.

Ginny looked relieved, and Luna made a move to slip away obediently. Hermione, however, gave her former professor a frown.

"Professor, I would like to observe. The magical art of childbirth is covered in Practical Magic, yet our experience of it is merely textbook and hardly practical."

"Miss Granger, as a seventh year, I would assume one of your friends might find herself in a similar predicament soon enough, and you may use that as an opportunity to witness and study. My wife, however, is not a classroom experiment. Please return to class."

The girl obeyed with a sigh, and Rhiannon gave her a sympathetic smile before she and her friends retreated. Severus swept over to where Poppy was preparing instruments and bottles, though his "sweeping" these days wasn't all that theatrical now that he'd retired his trademark billowing robes in favor of more frequent Muggle clothing.

"I do not want that potion used-- use the one with the gelsemium. And have an elf go to Honeydukes and fetch honey quills immediately."

"Honey quills?" Rhiannon said with a laugh. "What am I, twelve?"

Severus looked at her beneath stern raven brows. "The quill will deliver honey in a safe amount to help you maintain your energy without interfering with the birth. I know your appetite and am well aware that you'll be whining and begging for food within an hour."

Rhiannon smiled and held her arms out to him, and he clasped her hands, allowing her to pull him close. "I love you, Severus Snape. You're going to be the most amazing father in wizarding history, you know that?"

"No pressure," he grunted.

Rhiannon's hand drifted into his black tresses, slightly tousled from his apparition in the windy November chill. Severus always took a few moments to adjust his meticulous appearance once he landed in his destination, but clearly he'd found other things to be higher priority today. She pulled his head to hers, her mind registering the outline of his sturdy mouth before they crashed together. A brief memory filled her of encountering him at Grimmauld Place over three years ago, him pinning her to the wall and that imposing mouth looming over her and filling her mind with a desire that turned all other thoughts to mush. As he kissed her now, her mind evaporated into a delightful buzz that hummed atop the ever-tightening pain taking over her lower insides. She felt the life within her alert them to her presence with a gentle thump, and Rhiannon could tell the baby was in perfect position.

"Alright, Professors, I regret interrupting such a loving display, especially when I believe it's the only one I've ever witnessed from Severus Snape. But the window of opportunity for comfort potions is rapidly closing." Madame Pomfrey hovered over Rhiannon, bottles in hand. Severus barely moved, holding Rhiannon's hand securely in both of his as the mediwitch lifted the amber glass bottles to her lips. The magical liquids took affect in no time, making what was sharp now dull, what was once uncomfortable now merely an alert to prod her body's natural rhythms along.

The next few hours passed with a house elf delivering the candied sustenance her wizard had suggested, and Headmistress McGonagall popping in to say hello. Word of such a special occasion had already spread quickly throughout Hogwarts, and Poppy frequently had to rush to the door to shoo away the crowds of curious students that were gathering. Severus remained in his rigid kneel until Minerva finally insisted he take a seat, shoving a chair beneath his arse until he had no choice but to accept. Rhiannon's pain had escalated considerably by that point, but she still managed to laugh at the Headmistress's haughty insistence and Severus's obstinance. She could tell Severus had resolved to suffer his own brand of discomfort in honor of his wife's.

"You're no good to her, Severus Snape, if your joints are immovable from sanctimonious self-induced penance," McGonagall chastised him. "Now sit. I daresay with a newborn you will have plenty of opportunity to suffer discomfort over the next few weeks."

Rhiannon shook her head and massaged her swollen belly with a laugh. "No suffering," she corrected. "Charity is going to be a little angel. I can tell already."

The older witches exchanged a glance. "Charity?" Minerva inquired.

Another contraction hit at this point, and it was tenacious. Poppy grasped her other hand and coached her through it, her wand hovering above Rhiannon's stomach as some kind of gauge for time, intensity, or both.

"Yes, for Burbage," Severus confirmed. "It was important to Rhiannon. To help honor the memory of a life her father stole."

"And...her middle...name...will be for my mother," Rhiannon breathed. "Another life he stole, in a way." She heard the dripping of water as Severus soaked a handkerchief in herb-infused water and ran it along her face.

"He didn't steal it— in fact it was one of the few honorable things he ever did," Severus corrected. "He gave her you."

Rhiannon noted the amusement on Minerva's lips at such a tender sentiment coming from her cantankerous ex co-worker.

"We're very close, Mum and Dad," Poppy announced, the tip of her wand glowing with a silvery gossamer pink. "I've heard rumors that you seem to be favored in some otherworldly realm, my dear; I believe it may be true. I've never witnessed a labor so uncomplicated."

"Silence, Poppy!" Severus snapped. "You dare to tempt the Fates like that with my wife's well-being?"

"Severus, I have lived long enough to know a difficult birth from an easy one," the mediwitch retorted. She lifted the thin blanket covering Rhiannon's midsection and pushed the young woman's gown up in preparation for delivery. "Now, Rhiannon, love, you will push when you feel the next tightening coming on. Do not over exert yourself— one good push should start the little lass on her way."

Rhiannon took a deep breath, tears tickling the corners of her eyes. Her heart felt a beautifully twisted pang at the thought that she would be a mother herself in mere minutes. She would know the love her own mother had felt, every monumental and complex emotion, but calmed and tempered with the steadfast, passionate love of her husband there by her side. Severus's face was pale, his eyes dark and hooded beneath his lashes. His stomach heaved up and down a bit within dark green cashmere, a charcoal colored scarf still tied around his neck. Rhiannon reached for the yarn tassels, toying with them a bit before giving the scarf a gentle tug.

"You seem a bit warm, Severus," she said softly. He nodded, his stare blank as he allowed her to remove the superfluous garment and toss it to the foot of the bed. Her hand returned to his neck, her thumb tracing his chin lovingly before the next wave began to swell in her abdomen.

"Oh, Merlin!" Rhiannon winced. Pressure. So much pressure... it was like the gravitational pull of the earth was concentrated within her center. Her muscles gave into Poppy's commands involuntarily, and she let out a scream, her hand still on her husband's neck. Her nails seared into the flesh beneath the hairline on his neck, but Severus didn't seem to mind in the least, steeling his own hand around her forearm to hold it in place. A round bulge in his jaw twitched, and Rhiannon knew his Legilimens mind was tapping into her pain with every shred of his power so he could experience it in his own right.

Rhiannon felt the oddest sensation of angles and pops as their daughter was born, the magical potion somehow simultaneously enhancing her sensation while making her pain tolerable. Severus suddenly clamored with Poppy in a tangle of arms to catch the newborn princess, the latter finally fending him off with a razor sharp look. Rhiannon watched the witch assess their tiny prize, each second agonizing while the new mother waited for some confirmation that all was well. Finally the older woman smirked and laid the messy, dark-haired beauty atop Rhiannon's breast, and Rhiannon's hand finally released Severus's neck to trail to the wrinkled, befuddled face of Charity Epona Snape acclimating to the world.

"Oh, Severus!" Rhiannon cried. "She's perfect! Look at her fingers? Have you ever seen anything like them? She's just delicate, like a pink rose petal. And she has your hair... feel it! It's so soft..."

Severus's hand was shaking as he lifted it from his lap and grasped at their baby's head. She was so tiny and his hand so large that it seemed to cover over half her body. He didn't smile, nor did he speak. His eyes bore into her, and Rhiannon looked to him inquisitively for a moment before remembering she could see his thoughts with a simple lowering of a shield. She shuddered when she was met with a shadowy image of her father, his red eyes being the only true distinguishing feature in a memory that was otherwise fuzzy. The vantage point of the memory was low, like one was kneeling. She heard Severus's deep, resonant voice — familiar but younger, and less sure.

"I do, my Lord."

"I will, my Lord."

In his field of vision crept the smooth, pale skin of a youthful forearm, and with a harsh jet of light a tattoo appeared, binding Severus to the Dark Lord for every moment they both would take a breath.

Why now? Rhiannon wondered. When he's staring at this innocent, perfect beauty?

But she knew. It was a binding ceremony, much like the birth of a tiny soul that shared both his blood and the Dark Lord's.

Rhiannon curled her left hand around her daughter, feeling her wet cheek scatter little dots across her bare chest as the baby searched for her first suckle. Her other hand secured around Severus's left arm, her palm squarely on the spot where the faint scar still lay.

"She's mine, Severus. Not his. Mine and yours. She's blameless, unblemished. And she will be loved like no little girl has been loved before."

His hand on Charity's back pressed down, and he nodded. He leaned in and kissed Rhiannon's lips softly.

"Speaking of," he murmured, "I should send a Patronus to the house. Let the Blacks know."

Rhiannon laughed. "Yes. How excited is Sirius right now, on a scale of one to ten?"

"I'm sure he's panting with expectation," Severus said drolly, reaching beneath his pant leg to retrieve his wand from its holster. He'd taken to wearing one like Sirius did now that they were in the Muggle world more often. "Considering the intimate proximity of his presence during conception, I'm certain he's also huffing and puffing like a bloody wolf with the notion that he's entitled to be here. I do hope Colleen was able to keep him contained."

Rhiannon laughed again, guiding Charity in place for her feather-like nips to her breast.

"Doing all right, dear?" Madame Pomfrey asked brightly as she prepared a basin of water with enhancements for a proper first bath.

"Yes, Poppy. Thank you for— " Rhiannon froze, her mouth falling open, green eyes wide as she focused on a dainty flicker of light fluttering around the room. She'd never seen it before— not like this. But she had seen it. It was the coquettish sashay of Slytherin, one of the three magical birds that had come to her upon her arrival in England over three years ago. One had died to save Sirius from the veil; the other two had perished in an act of war at the hand of her father's minions just before the Battle of Hogwarts. But now Slytherin lived on, immortalized as a crystal blue wisp emanating from Severus's ebony wand. He fluttered out of the window and took off just as Ginny's horse had earlier, dancing into the sunset over the autumn leaves.

"It changed?" Rhiannon's voice was a croak, warm tears streaming down her face. She blamed the surge of hormones that must be gearing her body up for afterbirth.

"Yes," Severus answered softly. He bent to place a kiss upon Charity's sweet little head. "It changed."

For more context surrounding this latest installment, be sure to read my longer work, "Soon All The Suns Will Rise," if you haven't already! It runs parallel to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and documents the war alliance between Severus and Sirius, and their creation of a family with their wives. (Work is Rated E)

It's part of my series "Wizarding World Romance," which takes you on a journey through Sirius and Severus's love triangle with Rhiannon, Sirius falling in love with Colleen in Muggle world, and the final installment detailing their coming together as foursome. Happy reading! Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot. (Links below Rated E- please read tags.)

#severus snape lives #severus x oc #severus snape x oc #snape x oc #fluff #severus snape fluff #father's day #severus snape fanfiction #snape fanfiction #daddy snape #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #childbirth #poly relationship #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #patronus #alan rickman #sirius black lives

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bitletsanddrabbles · 1 year

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Modern AMEW

Not today, writer's block! I'mma write a THING even if it is stupid and short and just exists to say I wrote a THING!

"Mama, I can't find the kittens," George pouted, looking under the sofa.

Mary sighed. Sybbie had wanted a kitten, so for her birthday Tom had taken her to see Mr. Mason whose cat had just had a litter. Of course George and Marigold had come along and by the time the birthday girl had selected her new pet, the others had fallen in love with two of it's litter mates. Fortunately Marigold's kitten went with her back to Brancaster, but given that it was a litter of four, none of the children could abide the idea of the last kitten being left all alone, so it had been taken for Caroline, even though she was too young to care. It had all gone well enough, so far, but George was having problems with the notion that kittens, unlike toys, could move and therefore wouldn't always be there when you wanted them. "They've probably fallen asleep somewhere, Georgie, and you should let them be. Kittens need to play, but they also need a lot of sleep."

The boy sighed, but obediently stood and nodded. At least he was old enough to understand things the first time he was told.

Mary smiled and ruffled his hair. "I'm sure they'll turn up. Why don't you see if your father has time to play a bit of cricket? He normally has a bit of free time about now. And speaking of finding things, I need to find Thomas. We were going to do the roof inspection today."

"Alright, Mama!" Apparently concern for the missing kittens was easily overruled by the possibility of maybe hitting the ball this time. He was getting better at it. He started to run out of the room, then immediately checked himself to a fast walk, apparently remembering the rules about running in the house.

Mary watched him go with fond pride, then, checking her watch, went in search of her third butler. They'd agreed that three o'clock would be the best time for the inspection, so it was odd that Thomas wasn't already there. Although he had his faults (although he'd grown out of the worst of them, thankfully), he was normally Johnny on the spot when it came to punctuality. He wasn't in the office. Thinking that perhaps he'd gotten talking and lost track of time, she checked the staff break room, but he wasn't there. Andrew was there, though, so she asked him.

"Last I knew he was going to the library, m'lady," the young man replied. "There was something he wanted to look over for the event tomorrow."

'The event' was Edith giving a reading from her most recent book. It was being held at Downton rather than Brancaster because the book was set in Yorkshire...and, Mary was quite certain, because her sister wanted to drive her insane. Really, she wasn't always popping up to hold events at Edith's house! Still, that wasn't Andrew's problem. With a nod and a word of thanks, she turned and headed to the library.

As she walked through the door, Mary immediately spotted Thomas sitting on one of the sofas. "There you are. I've been wait-" she stopped, her notice moving beyond 'butler' and 'sofa' to take in the entirety of his situation. She sighed. "Oh. Oh dear."

Thomas gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry. I sat down." He grimaced. "In my defense, my shoe had come untied and I just meant to lace it up, but before I was done the grey one got me and...well."

"Yes, I see." Mary looked at the butler, firmly pinned in place by a small pile of fur in his lap. If you knew the colours you were looking for, you could pick out all three kittens - grey, black, and multi-coloured. They were clearly all asleep.

Thomas simply looked at her. She'd never seen the man look so helpless in her life.

After a moment of debate, she did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. Shaking her head, she sighed and looked at the mantle clock. "I suppose we can do the inspection a bit later. They're kittens, they can't sleep that long." She gave the butler a smile that was probably more confident than she felt.

"I'd think not," Thomas replied, although he didn't sound as certain.

"Right then, aim for four?"

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #stupid thing but i'm making rude gestures at my writer's block #modern au #thomas barrow #mary crawley #lady mary #george crawley #fluff #so much fluff #ALL THE FLUFF

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wispstalk · 1 year

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I'd love to know more about The Wizard Adderall

Thank you for asking because he is stealing the show in my mind lately. I wrote a piece introducing him that I think touches on What His Deal Is, but this is a very rough early draft and not a final product

Of all the things Gil expected to learn on his journey north, “how to walk” was not among them.

Abi, his traveling companion, has apparently mastered new heights in the art of getting from one place to another. Tall and sturdy and broad-backed, yet she moves through the woods without making a sound. The fox-walk, she calls it. And as they pick their careful way through the wild edges of Skyrim, she insists he do the same.

Outside the lush enclave of the Celecire estate, he is learning strange new depths to all sorts of basic things. Walking, but silent and hyper-aware. Eating, mechanically and often. She even lights their campfires with a flint and steel, which seems somehow more arcane than a spell. He tried it once and scraped his knuckles raw on the striker.

His companion can cast a spark from her fingers as well as he can, and heal a scrape or a bruise, but she said her parents were from Hammerfell, and taught her not to bank her survival on fickle magicks. Gil has not managed to wheedle much more from her. Abi is spare with her words and artful with her deflections, answering questions with questions. She seems content to give Gil an opportunity to discuss his favorite topic: himself.

“And so,” he concludes as they walk, “that’s when the beast awoke from its long slumber and finally flicked off the tick. I’ve enough in my purse for tuition and passage by ship to Winterhold, which I suppose was a small price to pay to be rid of their most feckless son.”

“Poor you,” she says, smiling catlike. “You mean to tell me you could have taken a ship? With a private cabin, no doubt.”

“Poor me,” he agrees. “Feckless I might be, but I know my arithmetic. If this is the last I’ll squeeze out of them, I thought it wise to go to Cyrodiil and cross on foot. I have two of them, after all, how hard can it be?”

Abi lets out a soft, good-natured chuckle; it’s the third time in a week he’s gotten a laugh out of his guide and he is inordinately pleased with himself. But then: “Speaking of feet, mind yours.”

