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bewarethewolfarmy · 6 months

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Music To Bring Us Together

(This one was on my mind for a while (yes a certain fic of mine has a twin of sorts to this...) sooo yeah it just took a while to write it actually up.

If anyone wants a steamy followup to this particular chapter then say so and maybe i'll gather my spoons Oh and I've decided to call this kind of series The Phantom and his Songbird so enjoy:

A Celebration for Two

Things Better Left Unshared )

If asked separately both Erik's and your answer to what your favorite time of the week was, it would be the same: it was when you had the chance to get away from everything at the opera and had time to go spend the night with the lonely ghost that lived below the operahouse. He lived for those times, unable to stand the fact that he still could not simply always be with his beloved, to hold and shower you in affection and attention constantly, but he had even in small bits learned his lesson from before and he would not dare do anything that could even possibly make him lose you. He would wait, impatiently, and watch and admire you from afar despite wanting to do so far more personally, and when the time came he'd appear and whisk you away and the smile you'd wear on your face would send his heart a flutter to think that there really was someone who enjoyed his company and didn't fear his face. Could he truly believe it? Of course not, he still expected some trick, some lie or deceit of how this was not real, could not be real, and that you truly did fear and hate him for all he was, had done and could be. The gentleness of your tone and kiss to try and reassure him calmed the voices within for a time but never enough; he needed you by his side always and how you wished you could be but you did love the Opera Populaire for what it was and could be, almost as much as you loved it's resident Phantom.

Today was one such day; a break in rehearsals and you slipped away to that small side room, knowing that any second the secret passage would open and Erik would appear. You could always go down yourself, how many times had you walked it to the being able to do so in your sleep if necessary, but you knew how much the man loved to be able to whisk you away and who were you to ruin that for him? The Phantom, still spoken of in terrified whispers and hunted by those who knew and remembered, had so few joys as far as you could tell, things that truly could bring him happiness and peace in his admittedly lonely existence; to take this one away was far too cruel to you and thus you would not. Part of you wished instead that you could do more.

You had only been waiting for a fraction of time when there came the familiar sound of the hidden doorway opening and familiar touch upon your hand. Some days he grabbed you so fast and hard you could practically taste his desperation and need for closeness but this was not one of those days. His touch was light, almost hesitant, and you knew exactly what to do: you smiled and moved your hand to entwine your fingers in his, your tone soft and happy as you spoke, “Erik.”

“Songbird,” he responded and you were pulled close into a tight hug; you were surrounded by the scent of roses and old paper, ivory and water and wood.

And yarn; you could feel a familiar scarf against your face and could not help but smile brighter. Since you'd given it to him for your shared birthday he become stuck between wanting to constantly wear it and treating it like some precious treasure bestowed upon him by a god. Which you supposed made some sense considering his feelings about you. You of course were happiest seeing him wear it, able to see him enjoying your little present and know you had done well in making it for him. It added a little color to his darkness, a light for the man sometimes lost to the shadows but a man who nevertheless you loved dearly.

“Shall we go down to the lair now?” As much as you loved being in his arms, and you truly did, the secrecy of his hideaway under the operahouse gave you both the space and ability to do more than this small room ever could.

The fact you would ask brought a shiver of delight to him and a smile to those ruined lips of his. It was like a puppy being offered a walk in the park by it's master, an apt enough comparison considering how he reacted to you. Luckily you liked that in him, the excitement he seemed to get from the acceptance you gave and the lack of fear you had for him.

He moved with the swiftness and ease of exactly what he was and the two of you were soon off, practically gliding over steps to go down, down, down deep below, into catacombs, into an abyss lit only by candlelight, past traps that were sent not to harm you but to prevent any from following, to an all too familiar lake. You settled into your seat upon the boat and watched him, unable to resist a smile at how he looked as he rowed you both across.

Once, near the beginning of this love you had found yourself in, you had offered to help only to see the strangest look of shock to cross his face. He had refused so verehemently you at first had been hurt before it had come out that rather he couldn't imagine making you do such a thing, that it was in his mind only right he do so for you and that you need only relax. The fact you had been hurt by his refusal even for a second had left him devestated in such a way that required quite a bit of cuddling and hair stroking and reassurance. It was one of those things you found both funny and adorable about Erik: he, the Phantom, terror of the Opera Populaire, murderer and genius, could be so full of confidence and self-importance yet so easily fall to the deeps of despair and terror with the simplicity of love. The complexity of his character was fascinating and endearing, making you unable to tear your eyes away at times when the layers started to show.

The trip across was like that, full of you watching him, adoring his figure as again he looked more the imposing Phantom than the lovesick puppy, though every time he caught you staring with your adoring gaze, his face turned red behind his mask and you only continued to smile knowing it. His eyes would widen, it was hard to miss as someone who so often looked at him, watched him. He brought you to shore without a word though you were sure his mind had a thousand and one things he wished to say to you, sing to you, beg of you.

Erik stepped out first and like the gentleman he really was he offered his hand to help you step out of the boat. This too was something you could do on your own, as easily remembered as every other step of this trip, and again it was something you would never try to take from your phantom. You placed your hand in his and saw him smile so brightly and happily; you stepped off the boat and into his arms once more. Any chance he had he seemed to take in hugging you, holding you, as if afraid that if he didn't keep doing it you might prove to be an illusion, a dream he conjured up from nothing to replace the dark and painful memories of his love for Christine Daae. You of course were indeed real and warm and loved him even knowing what had happened, what he had done. Because behind the rumors and stories and fears, you had found a man who was desperate for love yet never knew how quite to get it or give it healthily.

After he seemed convinced for the moment that you did care and would be going nowhere, Erik led you into the house proper and you sat in the sitting room, watching as he went back to being the adorable Erik that you knew and adored. His fluttering around, muttering about how best to please you, what he would do for you, what kind of food he should make, what kind of music he should play. Part of you was half tempted to tell him to just sit down with you so you could cuddle for a while; he always seemed to like that as did you, though if it went on for too long he would start to cry and weep about how he was not worthy of such softness, of how he was a monster and you were a sweet songbird, that he was something even his own mother could not love so how could you? You did not mind reassuring him of course, it was normal enough for you both at this point and being able to give your sweet traumatized Erik some love and reassurance was something you were happy to be able to do. But tonight, tonight you wished for something different.

You smiled as he made another pass across your path and you spoke up, making sure to be heard, “Erik, I do have a request.”

This immediately stopped him in his tracks and he turned to you, wide eyed, before falling to his knees before you. Requests from you were rather rare; you did not often ask much of him, because he always had hundreds of ideas and plans, because you knew he liked having some control in his life and this was an easy one, because you did not like to impose or possibly trouble him. But he jumped at any request you did make and fumbled to take your hands in his, staring right into your soul it seemed.

“Your Erik is listening, anything my songbird wants, I will give you; just ask and it will be done.” He didn't slip entirely into third person which was a good thing in your book; his emotions sometimes got so overwhelming he couldn't help it and you didn't mind but you didn't want to overwhelm him today.

You squeezed his hands with another smile. “I wish for you to teach me to play something”

He seemed taken aback, blinking a few times and staring at you in confusion. But of course, you were a songbird, a singer, and that was all you truly really ever asked to be; you liked to be part of the choir, to let the music fill your lungs and fill the air. You'd never before expressed an interest in learning more than that but you had listened to him play so many instruments, he loved to show off to you like a peacock shows off it's feathers to a potential mate, and you found yourself curious to try. No, you were more curious to be able to try to play alongside him one day; you may never reach the level of a natural talent like his but you wanted to at least try.

“You...you wish to learn an instrument?” He asked his words slow and measured.

You nodded and he let go of you so quick you felt you might get whiplash. Especially as he quickly ran from the room like his cloak was on fire. The speed with which he moved, grabbing case after case from another room and placing them all on the coffee table before you was honestly both a bit shocking and very amusing. You had a pile of them soon enough, of slightly different sizes and shapes, but you recognized them all as instrument cases; you tried not to giggle or laugh as he continued this until you had so many to choose from it was a bit silly. And finally he stood still, breathing hard and looking at you expectedly, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement and energy.

“Which would you like, songbird? Your Erik can you teach any instrument, Erik is very good at all of them, Erik is a master of them and Erik would love to be able to teach you, just please tell Erik which you want please please please?” Oh no now he was completely into third person.

You stood up and gently took his face in his hands, careful not to upset his mask since it would help him ground a bit better. “Breathe, my angel, please. I already know which instrument I want to play but if you're going to teach me then I need you to breathe and not panic so, alright?”

He whimpered, a good whimper, maybe too good of one; he shuffled on his feet and closed his eyes at your touch before nodding. You would take it and smiled before kissing him lightly upon the lips. It was hard to resist such a good boy.

“Which...which one does...do you want Er...me to teach you?” he asked, trying his hardest to pull himself together, you could see it; he bit his lip and looked at you with such expectation and love it made your heart flutter. How could one man be so precious and so adorable and so dangerous all at once?

You smiled again and pulled away from him, the whine he gave was not a happy one but he did not hold you back; you leaned down to the table and gently pulled from it one case in particular, opening it to reveal a beautifully crafted violin. His eyes widened at your choice and you did not need to ask to know why; you had heard all the stories, all the legends. Knew that Christine Daae's father was a known violinist, that Erik had once used that knowledge and that violin to try to entrance her in the graveyard after the disasters before. And thus there was a shadow that clung to it, so much so that while you knew he had it, you had never heard him play it; you supposed it held too much of a memory of his failures, of his darker side, that he had been too afraid.

You were not though. Gently, reverently, you removed the instrument from it's casing and took up the bow with one hand. It felt cold in your hands and heavier than you expected but you refused to back down now from your choice. You turned your gaze back to him, still smiling, still hopeful as you spoke, “I wish you to teach me this one, Erik.”

“I...” he seemed to be in some shock but at least he stayed in first person; he opened his mouth only to shut it again, emotions running across his face at incredible speeds.

He cleared his throat, tried to collect himself, and attempted to speak again, “Are you sure? There are better ones I can teach you.”

You both knew that was a lie. Few were as beautiful as a violin when played right; only the piano and organ were more precious and close to his soul as that violin. But memories were a terrible thing and there were things Erik still never did that you suspected were from that terrible, terrible experience.

You were resilent though and stubborn, shaking your head. “I really wish to learn the violin, please Erik? I couldn't imagine learning from anyone else, for who else could possibly be as good as you are at playing it. And I have heard such beautiful things when a violin and piano play together by those whose skill are no doubt less than your own and so surely with your instruction...” You were not playing fair with him. He could be fluttery and excitable and oh so absolutely adorable and lovable with you but you knew there was a pride there and a part of him that did wish so terribly to be able to teach you. And here you were, tantalizing him on both regards, drawing on those parts of him in hopes of getting what you wanted. You could see in his expression the fight between doing so, allowing his pride to win out or his fear.

“But,” he said in a voice no louder than a whisper, a fearful small thing and you were reminded how sensitive your phantom truly could be.

It hurt you and you lowered the instrument, approaching him. “Oh Erik, sweet angel, I truly wish to learn but I don't wish to cause you actual distress, I promise.”

He looked up at you and your eyes met; you smiled gently at him, lovingly, and he bit a ruined lip. You wanted this, you truly did and you wanted it to be the violin but if it really was so hard on him to teach you, if pushing it would only hurt him more, you supposed you would need to let it be. Because it wasn't worth harming the man you loved so much.

Finally a sigh left him and he shook his head. “No, my wonderful songbird, I...I will teach you. Your Erik will do anything my songbird wishes of me.”

A smile formed on his face and you felt your heart swell with how cute it made him. Any expression of happiness was always a good one to you and you nodded, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, mon ange.”

Erik's heart fluttered at the kiss and his smile grew before he cleared his throat again. “Now let's see about your stance.”

You did not expect so much touching yet one he took a deep breath to compose himself his hands moved along your body, adjusting it, moving your arm, your head, the instrument so that it was cradled just right, that your fingers were in the right positions. Your skin heated up as he placed his hands on your waist and commanded, not asked, you to play. “A few notes, just to start.”

You did as instructed and only got in a few before he clicked his tongue and stopped you, readjusting you slightly. “No no no, relax, let the music fill you like when you sing. But instead you make the violin sing for you; caress it, feel it, the bow is an extension of your body, not simply a tool. Now again.”

Again you tried and felt his hands on you. They were warm, even through your dress, and your heart pounded hearing his breathing in your ear. You knew you were far from perfect, this being your first time, but it was better than you expected, because he had made sure of it. But it was strange to you; learning was something you had asked for, wanted, and you knew he could be passionate about teaching, something you always had been able to gently dissauage in him when it came to your singing. But perhaps the closeness, the actual physical contact, made this feel all the different, and you couldn't help but think as well how warm his breath was and strong his grip and how you wished to obey that smooth, alluring, commanding voice. So different than your Erik, your sweet and often self conscious angel, your excitable and loveable man, who slipped into third person at the smallest embarrassment or flustering, who smiled so geniunely and clung and loved with such intensity but not like this. His intensity was normally of desperation and love; this was passion of a different nature and it made heat build up within your heart like a fire you were not sure you wished to have extinguished. It felt both wonderous and a bit strange.

He nodded behind you, making pleased noises that only made it worse inside you. “Good good, much better. Though you still are far too tense.”

He placed a hand over yours holding the bow and closed his eyes. “You know how it feels to become one with the music, I know you do, songbird, just translate that to this.”

You certainly tried. You tried to take a deep breath, to forget he was there, that he was touching you, that he was so close. To focus on the notes, the violin, the music; get a feel for each note, what it was like, what it felt like, which was which and how they sounded together and in sequence. But Erik was a horrible distraction and you could not focus with his hands on you.

“Erik,” you muttered and this seemed to be to no avail; perhaps he was too far into his own mind, the Angel of Music he once was creeping out and overtaking.

“Focus, my songbird.” His voice was so exact, how could you possibly disobey?

“Erik,” you repeated and felt your heart ready to pound out of your chest.

“Give into the music.” His grip tightened both over your hand and at your side and you had to work very hard not to shake and play incorrectly. Even with all this you did not want to do that.

He was not listening and you were not sure you could take much more of this. But you being the smart songbird you were, knew of one thing that your angel could never resist no matter what happened, a thing that was guaranteed to break him of anything and return him to his sweet blubbering self.

It took all of your strength to pull it off, gripped as you were by his strong callused hands, but you managed by some miracle to turn enough to press your lips to his. Erik's eyes widened behind his mask and you knew that his whole face was turning red, could feel his hands lighten their grip, his body start to stiffen as it often did when you kissed him only to relax again. And move to grab your arms and pull you ever closer; Erik was a master of music but he was a slave to your love and desperate as always for every bit of it he could get. To be kissed by you was something he seemed always to want more and normally you delighted in giving it to him, everything you could. All the love you could muster for this sweet broken man. But the fire inside you was still burning and the aching that grew from the way he had spoken, the power of the Angel of Music, and there was plenty of desperation of your own as you leaned into the kiss, into him, only to have to break away for the all too human need of air. You both panted and you could see how blown out his pupils seemed to be as he looked at you.

“Songbird,” he said in a low voice.

“No fair,” you muttered in response and bit your lip, “All too unfair.” How did this man, this phantom in the dark, have such power yet seem so delicate and sensitive so much of the time? You did not know the answer to it but you knew it was unfair, that such a beautiful soul had to feel and be trapped by the past, by insecurities, by others.

“What is unfair?” he asked and there was still an edge, a trace of the angel within the man.

“Everything,” you stated and looked back at him, into those eyes that roiled with such emotion and thought, at your Erik, “But especially that you only seem able to have confidence in yourself and your place in the world when it comes to music.”

That seemed to fluster him but you took the opportunity to kiss him again, no little light thing as the flame inside continued to burn. If not for the violin and bow in your hands you would have grabbed hold of him but you did not dare drop the precious instrument, for him and for yourself, thus you could only lean into him and want more while getting only that. You heard him whine behind the kiss but Erik did not resist it and that grip he had on you loosened only so he could wrap his arms around you. How he delighted in holding you, it burned you more because here was his soft side showing again and you felt a tear hit your face. Not your own, his; the kiss broke again and he was looking at you with that sad expression he would get when things started to overwhelm the man, filling him up and demanding to be let out.

“Songbird,” he repeated with the essence of the whine woven in.

“We will have to continue the lesson later.” When you can explain better, when you can tell him gently how much it made your heart race to feel his touch, your skin burn to feel his breath against your neck, your body yearn because of the power of the Angel's voice and the love for the man. But right now you could not, need was too strong and he nodded all too quickly, sidetracked so easily by you.

He let you go long enough for you to be able to put the violin and bow safely away and close the case but not a second longer. His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you close and picked you up, burying his face in your neck. “Your Erik wishes to be loved by you, please.”

“I wish to be loved by you as well, mon ange,” you whispered to him.

That's all you needed to say. The instruments and music were left behind as he carried you off to his room, to make music with you of a different type.

#erik x reader #erik destler x reader #phantom of the opera #poto #phantom of the opera x reader #fanfiction #the phantom and his songbird

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vilevenom · 29 days

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Greetings, Anon! Thank you for your prompt! I feel like you probably wanted more interaction between John and the kids, but it sort of became more of a Bruce and JD fic. Whoops! I hope you like it, anyway!

Bruce didn't know exactly when it had begun, but it was certainly becoming hard not to notice just how much his daughter carried around John Dory. When he called the kids for dinner, she had him in hand. When he poked his head outside to check on the kids during the lunch rush, he was sat in her hair. When he was getting the boys ready for bed, she was placing him on the bathroom counter so she could brush her hair.

Honestly, he was beginning to be a bit concerned. Not because he thought John Dory was using LaBreezey as some sort of easy transportation around the large resort (though that had crossed his mind), but because he was a little worried she was looking at her uncle like some sort of living doll.

Despite the fact that LaBreezey was half troll, she and her siblings weren't overly used to being around smaller species. Sure, they were used to Bruce, and he had tried very hard to teach them that no matter someone's size they should be treated with respect, but they had a tendency to let Bruce's life lessons go in one ear and out the other. Put that together with LaBreezey being his only daughter, so Bruce had a bad habit of letting her get away with more, along with the fact that she was his youngest…Well. Bruce had a feeling it was a perfect recipe for potential disaster. Especially when it was topped off with John Dory admitting to, and striving, to be the kids favorite uncle.

Bruce recalled it vividly, the day that John Dory puffed out his chest with a grin and declared in front of his brothers that he was bound and determined to be bestowed with the title 'favorite uncle' by at least one of the kids. He had laughed and then had promptly handed one of his kids a glitter bomb. So, to say that Bruce had a terrible feeling that John was letting his daughter treat him like a toy to earn brownie points was putting it mildly.

And it wasn't like he had much of a chance to pull his brother aside to talk about it, either. Between LaBreezey toting John Dory around, running the restaurant, dealing with the other twelve kids, and trying to make sure he had time to spend with his wife and other brothers when they popped by, it was nearly impossible.