“Ah…” He sighs and resumes his stilted fox-walk. “Well, I only thought… we’re making plenty of noise.”

“Practice now for the times when we shouldn’t.”

Gil winces. Yesterday, his bumbling loud footfalls had flushed out the ptarmigan in Abi’s sights. Fresh off the glacial wasteland of the Pale Pass, it would have been their first warm meal in days. She had calmly replaced the arrow in her quiver and led them on, and not an hour later she shot a rabbit.

She seemed pleasantly surprised, he recalls with grim satisfaction, when he proved himself perfectly capable of skinning and gutting it.

That aside, he is certain his corpse would litter the Pale Pass if he had not met her in that Bruma outfitter’s shop. Couldn’t even count on a daring death by misadventure; more likely he would fall under the weight of an overloaded pack and flail like an upturned beetle until the cold claimed him. Death comes for everyone, he knows, but he can still hope that his own won’t be too humiliating.

They stop at a fork in the road to drink deeply from their waterskins, and Abi crouches beneath the shade of a pine to examine her map. The side trail, she explains, ought to speed their progress down the mountain’s back, if Gil can bear a little bushwhacking.

She stands with her chin tilted, surveying the landscape, extracting meaning before Gil’s mind can parse it as more than a morass of dun and green. But there is a symmetry that draws the eye. Long, low hummocks line the path, like prostrate supplicants to the majestic boulder that looms ahead.

“Oh, they’re barrows!” Gil squints at the boulder, where some remnants of a carved arch can be seen beneath the beard of lichen. Maybe he can convince her to stop and take their midday meal here— he’d like to dig out his charcoal and parchment and take a rubbing.

Abi grimaces. “I hadn’t intended to lead us through a graveyard.”

Ah, he thinks, so much for stopping. “It’s an old land,” he assures her. “Everywhere we walk we are flanked by the dead.”

She blinks at that, but carries on. In the silence Gil hears his footfalls crunching in the pinestraw and adjusts. Heel to the ground, roll to the outside, carefully place the toes. It’s a good trick on her part: making him so absorbed in his footfalls he doesn’t notice how they accumulate.

After a time he is gliding along in a breezy and confident rhythm, sure he’ll be soon be walking Skyrim’s forests with a wolfish grace that rivals that of his guide, until he runs blindly into her outstretched arm.

She stands stock still, watching something in the dappled underbrush with sudden sharp alertness. One hand reaches smoothly back to draw an arrow from her quiver. Gil arrests the breath in his lungs, and his heart pounds in the hopes of a nice fat greasy bird for dinner.

Her unwavering gaze narrows, then widens. She whispers, “Gil, run.”

“No,” he says, half to himself, watching the frost troll burst from the underbrush with a hoot of rage, “no, I think I’d better not.”

Quick despite its odd loping gait, the troll bears down on them. It’s crossed half the distance by the time she nocks her arrow. Gil sets his jaw and taps his staff firmly to the ground.

Shadows waver through the veil all around him. Impressions of lives lived and lost. There is something resting in the bowels of this mountain that even he won’t trifle with, but plenty of garden-variety warrior sorts to choose from. The binding that he speaks is swallowed by a crash, a shower of dust and rock and sod, as the withered corpse bursts from the barrow.

At once, it hurls itself snarling at the troll. Abi wheels backward with a yelp, collides with Gil. He spares enough of his awareness to steady her with his free hand.

He was lucky to raise one buried with a sword. The thrall itself is fragile and dry as a paper wasp’s nest. The troll takes one of its arms out with one clean swipe. Gil bears down with his will, holding images in his mind of that rusty old sword restored to its former beauty, of glorious battle, of Sovngarde and other such Nordly things that might call upon the shade of its former life and inspire it to greater fury.

The thrall plunges its sword into the troll’s belly with a rattling cry. As the creature falls, it stands inert, waiting for its next command, staring out at nothing through empty sockets. Gil unfurls the white-knuckled hand around his staff and releases it back to its rest.

Silence. Abi is no longer clutching his arm. Her eyes, wide as saucers, track the corpse as it shambles to the destroyed barrow.

“You just.” She does not meet his eye. “You’re a.”

“It’s— well. I used to explore ruins in the Isles.” He twirls his hand in a gesture of weak apology. “And I’ve never liked fighting.”

“I see.” She straightens, adjusts the strap of her rucksack, and turns on her heel to continue down the path.

Gil’s heart sinks. He likes Abi. It cheered him to think he might have a friend to visit in Solitude, once she settles into her smithing work there. He’d hoped their meeting was a sign that he hadn’t done a very stupid thing in leaving; planned to make up for his ineptitude in Falkreath, where his gold will spend.

He got what he wanted, he thinks sourly: he finally made himself useful, and in doing so, lost his only friend in the province.

“I apologize,” he says, for what must be the hundredth blunder on this journey. “I might have warned you. It’s a rather… delicate…”

“I’m glad to be alive, Gil, and that’s that.” She pauses and allows him to catch up. “You are well-mannered, for a necromancer.”

He gives her a watery grin, and then deflates with a shiver. The chill of the grave presses close to him. It will for hours yet.

Speaking the bindings burns his throat like spiced metheglin and leaves the taste of decay on his tongue. This death opens with bitter notes of copper and cold, giving way to a soft finish that lingers on the palate. A burst of blood leaching into the snow and then a gentle, muffled descent into the dark.

He suppresses a gag and spits the foul flavor to the ground, scuffing it into the leaves with the toe of his boot.

“Eugh. Sorry.” He fishes into his coat for a handkerchief to dab his mouth.

Abi regards him with a dubious wrinkle to her nose. She turns her head and spits in answer; a projectile glob lands among the duff with a percussive splat.

A delighted grin splits Gil’s face. “Godsblood! That was magnificent. How can you spit so far?”

“One thing at a time,” she says, and turns back to the road. “Master your fox-walk, and next I’ll teach you proper spitting.”

#it works as a character introduction i think but not as an opening to the story #haven't quite laid enough groundwork to pull that off yet I don't think #asks #oc: adderall #excerpt

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venalos · 19 days

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@eterniityblooms

The outposts of the New World, Astera; Seliana; and the Third Fleet's giant airship, were positively buzzing with activity and excitement ever since their beloved Sapphire Star returned from the Old World. Every bit the celebrity here as she is back home, anyone would readily bet that her presence would draw in all sorts of good people from the three outposts. Hunters, Riders, researchers, technicians, the list went on. Somehow, someway, Safine always managed to take the time out of her busy schedule to be in the company of those looking to bask in her presence.

Safine marched powerfully through the snow-blanketed paths of Seliana, with grace and confidence more befitting an Elder Dragon than a human, a small entourage of fans of various occupations (all of whom apparently had nothing better to do) clamouring after her. It was quite the amusing scene, her being bombarded with all manner of questions and requests, as well as some who were on the brink of getting on their knees to beg her into going on hunts or research expeditions with them.

She answered the questions she could and politely turned down those who borderline begged her to accompany them. Others she ignored, pretending to not hear them over the commotion. It would seem that today was one of those rare days where she felt she was unable to afford the time to humour her many admirers.

As the group walked through the streets, past the houses and the steam pipes, Safine would randomly grab the next person she approached, a certain red-haired man, shifting him with her absurd strength to position him between herself and the followers. To said followers, however, it would look as though the two were just standing side-by-side, albeit with her hands gripping his shoulders.

"Everyone," she began, addressing the entourage in a sing-song tone, "I truly appreciate all of you, but him and I have soome important matters to discuss. I think it's best if we all went back to work, too, wouldn't you say~?"

Litterally all of them were unsurprisingly dejected, but they knew better than to try pushing their own luck and Safine's patience. Soon they would all scatter amidst a chorus of "okay's", "bye-bye's", and "see you later's". It was not until the last of them left did Safine visibly deflate with a prolonged, "Uuuurrrrgghhhhhhhh," knees buckling and her head lolling to press against the redhead's shoulder.

Safine had always been a people-person, but even she had her limits.

She whined, "Aidennnnnnnnn. I'm- You have no idea how good it is to run into you."

Poor thing.

#eterniityblooms #“Ride On!” | IN-CHARACTER #“Quest Start!” | ROLE-PLAY #Sapphire Star | SAFINE #Ace A-Lister | AIDEN #*intense vibrating* I am so normal about the idea of writing with canon MH characters. jnkhiudregjowkebh

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restwellsoon · 2 years

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Unholy Confessions

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary: When you first heard his voice in the confessional booth, you should have walked out then and there. But no, you kept going, week after week, to tease the handsome new priest, Father Todd. That was your second mistake. Your third mistake was tempting his faith, only to discover that Father Todd wasn’t a man of God but a devil in disguise.

/ “Guess you really weren’t listening to my sermons, were you? It’s a shame because maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. Your penance reminds you that God comes first and you come last. So where does that leave devils like me? I fall somewhere in-between.”

CW: dubcon, anal, brat taming, masturbation, temp play, degradation, double penetration, smut, incubus!Jason Todd, scumbag!Jason Todd, Catholicism including improper confessional conduct and blasphemy, language

You should have known better than to tempt a man of God, but it was only natural to realize your folly only when it was too late, hence the sweat that clung to your skin in this infernal wasteland and a different sort of wetness dripping between your thighs. When you said that you liked to play with fire, you didn’t mean like this. Looking at the man, -no, demon-, exhaustion was apparent on your face.

The creature only chuckled, letting out a plume of smoke from his mouth, his cigarette dangling between his fingers, “Tired already?” You didn’t have the energy to agree and he took note of that, a wry smile on his lips.

“Aw, that’s too bad.” The toe of his black Oxford nudged at you slightly, as if to make sure you weren’t dead. You followed the shoe up the leg of his fine suit, a stark contrast to your naked form. It looked immaculate despite everything the two of you had done. He looked down at you, his smile like the glimmer of the sun, making you wince. “We’re just getting started.”

He tossed aside the final end of his cigarette on the ground beside you. It was already littered with old butts and other filth. The room looked familiar with its cabinets and couch but you didn’t know why.

“Can’t tell if you’re fucked stupid or fucking stupid,” he crushed it with his heel. “Heh, well, whatever it is, works for me. I think I could use you for weeks, if you’re lucky.”

---

Church wasn’t on the mind of a city girl like you, the weekend being a succession of parties instead of prayer, the closest you ever got to it was when you were on your knees on the bathroom floor of some bar you forgot the name of.

Your grandmother -bless her heart- prayed for your salvation every night despite not knowing half of what you did, begging you to come to church every Sunday. The people were nice. The message was good. If anything, sweetie, you could always come for a plate of food.

You always refused, making up excuses ranging from work to living too far away to something stupid like the city marathon blocking off your whole neighborhood. But one morning your mother begged you to pick her up -“I thought I raised you better than that!” she responded when you tried to get out of it-, saying that you were the last person she could count on.

So you parked in front of the church doors and drummed idly on the wheel for a few minutes before checking the time, knowing damn well that you were running late and Grandma should have been out by now. You groaned when you called her, reaching her voicemail -which still wasn’t set up- instead. Killing the engine, you threw your keys in your pocket and set out to look for her. Something could have happened. You weren’t that heartless and self-serving.

Pushing through heavy wooden doors, you wandered into the building, stained glass leaving colored shadows on the floor and stone saints taking up residence in every corner. You followed the sound of murmuring deeper inside the building, uncertainty leading the way as you tried to recall where you were going. It’s been years since you’ve been here.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Grandma?” You called out hesitantly, watching both figures turn towards you slowly, their conversation at a sudden halt.

Your grandmother beamed, taking quick strides to meet you, and once there, her hands pulled you towards the stranger who stayed in place.

He was tall, handsome and in his late 20s, you guessed. He didn’t seem much older than you. His figure was dark, disappointingly dressed in black clergy garb. A leatherbound Bible hung in his hand.

Motioning towards him, she introduced you two. “This is Father Todd.”

“Jason,” he added, tucking the religious text in his arm so his hand was free to shake. It was large and warm, perfect for comforting any lost and weary soul. He gripped your hand with a firmness that asserted his confidence. A perverse part of you wondered what else those hands were capable of.

Giving him your name, he repeated it back to you with a charming smile, “Nice to meet you. Your grandmother talks of you often.”

At that, she laughed, heading towards the pews to get one last prayer in.

Now alone, you chuckled nervously, certain that if anything, she confided in Father Todd all of her worries about you and your lifestyle. You could hear it already: “Father Todd, I fear that my sweet grandchild cannot walk with God because she’s holding hands with Satan!”

“Your grandmother’s a very devout and God-fearing woman,” he said, “but she does mean well.”

You nodded, trying to get out of the awkward situation and heading towards the rows of benches in the main hall. The priest cut you off, the cross around his neck swinging with the movement.

“And I do agree with her. I think there’s no better way to spend your Sunday than on your knees.”

You looked at him dumbfounded as he gave you an innocent smile that told you he didn’t catch the phrasing of his offer.

“It would be really great if you could come.”

He truly and honestly wanted to save your soul. There was a sort of sweetness about him that you wanted to corrupt. You wouldn’t do anything too bad. You just wanted to have a little fun.

You gave him an honest answer so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. “I’ll think about it.”

---

It was early as shit and your head still pounded, no amount of medication able to get rid of your hangover. The only thing that kept you from falling asleep was your front row seat at church, your eyes hungrily following each movement of Father Todd’s muscles. The bass in his voice was like a lullaby, amplified by the microphone on the altar. You didn’t understand the random bits of Latin he spoke, but you knew it sounded sexy.

Internally sighing with relief, you queued in line behind your grandmother who was in a giddy mood now that her wicked grandchild had finally changed her ways. You tried to recall those long days after school where you headed to church after class so you could receive your First Communion. Was it the left hand over the right or the other way around?

You didn’t have time to figure it out, taking one step and realizing that you were standing in front of the priest. He smiled down at you, quietly saying, “I can see that you’re nervous. Fret not. We’ll do this in the manner of the traditional rite. Open your mouth and extend your tongue.”

Doing as you were told, he held the transformed wafer, proclaiming, “The Body of Christ,” then placed it on your tongue. You responded with an amen and a kneel, that cardboard taste melting on your tongue before you resumed your position next to your grandmother. It reminded you of itchy clothes and judgement.

---

“God, this is so fucked up,” you said out loud, continuing what you were doing despite that and blindly grabbing around your nightstand for your vibe.

Sure, you’ve done some questionably moral things but this had to take the cake. A priest? Seriously?

You couldn’t get the image out of your head though. Father Todd’s smooth voice giving you commands as he looked down at you, him giving you something on your waiting tongue. You pressed the button, mechanical humming filling your room as you thought of his dark lashes and large hands, his sweet blue eyes and those church boy vibes.

If you actually paid attention to the sermon or any of the lessons from Catholic school, you’d know that Father Todd was most likely a lesson in temptation. But just like then, you failed to take the doctrine to heart, stupidly believing that God wouldn’t damn one of his beloved children because of momentary pleasure.

---

“Confessional? What’s that?” You asked through a mouthful of food, your mother giving you a dirty look as the two of you sat around your grandmother’s kitchen table. The name sounded familiar.

“Manners, dear,” your grandmother reminded you before continuing. “It can be done any time, though it is scheduled on Tuesday and Thursday nights.”

You waved your fork around, elbows on the table, trying to decipher what that entailed from her vague answer. Your mom pulled your arm so your forearms rested on the edge.

“Will you stop that? I thought I raised you to be a proper girl. You confess your sins to a priest in private and they give you a penance to return to God’s grace. You should do it at least once a year if you commit serious sins,” she gave you a look at that part and a chill ran down your spine. Did she know what you’ve been up to since college? What you did last weekend?

Your grandmother took note of your suddenly solemn face. “Fear not, child. It’s not meant to be an act of punishment but rather a reconciliation with our Savior.”

She grabbed your hand, giving it a pat. “Besides, Father Todd’s a fair man.”

You took another bite of your food. “Huh.”

All you heard is that you could get private time with the priest and if you were lucky, he would punish you.

---

The first time you went, the nasally voice of some priest you didn’t recognize cut through the wooden privacy screen that divided you. Your plan failed. For the fake dispute between you and a co-worker, you were given two Hail Mary’s. The closest thing you knew to that was a Bloody Mary, and what you wouldn’t give for one of those…

Without shame, you nudged the older couple beside you. “I don’t know the Hail Mary, by heart” you whispered. “Where can I find it in this thing?”