Until finally, one blessed night when all of the boys went to bed without much fuss, Brandy was out with a couple of her friends, and the only one of his brothers currently visiting was John, he had found the opportunity. Well, nearly. LaBreezey had begged to let John Dory tuck her in that night, so Bruce was left standing outside his daughters room while he waited for John to finish reading her a bedtime story.

"…and the princess ran off into the night with the treasure, leaving the stodgy old prince in the dust. The end."

Bruce arched an eyebrow at the ending of the story, not recalling a single book in any of the kids rooms that ended that way.

"That's a much better ending, Uncle John," LaBreezey hummed, her tone letting Bruce know she was already drifting off to sleep.

"Isn't it? I think the princess is much better off without marrying that silly old prince. Who wants to get married after knowing someone for, like, a day?" John chuckled softly. Sometimes Bruce forgot just how good John Dory was with children, right up until he heard this sort of conversation with any of the kids.

"Good night, Uncle John. I love you," LaBreezey murmured, while Bruce peeked through the door to see her struggle to keep her eyes open.

"G'night, pumpkin. Love you, too," John whispered, a soft smile on his face as he blew her a kiss before hopping off her bedside table to flip on her night light.

John Dory quickly exited the room, startling quite badly at finding Bruce waiting for him directly outside the door. "Holy cupcakes," John hissed, clutching at the front of his vest, shooting Bruce a glare, "You're gonna give me a heart attack."

"I very much doubt that," Bruce snorted, arching an eyebrow at noticing the fact that John's hair was coated in glitter, there was a large flower sticker on the back of his vest, and there were bright pink ribbons tied around his wrists. He gestured to the offending decorations, scrunching his nose slightly. "What's with all that?"

John made a quizzical sound as he glanced to the ribbons, his expression turning mildly surprised, as if he had forgotten they were even there. "Oh, yeah," he finally chuckled after a moment, "LaBreezey said pink is my color, but she didn't have any outfits that would suite me, so she found some little ribbons one of her dolls had in their hair. And then she decided my whole look needed a slight adjustment."

"So, you let her coat you in glitter and decorate you with stickers?" Bruce asked, a slight frown on his face.

"I mean, she wanted to play dress up. I wasn't about to tell her 'no'," John snorted as the two began to walk down the hallway, away from the kids rooms.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, before shooting John a slight glare. "I wish you would have."

John looked affronted for a moment, before returning Bruce's glare full force. "You would prefer that I make your kid sad by telling her 'no'?"

"Yes!" Bruce started, only to shake his head with a groan, "I mean, no! I don't want her to be sad, but I also don't want her thinking it's okay to treat smaller species like play things!"

"Since when is playing dress up teaching her that trolls are play things?" John scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

"It just is!"

"How?! I used to play dress up with you guys when we were kids!"

"It's different!"

"Again, how?!"

Bruce growled in frustration, throwing his hands into the air. "Because they can hurt us!" Bruce slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as the words escaped him, glancing back towards the kids rooms. They both stood in silence for a moment, Bruce letting out a sigh of relief when none of the kids came running into the hall. He glanced back to John to find him giving him an odd look.

"Maybe you shouldn't have decided to marry a vacaytioner if you were afraid of being hurt," John half growled, his fur bristling.

Bruce rolled his eyes, scoffing at John. "I'm not. Not intentionally, anyway. But you seem to forget, John Dory, that you are dealing with children. Big children. Children that don't realize their strength when dealing with smaller species, like us. Children that aren't used to having to be careful, because they're primarily around vacaytioners their own size. It may not be on purpose, and she might not even realize that she's treating you that way, but when you let LaBreezey do whatever she wants with you, you're unintentionally teaching her that it's okay to treat smaller people like that. Like toys. She doesn't realize it's because you're her uncle, and you're trying to earn some stupid arbitrary 'favorite uncle' title. It was hard enough to get the boys to understand, after I made the mistake of rough housing with the oldest ones when they were younger. I don't want her to think that's okay."

John's expression went from defensive, to pensive, then to defeat. "Okay," he finally muttered after a minute, nodding slightly, "okay."

"Daddy, where's Uncle John?" LaBreezey rocked on her heels as she looked up at her father, who was sat on the counter above her drinking a cup of tea.

"I'm sure he's around, sweetheart. Did you check Rhonda?"

"Rhonda's not where Uncle John parked her yesterday," LaBreezey informed. She looked thoughtful for a moment, before she pulled what appeared to be doll clothing out of her hair. She then climbed up onto the stool next to the counter, placing a troll sized pink vest on the counter next to Bruce. She looked eagerly at her father, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Do you think Uncle John will like it?"

Bruce frowned lightly at the vest, clicking his tongue. "Where did you even find that, sweetie?"

"Oh!" LaBreezey kicked her feet, setting her chin in her hands, "Well, yesterday Uncle John and I were gonna play dress up, but the only clothes I had were dresses for my dolls, but Uncle John didn't want to wear any of those, so I found some stuff to make his outfit pretty. But then I remembered that Cove had a doll with other clothes that he never plays with, and it had a pink jacket. And I know Uncle John likes vests, so I cut the sleeves off for him."

Bruce nodded along as his daughter spoke, before letting out a quiet breath. "You know, LaBreezey, sweetheart, you shouldn't dress Uncle JD up like one of your dolls."

LaBreezey cocked her head slightly in confusion, a little frown on her face. "I wasn't?" she said, taking the vest and tucking it back into her hair. "Uncle John offered to play with me when the boys said that playing dress up was a dumb."

"Oh," Bruce blinked a couple of times, brow furrowed as he mulled that over. "Well…Do you mind if I ask why I keep seeing you carrying Uncle JD around the resort?"

LaBreezey snorted and rolled her eyes as if she'd just been asked the dumbest question in the world. "Because Uncle John's legs are tiny. He can't keep up when we play outside, so it's just faster for me to carry him. Like how mom carries you around sometimes. He told me I didn't need to, and that he was okay on his own, but he gets tired faster when he has to run after us. Plus, he tells me fun stories about when he was traveling when I carry him that only I get to hear, because I'm his favorite niece," she said, smile proud.

Bruce suddenly felt like an idiot. He'd been applying adult concepts and thinking to a child's straightforward actions. He also apparently had far too little faith in his daughter. "So…you just like spending time with your Uncle John? It's not because he lets you dress him up and treat him like a doll?"

"Don't be silly, Daddy," LaBreezey scoffed, "Of course that's fun, too!"

Or perhaps Brue had been right to worry.

"But," LaBreezey continued, "Uncle John listens to me, like you do. We had a tea party yesterday and he let me talk about my sparkle princess pony books the whole time. Rainy and Freddy and Bruce Junior don't like it when I talk about my books. They make fun of them and call them 'girly'. But Uncle John listened to me and told me that if I wanted I could read them to him, since they're too big for him to read."

Oh, yes. Bruce was the worst. "That's so nice, sweetheart! I'm glad to hear it. Did you say that Rhonda wasn't parked where she was yesterday?"

LaBreezey shook her head. "Nope! There were tracks going into the jungle, and you told us not to go out there by ourselves, so I came to ask if you knew where Uncle John went."

"Good girl," Bruce hummed, rising from his seat and setting his tea cup aside. "How about I go find Uncle John for you? As soon as I find him, I'll tell him to come find you."

"Thanks, Daddy!" LaBreezey chirped, leaning in to place a kiss on Bruce's cheek before scrambling off her stool and scampering away.

"You better not have gone far, John Dory," Bruce grumbled to himself as he set off to try and find his brother.

Bruce didn't really have too terribly far to go to find John, luckily. He wouldn't have been surprised if his eldest brother had left the island all together, but luckily he was only on the beach on the opposite of the island to the resort. Rhonda was splashing around in the water, while John was sat in the sand, tossing pebbles into the waves.

"There you are!" Bruce huffed as he jogged up to John, placing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

John looked rightfully startled by his appearance, frowning slightly. "What'd I do now?" he scoffed, throwing another pebble into the water with a bit more force, "You came running out here like a bergen was on your tail. Did I teach the kids that arson is good because I taught Bruce Junior how to build a camp fire the other day?"

Bruce blinked in surprise, finally catching his breath. "You did what? No," he waved his hands through the air, approaching John with a sigh, "That's not important. I mean, well, it is, but that's not why I came to find you."

"The kid was going to light a fire one way or another. At least I taught him a safe way to do it, and that he should always have a bucket of water nearby," John said with a huff, throwing his last handful of pebbles into the water all at once, catching Rhonda's attention. She churred happily, bounding over to poke at the water where the pebbles had landed.

Bruce watched her for a moment before letting out a long breath. "I was wrong."

John visibly perked up at the admission, turning his head sharply to stare up at Bruce. "Excuse me?"

"Yesterday," Bruce stated, folding his arms over his chest and looking distinctly uncomfortable, "When I spoke to you about LaBreezey. I was wrong. I didn't give her enough credit. Or you, for that matter." He glanced down at John Dory, whose expression all but sparkled.

"I wish I had a camera," John said gleefully, getting to his feet, "So I could commemorate they day one of my little brothers finally admitted to me being great."

"I did not say that," Bruce grunted, shoving John once he as on his feet, making him stumble, "I just…I think you are her favorite uncle. Sometimes I forget that she occasionally has a hard time fitting in with her brothers. But you actually listened to her and spent time doing things that she doesn't get to do as often, because her brothers don't like them, and Brandy and I are too busy. That means a lot to her. And to me, too, if I'm being completely honest." Bruce glanced at John to find him wiping at his eyes with a dopey grin on his face.

"I'm her favorite?"

"That is not the take away you should have here, John Dory."

"I know, I know! But, c'mon!" John nudged his brother playfully, "None of you thought I would be any of the kids favorite."

Bruce rolled his eyes before yanking John Dory into a head lock and ruffling his hair. "Definitely the wrong take away, JD!"

"Ack! Let me go! This hurts my back," John whined, smacking at Bruce's arm.

"Yeah, yeah. All right, old man," Bruce snorted, letting John go. "By the way, LaBreezey made you a new vest,"

"Oh, did she?"

"It's pink."

"Of course it is."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls bruce #trolls labreezey #trolls john dory #trolls fanfic #trolls band together #things that i wrote #prompt fill

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 6 months

Text

Returning the Favour

Aesop sends his lover a rather lascivious letter.

Sequel to A Lesson in Sensuality

I would be absolutely lost without my fabulous consultant, partner in crime and amazing friend @tea-withjamandbread

A few people asked me to write this fic in which Aesop replies to MC's erotic letter to him, and I couldn't resist. I just adore writing and reading about Aesop polishing his wand uwu

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

Returning the Favour (4.5k words)

tw: explicit sexual content, male masturabtion, vaginal sex, teacher-student relationship (reader is an adult)

Aesop Sharp was usually the one claiming his sweetheart's firsts. He was her first real love. Her first French kiss. He was the first man she spent her night with. And he was the first man to have ever been allowed to touch her as a lover. The first man whom she made love to. He hoped he’d remain the only man to have been given such privileges.

While she wasn’t by far his first, the Ravenclaw felt like the only one that mattered.

However, every now and then, the Professor would get surprised, as the young woman seemed rather determined to have some of his firsts as well.

For example, the first time he ever received an erotic letter.

That is, when he and Dinah Hecat were young and in love, they too would exchange letters, little notes of love, in which they too alluded to the anticipation of being in each other’s arms once more, but never anything quite as… explicit, as what his young sweetheart wrote to him. Not that he was complaining, goodness no. Quite the opposite. The letter caught him by surprise, he didn’t expect it in the least, but sweet Merlin, he knew that he would treasure it forever.

When he received it, it had been some time since they last lay together, and his body’s yearning for hers decided to surface like hot lava erupting from a volcano. Her delicious words and his mind’s picture of her touching herself while writing to him, thinking of him, imagining it was him whose hands caressed her heated young body, brought him to his own peak quickly, and it was a pleasure more intense than he’d ever experienced from his own hand before.

Then there was another first, the first time he ever made love to someone in his workspace, namely his office. The way his heart skipped at least three beats when she let her robes slide off her shoulders, revealing her delicate form to him and the chill of the dungeons. She made him lose control then, and he took her right upon his desk, rough, wild, primal. She made it a point to put her hair up in his class then, wearing the mark he left on the sensitive skin on her neck proudly, for everyone to see that she had been claimed. Her little smiles and secret winks drove him mad and made him want to kiss that little smile off her beautiful face right then, no matter the consequences. He managed to hold himself back, but not without covertly requesting her presence in his office once again after curfew.

He managed to grade several essays while she sat in his lap, kissing slowly along his neck and cheeks, their bodies connected intimately. Being enveloped by her tight heat while he worked turned even a task as tedious as this into a lovely experience. She’d occasionally roll her hips ever so slightly, teasingly so, making his left hand squeeze her hip tighter, his own hips moving a little in reply. However, there was only so much time he could spend like this before craving more, and this time, after he safely put his quill and the essays away farther on the desk, he leaned against the backrest and let her take the reins, bounce atop him sitting in his chair however she liked, just happy to be the instrument that brought her pleasure and of course revel in the bliss she bestowed upon him as well.

It was this lovely memory that flowed through his head while she claimed another one of his firsts - writing an erotic letter.

It was only fair, Aesop supposed.

He wondered if she too would touch herself while she read the letter, if she would find herself some privacy and tease herself to his words. He wasn’t sure if he had the same way with words as her, but once the thought was born, he couldn’t stop it from coming onto his mind every so often. And so, one afternoon, as he sat alone in his chambers by the desk in his sitting room, he decided to grab a spare piece of parchment and dip his quill into the ink bottle.

‘Dearest beloved,’

He started with. He took to addressing her as such in his little clandestine love letters, covertly exchanged hidden away within the quizzes he handed back to the students, or hidden inside her robes before she left his chambers. He considered what to write next - he didn’t want the letter to be too crude, but not too vague either. In the end he decided to try and focus on the recent memory that prompted this idea to write to her in the first place.

‘As I sit here in the comfort of my chambers, they feel rather cold without you here and in my arms where you belong. I haven’t ever noticed before just how quiet they are without your soft voice filling them, be it your well thought of words, your addictive laughter, or the breathy sounds of your pleasure. I get drunk on it like it was the finest of Firewhiskeys, and I am desperately addicted to it by now. My sheets and pillows are cold without your beautiful body warming them up, and while your heady scent lingers to them, it brings me little solace. In fact, it rather feels like a stab that there’s something definitely missing. I cling to the sweet smell of your hair upon the pillow, the natural smell of your body mixed with your perfume as if sewn into the blankets I rest under. As if I had a huge bubbling cauldron of Amortentia in my rooms.

Each time we’re forced to part feels like a little heartbreak, but then each time we once more find our way into each other’s embrace feels like a breath of new life entering my lungs. I can feel my heart thumping under my shirt as it pumps wildly to deliver this breath through my entire bloodstream, from my arteries to the smallest of capillaries.’

The potions master felt the way his heart purred as if agreeing with the words he wrote.

‘And, of course, during evenings like these, I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about how much my hands crave to touch you, the entirety of you. I want to comb my fingers through your beautiful hair, and caress your cheeks, reddened under the rumbling passion that the collision of our very existences is. To see your eyes imprisoned by my own, staring intensely, unwilling to miss a thing is like a delicious dance. Or is it you that is hypnotising me? The one who’s eyes caught mine and are forbidding them from looking away? I find that I don’t care. I don’t care as long as I am allowed to take you into my arms and press you against me, feel our hearts pound against each other in our chests, feel our breaths growing short in one another’s mouths.

To be inside of you is like being home, I feel like I belong there absolutely, that there’s no other place where I am more meant to be. The feeling of your plush walls spreading to accommodate me, hot and tight and wet, is the definition of heaven for me. To be able to dips my head and draw nonsensical patterns along your delicate skin with my wicked tongue, to be able to capture between my lips the pink peaks of your breasts and worry at them until you’re sighing my name, twitching around my cock, yearning for more, is absolute rapture for me.’

Aesop’s left hand slid off the desk on its own accord to palm at the growing bulge in his trousers. He laid the quill down momentarily to squeeze his covered tip between two of his fingers, before stroking himself softly through the fabric, eyes closed and mind’s eye filled once more with the delicious picture of his young lover gripping onto his shoulders and using them for leverage so that she could fuck herself on his shaft, her body aching for him, craving to be filled. The damp sounds of skin on skin and their pleasured groans growing in volume, reverberating off the cold stone walls made his hand grip the now fully hard manhood.

Heavens… Aesop understood having gotten excited and even being able to finish from reading her letter, but did not expect his body to get this interested while writing his own. Although, it shouldn’t come as too large of a surprise, it was not the first time he went stiff in his trousers when writing to her after all. That first time he felt ashamed of himself, but now the only things he felt were excitement, yearning and pleasure as he thumbed at his concealed erection and imagined her watching him do so while also touching herself.

He forced himself to pick the quill up again and observed where he left.

When he began writing once more, his script was nowhere as neat as it was when he started writing the letter.

‘The image of you irreversibly getting lost in your pleasure, the very moment that brilliant head of yours turns off, and you’re suddenly reduced to a purely carnal being chasing your peak is burned into the inside of my eyelids, and I see it every time I close my eyes. So beautiful. The very picture of want, of femininity, of love and passion, of the very thing that makes us human, so primal and raw, and so real, it almost makes me weep with joy, especially when it’s me who aids you in reaching this state. I love doing so. With my fingers, stroking you inside and out, I do feel like the virtuoso you called me, I feel like a master musician playing the most precious and complex among instruments, making it produce the most sweetest symphonies, ones that play throughout the whole of the universe that’s hiding within your eyes.’

Aesop looked at his own words. He didn’t quite know where they came from, he was unused to his head forming things he would consider… quite beautiful if he read them somewhere. But then again, perhaps it was not his head forming them.

‘And then to be allowed to taste you, it is almost overwhelming. As a Muggle writer once said, l’appétit vient en mangeant, appetite comes with eating, and he couldn’t have been more right. Your taste is addictive, heavenly. Each time I taste you, I feel like I never want to taste anything else. I crave to feast on you like a man starved, because that is exactly what I am. I want to drink from your most secret, most precious jewel, tease at your sweet folds and delicate pearl until you cry my name. That first time you allowed me to witness the pleasure my mouth brought to you I marvelled at my self control. Just the sight of you, nude and spread out for me, bared of your inhibitions, your juices glistening upon my lips was enough to make me feel like I might explode.’

The potions master put his quill down once more to undo his now very constrictive trousers and pants. His hard prick sprung out, and Aesop shivered as the cool air of his chambers made contact with the hot skin. He slowly pulled his foreskin back just as a droplet of clear precum wept out of his slit. He took a hold of himself softly, teasing at the aroused organ. His sweetheart’s hand was so much smaller than his own, yet she knew exactly how to touch him to make him see stars, make him crazy for more. The first time she tasted him, Aesop could see in her eyes that she too found the practice and the taste strangely addictive.

He grew so absolutely unused to someone seeing him as… beautiful. However, when they rested next to each other, spent and sated, he felt the way she took him in entirely, like he was a work of art. His cheeks burned under her admiring gaze, he didn’t agree with her assessment at all, especially when he saw the epitome of true beauty in her.