Instead of annoyance, they kindly pointed you towards the correct page. You almost felt bad for disturbing them. Almost. Once you were on your knees, you went back to scheming.

After two more confessionals with priests that weren’t him, you couldn’t even hide the delight in your voice as you heard his smooth bass through the screen, the light too dim to make out his features, but knowing that it was him this time was enough for you.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” you paused to hold your tongue, knowing if you didn’t speak consciously, daddy might slip out instead.

Father Todd took your deliberation as nervousness. Maybe he thought it was your first time. Gently he said, “Place your trust in a merciful Father and be unafraid to confess to your wrongdoings.”

You swallowed hard. This might be the only chance you get it. And if it was so wrong, so fucking bad, you knew God could strike you down at any moment.

“Every Monday and Wednesday at work, I take my afternoon break outside. There’s a few benches outside next to the security office. My building’s in a nice part of town. It’s got trees and bushes and privacy, which is saying a lot for Gotham City.”

He hummed.

“So those two days when I go out there, I stay out for a lot longer than 15 minutes.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s tools,” he reminds you.

“And what do they say about idle mouths, Father?” His shadow stirred a little and you knew you were making him uncomfortable. You hoped that he was blushing. “Though I suppose it wasn’t necessarily idle. It was working a job.”

Admittedly you couldn’t tell if it was recalling the event that made you wet or the audible swallow when he realized what you were getting at. Maybe he was shifting so much to hide his hard on. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought.

He cleared his throat. “Hinting at things isn’t a full confession, you know. To be fully forgiven, you need to confess the full extent of your sins.”

After you told him exactly what you did, Father Todd asked, “Do you plan on marrying this man?”

You stifled your laughter. Jason saw your shadowed figure heave, a breathy ‘no’ coming out in between giggles.

“Fornication is a sin,” he chided. “Sex isn’t meant for pleasure. Its sole purpose is for procreation.”

Nodding your head, you gave him a disinterested ‘uh-huh.’ Premarital sex was one of the few lessons you remembered, constantly getting slutshamed by family members and teachers alike. That and the use of contraception was intrinsically evil. “Think of those unborn babies you’re killing with your selfishness,” you remembered one overzealous aunt exclaiming. You rolled your eyes.

“I swallowed.”

“All of it?”

You could have sworn there was a hint of curiosity and lust in his voice as you confirmed it. “Every last drop, Father.”

Cheekily, you added, “Isn’t it also sinful to waste?”

Jason smirked. Your confession was definitely one of the more interesting ones of the day.

“If it really was every last drop as you said,” he said your name seductively low, “I’d say you were a glutton.”

You scoffed. “Well, I am sorry, which is why I’m here.” A lie. You could confess that at the next session. “So what should I do?”

“This is worth more than six Hail Mary’s, I’d say,” he tapped on his chin in thought. “For the sake of your spiritual progress, you need something more than that. Because you committed a sin of the flesh, it’d only be appropriate to perform a corporal act of mercy.”

“To serve your penance, feed the hungry”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You asked, overwhelmed with your punishment. You didn’t have time for any of that. How would you even do any of that? You couldn’t cook to save your life.

“Luckily for you, the church offers dinner for those in need on Saturday nights.”

You bit your lip. There were better ways to spend your weekend than that. You wanted to make up a lie and say that you couldn’t, but a part of you wanted to be an adult and take responsibility for your actions. No, not because you felt any sort of remorse for your sexual encounter. You needed to be responsible and follow through with your desires to fluster the priest.

Reluctantly you agreed to meet him on Saturday.

---

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” you told Father Todd, a small box in your arms and two heavy boxes in his.

You couldn’t help but watch him earlier as he lifted them into his arms, squatting low to save his back. You could tell through the khakis and checkered button-up -a typical dad outfit that you wouldn’t bat your eye at if any other man wore it- that he was ripped, thick muscles flexing and extending with his movement. You wondered if he had a six pack.

“You thought that helping people would be bad?” He asked, giving you a side eye and an amused smile. He had a way of trying to poke at your conscience. Too bad you didn’t really have one.

You didn’t even try to backpedal. It was as if Father Todd could see through you.

“Talking to them and hearing their stories really made me grateful for what I have. It’s so easy to lose it all and be left with nothing. It’s easy to judge and make assumptions but we really don’t know what someone else has been through.”

Tucking the box in one arm and twisting the knob to get into the storage room, you thanked him. “I wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t forced me to,” Jason laughed at your choice in words, “so thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

The automatic lights switched on as you entered the room, Father Todd instructing you to put the boxes in the corner. Aside from the boxes you dropped off, the storage room was surprisingly neat. There was a worn leather couch in the middle -a donate, he told you- and an old lamp in the corner.

Taking a seat on the couch and stretching out, the priest patted the spot next to him invitingly. It would be tight but you could fit. Though this is exactly what you wanted, something primal in your gut told you not to move. It would be like walking into a lion’s den. You took four steps forward to reach your seat. You got off on danger.

He ran his hand through those dark locks, making you wish you could play with his curls and tickle your palm along the short sides. “You shouldn’t be thanking me yet. You still haven’t done your penance.”

Tilting your head at him, you saw that he was serious, confusion and anxiety sinking in your stomach. “What would you consider these last three hours then?” Your voice raised like a child being unfairly punished, “I fed the hungry like you asked!”

Jason clicked his tongue. “You need to show more contrition.”

You felt yourself grow hot with anger. “I didn’t have to come tonight. I didn’t have to confess my sins. But I did it anyway!”

“And for what?” He challenged, still remaining pleasantly cool despite your anger. “Surely it wasn’t to get closer to God.”

You felt something warm and heavy sit on your knee. You looked down to see his hand on it and nearly startled when you realized how close he was to you. You could see how clear his light blue eyes were, twinkling like glacial water under the sun. There was a darkness to them that you didn’t understand. Was it always there? You stared, realizing what it was. His pupils were wide with arousal.

His hand crept up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress along with him. You swallowed. His touch was no longer warm but impossibly hot, as if there was fire there instead. It lingered a finger-lengths away from your inner thigh. If he just reached a bit more…

“I think your plan was to get closer to me.”

“Says the priest who dares to lay his hand on a child of God.”

Father Todd laughed and a part of you feared that he might retract his hand. He kept it there and pressed, fingertips indenting into your skin.

“Please tell me where you see a child of God in this room. Perhaps it’s a ghost?” He leaned closer to you so that you could feel his breath upon your cheeks and he sneered, “Because all I see here is a fucking brat that likes to press her luck.”

Jason let out a low chuckle as he leaned back to get a better view of your shocked face, eyes wide and mouth frozen around words that were lost. His manner of speech was getting looser and looser, more casual and intimate from his guarded remarks and teasing. He didn’t sound like who you thought he was.

“What? Surprised that I knew what you were up to this whole time? It’s not like you tried to hide what you were doing.” Your face felt hot as he caught you.

“Like I said, you need to show some contrition or else you’re going to commit the same sins over and over.”

“Y-you don’t know that.” You twisted your body to avoid the way his body scooted closer to yours.

“Aw, what’s this? Tryna act all sweet and innocent or are you making up for past mistakes?”

His hand shot forward to press against your panties, the surprise of it all making you stiff. Father Todd only needed to press against your clothed slit twice to feel it, his fingers damp with your desire.

Pulling out, he pressed them together, watching as your slick webbed and disappeared with the movement. “Heh. Figured. I knew you were wet.”

Jason answered your quiet ‘how?’ with a smirk. “I could smell your cunt dripping the entire time we were walking here.”

You crossed your legs as if that would change anything.

“How could you even say that with a straight face? Some holy man you are! If I knew you were nothing more than a dirty pervert, I…”

“You what?” Jason taunted. “You wouldn’t have played your little games with me? You would have been more forward?”

He paused, a slow smile spreading on his face. “Or maybe, you wouldn’t have felt so bad each time you played with your pussy to the thought of me ravaging you?”

“What do they call it? Ah, yes. Catholic guilt. Though, from some of the things you’ve told me, it seems like you don’t have much of that.”

Your ears were hot and this time you pointedly tried to get away from the man, scooting until your back met the other end of the loveseat. You couldn’t get far. “So what?” You asked with fake courage. “How do you even know that? How can you even say that?”

At your question, Jason felt relief and snapped his fingers. He was tired of putting up this act. Your eyes shut at the sudden flash of light and smoke, taking seconds to adjust from its brightness and coughing a little. You waved off fumes from your face, noting that it smelled like something otherworldly yet earthy all the same.

“Glad you asked,” you heard through the fog as it finally revealed Father Todd again, but his new form made him look nothing like a priest. “I can do and say whatever the fuck I want because I’ve never been a man of God but a prince of hell.”

He was seated as he was prior, knees bumping into yours, but he looked strikingly different from the clean cut clergyman you thought you knew. His dark locks were slicked back -not in a manner to look neat but in a way that was sexy, as if he was tempting you to mess up his coif- and his skin was a deep red as if scorched by hell’s flames.

And his clothes! Though at first glance you would have thought he was wearing his usual Sunday best, finer details told you that his suit was expensive. The way it was cut to show off his wide shoulders and long legs made you guess that it was tailored, the black-on-black material that touched your skin felt soft and silken.

Ruby-colored eyes were entertained as you assessed him, checking him out from head to toe before locking with them. “I’d ask if you like what you see but that increasingly large wet spot on your panties is enough of an answer.”

“What-”

“Am I?” Jason finished, rolling his shoulders and stretching his hands. You couldn’t see it because you were human but demonic power was surging through his veins. It felt good to have his true form back, the constraints of the human body were claustrophobic.

“An incubus.”

He reveled in the power he felt from feeding off your energy. Apparently being in the presence of a demon wasn’t enough to scare the horny out of you. That was fine. It worked in his favor. He licked his lips, his hunger getting to him.

His brothers told him that a church was no place to feed, that those muscles he was so proud of would atrophy in a place like that. It was best to go from house to house and dream to dream. But Jason was never one to listen to others. He didn’t care if it would take him months. Maybe there was something good in having patience. It led him to you.

Unlike his brothers, he considered himself a gourmet. He hated the sour pucker of spirits that Tim loved. And spice? Sure, he and Dick have shared more than a few hot meals together but the heat died down fast. He loved salt, and that could only be found in humans with bad attitudes. Salty meals were difficult to find though. It was easy for them to be overdone, making the meal inedible.

“Ar-are you gonna eat me?” You asked, fear finally settling in.

He frowned as his appetizer was cut short. You tasted so good. “Obviously.”

“B-but you can’t! I’m…” You trailed off, unsure if pleading for your life would do anything to make the incubus reconsider stealing your energy.

“A slut,” the demon finished for you. “And what happens to dirty sluts like you? They get punished the way God intended.”

With ease, he put you over his lap, the stroke of his finger igniting a flame that burnt your clothes. Your attempts at struggling were futile. Something hot bound your wrists. Was it magic? It didn’t matter. You were naked and vulnerable in the demon’s grasp. You didn’t know what he would do with you.

“Father Todd! Jason!” You whimpered across the expanse of his thighs. It was only human to fear punishment and the unknown.

He scoffed, already forgetting about those human names. “It’s J. One syllable. One letter. Though that won’t be the reason it’ll be easy to remember.”

His fingertips dragged across your ass, admiring the shiver that ran through your spine and the way it indented against his touch. “I’ll have you screaming my name for all eternity.”

He spanked you once, frowning as you yelped. He smacked your ass again, this time harder and with a bit of heat added to his palm to make it hurt. “Ah, there you go. Say my name one more time. Your voice is actually quite lovely.”

Something glinted under the light and J inspected it. “You’re soaked,” he noted, spreading your ass to take a better look at your pussy. Your thighs fought against his much stronger hand to squeeze them shut. You could feel his eyes leaving heated looks upon your flesh. Though many have seen you naked, this was the first time you felt embarrassment and shame.

“Is this why you wanna be bad all the time? Because you like the punishment?” He hummed as you nodded your head against your better judgement, mind clouded by that earthy smoke that suddenly filled your nose. “You’re gonna have fun in hell.”

You braced yourself for another impact but yelped with surprise as J dipped his fingers in you as he remained purposefully quiet, the lewd sounds of wetness and breathing in the air.

Feeling a knot in your stomach, you begged J for release only to have him laugh cruelly. With a come-hither movement to his fingers, he slathered your wetness onto your other hole.

“It’s not enough!” You cried.

J clicked his tongue, “Right. It’s never enough for whores like you.”

He spat on the hole, some of it dripping down onto your slit. “You’re lucky I’m an incubus. Our spit has similar properties to lube.” He let out a cruel laugh after, “Too bad I wasn’t something more venomous.”

His free hand pressed your back down as the other rubbed at the rim, teasing his index finger until he pushed forward. You gasped at the intrusion, uncomfortable for a moment until the movements were nothing more than a sad replacement for cock.

“God created man in his image,” Jason intoned, as if it was perfectly normal for a demon to give a sermon while fingering a sinner’s ass. “Therefore man must be as good as God. But God, that B… he’s more of a control freak with a sick sense of humor than a perfect creator.”

“How does it feel to be made in the image of someone as flawed as Him?”

At this point you were panting, your hips rocking with his movement as you tried to find release. You wouldn’t find any unless your clit was rubbed, tits annoyingly catching on the leather.

The demon slowed his movement, your whining earning two more spanks. “Of course you weren’t listening. Don’t worry, devils don’t mind broken things. We see beauty in the cracks and flaws of human nature.” Especially when it meant they could get their dicks wet.

“I’ll do you a favor, my sweet little sinner. For this first time, I’ll take you from a place where God doesn’t look. His blindspot.”

You paused for a moment, trying to figure out what the demon meant, then laughed upon realization. You hadn’t heard that term since you graduated from your all-girls high school. “Look at you- a demon trying to be sweet! Pretty sure it’s too late to pretend that I’m still a virgin.”

You gained courage with each word, J’s hypnotism broken from your position. The sedative effects of the frankincense and myrrh were also wearing down. You could think more clearly.

“So you’re gonna fuck my ass, demon? With what cock?” The creature had to have some interest in you -whether it was as prey or pussy- but you felt nothing as you laid naked across his lap, not even a soft bulge of disinterest. “I bet it isn’t even that big,” you jeered.

“Not that big?” He mused before pushing you down to ground with those magical restraints. He looked larger than you remembered in his human form, body seemingly taller with more muscle packed onto his figure.

He stood, confirming his height, casting a shadow over you as you bent your neck backwards to look at him. J liked the way your eyes followed his hands as they slowly undid his zipper, the subtle change in your expression begging him to remove it all. Unfortunately for you that wouldn’t happen. He believed in the power of a well-tailored suit. Sluts like you were weak against them.

J took his cock and balls out, the meaty flesh falling heavily against his pants. There was a look of lust in your eyes as you saw it, a surge of arrogant pride swelling through him with the slightest lick of your lips. He wasn’t even fully erect yet.

His hand stroked himself to fullness as you twisted against your restraints. Three in, it grew heavy with lust and was an angry red, sleek and shiny from the pre-cum he smeared along it. His length was ridged with bumps, a darker maroon, that ran lengthwise down his cock. Fully engorged, it was thicker, his fingers barely able to encircle it. You weren’t a size queen, but you might become one.

Something shiny caught your eye at his tip. Two golden balls peaked out of his slit- a Prince Albert piercing. Was it survival mode or that you were a slut that made you wonder what it would feel like pressed deep inside you?

“This is big enough.” His voice sounded like thunder from below. ”You might even say that it's too big.” He winked, those garnet eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”

His balls swayed with the slightest movement, laden with virility. On your knees, you could worship him and sing prayers to his sex from deep down in your throat. You’d swallow his cum as if blowing him was the Eucharist. But J had no need for such piety. He bent you over the arm of the couch.

You felt his warm, thick spit on your ass before his fingers occupied that space once more. You groaned with pain at first then frustration. After seeing that cock, you were greedy.

Giving you no time to prepare, J pushed in, his head meeting resistance. “Breathe,” he commanded. He couldn’t have you passing out on him. The salt was what would make the meal.