‘You are so beautiful when you bear my signature,’ he wrote then, having spat into his palm and begun stroking himself slowly, ‘the imprint of my teeth on your elegant, swan-like neck, the bruises of your hips the perfect copies of my digits. I am so disgustingly selfish, my love, but I love it when your perfect body carries the signs of our shared passion, and it makes that dark beast inside of me purr in satisfaction to see you flaunting them, like you did in my class the other day. And when you mark me as your own, when you leave crescent moon cuts upon my back, when I can feel where your nails scratched me the previous night, that delicious sting under my shirt, I feel alive, I feel that I belong absolutely.

Entering you, settling within your body and your arms is an experience that could never be described by a word as simple and short as ‘sex’, and I know you feel the same way. The moment we get connected as intimately as two humans possibly can, I know you wonder at the simple action as much as I. It’s a gesture that’s so familiar by now, and yet it always feels like the very first time. I didn’t think I’d ever experience such intense passion again, I once more feel like a young man in your arms, guided by love, by want, by scorching need. Each time I bury my prick inside of your velvety depths and it forces that little sound out of your mouth, I could laugh at the beauty of it all, gently pry those delicious sounds from your lips and give you my own in exchange.

Having your warmth and tightness around me, simply just enveloping me like it was those few evenings ago in my office while your delicate lips pressed against my neck was probably the most enjoyable time I ever had grading, and you made it quite difficult to be as strict as I usually am. I hope I’ll soon be able to repay you for this lovely experience.

And then submitting myself to you entirely, you’re just so spectacular. You are like a flower in full bloom, unashamedly indulging in your pleasure atop me, beautiful and confident, and yet so feminine and delicate, watching your sweet core accept me entirely with each stroke, moulding for me, squeezing me inside with your enjoyment-’

Merlin!

Aesop was pumping himself steadily now, his glans weeping more droplets of his arousal. In his mind he saw her like it was only yesterday when she shyly gathered one of those drops onto her finger to taste him. He truly was quite impressed that he didn’t come on the spot right then, her determination and the want to explore their newly discovered world of pleasure despite her lack of experience still made him throb violently.

He hoped she’d be able to read what he wrote, seeing as his writing was quite messy now.

‘And then when your back finally arches, when I feel your climax wash over you, feel your grip on me become so hard it’s nearly painful, I lose myself as well, I succumb fully to that wild thing we all carry with us, and I need you, I need to fill you and make you mine, join you in your bliss. In that exact moment I can’t see how selfish I’m being, keeping you all for myself, I only see your body trembling from gratification, your flushed cheeks, your hands cramping up on whatever it is they’re holding onto for dear life, and I see myself plunging into you over and over again, chasing my own high, which, truth be told, is never too far away whenever I am with you.’

And it wasn’t far away now either, Aesop could feel the first tugs of an approaching orgasm as he pulled at his leaking cock, imagining his sweetheart coming apart atop him in a flurry of gasps and moans, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, her body tensing up and her face screwed up in pleasure.

A couple of more fast strokes and quiet grunts later, Aesop used his free hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a simple cotton handkerchief, which he pressed against his tip right as he felt the first wave coming to crash over him. “Mhm!”

The potions master closed his eyes, giving himself to the climax. His stroking slowed down as he released a few thick spurts of cum into the soft fabric. He sagged down against the backrest of his chair, breathing heavily through his nose, letting the relief wash over him. His orgasm was hardly as intense as it had been when he read her letter, and neither could hold a candle to actually being with her, but he still felt nicely spent and relaxed. After a while, he wiped his softening shaft and his hand onto the clean part of the handkerchief and tossed the crumpled up fabric on the ground to deal with later.

His eyes still closed, he enjoyed the lingering pleasure, blindly tucking himself back into his trousers and pants. “Bloody hell,” he said quietly to himself, running his hand through his hair. He looked at the parchment before him. He knew she’d be able to tell exactly what he was doing when writing the letter. Aesop picked up the quill once more, wetting it in ink.

‘Coming into my own hand hardly feels as good as coming inside of your body, and feeling your walls accept my spunk, feeling it mingling with the proof of your own pleasure, feeling it dripping out of you and then seeing it as well. It makes me want to crawl down between your legs and make you come apart for me all over again, feast on the product of our love and our passion.’

Aesop felt himself stir again, but knew he wouldn’t get fully hard for quite a bit. Yet, the mental image of himself indulging in his depravity sent pleasurable sparks through him. He was certain his lover would very much enjoy it as well.

‘But until we’re able to once again seek the comfort and pleasure of each other’s arms, all we’ve got are the sweet fantasies.

I love you with my entire heart, I desire you every waking moment, and I cannot wait to gather you in my embrace and drink from your lips. Come to me soon, my sweet tempretess.

Only yours,

Aesop.’

The potions master read through his work. It was… maybe slightly chaotic, but then again, so were his thoughts when his body lit up with need for her. Understandable, seeing as most of the blood usually pumping to his brain was needed entirely elsewhere during these moments. A momentary feeling of anxiety and self-consciousness took hold of him though; would she like the letter? Wouldn’t she find it too crude, or simply too much? Yes, the letter he got from her was very enticing and explicit, but he still felt like this was different.

But then he saw the image of her in his mind, the smile that graced her lips in his classroom as she proudly showed off the mark he left on her neck, the way she moved when she knew he was watching her, the way she ‘dropped’ her quill on the ground when he was behind her, and gave him a view that made him be glad to have been so close to his desk, so that he was able to sit down.

No… Aesop was sure that she’d like the letter. And he found himself once more imagining her touching herself as she read it. Should he perhaps use his cologne on the parchment, so that it smelled like him? He grinned. But how should he send it? He wasn’t currently grading any of her quizzes or essays to hand it back with, and he hasn’t borrowed any of her books lately.

As he cast the scouring charm on the handkerchief before he’d forget it and one of the house elves found it (Aesop cringed), he suddenly got an idea. Of course!

There was one place he knew his sweetheart frequented every day, to take care of the beasts she rescued, gather the ingredients she grew and bottle the potions she brewed there. Aesop was certain that Deek, who too spent a lot of time there, would be able to execute these tasks as well, but his young lover insisted to ‘be meticulous in her efforts’. Aesop chuckled. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy her heeding his advice.

He sealed the parchment with a wax stamp bearing his initials Dinah gifted him for his 30th birthday. Boy, did that feel like a lifetime ago. After making sure he was presentable and that not a single drop of his pleasure got somewhere it shouldn’t he set out in the direction of Astronomy tower. Soon he found himself standing in front of the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry.

He knew how to access the Room now, but he never once did so without her presence there. She gave him full access, but it still felt as something of an intrusion into a space that was her own. But then again, perhaps she’d be there now… Perhaps the Room would accommodate them, make some neat little secret room with a large bed, and maybe some silky shawls to be used as bounds, and some other toys they could use on each other…

After he paced before the hidden entrance three times, the door materialised out of nowhere, and he noiselessly entered. The Room of Requirement was truly not vacant, but, unfortunately for Aesop, its sole inhabitant classified as a being was currently Deek the house elf.

“Ah, professor Sharp!” the elderly elf greeted jovially. He grew used to the potions master’s presence in the Room, as he knew Aesop enjoyed spending time with the Ravenclaw and the beasts in their Vivariums as much as Deek himself. Except perhaps the coastal one, containing Lord of the Shore. But then again, Deek couldn’t blame the former Auror for being wary of the Graphorn, it was after all one of the largest of his kind Deek ever saw, and even the house elf was very respectful and careful when approaching him.

“Hello, Deek,” Aesop said quietly, “I’m guessing she’s not here at the moment?” Deek shook his head: “She’s not, professor Sharp. Hasn’t been here today as of yet.” The potions master nodded. He then pulled out the sealed letter from within the confines of his breast pocket. “This is for her, and her eyes only. Can I leave it here somewhere for her to find?”

“But of course, sir,” Deek said, coming closer and towards the plant that stood in the centre of the room, “Here on this desk by the Venomous Tentacula, she always tends to it first, she’ll be certain to find professor Sharp’s letter right away.” Aesop took a wary step towards the large plant, but it displayed none of the hostility towards him that the one in Mirabel’s greenhouse did. He placed the letter there, his sweetheart’s full name upwards, then shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“Would professor Sharp like to see the new litter of Kneazles, sir? They’re very lovely ginger in colour, Miss (L/N) already took the liberty to name one of them Matilda Kneazley.” Aesop chuckled audibly: “That sounds like something she would do. Does professor Weasley know about it?” Deek grinned at him: “I don’t think so, sir, but I hope that she’d be pleased. Kneazles are quite brilliant creatures after all.” The potions master couldn’t help but grin back.

“Just out of curiosity, you wouldn’t happen to know whether she named any beast after me, would you?” he asked then, genuinely curious. “I do happen to know, actually! Miss (L/N) recently brought a female Graphorn into the Coastal vivarium, and it would seem that she’s with a cub already. Miss (L/N) plans to name the little one after you.” Aesop couldn’t help but press his hand against his face: “That’s nice…”

He ended up going to see the Kneazle kittens for a little bit, but decided not to check up on the pregnant Graphorn. How his sweetheart was able to treat the ferocious beasts like they were mere housecats both befuddled and fascinated Aesop.

Later that day, just as Aesop prepared to go to Dinner a rapid knocking on his door startled him. His heart immediately picked up pace - could it be her? The knocking sounded rather urgent, but then again it could be another student or even a colleague in distress. But if it was her…

“Enter,” he said after clearing his throat and was soon met with the sight of his sweetheart, her face flushed and breathing hard. But then again, that could be from possibly running all the way here.

“Something the matter, love?” he asked, a slightly smug smile making its way onto his face. The young woman checked the corridor behind her to make sure nobody was there, then entered his chambers and closed the door behind her. Aesop came closer to her slowly, like a predator approaching his prey. His hands came to close around her wrists and she let him pin them above her head against the door. The rest of her body soon followed, as he pressed his own against it: “I take it you read my letter?”

The young woman’s eyes were impossibly dark, her cheeks even more crimson now.

“Aesop, please…”

“Who knew that me simply returning the favour would get you into such a state, my love? Tell me, what do you need?” he purred into her ear before dropping his face to drag his teeth over the soft skin of her neck. She sighed at the sensation: “I really need you…I need you to read the letter to me… please…” Aesop grinned against her throat.

“That can be arranged,” he said darkly, “but I think it’s only fair that you offer something in return, no? Let me watch what it does to you…” His lips then claimed hers hotly, his tongue instantly surging forward to explore her mouth. His hands closed around the back of her thighs, and soon he began carrying her towards his bedroom, where he sat her down upon his made bed. He kneeled between her legs, his large hands stroking her stockings-clad shins, moving up to her knees, her thighs, pushing her skirt up as they went.

“Do we have a deal, my lovely?”

The Ravenclaw gave a soft gasp when Aesop’s hands teased at her inner thighs.

“I’ll take that as a yes. The letter please…”

Hello, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic. As always, you can find this and all of my other works over at my AO3.

I am always super grateful for feedback uwu

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #reader insert #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x mc #tfw u get a gf and ur drive goes through the astronomy tower roof oop

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kidstemplatte · 4 months

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I know you must be so busy rn, but could we get some headcannons/ little fic about Terzo with his kids on Christmas

dad! terzo during the holidays headcanons🎁🎄

tysm for your request, anon! i hope this is close to what you wanted! please enjoy<3

◇ i like to imagine the clergy decorates for the holiday season, i’m not sure what exactly they’d celebrate since i’m no expert regarding theistic satanism (i need my art school anon to help me with this one 🤍) but i think they would do some of the christmas-esque stuff just for the fun of it

◇ i imagine their decor is a nice fun mix of spooky and sweet, or more of a witchy vibe.

◇ i headcanon that they’re in sweden, which means there’s snow outside!!! terzo doesn’t like the cold, since he’s from italy haha but his kids loooooove playing in the snow so he sticks it out for them!

◇ he gets all wrapped up in like 1000 layers because he’s a big old baby, definitely not dramatic at all.

◇ but also he makes his kids do the same, he’s very protective and wants to make sure his kids don’t freeze!

◇ honestly i think terzo’s the kind of dad who would make up an urban legend to scare his kids into wearing proper winter gear…💀 they’re SPRINTING to get inside after he tells them about the monster who eats little children who don’t wear their gloves…

◇ do not take terzo ice skating because his ass will fall down over and over and over again. but on second thought, it makes the kids laugh, so maybe do take him.

◇ terzo cannot wrap presents. he is so bad at it. he has to ask the ghouls or one of his brothers to do it. but this also means he really appreciates the artistry of gift-wrapping.

◇when he gets a gift of any kind he always wriggles his fingers and goes “for me?” like you’ve just bestowed a treasure upon him.

◇ he will absolutely melt if his kids give him a gift of any kind, a homemade card or even just a cool rock one of them found. he will keep it forEVER.

◇ if there’s an elf on the shelf or some kind of satanic equivalent, terzo is leaving it in the funniest fucking places. then he sits around waiting for his kids’ reactions because he loves hearing them laugh.

◇ but it’s not just for the kids- it’s for his own amusement as well. you can bet that elf is going on nihil’s grave.

◇ every christmas eve eve (december 23rd muahaha) terzo watches nightmare before christmas with his kids.

◇ terzo’s favorite christmas movie is home alone, but he has to give the kids a disclaimer before they watch because they’re little troublemakers and they WILL get ideas from all the traps and shenanigans.

◇ i don’t know about anyone else, but i always had a hard time as a kid falling asleep on christmas eve because i was so excited. i imagine terzo’s kids are the same way haha, so he reads them stories until they fall asleep.

◇ terzo doesn’t care much about his kids believing in santa until they tell him they don't. because to terzo, that’s a challenge.

◇ initially, he wants to dress up as santa himself, but he knows the kids are smart enough to find out it’s him. so he has to outsource his work. (he makes omega dress up as santa and put the gifts terzo made him wrap under the tree. omega gets a raise.)

◇ the kids are getting whatever they ask for btw. it’s typically nothing too unreasonable because they’re raised well haha.

◇ if the kids want to leave food out for santa, terzo’s using it as an excuse to order a fancy ass hundred dollar meal and eat it at 3 am. santa’s getting steak made with wagyu beef and a nice glass of wine.

◇ i hc that terzo can cook but he can’t bake for shit, (i have a fic i’ve been wanting to finish for so long about that) so primo makes the kids gingerbread cookies (he has an extensive cookie cutter collection) and they’re all decorated super fun lol.

◇ also in my mind the clergy is a huge piece of property with a forest behind it, and in this forest there are deer! so before the sun sets on the night of christmas eve terzo takes the kids to leave food for the deer as fuel for their upcoming flight :,)

└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

that’s it yall!!! happy holidays and tysm for your request anon!!! i rlly hope u liked it!! i have more stories coming soon i can’t wait to share!!

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus #papa terzo #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #dad! terzo

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kopfkino-o · 10 months

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Daughter of the Summer Sea: Chapter One

Summary: They call them the Spear-Daughters of Summer and they are the fierce female warriors of the Summer Court known for their unshakeable bravery and the wicked three-pronged spears with which they fight. Having finally left the Library and more dedicated to her Valkyrie unit than ever, Gwyn finds herself charged with heading south to Adriata to learn from these infamous Spear-Daughters to expand both her fight knowledge and battle strategy, but to also seek out other Low Fae females interested in reclaiming their own power and fates by joining the Valkyrie ranks. But there is more than just sun and surf waiting for her amongst the bone-white streets of Adriata and, soon, Gwyn must ask herself: who does she want to be and where does her heart truly lay.

Pairing: Gwyn x Tarquin

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1628

Author’s Note: TARGWYN FIC LET’S GOOO! This is probably one of my most favorite crackships of all time and Adriata/Summer Court is probably my favorite Prythian setting outside of Velaris. I started working on this as a one-shot for @sjmcrackshipmonth but I have no self control and the story has since spiraled into something bigger.

Updates will come as I finish each chapter. Like my other fic, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 account for those who want to follow the story over there! You can find me at @courtwritesalot 💙

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading!

- Court

The bone-white walls of Adriata snaked along the rocky sea cliffs like the spine of a great slumbering beast.

High seashell towers and turquoise-capped parapets and buildings hewn from glimmering coral and pearl adorned the foreign city set against the backdrop of an azure sea, the sheer beauty of the Summer Court's capital evident even at this distance. Even the crowded port bustling with trading galleys from every court and continent was beautiful in its own chaotic way, the rainbow of many colored sails sliding in on the evening tide a mesmerizing sight to behold.

It was, undeniably, unlike anything Gwyneth Berdara had ever seen.

Her chest was alive with fluttering nerves, her arrival on the white sand beaches of the Summer Court long since anticipated, her journey here having been planned months ago, and yet the sight before her somehow surpassed all expectations.

Gwyn had read countless books on the Summer Court and its capital city's splendor, had studied reports and travel logs and cultural assessments until her eyes bled, but nothing could have prepared her for this. The sun and sand, the sheer size of the Summerstone Palace on its high sea cliff, the sight of the Summer Court's gold and teal banners waving lazily in the sea-salt breeze. It was almost as if the Mother herself had bestowed these lands with a kernel of her own ethereal grace.

This is what you've been missing, a familiar voice murmured in the back of her mind, as it so often did.

A stray tear slipped down Gwyn’s cheek, the lingering memory of her sister’s voice breaking the dam of emotions she’d been fighting to keep back all day.

"Forgive me," She said, blinking away the tears and wiping her eyes dry before her High Lady could see. "I never expected to feel so overwhelmed by the sight of another city."

Feyre Archeron merely smiled, understanding filling the High Lady of the Night Court’s eyes, and gently patted Gwyn’s hand, her touch warm and steadying.

"I felt the same way the first time I saw the city, too," The High Lady said softly, blue eyes drifting out across the half-moon bay. "There is nowhere else in the world quite like Adriata. And no one half as kind as Cressida and Tarquin. They'll treat you like a treasured guest throughout your entire stay."

Gwyn could only manage a nod. There was so much to be grateful for on this day. Her freedom from the Library, the weight of her sword down her back, the gesture of friendship Feyre had shown her by taking the time to winnow her all the way here. And her closest friend by her side, here to see her off.

Her eyes slid sideways, daring to tear her gaze away from the sparkling city just long enough to study Nesta’s silent form.

The General of the Valkyries had been quiet ever since Gwyn had arrived on the steps of the Riverhouse so Feyre might winnow her south. She was distant, contemplative, like there was something she wanted to say but didn’t know how.

But Gwyn didn’t need her friend to speak the words aloud for her to understand: it pained Nesta to see Gwyn go. It pained Gwyn too.

The idea of leaving Velaris had been enough to nearly cripple her and keep her locked deep beneath the House of Wind amongst the dusty shelves and quiet serenity of the Library, but every night she lay down to sleep, every night she considered abandoning the journey altogether, she could hear her sister's voice softly urging her to go.

To the sea, sister, the ghost of Catrin’s voice would whisper, You must make it to the sea.

And so, if only for the honor of her memory, if only because Catrin would never get to see these azure waters, this bone-white city, Gwyn had gone.