Nodding, you tried to keep your breaths steady, fingers grabbing at the air to brace themselves with each inch he advanced. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he bottomed out. It was as you expected. His piercing and ridges pressed against you nicely.

J closed his eyes for a moment, the image of your fragile human body beneath him trapped in his eyelids- the angle of your hips, your hair, your skin. They said it was best not to eat with your eyes. It was true. If Jason didn’t close them, he would devour you whole.

Pathetically, you tried to fuck yourself on his cock, ass hardly moving due to his size. It was cute watching you struggle. Spoiled little brats shouldn’t always get what they want.

With J inside, you found yourself gasping despite his stillness. He filled you and stretched you in ways you never felt before. You knew no other man could satisfy you after.

His hips rolled like the waves, each crash more powerful than the last, his pull outs feeling longer and longer until he teased you with just the tip. His hand had a rough grip on your side, only leaving it to spank you once or twice. Your cunt dripped in jealousy.

He gave in to its request, reaching around to dip two fingers between your folds as he fucked your ass, the meaty part of his palm dangerously rubbing against your sensitive bud. Tears formed and fell, following the curve of your face as your mouth hung open, wanton cries getting caught between the cushions. There was only the sound of that, J’s heavy breathing and occasional growl, and lewd slap of wetness, skin and leather.

“What’s this?” He asked, his body hovering over yours as his hand left your hip to clutch your throat, using it to tilt your body towards him. His touch was light enough so that you could still breathe but held enough pressure to make it difficult. Your eyes were red and glassy with drool at the side of your mouth. J had never seen anything more appetizing.

The demon’s lips hovered over your cheek, not to kiss but to taste. Like the rest of his body, his tongue was long, warm and thick as he moved from one side to the other to lap at your tears. They were salty yet sweet, the pleasure he was giving you balancing out your brattiness.

His cock nearly stilled inside of you, hips lazily grinding into your ass as his fingers retreated to rub your clit on occasion. He was trying to savor those delicious wet drops. He didn’t know when his next meal would be.

When they were gone, his voice rasped into your ear, obnoxiously drunk with seduction. “How did you know that I was thirsty?”

“From the way you were desperately humping me.” You jeered, voice tight and body tingling as your orgasm eluded you once more. You knew it was intentional.

He pulled back, wishing he could take back that delicate kiss he placed behind your ear for that comment, but that was also why he wanted you.

“You dare to compare a great demon of hell to a mutt? If that’s the case, guess I should treat you like the bitch that you are.”

Before you could reply, his hips canted into yours roughly, the hand on your throat barely holding you in place. Your vision blurred with tears from the squeeze, breathing ragged as the demon loosened it. You stood on your tippy toes, your balance at his mercy.

His piercing kept rubbing a certain spot that made you see stars or maybe it was lack of oxygen. When J briefly let go of your throat, you taunted, “Is that all you got, demon?”

“Guess you really weren’t listening to my sermons, were you? It’s a shame because maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. Your penance reminds you that God comes first and you come last. So where does that leave devils like me? I fall somewhere in-between.”

He only needed a minute more. He absorbed enough of your essence to give you the fucking that you begged for. The metal from his piercing rubbed at his slit, making him torn between wanting to pound into you or drag this out.

With that, each push into your hole felt more like a shove, as if the demon had more inches to give you. You felt his size with every thrust. His movements were rough, each stroke repeatedly nudging that spot that made your toes curl and the ridges made your body tingle as his other hand dripped with your wetness. Your sobbing was choked, your weeping and drool making a mess down his knuckles. It took self-restraint not to lick them.

They were garbled and broken but J still heard your words: “Oh God. Please. Please!”

He could feel that you were close, your pussy clamping around his fingers. “Is this all it takes for you to be a good girl? Manners and all?” He sneered. “It’s too late for prayer. Now call for me with reckless abandon. If you beg nicely, I might save you.”

You mouthed his name over and over as you felt his seed fill you, the heat of it warming your body. J muffled a growl into your shoulder as he came, his fingers working deftly on your clit to release you as well. Sweet deliverance.

The stimuli proved too much though as your vision faded to black, vaguely acknowledging an emptiness when the demon pulled out. You weren’t afraid. The darkness was pleasant.

---

J laid your used body on the ground, tucking himself back into his pants, inspecting them closely to make sure cum didn’t get on them. Stepping over you, he stretched himself across the couch, thinking he earned a nap for draining you of your energy.

“Very kind of you to feed the hungry, little sinner,” he said.

“But does getting fucked really count as penance?” It was stupid of him to wait for your answer. “Ah, what would you know? It’s not like I’m ordained either.”

He sunk into the cushions, closing his eyes.

Before he could fully rest, a thought forced him to sit up, glancing at you to make sure you were breathing. The rise and fall of your chest was subtle, but you were still alive.

“Well, shit, I’m glad I didn’t overdo it. Humans can be so delicate,” he spoke out loud, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and snapping his fingers to light one up. That little scare woke him up.

“Think I can get another meal outta ya though.” He took a lazy drag as your body stirred back to life, his cum dripping out of your hole. “Bon appetit to me.”

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Curated Masterlists

Jason Todd’s Masterlist

#jason todd x reader #rest writes #tw dubcon #tw religion #jason todd smut

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Note

Hi there. Can I request a poly relationship with Albedo, Xiao and Scaramouche ? A mix of fluff n a pinch of smut is this possible ?

First of all, what the fuck gave you this wacky idea? I thought at first, wow, this is so random, how did they think this. But then upon making the banner- IT'S ALL MY HUSBANDS IN ONE FICNWOFHLSNDLKSBSOANA

I'll do my best but oh gawd, I'm just so baffled right now HAHAHHA- brain juice GONE

Three Shorties Convention

Poly Relationship with Scaramouche, Albedo and Xiao... (event masterlist)

HOW?!

Three individuals from three different nations somehow collated to love a single human, that of which is you. With how wide your range is for such individuals, we can greatly assume that you are an adventurer travelling the world.

You first met Scaramouche who was undercover, on the way to Mondstadt/Liyue through boat. As he was in the down low, he made sure to act friendly to avoid suspicion. When he heard you were on the same path, he thought of using you as an alibi.

The next person you came across was Xiao when you were passing by the Inn. You heard of the Adepti residing in the area and wanted to ask for blessings as your journey would be much more confusing and dangerous. You lit up incense and a small prayer before leaving.

The last person you met was Albedo. Mond was your last destination before you laid low again until your next long expedition, and you were looking for Alice who you met long ago during your expeditions. You last heard about Mond from her and wanted to talk to her about your adventures but ended up empty.

What made them stay/intrigued? For Scaramouche, he saw you messing with the meteors and your theories, your disarrayed thoughts and ideas somehow made sense when he looks past the lines. And you ended up being the reason he found the large piece of meteor in that... island thingy.

For Xiao, it was the incense I mentioned earlier. It was something you got as a souvenir from a commission in Inazuma, and the scent it gave off brought him to Teyvat Nirvana, the voices silent and his body soothed. His curiousity got the best of him as he tracked your path.

And finally, you first piqued Albedo's interest when you mentioned your affiliation with Alice, and when he listened to your stories (you forced him to listen since Alice was not there) it remindee him greatly of his master.

All of them were attached so badly that on your way to the wilderness one day, the three of them ended up confronting you in some kind of JJBA way with you in the middle. Their Visions and weapons were raised in worry until you identified how you knew them all.

And when they found out of each other's interests towards you, they grew more wary but turned to you: who was busy picking up a mint flower to truly understand what's going on.

"I like all of you!" Somehow all three of them were smart enough to realize that you hold at least a drop of endearment for each of them.

It was supposed to be a silent competition, that then ended up to an ambiguous relationship through coexistence. The problem here is: all four of you barely understood the grounds of a proper relationship, and delved deeper into this polyamory without a second thought.

Equal Thirds

Oh geezus, this is the most confusing setup you've been through. Having to juggle between three continents, three men, three different occasions. They were so petty to the point that your schedule must be split EQUALLY or else the other two would ambush the place you would be in.

Albedo is the busiest and lax when it comes to your "relationship schedule." As a person of Alchemy, he takes days buried deep into his research and he is more than thankful for the existence of a schedule, as he struggles with the maintenance of human relations a concrete time and day for when he is needed balances this. Albedo requests your presence during the period after his major experiments where he wishes to unwind and empty his brain of the equations and machinations. His type of love deals with comfort and distraction.

Xiao has the most free time in your relationship in terms of work, but he is also the one tied down strictly to his code of conduct. His time with you comes from your visits to Liyue and he will always be by your side whether you're in the outskirts or within the mortal realm. His type of love, ironically, is filled with longing touches and whispers of adoration for your strength and light that silences the voices in his head.

Scaramouche is the neediest boy in this bunch, the most mortal of them and the farthest from your reach. Your relationship is a secret to everyone especially the Fatui, but he makes sure that every agent in Liyue and Mond does not lay a hand on you or else he's breaking that same limb. Your time with him comes when HE comes over no matter where you are or what you do. His 'love' is filled with materialism and feisty aura, revelling in strenght and power dynamics.

When you're in charge of the schedule is the rare times that all three of you are together, because you plan your expeditions well in par with their seemingly conflicting schedules. Soon enough you four would be a whole team of travellers going around Teyvat to indulge whatever curiousities you lay upon.

"Circus Festival in Fontaine? Sign me and my three boys the fuck up. No complains, I know you're free."

Camping and travelling with them is sooo convenient too because they're all incredibly strong in constitution and battle. You only need to hang back and watch as they bring you a fireworks of elements, which are thankfully not very harmful against each other.

You're NEVER hurt or even TOUCHED when they're with you, they always have keen eyes for danger and always stick close to you to make sure you are safe. But on a RARE occasion that you DO get hurt, they have a formation: Albedo is tasked in retrieving you, Scaramouche is the backup in clearing a safe area for possible first aid, and Xiao lets all hell break loose once you three are gone.

They help out as much as they can whenever you all go out to camp but ultimately it ends up being some kind of adventuring class for the three of them since you're the master in this field.

Cute stuff: You never keep watch because they always want to cuddle, so one would be up and the other two would be cuddling you on both sides, and the rounds would switch between them while you have your beauty nap.

Albedo is pretty chill with the other two, but Scaramouche and Xiao seem to have a tension between them due to his Harbinger status. Xiao is wary and protective of Albedo because of the knowledge of his background coming from Morax. And all three of you deal with Scara's chattiness.

Your Pet Names for them! Scaramouche: Darling; Xiao: Sweetie; Albedo: Beloved. If you go beyond that, they start to see favoritism so you picked them carefully.

Their Pet Names for you! Scaramouche: My Dear; Xiao: Beloved; Albedo: Sunshine.

Soon enough, their soft rivalries turned into friendly coexistence and they would start to at least see each other in a better light besides acquaintances. While nothing physical or lovey-dovey would happen between them as they only ever see you in that way, they develop respect and slight trust. Competition long gone as it dissolves into compassion in protecting you and giving you the loving you deserve.

@albaedhoe @struggljng @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @kookieyachi @struggljng @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22

Softcore under the cut! No looking, my children

In this relationship, individual and multiple participating intercourse is normal, and they happen when all parties involved are ever comfortable. With the fact that you'll change continents in mind soon after, the boys have their little rituals with you.

The most prominent of all would be Scaramouche's signature hickey on your neck. He sucks it hard enough to make it stay for WEEKS, so that when the other boys move to kiss you on your neck, they see the apparent mark and groan to themselves in defeat. It was your sensitive and ticklish spot, and he makes sure he owns it.

For Albedo, he almost always (probably in a kink way) do it with you on a surface that's NOT the bed. Table, chair, sofa, his lap, it seems that the bed is a sacred place for rest. And he usually ends up doing it when he is about to finish his work, hence the convenience of such furnitures. You were conditioned to the point that if you even just innocently lean on a furniture, your mind and body immediately snaps back to those moments, making you back off with a flushed face.

Xiao is the most innocent and yeet friskiest of them all. He loves to litter you with kisses all over your body, no bites and no scratches, just innocent flutters of his lips that makes you tingle. But such moments of lovemaking... seem to always happen on the Inn's balcony. Most of the time it's when the door leading there is closed for the night, but you were sure there were occasions that someone at least knew or saw what was happening, but you two were too drowned in pleasure to notice.

Whenever all four of you were to participate, safe words are always emphasized. Because you're suffocating right after between their bodies with all holes filled to the brim with them. Usually the formation goes as: Albedo behind you, Xiao in front and Scaramouche in your mouth. They may switch up when you still have the stamina but that's their default order, and yes, you orgasm multiple times and are overstimulated a lot. To the point that you're getting used to it.

It's a golden rule to always shower before and after your session, and they would be very caring and gentle during aftercare. With this arrangement, you always have a large bed rented or in your arsenal for a huge cuddle session at night.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #xiao x Reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #poly #smut #not for children kinda #exile.flower #exile.goblet #kabdisnsosmsps

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years

Text

Law of Conservation

Summary: You’ve been working as a tutor at your high school for about a year now. When your parents throw a barbeque party for your new neighbors, their mother Aslaug asks you to tutor her son Hvitserk, who is already a notorious flirt at his school.

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader (modern au)

Notes: my requests are OPEN! | Masterlist | message me if you want to be added to my taglist (for any character/fandom)

tagged: @alicedopey

You sat in your room, notes for your science project littering your floor as you checked your eyeliner for the third time in one minute. The new neighbors were coming over, and you wanted to make a good impression.

Okay, that was a lie. One of the brothers was absolutely smoking hot and somehow, you hoped he’d notice you. Your efforts were probably wasted anyways. Your friend Maria, who went to the school the brothers had transferred to had already told you that Hvitserk Lothbrok was a total flirt.

“Y/N, come down please, they’re almost here.” Your mom said. You checked your reflection one last time, moving your necklace in the correct spot.

“Get down here, dumbass.” Your little brother yelled.

“Oh, fuck off, will you.” You replied. Grabbing your phone from your bed, you rushed through the door and into the yard, where the first guests were already gathered.

“And this is my daughter Y/N.” your mother introduced. The tall woman in front of you had to be Aslaug Lothbrok.

“Nice to meet you.” You replied, shaking the woman’s hand. She’d brought all her sons with her. Ubbe wasn’t in high school anymore, having graduated just recently and studying in your city’s college.

Ivar and Sigurd were barely a year apart, but they couldn’t be more different. Sigurd was nice, smiling brightly. He still had a guitar case slung over his shoulder and had purple nail polish peeling off as he gave you a fistbump.

Ivar sat in a wheelchair, sneering at Sigurd. Rudely, he looked you up and down, silently nodding you hello.

And then there was Hvitserk. About your age, as far as you knew, a senior in high school and apparently a skater, judging from the scraped knee peeking out of his ripped jeans and the beanie on his head.

You managed to not embarrass yourself as you shook his hand and then quickly disappeared into the backyard to get something to eat.

Eventually, you sat down next to Ivar. You weren’t the most social person either, but most of the time, people like him turned out to be pretty nice.

“You go to the international school, right?” you asked, handing him a drink.

“Yeah.” He replied curtly. As he took the drink from you, you noticed that he’d painted his nails too, though they were a solid black.

“Your nails look really good.” You complimented.

“Can’t say the same about yours.” Ivar snorted. You looked at your hands, noticing that the red nail polish had begun to peel.

“I had an accident in chemistry.” You shrugged. That seemed to pique Ivar’s interest.

“You take chemistry?”

“Uhuh.” You replied. “I think it’s interesting.”

Ivar scoffed. “Physics is much better.”

“I never said it wasn’t.” you shot back playfully.

Apparently, Ivar was a huge science nerd because he suddenly leaned in, a much friendlier expression on his face.

“Your siblings idiots about physics too?” he asked.

“They’re a little young to take science.” You replied.

“Right.” He said. “You could think the same of my brothers.”

You had to laugh. “That bad?”

Ivar nodded. In that moment, Ubbe came up and began to talk to Ivar about something concerning the ‘business’ whatever that meant, so you searched for your neighbor and somewhat-friend Anja.

When you found her, she was chatting up Sigurd. To be honest, they’d make a cute couple. If there was a word to describe Anja, it was artsy and Sigurd, well, he looked like that was exactly what he was going for.

Realizing they were probably having a moment; you headed inside and climbed the stairs to your room. Maybe you could work on your project a little more…

When you cracked the door open, you almost shrieked at the person lying on your bed.

“What are you doing in my room?” you demanded. Hvitserk gave you a smirk, blowing a bubble with his gum.

“I like this place.” He responded, “Nice décor you’ve got there.” Hvitserk pointed to your bra, slung over a bedpost messily. God, this guy was insufferable.

“Adds to the overall atmosphere, don’t you think?” you replied. Thankfully, Hvitserk had taken his shoes off or you’d seriously flip your shit.

“Yeah, but your science project should go. Reminds me of my brother.”

“You should get out of my room.” You replied calmly. What was he even doing here?

“Come on, babe. Don’t be like that.” He replied. You rolled your eyes. Who was he to call you pet names?

“Oh, fuck me, please just lie down somewhere else.” You said.

“I’d love to.” Hvitserk replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Huh?”

“Fuck you. I mean, if you’re already offering-“

“Out!” you exclaimed, pointing to the door. Hvitserk threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine.”

After a few minutes, you made your way back down, decided on not letting this guy throw you off, no matter how hot.

“Y/N!” your mother suddenly said, and you turned around. “Yeah?”

When you walked up to her, you noticed that Aslaug was leaning against a wall, drink in hand. What had they been talking about?

“I told Aslaug that you’re really good at physics and stuff and that you’re tutoring some people from your school.”

“Maybe you could tutor Hvitserk too?” Aslaug asked. “We’d pay, of course.”

You wanted to say no, but that would’ve been really suspicious, so you shrugged your shoulders. “Sure, why not. When do you want me to come over?”

“Do you have time tomorrow?” Aslaug asked. You nodded in agreement.

***

The next day, Aslaug opened the door with a bright smile. “Thanks for coming, Hvitty has his exam tomorrow and really needs some help.” She led you inside. “And Ivar got into a fight with him yesterday so-“ she stopped herself.

“Well, you’re here now. His room is up the stairs, the first on the right.”

“Thanks Mrs. Lothbrok.” You replied, shouldering your bag.

“Call me Aslaug, honey.”

The door to Hvitserk’s room was closed when you walked up, but you could hear some Maneskin coming from the dramatically black door at the end of the hallway. You could guess who lived in there.

Carefully, you knocked.

“Come in.” Hvitserk replied. You opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a shirtless Hvitserk – not that you complained.

“Hi. Maybe put on a shirt if we’re going to be studying.”

“What, don’t you like what you see, babe?” he teased. The nickname seemed to have stuck.

“Let’s get started on friction, okay?” you suggested, pointing to the open textbook.

Hvitserk’s smirk let you know exactly what he was thinking about. As payback you sank down on his bed. It was way too comfortable for your liking.

“Sit down and tell me what you already know.”

***

For about half an hour, you re-explained the different energies to Hvitserk before you moved on to the Law of Conservation of Energy. At this point, he’d moved his stuff onto the bed.

“So, if we’re talking about a closed system, for example, this room, no energy can be added or leave it. It’s only converted into a different kind of energy.”

Slowly, Hvitserk nodded.

“So, if I hypothetically kissed you right now, my energy would be turned into friction on your lips, right?” Hvitserk asked. “Only hypothetically of course.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess that would work.” You replied. For a split-second your eyes flitted down to his lips. You couldn’t help yourself; he was still really fucking hot.

“Now moving on-“ you began.

“Do we have to? I really liked our last topic.” Hvitserk said.

“Will you move on if we try out your hypothesis?” you asked, meaning it as a joke.

“You’ve got a deal.” Hvitserk replied.

“So if we look at these forces-“ you began anew.

“Hey! What about our experiment?”

“Fine.” You replied. Instantly, Hvitserk leaned in, a hand snaking to support your lower back as he kissed you. Much deeper than he’d ought to.

The kiss left you a little breathless and dizzy. “Wow, okay you’re a really good kisser, but we should get back on track.”

“That’s a pity, I liked kissing you.” Hvitserk said.

“Maybe take me out first next time.” You grumbled.

“Next Saturday. My brother’s band is playing, you should come. He’s better than we all admit.” Hvitserk prompted.

“I wasn’t being serious.” You said. “But I guess I could make it. Now, if we finally look at those forces instead of each other’s lips…”

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song v (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, fluff, smut; a shit ton of kissing, oral (f), seokjin likes eye contact, slight overstimulation, he also seems to have a slight potty mouth when turned on, romantic sex, protected sex, shower scene, oral (m), this chapter is basically just sex, enjoy! (yes, the dilf dick is b i g) lingerie described found here for the visuals ~ words; 9,572

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. You were like a little kid at the lead up to Christmas. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Actually, on second thoughts, you couldn’t think of a time you were this excited for anything, period. And all over the prospect of sleeping with Seokjin, and definitely not in the innocent way… He had in no way explicitly stated that you’d be having sex this week, but the insinuation was heavy in the air. Everything leading up to this moment was suggesting come Saturday night you would not be sat in front of Seokjin’s 75” television watching boxsets…

On the morning of you decided to pack a few things in a small case. You definitely planned on returning home in the day if needed or bored while Seokjin was at work, but the essentials were required: underwear, pyjamas, a few outfits, toiletries and skincare, your iPad, miscellaneous chargers. Soojung on the other hand was acting like you were never coming back…

“I’m going to miss you.” She whined, having been hovering around you as you packed. “Leaving me alone with smelly Tae.”

In a bid not to be alone in the evenings she’d invited her smelly boyfriend over for the week, but although she sounded irked it was all just an act. God knows what they’d get up to while you were gone, you dreaded to think. On second thoughts, maybe it would be best to stay at Seokjin’s place all week… You had no clue what you’d walk in on in your own home.

“I won’t be gone the whole week. Besides, we can meet up for lunch and stuff.” You often visited her at the department store, perusing the food court until it was time for her lunch break. You weren’t secluded from the whole world while away. What did she think was happening?

She helped you fold your clothes in momentary silence, deep in thought it seemed. “What if you love it there and want to stay permanently Dilf mansion?”

You scoffed immediately, taking the small pile of t-shirts from her to pack away. “Soo, way to jump the gun.” You’d been dating barely six weeks, hadn’t even had sex yet, moving in together was number 1 on the highly unlikely list. Although, sliding in a couple of pairs of flats into the top pocket of your case and zipping it up, you hummed in consideration. “Dilf mansion does have a ring to it though…”

Soojung’s attention was on another pile of clothing now – one you would be wearing this evening to leave for Seokjin’s house. Her fingertips brushed along the delicate baby blue lace of your lingerie, sitting on top of the pile and she looked up at you and grinned wickedly. “You’re going to knock his socks off with this.”

You and her had spent yesterday browsing the mall with a very important task. To decide on the most perfect lingerie set. Knowing Seokjin for a while know, you’d noticed he had an inclination for the colour blue, so your chosen piece had to be a winner – practically see-through, littered in beautiful lace flowers. You were well and truly prepared for tonight, you were a woman on a mission.

“His Dilf socks,” you corrected your best friend, both of you instantly exploding into a fit of giggles.

Arin had left with her grandparents this morning, and as much as Seokjin was eager to get this weekend started and see you immediately, he actually had a few things he needed to take care of at work. It wasn’t until around 5pm that you got into your car to make the short journey, Soo waving you off proudly like you were about to attend your graduation. You were honestly quite calm given the circumstances, although one look at Seokjin as he stepped out the front door to take your case and all inner composure was lost. You were one big ball of excitement, most of it flurrying around in the pit of your stomach. Yet you kept cool on the outside, grinning at the handsome man in front of you despite your lingerie burning marks into your skin.

And handsome he was today, (as if he wasn’t every day), his dark hair parted in the centre of his forehead naturally, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You tasted a hint of mango on his mouth, an obvious sheen to his plump lips, and you presumed he’d applied some chapstick before you’d arrived – the chapstick you’d bought him not too long ago after he’d complained of cracked lips to you on the phone one night.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, his arms around your waist, body pressed snuggly into yours.

“Hey yourself,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing into one another’s eyes before you lightly teased him. “Are we going to stay out here all night?”

Chuckling heartily, he reached behind you, lifting your case with ease. “Let’s go put this in my room.”

You’d never once stepped foot onto the upper level of his house before, so you were very observant on your way to his bedroom, eyes catching art pieces (you noticed numerous of Arin’s) and photos along the walls, light fixtures, as well as the odd plant here and there. You had to walk two flights of stairs to get to your destination, one average in length, the other shorter, veering off to the left of the corridor to reach a landing leading into his bedroom. You remembered what he’d said about changing and designing his bedroom himself, so you were very curious as to what it looked like inside. Yet still, the sight of it stunned you to brief silence.

His was the largest bedroom in the house, the master bedroom if you were being fancy, but in your opinion it was more like a mini home in itself. All it needed was a kitchen and you would be good to go. It smelt just like him – of his cologne and the recognisable vanilla scent his house seemed to waft of every time you visited. The walls were warm grey, décor similar with dashes of cream and gold. The bed matched the whole vibe of the room – insanely large, and you could already tell it was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever slept on. Directly opposite, but a long way away, were a sofa and love seat sat around a TV hooked to the wall above a stunning fireplace. There were two sets of double windows, from the ceiling to the wooden floor, dark grey drapes open – not that it mattered. Seokjin’s house was out-of-the-way, no chance of being seen. All you were met with as you looked down, was a small patch of garden you hadn’t seen before, plain and simple, but very beautiful. Tranquil.

To the left of the room a door opened into another, perhaps a quarter of the size – his closet, and you followed him inside, still pretty much lost for words. He said there was no point putting your belongings away tonight, you could do it tomorrow, but he’d saved a drawer for you and there was an empty section of hanging space you could use too. There was also a dressing table you could put to good use, because he sure didn’t, and then he whisked you away into the bathroom, which was probably the most beautiful room in the house. Everything was warm marble in colour. A separate bath and shower (both gigantic) and double sinks.

“I got you a robe,” Seokjin pointed out, and you followed his gaze to behind the door, two fluffy white robes hooked to the wall.

Oh, boy. You could get used to this.

Seokjin ordered takeout for dinner – from an Indian restaurant Namjoon kept raving about apparently. With the amount he ordered you could have sworn he was feeding a whole party, not just the two of you. You were stuffed in no time, curling up on the sofa with a glass of red wine as Seokjin loaded the dishwasher. He still hadn’t cooked an actual meal for you, and when he joined you, of course you reminded him. This week he was preparing dinner for you one night, and that was final. You needed to see what Chef Kim had in him – even if he insisted his skills were long forgotten.

You cuddled as you watched a movie, which more often than not meant you’d start to become sleepy – just ask Soojung – but tonight was different. You were wide awake and practically thrumming with excitement. You were begging for the movie credits an hour before they were due, and when they finally popped up your heart started to beat harder in anticipation. It was nearing 11pm. Your lingerie was still burning welts into your skin…

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, your back pressed into his chest where you’d been snuggled into him, legs across the sofa, for the duration of the night. One of his arms was crossed around your front, the other free to drink his wine as he propped his feet up on the glass topped coffee table. You could really get used to this.

“What did you think?” He hummed, reaching forward to place his glass on a coaster. You grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave you and he chuckled, quickly resuming position to now loop both arms around your shoulders, pressing you further into the warmth of his body.

“I enjoyed,” you replied with a small shrug. In all honesty it would’ve been a great movie if you hadn’t been so distracted.

You felt him lower his head, breath hot against your ear as he spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep on me.” You giggled as he started to kiss the column of your neck, his barely there presses of his lips tickling you. Yet still you pushed into his hold, letting your head fall back. He took the opportunity to suck your earlobe between his lips, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. “I really can’t wait to spend this entire week with you.” He whispered.

You tried to keep your voice as uninvolved as possible – which was a lot harder when he now had your earlobe between his teeth. “Eh. I’m so-so over it.”

“Y/N!” He scolded playfully, groaning a laugh as he lifted his head away. “Stop. Now’s not the time for joking around.”

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, latching onto his hands.

“Face me,” he murmured almost suddenly. “Let me kiss you properly.”

His kisses were gentle and loving, his hands cupping your face as you leaned into him, hands placed across his hard chest. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into some black pants, he’d looked irresistible all night. He pulled away slowly, lips upturned almost drunkenly. “What’s that grin for?”

Seokjin’s gaze flicked from your lips to your eyes repeatedly as he replied, thumbs massaging circles into your cheeks. “I’m just very happy. Is that allowed?”

Giggling, you pressed your mouth to his, wrapping your palms around his neck to pull him in closer. He hummed loudly – indulgently, and let you lick into his mouth, his own hands slipping down to your neck and down your torso, gripping your middle. Your chest was flush to his and you welcomed the heat of his body. You were happy too. It had been a long time since you’d last felt this content, and tonight you’d realised just how lovely it was to be able to lounge with Seokjin and be in his company so casually, so naturally like this. You would become spoiled this week, but you couldn’t feel too worried right now.

Breaking away again, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but your mouth was a greedy thing, finding its way down his neck and across his throat as he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, his breathing shallow as he let you wonder. His fingers brushed up and down your back distractedly, until he seemed to remember what he wanted to tell you. “Hey,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat when you pinched your teeth into his Adam’s apple softly. “Hey, stop for a moment. There was something I wanted to say before…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the very obvious direction of his sentence, and as much as you wanted to nosedive straight into that pool, you pulled back to look into his eyes, waiting patiently.

He straightened his back and you eased off him a little, finding his fond smile contagious. “I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks so much.” He began, sincerity in his tone . “I know I’m not old old by any means but dating you has made me feel like I’m young again. I mean, grinding in the middle of a bar is something I didn’t even do back in my college days.”

“I fail to believe that,” you laughed.

“Really,” he insisted, looking amused. “I was a nerd. A handsome one, but a nerd nonetheless.” Before you could roll your eyes he was continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that, I really like you, Y/N.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair lovingly. “You know that already. Shit, I’m crazy about you. Just hearing your voice makes my day better. No matter how short a time we spend together, even if it’s just on the phone to say goodnight, I feel happy – I feel relaxed.” He paused to take a breath before moving to cup your face with one hand. “No matter how stressed I am you make it better by just existing.”

“…Seokjin,” you murmured, a little lost for words at his declaration.

He chuckled warmly, tops of his cheeks tinged somewhat rosy. “Too cheesy?”

You shook your head adamantly, reaching for his face as well. “Not at all. I’m crazy about you too.” His face lit up instantly and you couldn’t help but kiss him. “I’m so happy we met,” you confessed against his mouth. “I don’t want this summer to be over.”

“It’s not over yet,” he laughed. “We still have time to make it even better.” You wanted that more than anything. Finding it difficult to keep away from your lips, he practically had to tear himself away. He was out of breath. “I know saying this out loud is silly given everything, but… Let’s make this official.”

Your heart started somersaulting. You felt like you were in high school again, over the moon because Kim Rowoon had asked you to prom. Only this was better than that – much, much better. Linking your arms around Seokjin’s neck you tilted your head to the side, a grin unable to keep off your face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Kim?”

“What do you say?” He sounded hopeful and soft.

You hummed out loud, thinking hard. “Can I get back to you? 3 to five business days seems about right.” You immediately squealed as you finished your sentence, Seokjin’s hands finding their way around your butt to tug you forward. You gripped onto his shoulders with the surprise.

“Too bad because I’ve already been calling you my girlfriend at the office.”

You didn’t have a chance to reply, the hard press of his lips against yours knocking you senseless. You found yourself in his lap not long after, fingers dragging through his hair as you clung to him, mouths moving in gradual urgency until you began to feel out of breath. Your tongues seemed to grow more daring, intent, as your soft moans mingled with his quiet groans. You hadn’t quite found yourself in this position before, usually moulded to the soft leather but this time you had Seokjin pinned tight, a heat that was quickly becoming unbearable burning between your bodies, and his hands running up and down your back didn’t help.

Each brush of his fingertips had your skin prickling with warmth, dizzying your mind, and when you felt him brush against the curve of your left breast you leaned forward into his touch, desperate for more. Seokjin grunted, encouraged by your action as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb grazing your nipple which hardened from the touch. Your kiss turned a lot more frenzied after that, Seokjin roaming your body with confidence, his unoccupied hand cupping your butt to rock you against his crotch.