Feyre cleared her throat and toed the pristine white sand with the tip of a black leather boot. “There are some... friends I need to say hello to,” The High Lady said, eyes snagging on the surf crashing against the beach below. She gave Gwyn a parting smile before turning to Nesta and gently squeezing her sister’s shoulder. “Come find me when you’re ready, Nes.”

A heavy silence settled between Gwyn and Nesta as they watched the High Lady climb down the rocky face of the sea cliff, the soft murmur of the sea breeze and the distant cry of ship bells filling the space between them.

Gwyn closed her eyes and let the uncertain mix of emotions wash over her, a bittersweet taste of uncertainty and anticipation, fear and curious excitement. She would be gone from Velaris for three months, the longest stretch of time she’d ever been away from the Night Court. The only time she’d ever been away.

It unsteadied her, the thought of the great distance and long stretch between her and her home, and yet,it set something strange inside her to shimmering too.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Gwyn turned sharply towards Nesta at the sound of the softly spoken words. Her friend, her sister, was still staring out across the sea, gaze fixed on the horizon as if she might find some sort of answer hidden within its vast expanse.

"I'm going to miss you too, Nesta." Gwyn replied softly, fighting the urge to let her voice break. “And Emerie. And Azriel and Cassian, and Deirdre and Rosalin too. Mother's blessing, but I think I might even miss Merrill."

Nesta chuckled, but the lightness of the sound did not quite reach her face. "I fear they're going to fall apart without your leadership." She said, still refusing to meet Gwyn’s eye.

"I'm sure Mor will keep them in line. She’s proving to be quite the addition to our ranks. The girls will listen to her council just fine.”

"But not as well as they’d listen to you."

Gwyn's heart swelled with pride and humility at Nesta's words. The Valkyries had grown exponentially this last year under the leadership they shared with Emerie. Not solely because of them, of course, but also because of the sheer grit and determination of the women who joined in their ranks each and every day. It was half the reason why she was here, so very far from home, in the first place.

"It's only three months," Gwyn said, reaching for Nesta's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “That's hardly even a blink over the course of our immortal lives. I'll be back in Velaris before you even know to miss me. Plus, the recruiting efforts here will be good for us. We need a unit of spears if we want to truly make the Illyrians blanche.”

Nesta's warm fingers squeezed her own, so tight Gwyn nearly saw stars. "Three months," She echoed then held up her free hand, the charm on the friendship bracelet she still wore even after all these months catching in the sunlight. "No matter how far the distance, no matter how great the cost."

Gwyn's heart strained at the word of the Valkyries’ official creed.

"No matter how far the distance, no matter how great the cost," She echoed, then added the final line of their creed. “We face the mountain together, for as long as I have my sisters, no battle shall be lost.”

Then Nesta embraced her and hugged Gwyn so tight she swore she could hear her bones sing. But she didn’t care. She hugged Nesta back, breathing in the winter mourning and steel scent of her and memorizing the feel of her sister’s arms around her as their sacred words settled in her chest like an ember.

When Nesta finally pulled away, Gwyn could have sworn silver lined her friend’s blue eyes but just as quickly as it appeared the softness was replaced with the hard determination of a warrior.

A general.

“You go out there and learn and show them how a Valkyrie wields a spear,” Nesta said, command and authority filling her voice. “Show them what we are building, what we have made ourselves into. Show them what they too could be.”

Gwyn lifted three fingers to her brow in salute. “On your orders, Lady General.”

Nesta returned the gesture. “Mother guide you, Berdara.”

“And you, Archeron.”

Gwyn scooped up her pack and left her friend there on the sea cliff, fighting the tears stinging in her eyes and the urge to look back at her friend one last time as she scrambled up the rocky terrain to the road that would lead her to the gates of Adriana.

The tears came nonetheless, emotions flooding through her as she began to walk, and Gwyn began to curse herself for her insecurities one moment, then slid back into the pit of her old anxieties the next.

She had three months to learn the art of the three-pronged spear well enough to teach it to an entire unit of women. Three months to win over the Princess and Prince, bolstering not only further confidence in the fragile alliance between them and the Night Court, but also earning their permission to gather women from their court to bring into the Valkyrie ranks. The worries flowed and ebbed. She wasn’t sure she could do it. Wasn’t sure she was strong enough, wise enough, brave enough. She was one woman and a woman who’d spent most of her life hidden away from the world at that.

Then Gwyn rounded a soft bend on the Summer Road and all those worries, all those fears and uncertainties, died in her chest, a single thread unspooling as she beheld the massive golden gates of the city and Adriata waiting beyond.

To the sea, sister.

#Daughter of the Summer Sea fic #DOTSS fic #targwyn #targwyn fanfic #gwyn x tarquin #gwyneth berdara #tarquin #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar crackship month #acotar crackship #gwyn acotar #tarquin acotar #summer court #adriata #gwyn berdara

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flowertrigger · 9 months

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Fuck Inspiration Sunday

Thank you @mammameesh @a-noble-dragon @ramonaflow @trickiwooao3 for tagging me in the various end of week writing posts 💖

I think I depleted all my writing energy with my last fic. Despite desperately wanted to writing (<- omg plz just look at where my brain is at currently 😂), I just haven't been able to put anything worthwhile down 😩😭

I've started and abandoned so many fics it makes me feel sad that they may never be finished--if only someone else would write them for me!

Anyway, let's all look at this fucking adorable face instead. I mean christ on a cracker, look at him!😍 I love him so much, plz send help.

And here is yet another thing I started tonight:

A pale eyebrow raises up questioningly. He cracks the spine of the book, sniggering at David’s wince, and places it page down on the table next to the platter of fruit he cut up and brought out for them because David mentioned early on that fruit tasted better cut. “Come here,” he says, grabbing David’s hand and pulling him across the padded seat of their outdoor setting.

“What are you doing?” David shrieks in outrage, ineffective since they both know how much he enjoys being manhandled.

Patrick hushes him with a soft, “shh babe.”

His large hands gently clasp David’s cheeks and brings their lips together. David moans as they come together—Patrick’s kisses taste luscious and sweet from the peaches he’s been eating, his lips soft and supple, his tongue teasing and hot. He kisses with his whole body, hands strong and present on his face, through his hair, over his back. David will never get over how much of himself Patrick puts into everything he does. A kiss is never a simple kiss with him, every one bestowed like a gift to be treasured and savoured. David whines as Patrick crowds him with his broad frame, rising a little onto his knee in order to push him down onto his back.

“Can we do this here?” David gasps out as Patrick settles his weight on top of him.

“Why not? The backyard is closed off.”

“Okay but—“

Patrick cuts off his protest with a hungry kiss, tongue once more probing and tangling with his own.

“Shh baby it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Ok, thank you, good night, sorry for this long ass post ✌🏼

#writing tag game #inspiration saturday #seven sentence sunday

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morningstargirl666 · 2 years

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Morningstar’s Rec List

Part 1 - Canon Divergence

To celebrate @klarolineauseason I’ve piled together all the fics I know and love into one place, to share with y’all. I’ve tried to include the well-known classics in the fandom that I adore, but also some more obscure ones. Hopefully there are some you haven’t read!

Deal of a Lifetime by Anya-Paradox

One-shot. Caroline meets Klaus when she’s still human, while on vacation with her father. They have a summer fling while she’s still sixteen, and a few years later after going their separate ways, she finds out ‘Nick’ is actually Klaus Mikaelson, the same guy who’s trying to kill her friends. I loved reading this fic, as it captures all the innocence of Caroline at sweet sixteen and falling for her first love, but also the character development that comes in their years apart, and how Caroline is a little older, a little wiser when she meets Klaus next. She’s in love with Klaus, but she’s not about to let him walk all over her. She’s worth being put first. And she knows it.

O’Holy Night by BelleMorte180 / @bellemorte180

One-shot. Another ‘Caroline meets Klaus early’ au. However, this time she’s a freshly turned vampire, confused and alone, forced to relive everything Damon did to her as the compulsion slowly wears off now she’s no longer human. Klaus finds her before her friends do, and it changes everything. At first, Caroline is aware she’s just a pawn in Klaus’ game, but as they spend more time with each other and Caroline learns of what Klaus wants - and he of who Caroline Forbes really is - this begins to change. It’s a beautifully crafted fic, and I loved how it slowly had them fall for each other, even though it’s only around 30k. And hey, because it’s one of Erica’s fics, you know Damon will get his due in the end. 😈

Their Nightly Ritual by bellyamywinchester

Multichap. Complete. Now this? This has to be my favourite canon divergence fic EVER. Dear god, it’s so good. It’s quite an old fic now, and it may not be a 500k enemies to lovers slowburn that you read at 3am, but it gives just as much serotonin for your brain. Set right after 5x11, Caroline is at college and Klaus has kept his promise to walk away and never see her again. But we all know Klaus - he’ll find a loophole if there is one. And fortunately for us, the loophole turns out to be he promised she would never see him ever again - he never specified about never hearing his voice again. And so, begins an exchange of nightly phone calls where Klaus asks Caroline about her day. Both of them are never even in the same room throughout the entire fic, but somehow this author has captured every nuanced aspect of Klaus and Caroline’s relationship, the insecurities on both sides, the struggle Caroline has in allowing herself to love Klaus and the easy love Klaus bestows her in contrast. It’s just a masterpiece. Go read it.

like a wedding dress needs dirt by coveredinthecolours / @definedareasofuncertainty

One-shot. This is so beautifully written, honestly fills me with joy. The concept and ideas behind this fic are so original too - it’s certainly nothing I’ve seen before. Fresh from leaving Stefan at the alter, Caroline spends her wedding day in a graveyard, burying her past life of make-pretend. Klaus is there, simply because she asked him to be, like always, and the fic ends hopefully, promising a new beginning for our favourite otp.

The Way Back by Cupcakemolotov / @cupcakemolotov

Two-shot. Complete. Another treasure. Having spent a near-distant future with Klaus only for it to end in tragedy, Caroline ends up sent back into the past by Bonnie to fix things before they go so very wrong. Little does she know, she wasn’t the only one sent back in time.

the guilty ones by grim grace

Multichap. Complete. Probably one you’ve already read as its a fandom classic, but amazing all the same. Caroline falls in love with Klaus without knowing he’s Klaus, and as always, things spiral from there.

Give Me Love and it’s follow up Love Interruption by idiot-wind89

Multichap. Complete. A classic canon divergence au in the sense it diverges directly from canon, Caroline and Klaus becoming endgame. To this day, I still vividly remember a scene in this fic where Klaus takes Caroline horse riding, when she’s supposed to be distracting him from her friends’ plots. Which is why I blame this author entirely for my obsession to read as many fics with these two interacting with horses, or riding together once more.

Til I Tasted You by KiryTheStitchWitch / @kirythestitchwitch

Multichap. Recently completed! Bonnie completes a spell to find Caroline’s mate, both of them expecting it to be Tyler and well - you already know how this goes. There is a magnificent quote from Klaus in this fic that honestly had me swooning: “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” Like. Take a moment to let those words sink in. Like dear god. Klaus you smooth motherfucker - thank you Kiry, for forever ruining my expectations for men, I hope you’re proud.

Blood and a Quick Murder (and isn’t this how it always is?) by KS_Caster / @ks-caster

One-shot. Has to be one of my favourite one-shots in the fandom, due to its originality and the utter brilliance of it all. Through magical hijinks, Caroline ends up human again and goes straight to Klaus, asking for his blood and a quick murder - hers. This fic showcases the differences between Caroline and her friends, how they always hated vamprism while she never regretted becoming a vampire, despite it not being her choice. It also sees Caroline finally arrive in New Orleans. What more could we ask for?

Red Queen by KS_Caster / @ks-caster

Multichap & Series. Part 3 of the series is still a WIP, but parts 1 & 2 are complete and waiting to be read. This was probably one of the first klaroline fics I read, and it still holds up now, years later. I love it immensely, mostly because it explores so much with the characters. There’s some in depth lore of the author’s own making, Klaus doesn’t shy away from his werewolf side which I ADORE OKAY and Caroline is pretty badass too, seeing through Silas’ lies. Klaus also puts Caroline first, seeking The Cure for her in order to save her from dying, rather than for his own ends. It’s an amazing series, highly recommend.

not for him a watery grave by MyLadyElise

Multichap. Complete. This is a lovely what if au for 3x21. The Mystic Falls gang succeeds in dropping Klaus at the bottom of the ocean, and while her friends celebrate the victory, all Caroline can feel is a paralysing wrongness to it all. So she calls Rebekah, and then she plans a rescue. Absolutely love the idea of this one, go check it out.

The Stubborn Grace of Being Loved Regardless by perfectpro / @helpless-in-sleep

One-shot. I will scream about this fic til the end of my days and then I will scream some more because it’s too fucking perfect, seriously Jenn. How did you come up with this piece of pure perfection? Unlike in canon, Caroline doesn’t become a vampire in this fic and instead becomes sidelined from her little group of friends, kept out of the loop about supernatural drama. Which is probably for the best, as there is no way in hell I could see this Caroline Forbes spending any time in close proximity with Damon Salvatore. This fic explores the full extent of what he did to her while she was human, and at it’s heart, the one-shot is about Caroline’s trauma and recovery. Along the way, she falls for Klaus yes, and - slight spoiler here - there may even be some Damon murder involved offscreen, but’s it’s Caroline’s story told here, first and foremost. And it’s beautiful, so bloody beautiful. Never have I read a fic so beautifully crafted with such fine detail and respect. Honestly, leaves me lost for words.

Wayfarer by perfectpro / @helpless-in-sleep

One-shot. The perfect little fic to cure the woes canon bestowed us. Years in the future, Caroline is travelling the world. But travelling alone isn’t what she expected it to be, and Paris certainly isn’t wowing her either. Almost deciding to call it quits and leave, her mind is changed when a familiar face appears. Perfect for solidifying these two are endgame, this fic is short but packs a great hit all the same.

she’s a rainbow by sunnydaisy / @little-miss-sunny-daisy

One-shot. Original!Caroline. The relationship built between Klaus and Caroline in this just incredible. They’ve been a couple for centuries, but like all relationships, this one has its struggles, and they work through it and come out stronger than ever. The fic is also so much fun. The Mystic Falls gang are oblivious to who Klaus and Caroline really are, which leads to some great moments.

Wisteria by sunnydaisy / @little-miss-sunny-daisy

One-shot. Another ‘Caroline meets Klaus early’ au, and probably my absolute favourite of the trope. This fic is packed with so much fluff and make-you-smile moments you’ll be grinning madly by the end. Carolines flees to the coast to escape Mystic Falls for a few days, saddened by Matt’s rejection and still coming to terms with being a vampire herself. In a bar, she meets Klaus, unaware he is also a vampire, and they hit off from there. It’s so cute guys, I just can’t. She tries to compel him and Klaus goes along with it because you can tell he finds her adorable, this blond baby vampire full of sunshine and- god. Just read it before I start crying again over the perfectness of it all.

Ghost by sunshineandfangs / @sunshineandfangs and it’s sequel Help me, please!

One-shot, or technically a two-shot if you count its sequel. This is my other favourite one-shot of the fandom. IT. IS. AMAZING. Like seriously, drop dead, scream into your pillow a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Go read it. Caroline dies when still human, killed by Damon. She watches as Elena softens to her murderer, as Bonnie helps him and Stefan turns into a similar monster. Hate and anger festers and grows, until she’s strong enough to interact with the world she’s barred from. As a ghost, she meets Klaus, and with any loyalty she held for her friends lost the day they left her to die, she helps him break his curse. Spooky, rife with betrayal and thus revenge, this is a great read for fellow chaos demons like myself.

Pet Wolf by these-dreams-go-on / @these-dreams-go-on

Multichap. WIP. Come for the klaroline, stay for the wolf!klaus who is a menace and an absolute delight. Seriously. The chapters where Klaus is stuck in his werewolf form and Caroline unknowingly adopts him as her pet is pure genius and the true highlight of this fic. He chews her dad’s shoes. He growls at boys. He watches freakin TV, fur and all. Asdfghjkl- It’s amazing go read it.

Wicked Schemes by willowaus

Multichap. Complete. A classic. Caroline inherits some badass powers from a forgotten relative and is pulled into the supernatural political shitstorm that is New Orleans. Looks like the city finally has its new Queen.

...My god that was a lot of recs. You can tell canon divergence is my favourite au, heh. Now go forth and devour them!

#klaroline #klaroline events #klarolineauseason #auseason2022 #morningstar's rec list #fic recs #hopefully I got the tumblr urls right but correct me if I am wrong

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smblmn · 1 year

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Ten Random Lines

I was tagged by @lizzie-bennetdarcy, thanks lovely! 😘💖 Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or three), and share it! Then tag 10 people.

(I only have 8 published works on ao3 at the moment and one of those is the collection of drabbles, so I'm putting one of those drabbles here.)

On the Outside Looking Through: David’s anger rises again, this man can’t be real. “Oh, and you expect me, what, to accept? After your amazing speech listing all the reasons I’ll never be on Patrick Brewer’s level? You insult me and my family and you assume I’ll come running into your arms just because you’re Canada’s most eligible Bachelor? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

I want to go home: Now that he’s finally said it, David can’t stop telling Patrick that he loves him. He whispers the words in his ear as they’re exiting the building and Patrick pauses –as he always does– beside the portrait and smiles sadly at the happy family that no longer can hold one another. He writes the words with his lips all over Patrick’s body later in bed.

Breathe again: A man kissed me last night. A man I’m undoubtedly attracted to. A man I can see myself falling in love with.

In the eyes of the beholder: “In her defense, I may have started babbling about how incredibly beautiful the guy was and how I had never seen anyone like him before and how anyone else paled in comparison and how maybe I was gay and that’s why nothing really seemed to work with girls…”

'Til we're running from it: Rachel watches silently as Ted takes a blood sample and touches the puppy in different places to see how she reacts. Just the water seems to have had a miraculous effect on the dog, who looks more responsive and is even wagging her little tail a little bit. She looks so small and indefensive that Rachel feels her anger spiking. “How can anyone abandon someone like that?” she blurts out way harsher than intended and only when her voice comes a little bit broken, she realizes she’s crying. “Sorry, you must think I'm crazy,” she adds.

Right in the doorway: Coming out to Rachel once he was sure about it was easy. It was made even easier by the fact that she had first row tickets to what she described as ‘the Patrick Brewer can’t be normal around his coworker show’. It’s probably an exaggeration, but then again, Patrick has never been so happy to go to work before in his whole life, so… maybe Rachel has a point.

The Great Canadian Baking Baker Show (Off): “It’s Mom’s recipe,” he says, beaming with affection. “Can I marry her?” “No,” Patrick smiles. He's still extremely focused, competently drawing something with a piping bag. Another check in the list of turn-ons David wasn't aware he had until he met Patrick. He stops working for a moment and looks at David teasingly before throwing his final blow, “but I’m available.”