He was hard. You’d felt it stiffening ever since you’d climbed into his lap, but now he was solid, flesh pressing (probably painfully) against his pants, and feeling emboldened you lifted your hips, hovering over him for your hand to slot in between your bodies, cupping his erection firmly. He stiffened under your grasp, his breath hitching and you took that moment to drag your tongue along his, teasing him as you slowly started to stroke him above his slacks. He felt thick and rigid between your fingers, pulsing erratically against your hold, and he broke away from your mouth, head falling back as a loud, drawn-out groan slipped from his throat. You gazed at him – eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted as he breathed shallowly – and took a mental picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. He looked gorgeous, basking in pleasure and you wanted to pleasure him more. It was an urge so strong you practically dived on him, mouth slamming into his. He soon gained his bearings, kissing you just as wildly as his hands groped your body.

“Do you – mm, do you want – mm – to take this upstairs?” He asked against your lips, fingers currently digging into the soft flesh of your ass. The veins in his neck were visible, his desperation for you obvious, and you pulled away from the kiss to nod rapidly. If he didn’t get you upstairs soon you’d surely explode.

You let out a little squeak as you suddenly found yourself in the air, safely held up by Seokjin. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he began to make the brisk walk to the hallway and towards the staircase. “Oh, my god,” you muttered, laughing as you realised he was about to carry you bridal style all the way up the stairs.

“What?” He laughed back, his eyes twinkling warmly. Your heart melted at the sight and you leaned in to kiss him, uncaring that you both may fall backwards and break your necks.

“I may have forgotten about the amount of stairs in this goddamn house,” he panted lightly once you’d made it past the first set.

“Put me down then,” you giggled.

“Never,” he sang out, pecking you on the mouth sweetly.

Once in his bedroom, he placed you down, closing the door behind you before caging you against it, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you for months. You keened into his touch, whole body hot and ready for him, but in the end you couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He’d never kissed you like this, he was a man possessed, you physically felt weak at the knees and you clung to him, moaning softly when his mouth fell to your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he confessed against the wet skin, fresh waves of arousal washing through your body. His voice was an octave lower, gruff and nothing like you’d heard before. “I can’t contain myself knowing we’re going to be alone for a whole week.”

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You laughed weakly, but to be honest, the time for wisecracks were gone. You were hanging on by a thread, this close to begging him to tear your clothes off.

Cupping your neck he pulled away to look you in the face. His pupils were blown out, more black than the warm brown you were used to. The tops of his cheeks were tinged red, his own arousal very evident, and when he replied he sounded as sincere as ever. “Anything you want me to.”

Okay, if he carried on like this, he’d mess up your plan good and proper. He was rude. Very rude. And hot, and sexy, and yours. God, you really wanted him. Your body was screaming for him. You pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then another, and another, determined not to get yourself glued there no matter how much he tried to drag his tongue along the seam of your lips. “L-let me freshen up,” you managed to get out, voice shaky as you (with great difficultly) held him away at arm’s length.

At your words, he slowly made sense of them, his eyes refocussing before he gave you a short nod and politely stepped back. “Ok.”

Before you could be tempted by that mouth of his once more, you made a dash for his bathroom, closing the door behind you. Immediately you began to rush out of your clothes, not even bothering to fold them properly because you were in such a hurry. You’d had this planned all night, wanting him to be rendered speechless, and staring at your lingerie cladded self in the giant mirror he had hooked to the wall, you reminded yourself to take a breather. You were going to walk out there calmly, the epitome of composed as you sought out his reaction. With one last look at your reflection, you walked towards the door and opened it.

Seokjin was sat on the edge of the bed, legs sinfully spread (but oh so casually, which just made it hotter), but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes darting around the room a little as if he was desperately trying to find some patience. Knowing he was riled and aroused made your head even more dizzy, and stopping by the doorframe, you called out to him.

He looked your way instantly, eyes bulging even quicker. Actually they practically popped out on storks as he took in the sight of you in the baby blue underwear. He seemed paralysed.

“Hey,” you smiled, all of a sudden feeling a little shy as you waited for him to say something.

It took another moment, but then he was swallowing hard, wetting his mouth as his lips parted. “Oh, shit.”

You smiled victoriously, those simple two words satisfying you fully.

He outstretched his hand, voice thick and raspy as he beckoned you forward. “Come here.”

You obeyed, closing the distance between you quickly and Seokjin wasted no time clasping his hands around your hips as you stood in front of him, between his legs. If felt so good to finally have his hands on your bare skin. His touch was warm, soothing, but most of all, electrifying. Goosebumps spread as he dragged his fingers up and down your sides, his eyes drowning at the sight of you.

“Do you like it? It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at him. You glowed under his gaze.

He lifted his head up, arching an eyebrow. “Do I like it? Is that supposed to be a genuine question?” He sounded just as baffled as he looked and it made you giggle. His fingers started to play with the thin waistband of your panties before delicately outlining the lace flower petals on your ass. The sensation made you shiver, and a small smile grew on his face as he watched you. “You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, beginning to place small, gentle kisses on your abdomen and your skin rippled, butterflies appearing. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, hot puffs of air hitting you, heating you up even more.

You curled your hand in his hair, needing something to latch on to as you watched him mouth even more kisses along your flesh. The point of his tongue dipped into your navel scandalously, and as you gasped he looked up with his eyes and smirked, tongue now swirling invisible patterns along your stomach. The sight sent you a little gooey, legs feeling weak again as your heart thrummed inside your chest.

“However… I was looking forward to undressing you…” He teased.

You teased right back. “You still have the lingerie.”

He couldn’t handle that, growling quietly against your stomach, his hands rounding your ass to mould the flesh in his palms firmly. He’d soon tear the panties if he kept that up. Obviously the idea of stripping you naked sent him feral – something you’d remember well for this week. You yelped when you felt him sink his teeth into your hip bone, pulling him closer to your body by his hair, desperate for more. It was when you looked behind him, did you notice the pillar candles aflame on the two nightstands that sat either side of his bed. They weren’t burning before you’d entered the bathroom. You were sure of it.

“Seokjin, did you light candles?” You asked without realising, changing the atmosphere slightly, but you didn’t mind too much, not when the image of Seokjin rushing to burn candles for the ~ambience~ was too damn adorable.

He lifted from your skin, looking up at you. “Um, yeah.” He sounded a little awkward before he chuckled softly. “I thought against the slow R&B music.”

“Good choice,” you laughed, fingers rubbing small circles into the nape of his neck. That would’ve been hilarious.

“I’m totally out of my depth here…” He admitted, nudging you backwards a little to stand in front of you. He kept his hands on your waist, ducking down to be eye level with you. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Snap,” you grinned, rubbing your nose against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You kissed him deeply, feeling happy and relaxed. There wasn’t a nerve in sight and despite his honest words you knew he was at ease too.

Your hands slipped over his shoulders and down his toned chest, stopping just before the waistband of his pants to tug at his t-shirt, untucking him. “You have to get naked too.” You whined, detaching your mouths. “I’m feeling sorely underdressed.”

He let out an airy chuckle, immediately reaching for the neck of his shirt to tug it over his head. Your hands greedily started to explore his torso, running your fingers along his faintly lined abs before trailing up his hard chest. He shivered as you brushed against his nipples, a tiny laugh slipping from his throat.

“What?” You laughed.

“’Tickles.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, loving the feeling of his bare chest against yours, but soon enough you got impatient again, hands reaching for the button of his pants. You popped it open and proceeded to unzip him, at least giving his poor erection some reprieve. It had been pressed up against your lower stomach for quite some time, still rigid but as patient as ever.

He took over, stepping back to push them past his hips, his lips still attached to yours. “Mm–Bed.” He hummed, taking you by the hips to switch places. You pulled away and sat down, watching him kick his pants off his feet and your eyes zoned in on the curve of his erection, hidden by his Armani underwear – black with a red waistband. His thighs were perfectly toned, his skim glowing in the soft lighting. He looked good enough to eat and your heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked forward.

You laid back against the mattress, instantly groaning at how soft it was. You practically sunk inside. “Oh, damn this is comfy.” Rolling onto your side as Seokjin climbed on the bed, you hid your smirk. “I could just go to sleep…”

“I don’t think so,” he told you, hovering over you. His hand smacked you ass causing you to squeal, and you flipped onto your back as he took the moment to cage you under his large body.

This time his mouth completely bypassed your lips to kiss your chest, pressing into the indents of your collarbones before slipping to the tops of your breasts. He kissed the fabric, wetting it as his tongue traced the delicate flower petals and you gripped onto his shoulders with a moan as he encased one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, soaking the lace a darker shade of blue. “You drive me crazy,” he quietly panted, his hands reaching behind your back, arched into the pleasure he was giving you. “May I?” He asked, fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You nodded hastily, moaning louder when he lifted his head to kiss your lips. His motions were firm, tight pleasure filled grunts leaving him as he freed you of your lingerie.

Immediately he pulled away, dark eyes soaking in your bare chest like it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Your back arched further when his warm palms cupped your breasts, spreading a heat down your spine that settled between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he awed, looking into your eyes, causing a sweet moan to fall from your lips.

He moulded the soft flesh gently, before brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. That had you moaning again, pleasure you hadn’t felt in a long time rocketing up your body. It felt amazing to be touched by him, and you were greedy for more. He was on the same page, his lips replacing his thumbs, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud that had you sighing out his name, your fingers threaded in his hair. He hummed against you, squeezing your breasts and pressing his body into yours – once – his erection pressing into your thighs, before he pulled away, kissing down your sternum before licking into your navel, his hands rubbing up and down the outside of your thighs.

His lips avoided your clothed heat, which was frustrating to say the least. You were so eager by now, unsure if you could take much more kissing before you exploded, but Seokjin was a man determined – determined on kissing every inch of your body it seemed. He made it down one thigh before moving onto the next and as he got towards your knee you couldn’t help but giggle – it was beginning to tickle, but he didn’t stop, lips pressing down your calf.

“Seokjinn,” you whined.

He chuckled as he made his way back up the other leg, bending you at the knee before gently getting you to spread out for him. “What?” He murmured. Although you were distracted now, realising how aroused you had become, your underwear clinging to you desperately. He was kissing the inside of your thigh now, fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and he was so close to where you wanted him you were trembling. He nosed his way to the apex of your thigh, groaning as he smelt you and then he was hastily tugging the lace down your legs, the last of your covering. Now you were totally naked in front of him, and he looked like he wanted to eat you up.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, voice gruff. He sounded so sexy. His eyes were glued to your centre yet he didn’t touch. When you didn’t reply, they flickered to your face. “Y/N. Hm?”

You mind was a blur, you couldn’t think what to say, mainly because you wanted him to do anything and everything to you. You startled when he nosed the inside of your thigh, his hands sliding down your hips to grip the flesh underneath. “Taste you? Is that what you want?” He whispered, sending your insides somersaulting. He looked up as you nodded, and grinned. “You have to say it out loud, honey.”

The bastard. He was teasing you. Trying to get under your skin. Your forced yourself to speak. “Taste me.” He hummed in response, pressing his mouth to your hip bone. You raised your tone, more determined. “Seokjin. Taste me.”

He dived in. Placing gentle kisses up your slit, his lips ever so slightly brushing your clitoris. You moaned quietly, letting your eyes close as you laid back against the softest pillows you had ever felt. Your fists clutched the sheets, hips raising up when you felt the first wash of his tongue. Your breath caught, warmth turning you gooey. “Taste so good,” he mumbled into you – so quietly you wondered if you’d imagined it.

You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, quietly moaning intermittently before you felt the urge to take a peek. Opening your eyes and looking down your body, you saw Seokjin watching you, his eyes hungry. You quickly looked away, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as a groan left you, your legs falling wider apart. The scene had been erotic but in all honesty you were feeling a little shy. It had been a long time since you’d had sex, so the idea of someone watching you so intimately made you feel funny.

Seokjin was there to reassure you though. “Don’t look away, Y/N,” he murmured, pulling back to get your attention. “I want to see your face.” You looked again, watching him kneel low as he ran a hand up your thigh. His lips shone with your arousal. He looked beautiful.

You moaned lowly when you felt him rub a finger at your entrance, and he watched you intently as he pushed inside, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. He slowly began to curve the digit, pressing against your inner walls. Committed to pleasuring you, he watched your every reaction and this time you didn’t look away.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, in awe as you writhed around on the bed, chasing the feeling.

You moaned as you replied yes, only to jerk upwards when his thumb began to rub tiny circles against your clit. “Seokjin!”

He liked that. Hearing you cry his name. He wanted to hear it more, dropping low to replace his thumb with his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of nerves between them, flicking the tip of his tongue against it rapidly, earning him another cry, and he moaned gruffly against you, the vibrations shooting up your body. His free hand moved to your lower stomach, palm hot against your skin as he applied gentle pressure, holding you down.

Oh god, you were a mass of pleasure, mind addled, unable to think straight. Not when he was making you feel so good. He slipped a second finger inside of you, his eyes flicking up to yours and you made it your life’s mission not to look away, chest heaving up and down as you squeezed around his digits. Your orgasm was building, pressure below getting harder to control – harder to ignore. Seokjin guessed it, breaking eye contact to bury his face further into your heat. The image was almost crude, so were the noises, but the most beautiful kind of crude. A crude that had you desperate for more. You jerked into him, rolling into each snap of his wrist, the pads of his fingers grazing your g-spot.

“Want to make you cum,” he rasped, before sucking your clit back into his mouth and sucking determinedly. You groaned, head flinging back into the pillow, eyes clenched closed, a hand coming out to grip the roots of your hair as you rolled your hips into his face, giving into the pleasure well and truly. This orgasm was going to blow your brains out – and it did.

In the end you had you to clamp your legs around Seokjin’s head in a bid to get him to stop, pleasure still rolling through your body as you panted like crazy. He eased from your clit, tongue dragging down your folds instead, meeting his fingers that were almost locked inside of your pulsing walls. With a grunt, he removed himself, kissing your mound one last time before he stopped. With his hands on your thighs as he kneeled between them, he watched you adoringly.

“Oh, my god,” you panted weakly. Unsure what else you could say to describe what you’d just experienced. Why had he not been doing that from the get-go? From as soon as he’d reversed into your car?!

That was all he needed anyway, your simple vocalisation, because no sooner had the words exited your mouth, he dived on you, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead – whatever he could reach. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness. You could taste yourself on him. It was glorious. His hands roamed your body like it was all new to him. As if he hadn’t been it for the last forty minutes or so. “Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.”

Your stomach flipped around, the sound of him cursing sending you dizzy. You licked into his mouth, kissing him messily, your hands raking up and down his back, before they settled on his ass. You gave the meat a squeeze and he grunted, pushing his crotch into yours. He was painfully hard – and desperate. (You hadn’t missed the way he’d been rutting into the mattress while going down on you…)

“Seokjin,” you breathed, moving your head to the side to get your words out. His tongue carried on going, swirling across your cheek. You liked getting messy with him. You tugged at his underwear. “Get naked. Need you.”

“You don’t need a minute?” He asked, tongue now in your ear. He gyrated his hips into yours, grunting as he did so.

You shook your head. “Like hell I do.”

He laughed at that – breathlessly, but it was something. He moved, rushing out of the last bit of clothing he had on, and your eyes drunk up the sight. The missing piece. His dick was long and thick – smooth and warm once you got your hands on him. Hovering over you, you ran your fist up and down him steadily, just enjoying getting to touch him. He dropped to your side, pecking your lips before he pulled back. “I need to be inside you.”

You continued to touch him, running your fingers along the rigid flesh as he stretched behind him to pull a box from the nightstand drawer.

It caught your attention right away. You raised both eyebrows as you let go of his length. “A hundred condoms?”

He chuckled, sounding a little sheepish. “Too enthusiastic?”

“Do you want to kill me?” Death by (Dilf) dick wasn’t how you’d expected to go, if you were being honest.

“Not particularly,” he shrugged, pulling one of the packet. (Discarding the box to the floor.) He turned back to you with an impish grin. “That’s why I bought the bumper pack of condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, but he grabbed your hand and kissed you, distracting you successfully. “No, if I’m being truthful,” he continued, letting you steal another kiss. “They were better value for money. I’m partial to a bargain.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed.

“You should’ve seen me purchasing them, I have never been more embarrassed in my life.”