Collection of Drabbles: Convenience/Eerie: “It's almost eerie, this silence.” Mrs. Rose says, making Patrick realize he hasn't even turned on the music in the store, too busy wallowing in self-pity. Her piercing blue eyes study Patrick, urging him to explain. “I need you to know that I never meant to use David, I wasn’t dating him out of convenience–” “I witnessed you bestowing your heart to him in this very place.” Patrick tries not to cry, but a tear escapes anyway. “He’ll return to you, dear. He’d be a fool not to.” If he does, Patrick will make sure to treasure David Rose forever.

I'm not tagging anyone because I think everyone has already done this, but if you haven't, feel free to play! 💖

#tag games #mywords

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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[ peace treaty - part two ]

AN: my first banner that I made for a fic!! Please enjoy and mind the tags as always!! :)

CW: yandere, noncon, loss of virginity, double penetration, coercion, gang bang, A/B/O dynamics, size difference, slight tummy bulge, cum stuffing, breeding

PART ONE

SYNOPSIS: The wedding to ensure peace for your kingdom was underway. Your alphas had been insistent that you met your new pack and give your virginity to them the night of your wedding. You could only wonder why.

The village of the Barbarian tribe was full of the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations being made for their leading Alphas and their newfound Omega mate. You could hear the rushing of bodies outside the tented den the pair kept you confined to. They were insistent on keeping you within their firm grasp, their watchful eyes at all times. It was exhausting, so say the least. The time spent in the village was theirs, not your own. Their tenderness almost made you forget the circumstances on which you fell into their laps. Almost.

Hardly anyone else in the village had seen you thanks to your red-headed mate. Dragons rarely let anyone but their pack near their hoard, and Eijirou was more than happy to declare you his most precious treasure of all, the centerpiece of his store. The hybrid was tempted to keep you with the rest of his treasures, but his other mate decided against it, demanding that you stay warm in the nest during the blistering winter that ravaged the mountain range.

They kept in the nest for as long as you would tolerate it, adoring the way you looked wrapped snuggly in the furs they had slain and prepared for you. The den was soon furnished with a small library for your curious mind, one of many wedding presents that your mates intended to spoil you with. Your mates were desperate for your approval, to preen and puff their chests in pride from your praise. In fact, one of the only times you were let out before the wedding was to watch wrestling matches between the Alphas of the clan and their leaders on the warmer days. It was a prominent display of strength, the pair hoping to impress their lovely mate with their fists and muscles. The other times, they had taken you to Eijirou’s cave to flaunt his hoard, which they welcomed you to take anything you liked from it as it was now yours too.

Winter flew by quickly. In those few months, preparations for your spring wedding were well underway as your mates took their agonizing time to stake their claim on you. The pair of them were insistent on waiting until the wedding night to be fully bonded but did not spare you any pleasure they wished to bestow you. The ecstasy they brought you night after night was earth-shattering, something you never even dreamed you could have achieved.

A spring wedding was to be had, and the wait was finally over. Your dress was designed of the most delicate silk hand-made in the tribe, dipped in beautiful red and gold dyes to match your mate's garments. Precious jewels and other gold jewelry was selected from the dragon's hoard by none other than Eijirou himself. Traditional paint was brushed onto your face and arms with expert craftsmanship, adorning your glowing skin with the clan's insignia and other symbols held dear to the Barbarians.

Meeting your mates down the aisle and finally being wed to them felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. For months, you had worried that their threat to destroy your home would see to its fruition, but now that you're finally their wife and mate, the treaty had been completed. Perhaps your mates would be kind enough to let you see your family after the celebration.

Festivities were planned for days to celebrate the new queen and pack mate of the tribe’s leaders. Being out of the den and meeting the clansmen felt like a breath of fresh air after being secluded for those few months up until the wedding. You could only hope that your husbands would allow this new freedom to continue.

Food, drink, and dancing went well into the early morning hours before you decided it was time to retire to your den. Buzzing with anticipation, you let Katsuki lead you home with a scarred hand on the small of your back, reminding you just how small you were in comparison to your Alphas. Tonight was the night that you submitted utterly and entirely to your mates. It was overwhelming, almost enough to give you cold feet.

Upon returning to the tented den, you were met with your new pack, the Alphas that Eijirou and Katsuki introduced you to earlier that day during the ceremony. TestsuTetsu, leader of the clan’s warriors. Sero and Denki, leading blacksmiths and protectors of the armory. Izuku, also known as Deku, leading military strategist. And Hitoshi, the tribe’s mage.

The tent’s magic flaps had sealed themselves once you and your mates made it inside with the rest of the pack, who were already waiting for you. Unease had swelled in your gut as you saw the hungry gleams in all the Alpha's eyes. Did they have the intention to watch while you bonded with your mates?

“Be easy, my love.”

Eijirou’s hands came to your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you as he guided you to your nest.

“Although you will be our mate, you will still be the pack’s omega.”

You nodded slowly, having already understood that much, but it still didn't explain why the rest of the pack was suffocating the space of your den.

“That means you will have to form a bond with all of us. We intend to share you with the pack tonight.”

Panic filled your being as you stood up from the nest, only to be pinned down into the redhead’s lap with his powerful arms. His hands rubbed soothing circles in your arms as he felt you squirm in his hold.

“There’s no reason to be afraid, my queen!” Izuku piped up as he flashed a reassuring smile. “This is the best way to ensure that you will give healthy pups to the pack and the clan.”

Tears and pleas dribbled out as you thrashed in your Alpha’s arms, desperate to claw your way out of his grip and away from the new pack.

“Stop yer fussin’,” Katsuki grunted as he took his place next to the both of you. “We’ll be right here the whole time. Besides, it’ll be a good way for the pack to bond. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your territory, now would we?”

Chuckles filled the room as you sobbed in absolute terror.

“Please! I don't want this! Don't make me do this; I'm begging you!”

A fatal mistake on your part is that you forgot who these men were. Barbarians who snatched, steal, and take whatever they please, whenever they please. Your mates were capable of tenderness, but only when it seemed to benefit them. And it didn't at this moment.

Eijirou was quick to quell your cries as he stroked your hair gently while Katsuki tied your hands together. The redhead whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to soothe his lovely omega. You were practically hog-tied into your nest as the blonde ripped your dress to shreds with his magic, your struggling between the pair of them frustrating him deeply.

“Enough fucking around. Omega, submit.”

Unable to deny such a command, you went still under your overbearing husband. How quickly he changed once you truly denied him for the first time...it frightened you. The men around you tried to croon and calm, wanting to put your wailing cries at ease. You had barely been touched and you already felt violated by being naked and bound before your new pack. Oh, things you had to endure to protect your kingdom.

Katsuki was overzealous, eager to be the first to pop your cherry and finally feel the velvet of his omega’s hole. A searing mouth sealed itself over your clit as thick fingers worked you open. Your mate was relentless, fucking your hole with vigor as his tongue sucked and lapped against your clit. The wanton groaning of the other Alphas met your squeals and cries as you clenched around your mate’s fingers, wishing desperately to sink into your nest of furs and never return.

Eijirou kissed you deeply, stroking away your tears and holding your chin in his scarred palm. The other Alphas hands groped, massaged, and grabbed at your supple skin, leaving no inch untouched. All of them ignored your sobbing, electing to see past your suffering for the good of the pack.

“So beautiful.”

“What a great pick you two made.”

“Hurry up and mount her Kats! I want to get in there too!”

Your Alpha continued his brutal pace of finger fucking and suckling on your clit, groaning and grunting as he slurped at you greedily. A tight coil of pleasure built in your core as you helplessly moaned and cried into Eijirou’s mouth. Katsuki felt your impending orgasm and pulled his mouth away in favor of rubbing your clit hard and fast with his unoccupied hand. He chuckled, watching you squirm and squeal loudly before coming undone, squirting all over his chest in the process.

The Alphas jeered and praised you for a good show as Katsuki chuckled.

“Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about. Good girl, little omega. Ready for knot?”

A wolfish grin cast on his features as he hiked your ankles up to his shoulders. Cock lines up with your still twitching whole; he sunk into your tight heat in one stroke of his hips. A breathy gasp left you as you were filled to the brink.

The pace he set with his thrusts was unforgiving; a bruising grip laid on your love handles as you were pounded into the nest, making a mess of the furs strewn across it. Snarls and grunts left your captor’s lips all the while. The other Alphas around you stroked their cocks heartily, eagerly waiting for their turns to have a go and breed their new pack omega. Squeals and cries of unwanted pleasure quickly filled your gut as you came again, forcing you to arch your back into the blonde’s chest. Overstimulation hit you like a freight train as your mate continued to chase his own pleasure.

Eijirou brushed the hair from your sweaty forehead and swiped gently at your tears, watching his two mates finally tie the knot and love each other in the most primal, intimate ways they knew. What a fine choice for a mate you turned out to be—loyal, lovely, loud. Your sobs and cries of pleasure were music to the dragon’s ears, adoring the way you shook and convulsed underneath the other Alpha. Toying with your nipples gently, he shushed your protests with a kiss and held his free hand to your throat, stroking the sides tenderly.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was practically feral, animalistic in his movements as he popped his knot into your tight cunt with a roar of your name. Ropes of hot seed painted your womb as he held you tightly in his arms, riding his orgasm out to completion.

Nothing but groans and pants could be heard for a few moments as your Alpha bent down to lay a claiming mark on the glands of your neck. He tore into the flesh with passion, leaving a trail of blood that dripped down your sweaty chest. Laving at the mark with his tongue, he sealed the bond and slurped up the blood. Extending his neck, he pushed your head into his crook.

“Bite, complete the bond.”

Like an obedient breeding bitch, you listened mindlessly, mind foggy with the haze of your orgasms.

After his knot had deflated, Eijirou moved to mount your sloppy hole.

“Guess the rest of you are getting my sloppy seconds,” Katsuki smirked, admiring the way his seed dripped from your now loose hole.

Eijirou was more tender than his counterpart, taking his time with his sweet, sweet lovemaking. Possessive and sweet nothings were moaned and groaned from him—bite marks littered your chest and mouth. His thrusts with slow and deep, wanting a slow build to both of your orgasms as he lavished you in his undivided attention. Kisses and bites were pressed sweetly to your lips, and his tongue tasted the salt of your skin.

Your whimpers and moans mingled with his deep, rolling groans while the others were content to watch such a passionate display of Eijirou’s adoration for his Omega. Laying his claim as he came, the knot popped the moment as he bit into your wrist, suckling at the wound he left behind. Even after he deflated, he cockwarmed you for a while so you could rest and have a much-needed drink of water.

After Eijirou’s cock slipped out of your cunt, the rest was a murky blur in your memory. Izuku followed your redheaded mate, losing himself quickly to the vice of your wet and sloppy pussy. He came rather quickly, apologizing for only finishing himself off. He had to, for the sake of pups, of course. Not that any of their words mattered to you, you were too drunk off the mating bonds your mates laid into your virgin skin.

TetsuTetsu succeeded Izuku, and much like Katsuki, he was an animal. Loud slaps of skin filled the den as he praised you for being such a good omega for your Alphas. Bear them your healthy pups like a good girl, won't you? His stamina was high, too high for your liking. Slipping in and out of consciousness, you barely made recognition to his knot swelling in your hole. He was by far the biggest of the pack. Another load pumped into the pack’s personal cumdumpster, but he made sure to make you squeal and squirt on his cock.

Any defiance in you had died by the time Sero and Denki speared you on their cocks. What they lacked in girth, they made up for in length. They both greedily stuffed themselves into your pussy at the same time, one rubbing your clit while the other tugged at your nipples. Only one knot caught inside you while Denki’s popped just below your clit, making an even bigger mess to your already sloppy pussy.

Finally, Hitoshi cast a fertility ward on your womb, marked by the pack’s emblem to ensure pregnancy and a healthy one at that. An average knot, he finished himself within your already full womb, a small bulge appearing in your gut because of it. A plug was stuffed inside you to keep the pack’s seed deep within your cunt, to ensure pregnancy of the pack’s pups.

Once the sun broke over the dawn of the mountains, the pack exited the tent to leave you to your Alphas. They spent the morning bathing and feeding you, wanting to pamper you after such an exciting yet stressful evening. The pair hoped you would come around to be shared by the pack; how else will they get you through your heats and their ruts? That's a problem for another day, they supposed.

After a long, well-deserved rest in a now cleaned nest, Eijirou was ecstatic to share the news of their newest surprise. A honeymoon! Oh, the places they planned to fly you to.

As you listened to their plans, you couldn't help but gaze off into the next morning’s sun, wondering if this life was worth it for the sake of peace.

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itssuppertim3 · 3 years

Note

How would the husbands react if the LDB wanted to introduce them to their parents?

Skyrim Husbandos Meeting the Folks:

Just to clarify! Usually all of my fics are written with a female reader unless requested otherwise! I apologize if you meant for it to be a gender neutral headcanon ;-;

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Ulfric Stormcloak: Preps his hair a few too many times. You're the Dragonborn. Such a gorgeous and powerful woman must have parents kin to deities! He'll have to make sure the meeting goes without a single flaw if he wishes to impress them.

He'll be even more anxious if they're supporters of the Empire. Gods, they'll despise him! You know that dinner scene in Shrek 2? That's pretty much how he'll expect it to go. But don't worry. In reality, he learns that your parents happily accept him as their son-to-be. (Forgive him if he gets political)

Veezara: He's a bit surprised by your invitation. If anything, he didn't expect you to even be in contact with your family due to your, ahem, unflattering occupation. Nevertheless, he feels more than honored to meet them.

His outfit choice will be his usual Brotherhood armor, to which you hastily advice him to think a bit longer on the matter. The next issue will be whether or not he should strap a dagger in his boot. "Just in case," he says. Veezara is actually very charismatic with your parents, despite the fact that he's never really had any. But soon enough, he'll come to treasue them as if they were.

Argis the Bulwark: Gods above, he'll love your folks more than a child loves sweetrolls. If the two of you aren't busy, he'll make a request to go visit them. It takes no time at all for your housecarl to immediately feel a part of the family, and he will brag frequently about you, as will they. In the end, the three of them are just sitting in front of the hearth, speaking nothing but pure love and adoration for you.

If Argis had to take a survey concerning his favorite things, it would most likely be structured like this:

My Favorite Things: -Y/n -Y/n's parents -everything Y/n likes -beef roast

Teldryn Sero: Much like Ulfric, he's also very nervous believe it or not. Teldryn is convinced that he's lacking in the career department, and he expects your parents to be underwhelmed once meeting him. The last thing he wants is to disappoint your family by admitting that he's just your average mercenary who used to drink himself sour in a sleezy inn every day.

He's a bit, I dare say, timid upon first greetings. For the most part, he'll let you do all of the talking until the conversation finally steers in his direction. He swears he can feel his heart rest at ease when your parents take a huge liking to his work. He deeply respects your father, and your father respects him all the same. Meanwhile, your mother is busy flashing you giddy looks as she whispers, "such a handsome man, he is!"

Ancano: He's very curious to say the least. He's well aware of the existence of your parents, for you speak about them quite often to him. In reality, he can't help but feel a bit of jealousy stirring in his stomach. To have people that cherish him deeply has been a secret desire of his since childhood.

Your parents are a bit astounded by your taste in men. They might exchange a few worried glances at first, murmuring to one another if letting a Thalmor into their home is the best choice. This causes Ancano to feel disheartened, but that doubt is quickly erased after sharing a chat with them. Your parents will then apologize for their caution, and surprisingly the three of them will get along very well! On your way back to the College, he'll have a pleased smile accenting his lips.

Miraak: He's skilled at maintaining his poker face, but the anticipation is definitely eminent. In his eyes, meeting your parents is the greatest privilege he's ever been bestowed. He already has a deeply profound and complex respect for you, and now he gets to meet the very people who birthed you?! He's screaming. Inwardly, I mean.

Disclosing the topic on how you both met will certainly be interesting. He'll make it elaborate, dramatic, and overall heart-wrenching. "It all started during the era of my rebellion against the Dragon Cult..." "Do you favor the color green, Mrs. L/n? I onced favored green. And then I spent 3000 years imprisoned in a green and goopy dimension, consumed by an endless abyss of vengeance and rage." "Y/n was so beautiful upon first laying my eyes on her. She was on the floor, of course. But even still, her eyes shimmered like jewels (probably from tears of agony :3)" "Ah yes... then she beat the daylights of me and commanded me to be her pissbaby servant. Such a strong and charming woman!"

Savos Aren: Will over apply cologne for the sake of masking his natural herbal scent. He knows well how much you love the way he smells, however he kind of wants to prevent your folks from realizing just how often he spends in his garden.

He's enchanted by your parents from the start, and he simply loves them to death. Savos doesn't categorize in the "young people" flock, so it's only safe to invision three seniors chatting away over a hot brew of tea and rocking chairs. He'll mainly discuss his role as Arch Mage, along with how amazingly talented you are as both apprentice and Dragonborn. Ah, but they obviously knew that already.

Romlyn Dreth: He isn't going to charm your parents, oh no. He's going to dazzle them. He'll wear his best clothing, have his hair combed back, conjure up the best manners known to man and mer, etcetera. And when they ask what he does for a living, Romlyn with flutter out a confident chuckle before saying, "I sell good mead for cheap."

In truth, he's never been so intrigued by your personal life. He didn't even know you had parents! Boy, was he ecstatic to hear that you wanted him to meet them. He was a tad intimidated by the thought, but he became comfortable rather quickly. Sometimes, it feels as if he literally stole them from you, for he speaks with them as if he's their most treasured son!

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I'll be thinking about this all night, holy shit. Thanks for a awesome request, Anon!

#skyrim #elder scrolls #teldryn sero #savos aren #argis the bulwark #miraak #ulfric stormcloak #romlyn dreth #veezara #ancano #skyrim husbandos #romance headcanons #x reader

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lockewrites · 6 months

Text

Durge!Reader being comforted by Halsin

Reader (gender not specified) x Halsin || SFW-ish (slightly violent) || 2390 words AO3

From anon on Tumblr: I feel like theres a real lack of Halsin/durge fics, specifically him helping her after denying to kill, and I think you’d be amazing for this!!

SPOILERS FOR DURGE IN ACT II - wrote the scene Larian denied us with Halsin as our LI :3

You lie on your bedroll, the stars hidden behind the cloth of your tent, the air within suddenly feeling as though it’s not enough to breathe. Sitting up, a wave of nausea roils through you, bile eating away at the back of your throat; each breath in creates a ripple in your gut. You crawl out of your tent, desperate for the open air; your movements are slow as you push to your feet, fearing your stomach will empty itself.

This sensation is certainly not a stranger; you’ve felt it a number of times since waking from the illithid pod.

The campfire has long since died, and with it is the absence of your companions, each lost in a trance or dreams. You’re grateful for the solitude; they’re aware of your… general situation, or at least as much of it as you know yourself, but they needn’t see you in such a state.

Your eyes flicker to Halsin’s tent; the druid had quickly drawn your interest upon joining the party. It began solely as a physical attraction; the sheer size certainly was enticing, and his Wild Shape, that very nature spoke to the feral instincts inside you. But his gentle temperament despite the power he holds, both physical and arcane, is an enigma to you, and him extending that soft touch to you, someone who certainly does not deserve it… the interest had quickly shifted to something deeper.

And for reasons you still couldn’t fathom, it’d been reciprocated.