“Seokjin, you’re a near 40 year old man,” you judged openly, however on second thoughts – “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed buying a 100 condoms too.”

Seokjin shuddered, looking mortified. “Just the thought of the cashier knowing I was going to get lucky…”

You arched an eyebrow. “Get lucky?”

He looked comically caught out, eyes wide for a second before he shook his head. “Less talking now…” And then he was kissing you again…

Between rushed mouths and eager hands, he managed to tear the condom packet, pulling out the latex to slip it over his erection. Kneeling over you, you could see perfectly when he attempted to roll it the wrong way up. “Oh, shit. Ignore that,” he muttered, fixing it immediately.

You stifled a laugh. “Ignored.”

He gave himself a tug, making sure everything was secure and your mouth practically watered. “Just warning you now, this may be a three pumps and Bam! kinda thing,” he informed you as he laid over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I am so turned on.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t mind. Just want you.”

“I want you more.” He rubbed his nose against yours.

Hitting his ass, you shot him a look. “It’s not a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” He asked, pretending to be confused.

“Quit stalling,” you whined. “Let’s have sex.”

“Let’s,” he agreed with a warm smile. You turned gooey instantly.

Pressing his knees to the mattress, he hovered over you, wrapping his hand around his dick to direct it between your legs. He rubbed the length up and down your slit, flesh heavy and hot, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation was good for you, but for him it seemed to blow his mind, eyes practically rolling back into his skull as he grunted. He stopped at your entrance, looking up at you as he slowly pushed the head inside.

You shifted under him, trying to stay patient. You wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of him, but realistically you needed to take things slow. You held onto his shoulders, silently telling him to continue. He let out a strained groan as he slipped in deeper, your walls snug and hot around him, begging him for more. Inch by glorious inch, you kept on taking him, until you were filled up just right.

“Shit,” you uttered, looking up at the ceiling as you adjusted to the sensation.

“Was that a curse?” He asked, voice tight but greatly amused as he nosed your throat.

“Hardly.” Your voice was barely there, desperate for him to move.

“I’d still class it as swearing.” He was holding his breath, yet still felt the need to be a smarty-pants. You moved your hips practically a centimetre and he grunted. He didn’t want you to win though. “I want more. Maybe not tonight, but I will turn your mouth filthy by the end of the week…”

A moan tore from your throat uncontrollably, and you couldn’t look at his face because you knew you’d be met with a gloating smirk. You steeled yourself, nose in the air. “Game on.”

Seokjin laughed obnoxiously, but couldn’t wait any longer, slowly dragging out of you and then pushing back in. His breath hitched – so did yours, and he carried on, propping himself up with one hand as he gained a steady rhythm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, watching your face.

“You too.” You clung to him, feeling your face heat up and ended up dropping your gaze.

“Honey, don’t be shy,” he whined, reaching to cup your face, in the process pressing more of his body weight into you. You clutched him tighter, wanting him as close as ever. “I like watching you. Knowing I’m making you feel good.” His mouth on yours now, you sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as his thrusts got quicker. You met each one, rolling into him.

It wasn’t long before he was on your throat, kissing and nipping the skin, his hands exploring the rest of your body. Your ran your fingers through his hair, sighing sweety when his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, slipping the hard flesh into his mouth to suck.

Face pressed against your chest, his movements became a little erratic, breathing heavy until he was panting. You moaned along, loving how he was making you feel. “You are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He awed, voice raspy.

You let out a weak chuckle, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Of course you would say that with a face full of my boobs.”

He laughed too, kissing his way back up your chest, his hands pressing into the pillow as he leaned in for your mouth. You stared at one another for a little while, your moans mingling together, and it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with anyone.

“Good?” He asked. You were unsure if he was asking how you were or if you were enjoying yourself, but regardless, the answer was the same.

“Really good,” you smiled, running your hand down his chest.

His thrust were getting messier, less controlled, less strategic, so it was no surprise when he had a confession to tell you, kissing you once again. “I’m-I’m… close.”

He’d exceeded the predicted three pumps at least… “Hey, you can go a little harder,” you whispered against his mouth.

He grunted, slacking at your words but quickly got a hold of himself. Each snap of his hips got firmer and harsher, fucking – because there was no other way to describe it – you into the expensive bed. Your cries of pleasure came out stunted and unsteady, his own grunts louder now, gruffer as he chased his end.

“Seokjin –!” Your hands fell to his ass, holding him tight as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop,” you encouraged, which seemed to tip him over the edge – quickly.

“Fuck. Coming…”” His face fell into the crook of your neck, panting as he tried to keep moving, and then he froze, his body hot, partly sweaty, a long drawn-out groan sounding against your ear as he came.

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him to you because in all honesty, you didn’t want to let him go. You could feel his heart beating against your chest rapidly, even after he’d partially caught his breath, and you knew yours was beating just as fast. You kissed his shoulder when he kissed yours, and slowly he lifted his head, turning to give you a drunken smile. He sighed contently. “That honestly beats any orgasm I’ve ever given myself lately.”

“I should hope so!” You burst out laughing, not quite expecting those to be his first words and he immediately joined you before hugging you tight.

You awoke naturally, light from outside peeking through the loosely closed drapes. Seokjin had his arm around you, his body curved into yours, and you could tell by his breathing he was still very much sound asleep. Proving your point, he grunted softly, rolling onto his back, his grip on you loosening. Carefully, you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of his sleeping form. His lips seemed to be pouted, eyebrows furrowed slightly – of course he had an adorable sleeping face. Of fricking course.

The bed sheets were pushed down, draped across his pelvis, one hip sticking out, while his broad chest and toned stomach laid bare. You found yourself smiling, insanely happy, wondering if you’d been a saint in a past lifetime – you had to have been. How else had you hit the jackpot? A kind-hearted, beautiful man with a banging body? You’d struck big.

Wanting to leave him sleep longer, you got up quietly, needing to pee, not worrying that you were butt naked, and as you left the bathroom, you moved to the closet (room) to fish for your phone in your purse. You’d left it there all evening yesterday, not wanting to be interrupted, and low and behold you had a bunch of notifications waiting for you on the screen. You got back into bed, getting comfy before you scrolled through them. Most were unimportant, news updates and social media notifications. You had a text from your mom reminding you to call your grandmother soon, one reminder regarding your phone bill going out tomorrow and then, from half an hour ago, a text message from your best friend. Why the hell was she up so early on a Sunday?!

Soojung (8:32am) Spill the details girl! How was Mr. Dilf 🥵👨🏻🍆💦

You snorted, pretty loudly, couldn’t help it, and when you realised you shoved a hand over your mouth, hoping you hadn’t woken your boyfriend (yes, it felt so good to finally use that word) up. You glanced over, but his eyes were still shut, a peaceful look on his face, so with a relieved inner sigh, you went back to your phone, wondering how you should reply. You had quite a lot to say, messaging her “the details” wouldn’t work. Maybe you could give her a summary? Until tomorrow when you could call her while Seokjin was at work. Maybe you could meet her for lunch. And who knew, you’d probably have more to tell her come then –

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You jumped when you heard Seokjin’s voice, his arm wrapping around you once more as he snuggled closer, encasing you in his body warmth.

“Seokjin,” you greeted, instantly shoving your phone onto the nightstand, face down. “Good morning.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, burrowing his arm under the covers to touch your skin, hand cupping your waist. He was still sleepy, voice groggy. You settled into his hold, closing your eyes. With a kiss to the top of your shoulder, he spoke again. “What were you snorting at?”

Your eyes immediately flew open. He’d heard that? “Nothing,” you tried to reply casually.

He laughed, the throaty sound shooting up your body, leaving warmth in its wake. “Come on, something made you laugh.” He lifted his head, looking at you pointedly, plump lips pressed together, mouth curving up slightly. “You have to share, it’ll be rude not to.”

It took you a second to give in. “Fine.” It was probably time to let him know anyway. Soojung might try to kill you, but she couldn’t get you if you were gated in at Seokjin’s home… You reached for your phone and flashed the screen on, holding it out to him. “Soojung’s an idiot,” you sighed.

He delicately held the back of your hand, steadying the device so he could read the messages. A second later he was deeply amused, lips quirking before he let out a little laugh. “Has that been my nickname the entire time?”

“Maybe…” Amongst other things… They could wait till later though.

He hummed, trying to keep his expression casual, but you could tell by his eyes how amused (and smug) he was. “The emojis add a nice touch.”

You rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up, but immediately his lips were pressed against yours. He kissed you sweetly – which was all just an act. When he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tone arrogant. “So… how was Mr. Dilf?”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed. This couldn’t be happening. He was just as bad as Soo and Taehyung.

Laughing loudly, he kissed you again, caging you under him smoothly. Your hands reached for his biceps, feeling them flex underneath you. “Was it good enough for a round two? Don’t expect me to keep my hands off you,” he told you, his fingers tickling your stomach as his face fell to your neck, kissing and biting the skin.

You began to laugh, squirming under him, but no matter how much you tried to free yourself it was impossible. “Stop,” you whined. “Seokjin, you’re tickling me!” He eased off with the tickling but his mouth only seemed to ramp up, his tongue licking up your throat. “You’re so sexy,” he groaned, meeting your gaze, and instantly laughed. “I love embarrassing you.”

You grumbled, realising you’d started to blush. “I’m not embarrassed,” you insisted. “I’m turned on.” Two could play at that game. Seokjin’s eyes widened comically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Yeah?” He murmured, getting a hold of himself, mouth ghosting over yours. You nodded, dragging your hands down his back to settle on his ass. You could feel his dick rousing between your thighs. It was so easy to get him. He was like putty in your hands.

“You’re okay though, mm?” He asked, tone softening as he stared into your eyes. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you informed him, but his tenderness didn’t go ignored. God, you were really lucky. “I feel so happy,” you grinned, moving to clasp your arms around his neck. He grinned too, teeth on show, and then you couldn’t hold off any longer, kissing him eagerly.

“Fuck,” he breathed, after you’d just licked a strip up his jaw line. His hands clung to hips. “I want you in so many ways.”

You gave him a dangerous smirk. “We have all week, I’m sure you’ll be successful.”

Groaning, he seemed beside himself, skin hot and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, falling into his eyes, cheeks patched red. Finally, he settled on a decision. “Would you like to shower with me?”

“Okay,” you replied instantly, your excitement already tenfold, and suddenly you were in his arms, rising off the bed to be carried (naked) bridle style to the bathroom. “Seokjin!” You squealed, clinging onto him tightly, but all he did was laugh. You could get used to this.

His walk-in shower was grand, practically a separate wet room – two glass doors leading inside and a marbled tiled bench to the left with two panelled windows behind it. There were two showerheads – one large one attached to the ceiling and the other jutting out from the wall. Seokjin chose the centre one, knocking it on and enclosing you both in hot water. Warmth radiated from beneath your feet too – heated flooring, of course.

You spent the next ten minutes wrapped together kissing, hands exploring one another’s soapy bodies. It wasn’t long before there was a very obvious erection bobbing against your stomach. “Someone says hello again,” Seokjin hummed against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before he broke away and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been the cause of many an awkward boner.”

You laughed, hooking one arm around his neck. “I noticed.” Your other hand wrapped around his dick, the wetness of his skin making it easy to glide your fist along the veiny shaft. You gazed up at him, admiring the way he’d pushed his wet hair above his forehead. He looked incredibly handsome – so handsome, you were finding it hard to control yourself. “Was this one of your ways?” You murmured.

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, huffing out a little when your thumb grazed the sensitive slit across the head of his member.

“I have a better idea…” You whispered, pushing a little at his chest. “Sit.”

He obeyed, sitting on the bench while watching you wordlessly (but curiously), his eyes flashing when you moved to kneel in front of him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dick twitching in anticipation. You took him in your fist again, feeling oddly confident as you flicked out your tongue. It had been a long time since you’d sucked dick but you were more than ready.

You washed your tongue across the head, hearing him grunt above you, and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly reached for your head, fingers carding through your hair. He groaned lowly, thighs tense, but when you started to jerk your fist along his shaft, he relaxed into the pleasure, murmuring your name.

“Okay, this idea seems better than mine,” he admitted, voice tight.

You hummed in agreement, vibrations travelling up his length which made him groan, fingers in your hair tightening. Taking him deeper, you washed and swirled your tongue as best you could around the thick flesh. Seokjin’s length was impressive, but you had all week to grow accustomed to it, for now, you had your hand, continuing to stimulate him with both that and your mouth. The water from the shower hit your back and calves, the heat beneath you making sure you didn’t grow cold.

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” Seokjin asked, sounding concerned, despite how good you were making him feel. A hand ran down your back soothingly. “Your knees will start aching.”

Pulling off him, a string of saliva that attached you breaking apart, you shook your head and ran your palm all the way up his length, twisting against the tip. He bucked into your hold. “It’ll be worth it.”

Seokjin let out a low growl, eyes dark. “Don’t say things like that.”

You smirked, spreading your saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, concentrating on the head. Seokjin’s mouth was open, his breathing shallow, chest littered with red blotches, making it painfully obvious how aroused he was. You wanted to run your hands all over the muscular torso, mouth too – but that could wait. First of all, you wanted to make him cum.

“You have a pretty big dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” You purred, eyes flicking down to his crotch.

Seokjin grinned confidently, the hand in his hair reaching to cup your cheek. “You seemed to handle it very well last night.”

Oh. Heat exploded through your body, settling between your legs, and you took him back in your mouth, a hiss leaving his throat. He tapped your chin, gaining your attention. “Y/N, look at me,” he commanded softly.

And you did. You watched every bit of pleasure that flitted across his face as you continued to suck his dick, never breaking eye contact, even when he did; eyelids closed, face scrunched up as he came down your throat a few minutes later…

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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ronsonlywhore · 3 years

Note

Hi im new in here,so i don't know exactly what you write so could you please write something like wolfstar being the readers parents with the fluffy prompts 3,13,19,34,and 39,sorrt if that was weird,i have major daddy issues and see them both as father figures,thanks for the attention and sorry again if you don't write this kinda of stuff

❛ 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲. ❜ dad!wolfstar

summary: in which (y/n) is the light in both sirius and remus's life.

prompts: fluff/ 3. "stop moving around and let me braid your hair." / 13. "oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you! quick, i need a doctor!" / 19. "you can't leave without letting me hug you first." / 34. "help! there's a spider holding me hostage over here!" / 39. "i had a nightmare...can i stay with you tonight?"

a/n: au where neither sirius nor remus dies and sirius is cleared and they live happily ever after the war with a little girl they adopted. OKAY THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE. i didn't know if you wanted like a little reader or an older reader, so i included both! thanks for requesting anon <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"(y/n)! come back here right now, you little devil!"

(y/n)'s giggles echoed throughout the house, her wet hair leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor. sirius could hear the quiet pitter-patter of her feet on the hardwood floors, and he quickly dropped a towel on the floor to clean up the mess she had made running away from him.

"(y/n)! this isn't funny!" sirius shouts into the silent house. it's quiet...too quiet.

"oh, i see...you're hiding from me are you? well, hopefully you're not hiding...behind the curtains!" he rips away the curtains enthusiastically, only to find an empty space behind them.

sirius creeps over to the closet, putting an ear to the door. he swears he can hear his five-year-old shuffling around and pulls the door open, feeling triumphant. "caught you!" he says, victorious.

his face falls when he's met with an empty space as well, and now he's starting to get worried. where could she be?

suddenly, he hears a small ah-choo! and a gasp followed by the sneeze. he smiles and drops down beside the couch. there (y/n) is, trying to hold in her giggles and wiping dust from her face.

she screams when sirius appears next to her, and laughs (the most angelic laugh sirius has ever heard) when her dad picks her up and hoists her on his shoulder.

"thought you could sneak away from me, huh?" sirius says as he sits (y/n) down and tickles her. "i just need to brush your hair before it gets all tangled."

(y/n) sighs. "i know, but you pull too much. i like it better when daddy does it. when is he coming back?"

sirius takes out the brushes and sits behind (y/n). "he'll be back today, i promise. now, sit still and let me brush your hair."

(y/n) moves away before sirius can start though, and he's starting to lose his patience. "(y/n), if you don't sit down right now, i'm not taking you to diagon alley with me. i'll just drop you off with harry while i go and have fun at fortescue's ice cream parlor," he threatens.