Without realizing, you find yourself having approached his tent, your hand reaching to open it.

“He believes you’ve relieved the weight of his worries, returning him to himself.”

You spin to find a despicable creature standing behind you; decaying skin stretched taut over sharp bones, beady red eyes looking past you at Halsin’s tent. Sceleritas Fel.

“Such delusions, to think you a savior. As though you aren’t the heaviest burden to wrap around his neck, until he breathes his last, losing himself forever.”

Your mouth pulls into a sneer, and you take a step to block his view.

“You could do so much better, Milady,” the butler says, shaking his head.

“Back off, you rotten gremlin,” you hiss, your fists clenching. “You won’t touch him.”

He holds his hands up, unphased by your words. “I won’t lay so much as a talon on the elf.” His pointed teeth show in his malicious smile. “I wouldn’t rob you of that delight.”

A sharp pain beats through your head as you stare the creature down; the evidence apparent in your expression.

“Your clever mind is penning tragedy as we speak,” he remarks, pointing at you. “Your repressed Urge yearns to kill.” His voice drips with something akin to desire. “And kill you will. Tonight, the moment you close your eyes, your favorite person will be brutalized.”

“But I love him.” Your words are quiet, yet they startle you, spilling from your lips of their accord. Are you surprised by the admission? So early in your journey? Or is it that you don’t know whether you’re truly capable of such a thing?

“We all kill what we love most, in time,” Sceleritas replies. “He is so beneath you; his very presence infects the air with a sickeningly sweet stench. His pure heart would be better served floating in a jar.”

With each utterance, bile crawls further and further up to your throat.

“Halsin believes I’m stronger than this,” you mutter, more to yourself. “He won’t come to harm by my hand. I haven’t even yet told him how I feel.”

“Why not whisper it while you twist a knife?” He smirks. “Or have a love confession be the final words between you.” Sceleritas leans toward you. “It is my duty to ensure you are making the right decisions, Master. There was much disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little Moonmaiden.”

Your glare sharpens, suspicion growing and nearly pulling a snarl from your chest.

“You could kill this one deliberately,” he explains. “I’m sure it will be considered a great show of goodwill. The tithe could still be yours.”

The pain stabs through your head again, forcing your eyes shut as you grimace. Your instinct gnaws at your mind, and your Urge claws and screams beneath your skin.

Forcing your eyes open, you speak through clenched teeth. “Perhaps I sate the Urge by killing you.”

“Oh, my dear Lady.” He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s been many a time I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing your malice personally. But my death means little to your father and the Urge.”

The thought of his death at your hand would be satisfying, but you feel the honesty in his words; it would be far too shallow a victory to quiet the Urge.

“I won’t do it.” Your nails threaten to break the skin of your palms. “I will keep him safe. From you. And from me.”

He tilts his head. “I do not doubt you will act with the decorum befitting one of your rank.” His head dips, giving a bow just as his body glows an eerie red. “Good night, sweet Lady.”

His body disappears in a moment, leaving you alone with your back to Halsin’s tent. With a deep breath, you will your jaw and fists to relax; the lingering pain offering a bit of comfort as you wrack your mind on what to do.

You turn, reaching up to open the flap of Halsin’s tent, leaving a dark spot where your fingers touch. A metallic tinge spills into your nose, and you look down to see your hands streaked with blood, spilling from half-moon wounds in the middle of your palm. Without thinking, you run your tongue across your skin, the taste sending a shiver down your spine as your breath wavers.

Your movements freeze, the Urge rising in your chest, desperate to taste blood spilled from a body you crave.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, as though simply speaking would placate it. “Not Halsin.”

You dare to step through, finding Halsin lying on his bedroll, still deep in his trance, unaware of the looming threat to his life. Kneeling beside him, your bloodied hands hover above his throat; it would be so easy to spill his life with a simple slice of your dagger.

“Stop,” you plead to yourself, to your hands.

They move to his shoulders and give him a shake. “Halsin,” you utter, hoping to not wake the others. He doesn’t react. “Halsin!”

He wakes with a start, sitting up and gripping your arms in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Your lips part, but you struggle to find the words.

Halsin’s hands move to your wrists, turning them to view your still-bleeding hands.

“Speak to me,” he pleads, looking at you with fear and concern, visible even in the dark.

“You’re in danger,” you breathe, not entirely confident your words are loud enough for him to hear.

His brow furrows. “From what?”

“Me.”

His mouth opens, and you half-expect a lighthearted remark, but perhaps your severe gaze makes him hesitate. Halsin’s grasp slides to rest on either side of your face, his warmth filling you and quelling the nausea still tainting your stomach.

“Whatever is going on,” he begins, his thumbs brushing away tears that you hadn’t known spilled, “we will get through it, but I need to know what’s happening.”

You blink, his image going in and out of focus. “I… My… My mind isn’t my own,” you cry.

Each word given steals more and more of your energy, leaving your body on the cusp of failing; your vision grows tunneled and red as a headache splits through your skull, the pain unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

You feel the last of your consciousness slipping, but you must get out what has your heart in a vice grip. You slip from Halsin’s touch, stumbling backward against the tent’s flaps.

“It wants to kill you, and I… I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose you.”

He leans toward you. “You won’t lose me,” Halsin promises. “Our time together has only begun.” He interrupts himself with a heavy sigh. “You’ve shared a touch of your troubles with me, but this is far beyond anything you’ve said. To hold such a burden alone will destroy you. You could have confided in me.”

“I’m…” Even with the absence of any of your strength, you somehow draw further back; your vision becomes nothing more than a blur, the world spinning beneath you, and your throat burns with bile. “I’m sor—” You collapse into the dirt.

Whatever time that’s passed is lost to you, waking near the dead campfire with your hands bound behind your back and any semblance of control over your Urge gone. Your body thrashes, your wrists twisting and pulling against the rope, its flesh tearing into your own.

“Calm yourself,” Halsin orders, his voice sounding authoritative, as if speaking to one of his druids. “My magic cannot penetrate what plagues you. You, your will, will conquer this.”

Your mouth tastes of iron; vile desires gather on your tongue, the Urge itself commanding your body. You try to focus on Halsin, your eyes pleading that he sees you’re trying, even if not successful.

“I know you are still in there.”

His words are soft, sweet… they sicken the Urge.

You lurch forward, your teeth seeking to clamp down on any piece of Halsin, wanting to tear the meat from his bones, devouring him raw.

He doesn’t flinch, but his jaw sets. “I’ve handled the most feral of animals. Your fangs are no threat to me.”

The response sends the Urge over the edge, your limbs pulling with all of your strength, no regard given for any injuries caused by their own actions. The rope breaks through your raw skin, blood soaking the binds.

“Easy, my heart,” Halsin says. “Your strength is greater than this curse, and I will grant you my own alongside. You will not suffer this alone.”

You hold his promise in your chest, hoping it blooms bright enough to allow you to express your gratitude. You try to speak, but all that escapes is a harsh growl that tears through your throat.

“A growl means little from a trapped beast,” he remarks. “But you can escape this. I will see you free of this affliction.”

Tears that feel like acid fill your eyes, and you can’t tell whether it’s frustration and anger from the Urge or fear and dread from you. Your body is beaten inside and out, exhaustion’s hands wrapped around your throat. Still, it fights against your bindings, even as your consciousness slips back into the dark.

“Let your mind rest,” he says. “Your body will soon follow.”

Again, you don’t know how long you’re out, but at some point, you come to. You feel sticky, your clothes clinging to your sweat-slicked skin; your head still pounds, and your stomach still turns, but your mind is once again your own. As your vision clears, you let out a sigh of relief; Halsin remains in front of you, mercifully unharmed.

His gaze holds yours, searching for you. And he finds you.

Rising to his feet, he steps behind you and cuts your binds; your freed arms settle in your lap, the muscles screaming, and your wrists and hands caked in dried blood. Tentative, you flex your fingers, the maroon stain cracking and falling from your skin.

Halsin returns in front of you and sits back down. His expression is relieved, but as the seconds pass, it shifts to something far more serious.

“I am overjoyed to have you back,” he begins, “but we need to discuss what happened.”

Your head drops, shame filling you. With a deep breath, you let everything out: divulging the severity of your Dark Urge, how often it haunts your thoughts and dreams, the little creature that calls himself your butler, your mysterious father you’re supposed to please.

Those hazel eyes are hard, his brows pinched; Halsin is deep in his thoughts, sifting through the heavy truth you’ve just shared. And all you can do is sit and wait, anxiety boiling within as you await his response. Will he claim you too dangerous to live? An unnatural being, something that disrupts the world’s balance? Perhaps simply cast you out, banish you from the camp as he’s unable to bring himself to end you?

Your hands are suddenly gifted his warmth, his own gently caressing yours. He dips a rag in a bowl of water beside him and begins cleaning your wounds, his touch impossibly gentle.

“In all my years, I’ve not come across anything quite like this,” he finally speaks. “But I stand by my words. You will not lose me. And I will not let you lose yourself to this Urge.”

He puts the rag aside and casts a healing spell; the golden glow fills the space between you, and the torn skin pulls back together. Your wrists still ache, still feel some remnant of the deep injuries, but it’s barely more than a pinprick to you.

His hands remain on yours, but you feel disgusted and have to fight the temptation to pull away. You should be left to rot, ended now to protect everyone around, to protect him.

“I’m a monster,” you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve taken countless lives. I don’t even know the depth of my crimes. I’m an abomination now, and I know… I just know I was fully embracing this Dark Urge before I lost my memories.” Your throat feels as though it’s being stabbed. “You should end me.”

Your head is guided up, his thumb under your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“The Urge is a monster,” he argues. “You, the person you are now, is utterly incredible. And having learned just how hard a battle you face with this evil, I am in awe.”

The tears fall from your cheeks, and while you still don’t believe you deserve a single utterance he’s given, you’re grateful beyond what words could express.

Halsin wipes them away, and his hands remain along your jaw.

“We will free you from this abomination,” he swears, “and your mind, your heart, your soul, will be entirely yours. And you will see just how extraordinary you are.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #halsin #baldur's gate iii #durge #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #durge x halsin #halsin x durge #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate #fic: treasures the night bestows

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prettyiwa · 3 years

Text

AO3 | Fic Page | NSFT 18+ | Playlist (🎵)

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader Rating: Mature 18+ Content Warnings: Post-Time Skip, Manga Spoilers, Vignette, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Smut, Oral (F! Receiving) Summary: Hajime finds himself thoroughly enjoying his favorite way to tell you that he loves you the night before your anniversary. Word Count: 570 Network: @sakuroo, @izzabeean

A/N: Written for @monsteur's "I Love You." Collab, featuring the second to last installment of over the course of 24 hours. This was going to be completely different—both the last entry piece and the piece I wanted to submit for the collab, but something about domestic and devoted Iwa hits home in a way that I need right now. So... enjoy~ 😘

I love you.

It’s quietly pressed into each kiss he bestows upon you when you return from long shifts spent in rotation. He’s certain to wrap you in it, tenderly unraveling you from the stressors of the day until you’re putty in his hands. You melt against him, allowing him to take care of you after you spent the day taking care of others.

I love you.

The act of holding his arms wide open for you before you press yourself to him, before he closes his arms around you, keeping you close. A mess of tangled limbs as tranquility takes hold of you both, fingers tracing unintelligible patterns into each other’s skin. Talking about the day, the past, the future, all in gentle, dulcet tones that communicate the comfort found in the other.

I love you.

Massaged into stiff muscles after training with professional athletes for hours on end, dealing with personalities much more persistent than those in high school. Hands that never leave him, that stay attached, offering relief and support, the kind he never knew he needed until he had met you.

I love you.

A thousand little ways to communicate his feelings, your feelings because it took him a while to learn that you say it with touch rather than with words. Not that you don’t say it, but you prefer to put more stock into actions rather than words, into physical affection given rather than verbal affection.

You love so freely, give so freely that it took him so long to figure out that you had been revealing your romantic intentions, your romantic feelings for longer than he had realized. It took him far too long to realize that your touch was reserved for him and him alone, so he treasures it above all else, reciprocates with such tenderness that it’s love overflowing.

“Hajime,” you murmur as he traces the curves of your body with his lips. Even though he knows your body like the back of his hand, he takes his time as though he’s exploring it for the first time, relishing each breathy sigh, each subdued moan, each soft invocation you offer. His fingers intertwine with yours, pinning them to your sides as he makes his way down your body.

I love you.

The feel of you against him fills his heart. You calm him, excite him, reassure him of your presence, of the vow you two made to one another a year ago. Ten years of history put into each touch, the promise of more to come stitched into the curve of your lips as they caress his skin.

You start to squirm against him, start to writhe in his grasp and your small whimpers turn into breathy moans. Nails start biting into the skin of the back of his hand as he buries himself between your legs, reminding you how he’s waited for this, for the chance to worship you through the night before having a shared day off for your anniversary.

“Hajime—” A fevered pitch, tapered off into a whine announcing your first climax of the night. From his position between your thighs, he can see the small furrowing of your brow, the desperate look in your eyes, the love that pools within just before you tense and tremble under his touch.

You don’t need to say it for him to hear it, for him to feel it.

I love you, too.

❰ over the course of 24 hours | Three Choices ❱

#iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi hajime x reader #''I love you.'' collab #🏐.haikyuu!!#✒.ix writes #✒.otc24

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knjsnoona · 3 years

Text

Restoration

genre: smut || slice of life pairing: jin x reader word Count: 10.1k rating: 18+ warnings: language, light dom!jin, explicit sexual descriptions, choking, fingering summary: Return to your childhood hone with your partner, Jin only to discover how much it’s changed. project: this part of the bcc summer games event~ it’s was for the image prompt which is the one under the name of the fic in the banner lol this was meant to be short, but then i included this whole first half smh credits: a HUGE thank you goes to my amazing beta reader @destructiveasparagus ! helped me find where my weaknesses lie and super incredibly helpful in how to learn from my mistakes! thank you so so much! i hope to improve with my future works!

It had been a long time since you’d been to your hometown, so long you barely recognized it as you drove in with your fiancé. Streets you once ran around on as a child—knowing each backstreet like the back of your hand—now seemed like the paths of a maze; roads that stirred distant memories of laughter and joy.

Eyes catching new shops where your favorite childhood hangouts once stood, a dull ache laced with both nostalgia and discomfort begins to stir within you. It seems the town had decided to be more modern… more suburban you guessed. It kind of made you sad if you were honest with yourself. You were expecting to return to the home you once loved, and to be bathed in the memories of each corner, shop, and alley.

Becoming more frustrated with each new sight you didn’t recognize, you sink into your seat releasing a sigh. Crossing your arms loosely over your chest, you look down at your knees. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you pondered what your neighborhood would look like. You hoped against hope that at least that small corner of your memories wouldn’t be betrayed.

“You okay?”

Catching your attention, you look to the side at your fiancé who had turned to look at you as he made a stop at a red light. His handsome features twisted into concern, which brought a small smile to your lips. Softly nodding, you try to assuage his worries.

“I’m fine, Seokjin. Just realizing how long it’s been since I was home is all,” melancholy weaving into your voice, gaze forlornly sweeping out the windows of the vehicle again.

“Changed that much, huh?” eyes still on you, every so often shuffling to make sure the street light hadn’t changed yet.

You nod, watching as a couple of teenage girls walk with some name brand iced coffees in their hands, eyes glued to their phones, as they giggled about something mundane. Feeling like a creep for staring, you shake your head and look back at the man by your side. “It’s definitely changed.... too much.”

God, you’d never identified with a boomer harder than you did at this very moment. Words of when I was kid at the tip of your tongue, wanting to rant about all the things you remembered as a kid and how it had been ruined now. You’d never regretted leaving home before, not until this moment. All of your treasured spots, destroyed by gentrification. How depressing.

But then you look at what you had gained from your departure from home and you realize how silly you’re being. You had found tons of struggle out in the world on your own. Learned what it was like to truly live in a woman’s world; having to work twice as hard for half the pay of a man; earning the way you had to always be cautious and on the lookout for dangers that lurked around every corner when the sun went down; learned how to pick yourself back up and work harder, when you were passed up on a promotion in favor of the manager’s son.

But you made it through every obstacle. You were a fighter, and never shied away from fighting to get what you wanted. To deal with the dangers of walking around at night, you took self defense classes. You quit the job that underpaid you. And when the manager at that other job finally offered you that promotion, you gave them your two weeks. You decided to take a position at a startup company that saw your worth, valued your opinions and took your ideas into consideration. A company where you were promoted and given more power to help it grow. It had grown into a multimillion-dollar business. Whose technology had been implemented in every hospital in the country. And the genius behind its creation and production sat by your side.

Kim Seokjin had been a godsend. You’d bumped into him one night at a bar after a particularly rough day of work. You had dropped into the seat beside him, not sparing a single glance his way as you ordered a beer. Shoulders slumping, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration pushing your tears back in. Noticing your distress, he reached out to you. He asked after your well being, taking you by surprise. Cautiously you spoke to him that night, only to be pleasantly surprised by his kind nature. While sharing the struggles of your days with each other, he brought up his start up and how he was looking to fill the position. Handing you a card before you both parted ways, he offered you a position without even knowing your qualifications.

Long story short, you took the position, worked your way up and fell in love with the company's CEO. Of course, there were those that always felt the need to fill the office with unnecessary drama. Hushed whispers in the break rooms, and muttered words across the cubicles of how you had slept your way to the top. But you shrugged them all off, no water off a duck’s back right? Besides, how do you sleep your way to the top of a tiny startup? There was no top or bottom. The tomfoolery of the envious, honestly.

The car jerking into motion brings you back to the present. Blinking the memories of the past decade or so out of the way. Vision returning to your present day home town, suddenly not so bothered by the changes. Your home had grown up and adapted, just as you had. That thought alone brings a smile to your face. A hand slipping over your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you completely beam as you take Jin's hand in your own ringed hand. Placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand, as you hold it tenderly in your lap, his quiet laugh filling the space in the car as you continued on your way.

Some ten minutes later, you pull up the front of your childhood home; warmth filling your chest as you notice how little it’s changed. Aside from a few cosmetic changes it was still the same. And there they were, all the memories rushing in at once. The feelings you had been anticipating finally hit you. Now you felt like you were truly home as you were surrounded by all the wonderful memories of your childhood.

A gentle hand on your lower back brings you back, you smile up at Jin who stands by your side. A reassuring smile adorns his plush lips, as he rubs small circles on your back in a show of support and affection.

“You ready?”

Taking one large lung full of air, you hold it for a couple beats before deflating and nodding up at him. The steadying warmth of his hand on your lower back fills you with all the confidence you needed as you made your way up the stone patch.

Worries of how your family would react to you being back niggling the back of your mind. You tried to keep in touch as much as you could but there were times it was almost impossible due to financial stability or work load. Damn, a small bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. So you stand frozen, finger just a few inches from the doorbell. Maybe you should’ve called before showing up.

Sensing your internal struggle, Jin wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Plush lips press to the crown of your head leaving a quick kiss. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe,” he whispers into your hair.

“How do you know? I mean- I’ve been gone so long… they have to be angry with me. What if they think I don't care?” you fret, teeth gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt, wrinkling the smooth fabric in the anxiety.

Chuckling softly, the arm around you turns you to face the tall male. Eyes roam your face, a warmth in them that always somehow seem to soothe your nerves. And sooth they did as you could feel your worries begin to ebb away.

“Hey, none of that,” he chastises, as he presses his hand lightly to your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip down. “You’re going to chew yourself raw. And we don’t want that. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips as if to soothe away any stinging there.

Your lips can’t help but spread into a smile at how he was being such a mother hen. He was always like this, not just with you but with his employees as well. It’s what made him such a good boss, and an even better partner. Lady luck was feeling extremely generous the day she led you to Jin in that quaint bar.

Returning your smile, he quickly places multiple kisses around your face—on your nose, your cheeks, and your forehead. Arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, as you giggle at the onslaught of kisses he bestowed you with. The sound of his mirth joining yours, pulling back to hold your cheeks gently. Eyes looking into your own as he assures you, “Everything is going to be fine, so stop stressing for once. We’re here to relax okay?”

Sighing, you nod with a smile still perched on your face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. And the most handsome!” all the confidence in the world seeping out of his words, smugness painting over his pretty features.

You scoff playfully, smacking his arm. “And yet you like claiming you’re humble,” shaking your head you turn back to the door and ring the doorbell without hesitation.

“Well, I’m not bragging if it’s a fact,” comes his witty retort which has your eyes rolling. This was nothing new with him, the man knew he was good looking. I mean you’d have to be blind to not think so as well. But you know, can’t let his ego inflate too big.

“I don’t know… I've seen better looking,” you shrug nonchalantly as you press the doorbell again, hoping someone was actually home. Yeah, you definitely should’ve called ahead.

“What? Where? Who is he!? Wait, are you talking about that kid in marketing? What’s his name?” he instantly barrages you with a succession of questions, jealousy bleeding into his tone. “That pretty boy with the deep voice! You-”

He’s suddenly cut off by the jingling of a handle and the lock being turned, as the door swings open. Your mother stands before you, surprise marring her features. Features that remained the same after all these years, a few wrinkles showing her age joined the painting that was your mother’s face. You’d pictured—imagined—scenarios of seeing her again, of how it would go but the feelings you felt now were far more intense than anything your mind could conjure up. .

You were sure the shock she wore was mirrored by you, as you stood there taking the other in. Your heart hammered away at your chest, pumping emotions into every vein throughout your body until it began to leak out of your eyes. As the first drop made it’s journey down your cheek, you stepped forward prompting your mother to mirror your actions, crashing into each other's arms. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so much and up until that point had been unaware that you had missed being held in the arms of your mother.

You could feel her tears seep through the shirt on your shoulder, happy greetings and words blubbered in excitement. Laughing you pull back enough to look at her, a watery smile greeting you.

“I’ve missed you, Momma,” your voice trembling with the emotions overtaking you.

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you safe and healthy. I was worried you weren’t eating well this whole time. I know how you can get, you get too involved in what you’re working on and forget to eat,” your mother rambles on, word vomit just pouring out of her. All the words she hasn’t been able to share with you now fill the space between you. As a teenager you would’ve been annoyed, but now as a grown adult you were endeared by her light nagging.

“She still does that,” Jin's voice catching both of your attention. “Not eat, I mean.”

You turn to him, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, and an incredulous look on yours. Wow, not even two minutes, and he was already selling you out to your mother. You shake your head at him, eyes trying to signal for him to stop. He simply chuckles back.

“Oh is that right?” Your mother gives you a look, before looking back at your handsome partner. “And who might this be?” Eyebrows raise in question to you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Momma, this is my, um, fiancé, Kim Seokjin. Jin this is my mother,” you awkwardly introduce them. Biting the corner of your lip as you look at your mother out of the corner of your eye.

She looks at you, surprised at your engaged status, which you hadn’t had the chance to bring up during the brief, rare calls home. You can see the message hidden in her eyes, we’ll talk about this later, before turning to Jin. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My, you’re a handsome one.”

You close your eyes and internally groan before turning to Jin pointing a cocky smile your way. He sure was annoying when he was proven right. Gloating prick.

He gives you a quick eyebrow wiggle before turning to smile at your mother. “You’re too kind, really,” acting embarrassed, as he rubs the back of his neck and bows in gratitude once more.

“Oh! And he’s modest!” your mothers cheers delightedly.

Wow, he pulled the fake modesty card. You shake your head at him as you quietly scoff, lips almost quirked in a smile, as he winks at you. He was something else. But he was your something else. He was worth it. Headaches, terrible jokes and all.

“So… is anyone else home?” you questioned, curious as to whether your father, or if any of your siblings, were around. You weren’t sure if they’d be as welcoming as your mother, but her warmth and acceptance of you returning gave you the confidence to continue forward.

Your mother nods at you excitedly, wrapping an arm around yours and moving you towards the door. Jin follows behind amused as your mother explains how one of your aunts was visiting with her family, and how a couple of your siblings were in town. She went a mile a minute, spewing out even the latest family gossip—your father’s brother had cheated on his wife, your cousin had come out of the closet after being caught mid act (“What a scandalous event that was!”) and even how your mother’s eldest sister had beat breast cancer.

You sighed happily as you let your mother lead the way, Jin flanking behind you. Man it felt good to be home.

“We got incredibly lucky,” you said loudly, as you placed a small pile of folded clothes in a drawer. Pacing back over to the suitcase on the bed, pulling out your underwear to place in the same drawer to one side.

“What?” Jin called from the room over.

“I said we got lucky!” you replied, voice louder than before.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. We‘re lucky they didn’t charge a cancellation fee at the hotel.”

Your mother, after making the rounds with the family, had insisted you stay in your old room. You were surprised that it had remained as you had left it. You were sure it would’ve been turned into a home gym by now, or a man cave for your brother that was still home. The fact that it was still intact, filled you with emotion. Your mother must have held out hope you’d come back, so when she insisted you agreed, unable to deny her request.

Of course there was the task of cancelling your hotel reservation, which everyone knows last minute cancellations come with some hefty cancellation fees. You felt bad as you had dialed the number on your cell, but Jin assured you it was fine and was worth it if you were happy.

As Jin worked on unloading the luggage, you spoke with the concierge who upon looking up the reservation, gifted you with the surprise of not incurring a late fee. You had been surprised and tried to verify the cancellation policy to which the male on the other end confirmed there would be no charge and wished you a pleasant day. You returned the sentiment as you hung up and looked at your partner in mild stupor before relaying the information to which he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, bringing in the rest of your belongings.

“You're still stuck on that?” he points out, humor ringing in his voice.

“Well, isn’t it a bit surprising to you?” you huff, cheeks puffing a bit in a pout.

“I guess…” he trails off momentarily. You could hear the gears turning before he returned with, “Maybe it’s because they saw who I was.”

“What? Why would that matter?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and could already feel your eyes preemptively rolling.

“Because, I’m the youngest, most handsome CEO in the nation.” A wheezing laugh following his words, almost sounding like windshield wipers.

Your eyes roll so hard, you see the back of your skull, and into an alternate universe. Why did you put up with him again? And as the sound of a door opening fills the space, you remember one of the reasons as he walks through the door. Towel wrapped loosely around his hips, muscles flexing as he rubbed his hair dry with another towel, he stood in all his glory. Your eyes chase drops of water running down his wet skin, swallowing hard where they disappear into the material knotted around his narrow hips.

“Sweetheart, you’re making me blush with all the ogling,” he chuckles smugly. “I get it though.”

You snap out of your daze, eyes narrowing at his cocky face in annoyance. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore him—turning back to your bag, grabbing some of your toiletries to place on the dresser. Distracted by your task you don’t notice Jin walk up behind you, until you’re tugged back into his wet torso.

“You know,” he mutters into your ear, “I haven’t forgotten that little quip from earlier.” One of his large hands slides up your body, finding its home wrapped around your jaw. He tilts your head back into his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you further into his form. “You think that kid in the office is better looking than me.”

You take a few calming breaths, body becoming alert with excitement as Jin invades your space. Every word and touch begins to stir desire within you.

“I never said that. You assumed… you know what they say about when you assume,” you can’t help but gibe, lips tugging up in a smirk.

A growl rumbles through you as the grip on your jaw tightens slightly. “Don't be a smart ass… I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no one is aware. I’m not an idiot.”

You chuckle, unable to help yourself. His jealous words turn you on more than they should.

“I can’t help it if he’s pretty to look at,” you state complacently.

“Pretty?” he chuckles at your audacity, grip tightening slightly around your jaw. Swinging your jaw away from the direction of his face, the feel of his lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. “You do look at him. Tell me, do you fantasize about him?”

Your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath traveling through your trapped body; an aching starting to pulse between your thighs. Hands moving back to rest on his towel covered thighs to help maintain balance, but more importantly to assist in feeling grounded.

“You do, don't you…?” His nose nuzzles at your ear, lips pressing behind your ear. “Is that why you stare? Because you imagine what it would be like to have him inside you?” the arm wrapped around your waist loosens, hand traveling south to the apex of your thighs.

You bite your lip, unable to answer his questions. His touch leaves trails of flames wherever they roam, burning any words from you. His words are simmering your blood.

“Is your silence an admission?” he says with a slight edge to his voice. “You imagine him sliding into you? Taking you? As if you're his?” His grip on your jaw moves to your throat, fingers wrapping deliciously around the smooth muscle and flesh.

“You’ll never be his,” he hisses. The hand between your thighs grips your core tightly, a whine escaping your lips at the slight pain and pleasure. “This,” grip tightening for emphasis, “is mine! Your cunt belongs to me. My cock will be the only one to ever claim it,” Jin growls into your ear, hips pressing his hard member into your ass.

Fuck, that was enough to ruin your underwear. His words release the floodgates, slick escaping your lower lips to soak your panties. The growl rumbling against your back, and vibrating in your ear has your mind blanking for a moment, thighs clenching involuntarily around his wrist.

“Turned on by that?” he crows, self gratification filling every word. “Do you like hearing me claim you? The affirmation that no other man will ever ruin this pretty pussy like me?”

Your breath hitches, a strong pulse running through your body like seismic activity relaying that an eruption is imminent. With the way Jin is rutting into your back, hand gently petting your mound, it was only a matter of time before he had you bursting in ecstasy.

His lips lightly trail up and down the shell of your ear, removing his hand from your throat to grip at your jaw and tilt your face up at him. Faces so close, your noses brush, breaths intermingling. He pulls back his head, looking down at you as the corner of his lip lifts in smirk just as he shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear. Long, warm fingers softly run over your lips, massaging gentle circles into them.

Licking his luscious lips, he hisses when one his fingers swipes between your lips. “Fuck,” he groans, biting his thick lip. “You’re this wet from a few words... '' A finger swirling around your opening, spreading your juices. The digit slides up to your sensitive nub, giving it the same attention. Pressing down with a bit of pressure, rolling it around making you arch your back, eyes clenching.

You feel Jin nudge your nose with his own, brushing his lips against yours. Eyes fluttering open, they meet his dark eyes, completely blow black from his arousal. Pink muscle slipping from his lips, sliding across yours teasingly while his hips slowly press against yours to get a bit of relief as your hands grip the towel resting over his flexing thighs. Your lips part, inviting his devilish tongue in, the prelude of you parting your legs for his length.

Taking the invitation, Jin shoves his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The moist muscle wrestling with yours as you kiss each other desperately. Both of you beyond the point of slow and steady when he shoves two digits into your core, his mouth trapping the groan he rips out of you. With no patience, the digits set a steady pace as his palm presses into your clit. Your hips buck at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Your lips crash against each other like waves, teeth clacking as you try to get closer.

He pulls back from the kiss provoking a whine from you. His jaw clenches as his fingers fuck into your hole, scissoring your walls, preparing you for him. You press your ass into him, feeling how hard he is, your walls quiver around his fingers.

“No more,” you moan quietly.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” he lazily grins down at you, grinding the palm of his palm down on your nub.

Your eyebrows pinch at the stimulation, lips parting without a sound escaping before you’re able to gather your senses again. “No… no more foreplay.” Your lusty gaze meets his, your chest heaving as you try to even it out. “I want you inside me now,” reaffirming how it was only him you wanted.

He pulls you into a hard kiss, pulling his hand out of your pants. Releasing your jaw, he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs. Lifting your legs to kick them off, he rotates your bodies to walk you back into the bed, nearly ripping your shirt off you. You almost fall as your legs hit the bed, ripping his lips from yours. You both gasp for air as you stare at each other for a moment.

His hand slides into your hair, scratching soothingly at your scalp before gripping it in a firm hold. Turning your face to the side, he leans in, licking a stripe up your neck to your ear. He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth teasingly tugging it. Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, he nuzzles the hair behind it, breath tickling your ear pleasurably.

“Turn around. I want you bent over this bed, with your ass in the air for me. I want to see how your cunt weeps for me.”

His words strike a hard cord within you, goosebumps appearing all over your flesh. You bite your lip, turning your body away from him and move into position. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he uses the grip on your strands to push you down further into the comforter, back completely arched now.

Strands slipping between his fingers as he removes his hand, the other palms your ass cheek, pulling it to the side to look at your core. The groan that leaves him makes you clench.

“Look how pretty… so wet and inviting. Look how your hole clenches, begging for my dick.” His other hand grabs onto the opposite cheek, pulling it away to open you even more to him. Pressing his hips to yours, he slots his length against your soaked lips. Slowly rubbing his member up and down, lubricating himself with your slick.

Every word makes you clench, the desire raging inside you growing desperate for him to fill you. Every throb of the thick shaft almost makes you delirious.

Eyes previously squeezed shut flutter open, as your hands grip the comforter. A childish print catches your attention, suddenly the realization hits you. You’re back at your childhood home, in a house full of relatives. You weren’t alone in this house, and they weren’t asleep. Now that you had awareness, you could hear them beyond the door chattering. You had let lust get away with you.

“Jin wait…” you hiss.

He stops all movement, one of hands gently petting your lower back. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” worry slipping into his words.

“No no. You didn’t hurt me. I just… I realized we’re not alone. We can’t do this here. My family is right out there,” you explain in a loud whisper, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

Silence reigns for a moment.

“So?” Jin's single word pierces the quiet.

“What?” you question, baffled by his nonchalance.

“What does that matter?” He shifts before pressing against you, the head of his cock prodding at your bud. He leans over your back, hands resting on your hips. “It doesn’t bother me, and it never has to you either. You never complain when I fuck you in my office, surrounded by all of our coworkers... our employees.”

You swallow hard.

“In fact, you love initiating it. Teasing me in front of them, riling me up.” His hips thrust, length slipping between your lower lips, cushioned comfortably between them.

“T-that’s different.” you try to argue, but his throbbing manhood against you makes it hard. “Thi-this is my family… who I haven't seen in a long time. I can’t h-have them thinking badly of me.”

He’s quiet but for a minute before wrapping a hand around your mouth. “Then you better keep quiet,” is the quick warning he hisses in your ear as he pushes his length into you.

His hand traps the sound of your yelp. Your walls stretch deliciously but sting at his abrupt intrusion as he buries himself completely. He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust, placing gentle kisses over your shoulder. His hand massages circles into your hip.

Unable to verbally notify him it was okay to move, you opt for using your hips as you push back against him. Getting the hint, his hips pull back slowly before pushing back in at the same agonizingly passive pace. Lips still pressing kisses to your soft skin, hips lazily snapping into you .

You whine, wanting more.

“Needy already,” he chuckles and places one last kiss to your flesh before standing to his full height. Both hands now resting on your hips, pulling you back so he can grind himself inside your spongy walls. “Remember, not a sound. Your family is out there.”

What a jackass, you can’t help but think as you glare back at him, that damn cocky smile on his lips. You open your mouth to retort but it quickly snaps shut as he pulls back and snaps back in. The action was so hard, you almost thought he’d speared straight into your stomach.

He slides out slowly again before plunging roughly back in. Filling you so completely, each hard impale burning pleasurably. Hands sliding to push your cheeks apart, he watches himself disappear between your folds as he sets a steady pace.

The sound of your sex gushing with each probe of his shaft makes you grow wetter. Slick running down the inside of your thighs, as he pushes it out of you, clit pulsing with each invasion.

It isn’t long before he angles his hips, in search of that spot he enjoys so much. It’s with one particular push that he finds it, as you lifted onto your toes and arched your back signaling him. A whine trapped behind teeth that bite down hard on your lips as he hits it again is all the confirmation he needs.

He sets about burrowing into you, head meeting that patch of spongy tissue over and over;building an inferno in the pit of your stomach with each visit. Your legs begin to tremble as you part your lips.

“H-harder, please,” you quietly moan, almost breathless, trying to keep your volume down.

“Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” His thrusts turn piercing. Hips smacking into yours hard, hands gripping you bruisingly hard. Over the smacks of your hips that filled the room, you can hear him groan softly with each shove. It made you clench around him, causing his hips to stutter briefly before returning to their bruising pace.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. You're soaking my thighs baby,” he groans out, smacking into you harder. “Squeezing me so tight, begging me to fuck you harder.”

A smack to your behind pulls a yelp from you. Panicking, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, hoping no one heard that. Worry niggling at you again before it’s promptly fucked right out of you by Jin's hips speeding up their brutal pace.

“I wish I could hear you baby,” he rasps, sounding just as breathless as you are. “I want to hear you moan for me… begging to cum… I want to hear you scream my name.”

You feel the bed dip beside you, as he places a foot down. Elevating his leg, he creates a new angle to spear your core. Hands finding purchase above your hips, he anchors his hold, hips pulled back.

“Remember… we don't want to get found out.”

With those words he pushes into you quickly and roughly. Each thrust drags you to and fro on the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against the material. His hips unrelenting in their assault of you. Pistoning deep, making sure to brush your g-spot with each insertion.

His actions have you crying into the comforter, as it catches and cushions your cries, groans and mantras of his name. Hands clenching the material so tight, your fingers were going numb. You wanted to fuck back into him, but his tight grip on you and his brutal pace allowed no room to.

“Fuck your so good to me. Your pussy is so perfect. So tight and warm. And it's. Only. Mine.” Accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. Laying his full claim to your core.

Fingers wrapping in your tangled strands, he guides you to stand, back leaning against his chest as the other hand grips your throat, fingers pressing down on your pressure points. The pressure fueling the fire of your impending orgasm, as the new angle only adds fuel to the already roaring wildfire.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he growls into your ear.

You hardly breath, nevermind gracing him with an answer. But as he adds pressure to your throat, you gasp out, “You.”

“That’s right,” he moans, self-satisfied, slowing his pace to grind into you slow and deep. “Mine. Only mine to ruin. Only mine to paint with my cum.”

His words hit you hard, as you clench hard around him, groaning in sync with him as waves pulse through you. You were so close, you knew he could tell as the fingers previously tangled in your hair, now pressed circles into the bundle of nerves buried in your folds.

You throw your head back, gasps of air leaving your parted lips. Your nails dig into the sweaty flesh of his thighs, hips bucking back into his. You try your hardest to not be too loud, as your face twists into nothing but pure pleasure.