(y/n)'s eyes widened. she liked staying with cousin harry, but her dad was talking ice cream here, so there was no way she would let herself be hauled off to harry's while her dad got to stuff himself full with sorbets galore.

"no! i promise i'll let you brush my hair...but on one condition. you have to let me eat the last slice of cake right now. for breakfast." (y/n) crosses her tiny little arms and pulls out the puppy eyes, the puppy eyes sirius can never resist.

so how could sirius say no?

"you've got a deal, my little devil." sirius says as he shakes (y/n)'s pudgy toddler hand. she giggles, sits down obediently, and lets sirius brush through her hair, only painfully wincing twice.

later, as (y/n)'s barreling forkfuls of cake into her mouth and sirius is hastily trying to clean up her face before she messes up her shirt, the door opens, and (y/n) squeals happily. "daddy's home!"

she jumps down from her chair before sirius can say anything, and runs like mad to the front door.

remus is there, taking of his coat and grimacing as his sore muscles protest. his face is pale and and there are a few scratches running along his cheeks and neck. he hears (y/n) before he sees her, and quickly turns around to find the girl jumping into his arms.

"you're home!" she shrieks happily and tightens her hold around his neck. remus laughs and hugs back tightly. he notices frosting around her mouth and asks sternly, "and what is this, young lady?"

she smiles sheepishly and says, "it's cake! do you want some?"

sirius appears and remus turns to him. "sirius," remus starts, "you let (y/n) have cake for breakfast?"

sirius throws his hands in the air defensively. "i don't even get a hello kiss? not even a 'good morning, darling'? nothing?"

remus rolls his eyes and says grudgingly, "good morning, darling."

"that's better," sirius says as he leans in and kisses his husband's cheek. "if you must know, (y/n) and i made a deal. i let her have the cake in exchange for her letting me brush her hair. apparently, she likes it better when you do it."

remus looks back to (y/n), who's staring intently at his face. she picks up one of her little hands and places it on the cuts running from his chin to his right eye.

"what happened to your face? she asks sadly.

sirius and remus look at each other morosely. (y/n) doesn't know about remus's...condition, both men agreeing to tell her when she's older.

"just a...rough night at work, sweetheart." remus answers as he puts (y/n) down and walks over to the couch, throwing himself down on it. sirius follows him and runs a hand through his hair. (y/n) runs off into the kitchen, probably wanting to finish her cake quickly.

"was it a bad one?" sirius asks as he sits down beside remus.

remus shrugs. he always feels tired after a full moon, especially since he travels so far, as far away as he can to keep his family safe.

suddenly, (y/n) is standing next him, smiling as she dots his nose with frosting. remus laughs and picks her up again, holding her above her head. she stretches her arms in front of her, mimicking a superhero in flight, and remus "flies" her all over the living room until they hear a yelp of pain.

remus turns to see sirius doubled over, holding his chest. he quickly puts (y/n) down and hurries over to him, while (y/n) asks, "what's wrong with daddy?"

"sirius? darling, are you alright?" remus asks worriedly.

"oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you both! quick, i need a doctor!" sirius exclaims, feigning agony.

remus scoffs, grabs a pillow from the couch, and whacks his husband over the head with it. "that wasn't funny!"

sirius, rubbing his head, drawls, "oh, you wanna fight, do you? don't say i didn't warn you; you mess with the bull, you get the horns." he grabs a pillow and smacks remus's side.

remus doesn't care that he's dead tired, doesn't care if he's hungry and terribly needs a bath: he will take sirius down in this pillow fight even if it's the last thing he ever does.

(y/n) squeals and gets on the couch, jumping up and down, cheering both of them on.

after, with both pillows destoyed and feathers littering the living room (sirius definitely won, although remus would never admit that to anyone), sirius and remus flop down on the couch, preparing to doze off, when (y/n) exclaims, "but who's gonna clean this up?"

"oh...we'll worry about that later. come here, my little devil." sirius says tiredly and pulls (y/n) into his chest. remus loops an arm around sirius, and the three soundly sleep into the late hours of the evening, all interwined together.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

years later

"dad, i'm not five years old anymore. you don't have to do my hair anymore."

"stop moving around and let me braid your hair."

remus's fingers were definitely getting a bit too aged to be able to braid (y/n)'s hair with ease like he used to when she was small, but he was able to manage decent plaits to tame (y/n)'s wild hair.

both remus and (y/n) look into the mirror, and remus smiles. he places his hands on (y/n)'s shoulders and sighs wistfully, "oh...look at how much my angel's grown."

"don't start getting all sappy on me now, dad." (y/n) laughs as she shrugs off her dad's hand as she starts downstairs.

remus blocks the door way. "nuh uh. you can't leave without letting me hug you first."

(y/n) smiles and rolls her eyes, but gives in either way. she wraps her arms around her father's waist tightly, and remus can swear he's the happiest man in the world.

they pull apart when they hear glass shattering from the kitchen. remus and (y/n) rush downstairs and find sirius balancing on top of a chair, holding a pan in the air defensively. two glass cups are sitting on the counter, the third one in broken shards on the floor.

"sirius, what on earth are you doing?" remus asks as he moves into the kitchen.

"oh, good, you're here! you have to help me, there's a spider holding me hostage over here!"

(y/n) laughs. "dad, we've been through this before! all you have to do..." she trails off as she graps a cup and traps the spider in it, then takes a table mat and slides it under the cup, "is catch it, and set it free."

she places the spider on the open windowsill, and it scuttles away into the garden.

sirius precariously climbs down from chair as remus sweeps up the broken glass. "you're a lifesaver, you are," sirius says as he claps a hand on (y/n)'s back.

"that's me, full-time superhero."

. . .

sirius and remus are on the couch, watching the telly (that sirius begged to have), and almost dozing off when sirius feels a tug on his sleeve.

"dad? dad, are you awake?"

sirius groggily opens his eyes and sees his daughter staring into his face. "(y/n)," he asks, "what's wrong?"

the soft voices wake up remus as he too sits up and rubs his eyes. he takes notice of (y/n), and a worried expression crosses his face. "are you alright, sweetheart?"

(y/n) nods her head quickly and says, "everything's fine, it's just...i had a nightmare, could i sleep here with you guys?"

remus and sirius instantly scoot apart to make space for (y/n), who squeezes in between them. she's not as small as she used to, but is cozy enough as her dads close in beside her.

"remember when you were smaller and would sleep in sirius's arms?" remus asks his daughter.

she nods sleepily, "i'm far too big for that now."

remus and sirius laugh, and cuddle in closer. the scene is a sight for sore eyes, and (y/n) easily dozes off, glad she has the warmth of her dads on either side of her.

because two is always better than one, right?

#wolfstar #wolfstar imagine #dad!sirius #dad!remus #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter angst #wolfstar fluff #remus calling his daughter sweetheart😫#sirius calling his daughter 'my little devil'😫#remus x sirius #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #sirius x lupin #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black and remus lupin

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

The valley of fear ch.1

Starting off with everyone's favorite hopeless romantic

Mandatory content warnings for the whole fic: blood, gore, canon typical violence, animal death (the sisters go hunting), nsfw, Dani has questionable ideas of romance and boundaries and Anita is kinda forced to deal with that.

---

Almost a month.

Almost an uneventful month one could say, if you were to ignore being kidnapped after coming a tad too close to a town whose existence is known to no one and subsequently becoming a maid in a castle full of death and pain. Yes, all in a normal life turning event that left you staring off in the distance from time to time, only to wonder how on earth you got there. Although, surprisingly enough, Anita's time at the castle had been rather uneventful. The Steward, a woman not much older than herself who looked beyond trustworthy -though not to the staff- and was charged with arranging everyone's schedules, had assigned her to cleaning less frequented areas of the castle called home not only by a sizable staff but also by five particularly dangerous women. No need to have you lose your head on the first week, she had said while handing her the list of tasks that needed to be done.

But alas, all good things must come to an end eventually.

It's funny how the human brain takes in information at times. Anita could recall the exact seat she was in, third desk from the entrance and the chair closest to the window, when she read through her schedule for the week that was to come. She remembered sitting cross legged and with a cup of coffee in front of her. The soft chatting of other maids and staff members hanging out in the common room making for much needed background noise.

Yet she didn't exactly commit her duties to memory. Not that she necessarily had to, the piece of paper listing her shifts and tasks always in her pocket, but it was almost as if her mind had refused to memorize such ludicrous things. Up until that point, her work had been surprisingly quiet given the rarely frequented places she had to clean, but now it seemed that her "trial period" was over and she had been thrown in the den of the wolves just like any other person working in that damned castle.

"Fuck."

The word slipped past her lips in a barely audible whisper, too wary of the potential danger that comes with attracting attention, when her foot almost slipped on the last step of the ladder she was on. It was sturdy enough and didn't wobble under her weight when using it to dust the higher shelves. What wasn't sturdy however were her legs, a slight shake accompanying her every step as her nerves were ready to snap at every small noise.

Anita wasn't an idiot. After the initial shock of being all but thrown into this castle, she had enough foresight to listen to the other staff members when they were talking about their employers, either to warn her or amongst themselves. She knew to avoid standing out or the areas most frequented by the ladies when not working or to not make noise at certain hours when they were sleeping. She also knew that the library was a hellish place to work in, being so often where the youngest, and most likely to slash your face off according to half the staff, liked to lurk. Or rather, hang out and read, apparently. The mental image of someone that would spend her afternoon torturing intruders then having a family dinner that consisted in human flesh only to then cuddle up on one of the myriad of antique couches littering the library to have a read, was downright strange. It made Anita scrunch up her nose in a grimace as she grabbed the ladder to move it to the next row of bookshelves, further back where a closed storage room was tucked in between the first and second row.

Cocking her head to the side to read the worn book spines shouldn't have been as high on her priority list as it was, but stress had interesting ways to manifest itself didn't it? She was even morbidly tempted to pull out a book or two whose titles sparked her interest, but thought better of it. The selection of tomes was also rather peculiar, with the front shelves she had just finished cleaning holding a variety of books on history, politics and biology, in a somewhat logical order. This was just romance, and not good romance at that. She almost snorted at a few titles she recognized from a childhood friend's library, the sappy yet somehow atrocious contents always enough to give her a serious case of mental nausea.

Skimming through titles to see how many she could recognize proved itself a good way to calm her nerves even just the slightest bit as she moved along the bookshelf, cleaning the little bit of dust or cobwebs that had settled on the ancient wood. Some looked decades old, with outdated themes and worn out spines where the writing was barely visible. Others were surprisingly modern, titles she recognized from the occasional trip to the local bookstores in her hometown, with the glossy finish of their covers contrasting the dull colors of their older counterparts.

Anita actually did let out a snort when her eyes landed on a painfully familiar vampire novel, suspiciously tucked a little further back on a shelf close to the ground. She really did not expect her captors to be that self aware.

A slight creak from the side and light spilling into the otherwise dimly lit corridor created by the shelves got her attention away from the titles and that's when her heart sunk all the way into her stomach.

Mismatched golden eyes widened slightly when they landed on her and Anita had to stop herself from leaping backwards. Away from danger. Away from the punishment that would come at the slightest misstep.

Away from Daniela.

She kept still though, doing her best to not stumble horribly over her words when she bowed her head. "Good afternoon, my lady." It didn't come out like a deflated squeaky toy, not bad.

Why was Daniela here? It was four in the goddamn afternoon and all the ladies were sleeping at this hour. And what the hell was she doing in a storage room?

Her greeting fell on deaf ears as the redhead's lips slowly curled up in an almost mischievous smile and a few slow steps took her to Anita. She had a few inches on her, enough to be able to look down with ember eyes that resembled small flames. The warm sunlight from behind also made her hair into an orange halo that felt almost fairy tale like.

That is, if you ignored the dark crimson stains on her lips.

Anita's breath caught in her throat when two fingers grabbed her chin with a tad more force than one would expect from someone so dainty looking. She forced her muscles to lock in place and not flinch when her head got moved from side to side under Daniela's predatory yet inspecting gaze.

"Hello sweet thing," her voice was contrastingly soft and gentle, at odds with her expression nothing short of a child unwrapping presents on Christmas. "Are you one of the new ones?"

It took a moment for her to fully catch up with the fact that she was supposed to answer, having focused on forcing her body not to run away. Not that she could, with how Daniela was hovering over her, too close for comfort and blocking any possible way to escape. Her thoughts scrambled for a second trying to fish out a reply from the puddle that her brain had become and her voice came a tad too close to failing her completely.

"I- I got here last month. I was assigned to clean the southern wing."

A my lady should have probably been added at the end, but Anita realized that a second too late. Fortunately for her, Daniela seemed more preoccupied with sizing her up than caring for formalities at the moment. She tsk-ed and shook her head in an almost sorrowful manner that made Anita flinch, thinking she had messed up and was about to have the hooked blade of a sickle dragged across her skin. Not that that would be unusual, with the maids she had seen come in after a shift with bleeding cuts, some of which she herself had helped bandage.

No pain ever came however, as Daniela's fingers simply shifted from her chin and into an oddly gentle caress on her cheek. "My my, Alexandria kept you kidden for so long? That simply won't do, you're too much of a pretty face to be locked in those dusty old rooms."

Actually, they weren't dusty at all, every part of the castle kept in top condition, just like Lady Dimitrescu expected of them. Not that she had the guts to correct her on that.

Then, blood stained lips split into a cheerful grin that could only belong to someone about to deliver wonderful news. "I'll take care of that," she said with a giggle and Anita wanted anything but knowing what she meant by that.

"Do you read?" The redhead changed the subject then, moving away just enough to scan the books behind Anita with a hum.

What kind of question even was that? Was she asking whether or not she knew how to read, as if she was still frozen in an era when only a select few could afford even the most basic of education? Surely she must've been aware of how the world had changed outside the little bubble that was the Village. The question of how old the ladies really were came to the forefront of her mind, choosing to play it somewhat safe.

"I… can read, yes."

At that Daniela stopped mid pulling out a book from its place and turned to her, one eyebrow raised in a beyond amused expression. "Obviously," she half said half laughed at the apparently dumb answer. "I meant what you like to read."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Strike one, she thought. What answer would even satisfy Daniela, if there even was something that she would find pleasing enough. She didn't exactly have time to think about and elaborate something either, so she just hoped the truth would be good enough.

"I like a good mystery."

The redhead seemed to ponder over the reply for a moment, gloved fingers drumming over the cover of the novel she had picked out. Her eyes narrowed briefly, but in the end the genre choice seemed acceptable enough, for when her attention turned on Anita so did the hand that was on her cheek moments ago.

"A clever one huh? At least for the most part. Well, I'll see you around."

Daniela left her with a parting sickly sweet smile and went back the way she came from, reentering what she had previously assumed was a storage room, but the window visible from where she stood would beg to differ. And with a click of the lock, Anita was once again alone in the library.

She didn't have much time to settle her nerves though because not even five seconds later, one of the doors opened and her breath caught in her throat all over again, fully expecting one of the other ladies to come by, with a far less merciful outcome.

"Anita?"

Dalia's voice, the head chambermaid, felt like music to her ears. She let out a long sigh of relief and poked her head from behind the shelves to answer the older woman.

"Yes?"

"Ah there you are," Dalia said upon noticing her. "I just wanted to let you know that the seamstress got a new shipment of uniforms this morning. There should be a pair of shoes in your size too so pass by her office after your shift."

Anita was suddenly reminded of the shoes two sizes too big that she was currently wearing, that had caused her to stumble multiple times already, and was glad that at least one little thing in this shitshow went in her favor.

"Will do. Thank you."

With a nod, the older woman exited the library, leaving the ornate door slightly ajar just like she had found it. The rest of her shift went by in a blur, hurriedly cleaning that side of the room and tensing up at any small noise, afraid that Daniela may come out again and finish the job of sending her to her grave. She never did though, and two hours went by, the library now free of dust or cobwebs, floor mopped and various items and cushions put in place.

She let out a breath that felt stuck in her lungs for entirely too long once her task had been done and the door closed behind her with a click. There was a small part of her that hoped there would be some time before being assigned this job again.

A bigger, more realistic, part of her knew better than to hope.

Especially with the eerie feeling of being watched that followed her almost everywhere from that day on.

#daniela dimitrescu x maiden #resident evil village #fanfics #tvof

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