You were so close, so close you were quietly pleading Jin to cum. His name becomes a prayer on your lips, that fuels his own need. The sound of his name desperately falling from your lips makes him almost feral in the way he fucks you. Plunging into you so hard and fast, that the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard through the room, the sound accompanied by the filthy sounds of your dripping arousal.

A guttural moan leaves your lips, as he pinches your bud, which he promptly cuts off by slotting his mouth over yours. Kissing you greedly, wanting to swallow every wanton sound.

The next moment, a fire spreads through your veins, as your whole body seizes at the arrival of your orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure, swallowed as promised by Jin's mouth as he kisses you sloppily. Your hips buck into his digits as they continue to stimulate your nub.

Jin’s hips continue to push through your ever tightening walls and begin to stutter in their assault, just before he pushes deep inside as you feel him paint your walls. Now it’s your turn to ingest all the sounds of his orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens, making you light headed with pleasure, as his other hand over stimulates your nub, thighs tightening to stop him.

Milking himself dry, he soon slows down and comes to a complete stop. Pulling your lips apart, a string of saliva keeps your bruised lips connected. The grip around your hips sustains your standing position, as your legs feel weak post orgasm.

Jin’s ever softening length, slips out of you making you both shiver. Gentle as he could be, he guides you to take a seat on the bed.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you at all?” He looks you over, checking for any bruises from his manhandling.

This is what made him such an amazing lover. How caring he is about his partner after making love to them. It was always so fascinating to see him turn from domineering to self-effacing. Always taking care to ask how you felt after, soothing any places he may have gone too far and holding you gently in his arms.

It simply warms your heart, as you smile up at his broad shouldered form standing before you. Placing a hand over the one he’d placed on your cheek and giving it a reassuring squeeze, you say, “I’m fine, Jin. I always am when I'm with you,”

He beams down at you just before he places a kiss lovingly on your forehead. Thumb caressing your cheek, resting his forehead against yours. A warmth radiating from his eyes as he traps you in his gaze.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the words said so simply, stomach a buzz with a storm of bees. You would never tire of hearing him say them to you, always feeling like the first time he’d confessed the depth of his feelings.

“I love you more,” you return, biting your lip giddily.

A smile reaches his eyes, as he grins widely. His cheeks puff up, giving him the look of an adorable squirrel storing acorns. His lips press to yours, no movement necessary. Just a simple press, feeling more intimate than what you had previously been engaged in.

He pulls back with a questioning look in his eyes, when he feels you shiver, almost spilling from his lips before you speak.

“Sorry, um just felt it slipping out of me,” you murmur, embarrassed, eyes not meeting his.

He chuckles, wide shoulders shaking in his mirth. Kissing you again he mutters, “You’re so cute sometimes.”

Slipping an arm around your back and one beneath your knees, he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in confusion. He ignores your inquisitive eyes, making his way to the door he’d left not long before that led to your en suite bathroom.

“I think we should take a shower.”

“You just had a shower.”

“Yes, but after working up a sweat I need another, and together we can help preserve water.”

You roll your eyes, skeptical of him. “Sure, but no funny business!”

“No promises.”

You disappear into the bathroom with you protesting and Jin laughing.

You had been back home for a couple of days, and it had been enjoyable to say the least. Getting settled in, introducing Jin to more of your family that stopped by when they heard about your return, catching up with the extended family, and even some of your friends who still lived in town.

Jin seemed happy to be able to relax, your family welcoming him completely. He had admitted to you how much he appreciated being welcomed with open arms. He loved how large your family was, and the affection they shared so easily, compared to his small family of just his parents and himself.

You knew he also loved that they ate up his terrible jokes like hotcakes. Not to mention how your mother seemed to love cooking him meals, always blushing when he praised the meals and asking for seconds. It was also obvious how much your family stroked his ego when they complimented his looks. You knew this would be bad once the time came for you to go back to your shared home, ego so inflated you weren’t sure you’d be able to fit in the car with him. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t content at how things had turned out.

You had only gone out once since arriving, taking a stroll through the new town center, hands held in his as he listened attentively to you recount tales of your childhood. Every so often you’d stop and point out a location, describing what once took up residence in the spot of a newly erected business or apartment complex. You had stayed out till the sun had begun to make its descent, ice creams in hand as you walked back to your home.

It was that same evening upon returning home to have dinner with your family—filling your family in on your adventures—that your mother informed you about the state of your favorite place growing up. Feeling your heart drop, as she described it in more detail. When you had made your way to your room afterwards, Jin had stopped you and asked you if you wanted to visit the location. After hearing your mother’s disheartening news you weren’t sure, but Jin simply encouraged you to go see it with your own eyes.

That’s how you now found yourself tripping over a root as you trekked through the small forest not far from your parent’s home. A large hand steadying you before you eat dirt, you murmur a thank you before continuing on your way. It’s not long before you reach a clearing, that only cements your mother’s words as true. Your sad eyes survey the once beautiful lake, now nothing but a public garbage disposal. The water was murky, filled with so much debris and garbage it looked like sludge. The land surrounding the water was no better. The once pristine swimming hole was now a small landfill.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you feel Jin give you a comforting squeeze. You rest your hand over his, intertwining your fingers, you sigh defeatedly, turning to bury your face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he kisses the crown of your head and lays his cheek on it. The two of you bathe in the silence, all signs of forest life now muted in the wake of the destruction of their home. You doubted anyone even still lived here, the land so completely uninhabitable.

“This place used to be so beautiful,” you muse dejectedly, laying your cheek over his heart. “So full of life…”

Jin glides his fingers through your hair, listening closely.

“As a kid, I used to think this was the secret home of a fairy kingdom. Where a kind prince ruled over his subjects with a gentle fist. Adding color, and brilliance to nature here. At least, that’s the story my mother would tell,” you regale him, hands clutching his thin shirt.

“When she would bring my siblings and I here, and the water shimmered so beautifully, she’d say it was the fairy prince welcoming us to play in his kingdom. And when we’d visit in the evening once the sun had dipped down, balls of blinking lights dancing through the cool air, she’d say they were the fairies dancing in glee at our visit.”

You could feel tears form behind your lash line, tilting your head up as to not let them fall. You feel childish speaking of fairy tales to your fiancé, growing upset to the point you’re about to cry over it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. This place was such a large part of your childhood, and if you were honest with yourself, it was the place you had been most anxious to visit. To see it destroyed to this degree broke your heart.

Sensing the dive in your emotions, Jin pulls back, taking your face in his hands, eyes roaming over your face in sympathy. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Maybe we can do something.”

You tilt your head, wondering what he could mean. Blinking up at him, wet lashes sticking together. “What do you mean?”

Placidly smiling down at you, his thumb wipes away the stray tears beneath your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could try to clean up. Try to restore it to its former glory,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping the clearing.

You stupidly blink at him, mouth slightly ajar. Your heart begins to swell with so much affection that it feels as if it could pop out of your chest. The waterworks come back full force, lips trembling with emotion.

Noticing your silence he glances back to you, eyes widening with panic, hands hovering in front of him in uncertainty. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Shaking your head, you throw your arms around him. Burrowing your face into his neck, standing on your tiptoes. “I love you so much,” you tearfully declare.

He returns your hold, lifting you up, an affectionate smile pulling at his plump lips. “What’s all this for, you big softie?” he teasingly murmurs.

“I just… I just feel so lucky to be with you.” You can’t help the emotions pouring out of you, unable to keep them inside when it comes to him. You weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve him, but you swore to whatever entity was out there that you would prove yourself worthy of him. For all the days you were gifted with being by his side, you would be the best partner possible.

“Well you are pretty blessed to look upon this handsome face every day.”

You smack his arm, body shaking with restrained laughter. “You’re incorrigible!” you exclaim, barely containing the joy glowing on your face.

Windshield wiper screeches fill the air, as he backs away from you rubbing at the spot you’d hit. His laugh was something uniquely him that always called attention. No matter whether you found it odd, or not, it always made you join him. It was a trait you found completely endearing.

Your laughs begin to quiet, a few residual chuckles escaping you. You look at each other, affection and mirth mirroring one another.

“Did you really mean it?”

He hums questioningly, raising his brows.

“About trying to clean up here?”

“Of course, I do,” he nods. “We’ve still got a few more days left here. We can go buy industrial trash bags, maybe some equipment to help us pick up the garbage, and we’ll definitely need some protection,” he continues to list off.

A smile growing on your own lips, you hug his arm, squirming against him excitedly. “Okay! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah?” he questions, amused at your behavior. You nod enthusiastically and chuckle, beginning to walk off. “Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present right?”

You agree, a pep to your step excitedly discussing the possibility of hopefully saving a part of your childhood.

“It’s so hot!” you whine, stretching your aching back as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You roll your neck, trying to loosen your tense muscles from being hunched over with the trash pick-up stick.

Since your first visit to the Fae Kingdom, which you had taken to calling it affectionately, you had spent the last few days clearing the area around the body of sludge. It was hard labor and the two of you always arrived home sorely exhausted, passing out as soon as your bodies hit the bed. On a couple of occasions, your siblings joined you carrying some of the workload.

Thanks to their help and the determination to see things through, you were actually able to now see the floor of the hidden glade. There wasn’t much trash left, so you were currently taking care of what was left while Jin was using a pool skimmer to collect the junk in the lake.

It was a particularly sunny, and humid day. The air felt incredibly thick with moisture, making it a bit harder to breathe. Not to mention how you were sweating buckets. You had both shed some layers, hating how uncomfortable it felt to have the fabric sticking to your skin.

After complaining about the heat, you toss your stick on the ground, making your way over to a small blanket you laid out to take breaks. Lowering onto your knees, you grab a bottle of water and take a generous gulp. The cool liquid soothes your rising body temperature. Capping the bottle, you roll it on your forehead, trying to cool yourself down.

Rolling back on your knees, you land with a soft thud on your behind, enjoying the shade the tall trees provided. Taking a deep breath, you release it slowly before choking on it. Coughing violently, as your eyes almost bug out of your head.

Standing about ten feet in front of you, by the edge of the water was a broad shouldered god. Muscles flexing beneath lightly sun kissed skin, beads of sweat rolling down his back, burly arms bulging with each bend as he lifts the skimmer out of the water.

How in the hell was this herculean man real?

You sigh in awe, before looking up, hands clasped together as you whisper a thank you up above.

“What are you doing?”

You jump as his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. Your eyes hastily fall on him as you reply in a high pitch, “Nothing!” Your cheeks begin to warm, staining with embarrassment.

His brows pinch, not fully believing you. Shaking his head, he turns to shake the skimmer into a large black bag. Setting it to the side, he swipes sweat off his brow. He turns and makes his way to you, pulling the work gloves off his large hands, stuffing them in the back pocket of his dark jeans. Coming to a stop at the edge of the blanket, he crouches down reaching his hand out for a drink.

Leaning back, you pull a cool bottle out of the cooler and hand it to him. You watch as he takes a large swig, before swiftly emptying the rest over his head. Brushing his hair back, his dark eyes rest on you. One corner of his plush lips pulls up at the unhidden admiration on your face.

“Come here.” He crooks a finger, signalling you closer.

You blink, lifting up and shuffling on your knees over to him. His hand locks behind your neck pulling you in to steal a kiss, lips brushing yours affectionately. One of your hands finds purchase on a burly shoulder to steady yourself. He pulls back, placing a succession of quick pecks over your pouting lips, pulling giggles out of you.

“I’m sorry. I suddenly realized I hadn't kissed the most beautiful woman today. It had to be quickly amended.”

A large grin breaks over your face at his cheesy words.

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Kim.”

His eyes flash, tongue swiping over his thick lower lip. “Am I? Does that mean I can charm you out of these?” he teases, fingers tugging at your shorts.

You swallow hard, painfully aware of the warm thrum between your thighs. Biting your lip, a protest on the tip of your tongue threatens to expose the unabashed yearning of your heat.

Before you can utter a word, his lips are yours again. The hand behind your neck pulls you closer as he leans over you. A hand on your waist guides you to lie on the blanketed ground, his knee nudging your legs apart to settle between them comfortably. He kisses you languishly, hand releasing your soft strands and sliding to your cheek as he rests his weight on the arm placed by your head. Hips grinding in lazy circles against your mound, drawing a quiet moan.

Suffice to say all thoughts of the heat are replaced by a different kind of heat as your hands slide up the plane of muscles you had been admiring not long ago. You feel every flex of his back as his hips continue their languorous movements. You bend your knees, widening the space for him invitingly.

It’s as his hand descends to take hold of your left breast that you hear something in the distance. You ignore it thinking maybe it was a rustling branch or bush. Giving your breast a squeeze, Jin spreads even more heat to your core, and just as you’re about to groan your breath hitches as the sounds are closer this time.

“Jin! Sis! Are you guys here?”

Your eyes bug open, staring into Jin's equally stunned gaze before you both spring apart. A tangle of limbs, wrestling to separate from each other. It’s when you’re finally sitting in your own personal spaces that you notice a hitch in your situation. Jin’s erection was pitching a lovely tent in his semi loose jeans. His hands covered it, a pained look on his face as he cursed. Hearing the crunch of leaves close by springs you into action just as your siblings walk out of the tree line.

“Oh there you guys are,” the oldest declares, pointing you out to the others.

You smile over at them innocently from your position between Jin's legs, back resting against his naked chest, his arms resting around your waist. You both wave at them, thanking powers at be for the humidity today helping to disguise your flushed skin.

“Oh, hey! We didn’t know you guys were coming by today.” Jin greets nonchalantly, raising an arm to wave at them.

“Well,” the youngest speaks up this time, hand rubbing the back of their neck, ”we weren’t going to but when we realized what the weather was like out, we couldn’t let you guys deal with it all alone.”

You can’t help but smile at them in appreciation. “Thank you guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“This is our waterhole, we have to help too,” your middle sibling declares, pounding a fist into their chest dramatically.

You roll your eyes as they grin at you.

“Well let’s get to it, fam!” cheers the youngest.

“We’ll join you in a moment, just taking a short break,” you inform them.

“No worries, take your time. This heat is no joke.” They wave you off as they set up their equipment and bags.

You realise a sigh, reiterating your thanks as they go about cleaning. You watch them a moment before twisting your head to the side. “You wanna get a hold on yourself now?” you hiss over your shoulder. Jin’s prominent erection poking at your back, showing no signs of deflating any time soon.

He wraps his arms around you pulling closer. “I can’t help it, not when that perfect ass keeps pushing back on me.” he whispers into your ear. “And did you know your shoulders turn me on too? They’re so perfect for grabbing onto when I fuck into you from be-”

A yelp of pain gets your sibling’s attention, heads swiveling to look over you guys. Jin folded over, hand clutching at his right side where you’d elbowed him.

“He’s got a stitch in his side from cleaning out the lake. Sorry to scare you guys,” you give as an explanation, waving off their concerned gazes. Feeling bad, your oldest sibling decides to take over lake duty, telling you guys to take your time resting.

You nod gratefully, before turning your attention back to the frustratingly handsome man behind you. “Get a hold of yourself! Or you won’t be touching me for the next week!”

He looks at you in indignation, sputtering to find a response. “You can’t do that! We leave in a few days! We can finally go back to loud unfiltered sex!”

You twist around and smack a hand over his mouth. “I’m not kidding! Get it together, my siblings are here,” your eyes blazing with intent.

He removes your hand as he clears his throat. A playful glint in his eyes before he opens his obnoxious mouth. “You know you’re hot when you’re angry?” he manages before breaking out into his signature high pitched laugh.

Face flushing in annoyance, you smack his bare arm. “Fine! Good luck hiding it on your own!” you fume, leaning forward to push yourself up.

You don’t get far, as he cages you quickly with his arms, pulling you back against him, a panicked no permeating the humid air. You huff, as you feel the wind almost knock out of you at the force he uses to pull you back into place.

“Well are you gonna behave?” an unsaid ultimatum weaved into the question.

“Ah! It’s not my fault you’re so attractive! How can you blame me like this!” he continues to whine, like a petulant child not allowed to play with their favorite toy.

The pair of you continue to bicker, as your siblings slave away in restoring the clearing. It’s not long before they grow hot, exhausted by the muggy air engulfing them. Their patience and kindness waning, complaints for you both to hurry and join them—which you promptly do, with bottles of water in hand to help them cool down. Your small group makes quick work of the left over trash, as Jin takes care of what’s left in the lake.

The sun was just beginning it’s descent, stars just barely dotting across the darkening sky, when your small rag tag group finally finished; spent bodies leaning on each other, as weary eyes surveyed your hard work. It wasn’t what it once was, but it looked damn well on its way there and you couldn’t help the happy tears that brimmed your waterline. The arm around your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze, Jin's voice filling the air thanking everyone for their hard work.

The evening chill that cools your sweat soaked layers has the small group shivering. Giving the place one last sweep, you all agree to high tail it back for much needed showers and rest.

Tomorrow would be your last full day there and you wanted to make sure of one last thing. You would be trying to find a way to purify the lake water. You had been doing research and had read about techniques aiming to bring a lake back to or closer to man-made undisturbed conditions. You had found a lake restoration company not far outside of the town. Jin had already agreed to accompany you, willing to help in any way possible as you brought it up before going to bed that night. You had happily accepted, beholden by the revival of the Fae Kingdom.

The night was comfortably warm, filled with happy chatter in the beautiful glade. Fairy lights lit the area in a soft glow as many visitors sat around the lake, eating meals they had just pulled off grills or brought with them from home. Small clusters of families or couples relaxed after a day of fun and thrills.

Somewhere someone had brought a speaker, a soft pop melody permeating the air, as you quietly sing along to it, swaying in your fiance’s arms, his own angelic voice serenading you. Your family surrounded you, their loud boisterous laughs bringing you joy and comfort.

It had been a year since your visit, a year of the lake restoration working its magic. A year of love and care for the watering hole, which was almost a mirror of its former glory. Beautiful shades of green once more filling in patches of the ground, all the colors of the rainbow blooming, giving the space vibrance and life. There were signs of life all around you as creatures began to inhabit the area once more.

But the most amazing part is being able to witness the breathtaking globes of light that dance before your eyes. Soft, blinking lights that waltz around, unbothered by the visitors. The fairies had returned, they had come back home to their kingdom.

“They’re happy.”

“Huh,” you ask dumbly, breaking out of your reverie.

“The fairies, they’re happy to see you,” he voices.

A tender smile rests on his lips when you turn to him. He remembered. The childish story you had told him. And it’s in that moment, with blinking lights reflecting around him that you come to a realization.

“You’re the fairy prince. Well, you’re my real fairy prince,” you admit quietly.

He looks down at you, eyes searching yours before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling your back flush against him.

“I guess that makes you the future princess of the Fae Kingdom.”

You cling to his arms happily, taking in the gorgeous scenery before you.

“Besides, it only makes sense that someone as good looking as me is royalty.”

“And there goes the moment,” you grumble as you leave the safe space of his arms to join your family in their merriment.

“Hey! You know it’s true!” he exclaims, chasing after you, accompanied by a squeaking laugh.

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