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scudslut · 3 months

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ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3

Heartsease

Daryl x f!reader

Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish

Daryl was never one to keep still.

It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.

You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.

The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.

He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.

Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.

And you saw all of that.

You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.

Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.

That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.

To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.

Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.

His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.

He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.

You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.

It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.

You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.

You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."

Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.

Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.

"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.

"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"

You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.

"No, I just- I wanna try something."

He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.

You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.

He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.

He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.

"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.

"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.

You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.

He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.

Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.

When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.

Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.

"Dar." You press.

You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.

"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"

A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.

"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-

He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.

Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.

He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.

You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #twd drabbles #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #fem!reader #sub!daryl #subdom #dom fem reader #smut

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Genuinely so obsessed with the ask you answered about reader being associated with König’s childhood bullies and coming back years later to try and make amends……. I need the angst, the drama, the nasty disgusting degrading sex, the absolute turmoil on both of their parts 😭 I am starving for this, the way you portray König especially there is exactly how I’ve always envisioned him in my mind!!!!!! And then with reader desperately trying to make him happy now out of guilt and her crush that’s grown 10x since she saw him in school, delusionally hoping and believing there’s a *relationship* between them and she can fix what she thinks she allowed to happen back then 10 years after the fact, while König is constantly fighting himself to not fall for reader despite his own buried crush resurfacing, and convincing himself he’s only using her to release stress and tension after assignment while simultaneously holding so much resentment for her and her sheer proximity to the people that tormented him back then, I am foaming at the mouth for the toxic dynamics to be found there !!!!!!!!! The old him begging to fulfill some childish need to have her, while this new monstrous version of himself only wants to watch her suffer to repent for how he had to suffer !!!!!!!!!!!!

I know right?! I’m obsessed with this too!

I’m so here for the toxic relationship dynamic (sue me), also me and @bucca2/@wordstome had a whole conversation about this yesterday because König would bend over backwards to self sabotage this shit.

(The following is mainly a summary from our brainstorm session from last night + I have bucca to thank for the precious meme at the end, it’s König in a nutshell with his high school crush lol)

First of all our girl is sooo in love. She was in love when they were young, but now? She’s a goner, König is out of this world. He's so handsome, so confident, the epitome of cool if there ever was one... and God, would you look at those muscles?

Now she can finally drool all over him but back then, what was she to do? As the shy one of the clique, she always tried to avoid attention; she could never have endured what König did. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she really was just scared. She could only dream about him from afar, and in her dreams, they would both change schools due to their parents moving or something... Ending up in the same area, finally getting to be together like it was a miracle, Deus ex Machina.

Her silly dreams never came true, but it looks like they're coming to fruition now. And this time, she's going to make everything better! Now that they're both grown up and free from their tormentors she can finally admit that she has feelings for him, feelings that are only sparked fast aflame when she sees the man he has become.

And König can’t stand it.

Where was she when he was odd and scrawny? Where was she when he cried himself to sleep over her?? Of course she wants him now that he’s big, independent and menacing, an odd nerd who discovered guns and gym... He thought she was better than this.

Deep inside, he’s still like this:

...but we just need to forget about it because König is NOT going to fold for this girl.

He’s not.

And the sex is so NASTY. Bordering on degrading, König wants to be a gentleman when it comes to ladies, but this one? This one he wants to fuck like he paid for her. She brings out the beast in him, and he finds himself asking her to get on her knees and blow his cock on some filthy cruise... Fucks her like he doesn’t love her, and she’s absolutely lovestruck, when did König become so mean? (God, that she loves him)

Trying not to fall in love with her (as if he ever fell out), König is so incredibly mad at this girl – is this what she wanted this whole time? A buff jerk who fucks her doggystyle until her knees bleed, who gives her the bare minimum, who barely even calls her when he’s away? (He has to physically restrain himself from doing that because of course he’d like to hear her pick up the phone with pure hope in her voice)

While changing his tactics and devising a plot to make her pay, König doesn’t even understand that he’s falling fast for her again while becoming now (seemingly) the best version of himself. It's only to dump her later, of course. He's just being nice so that she'll cry over losing him later. He brings her flowers, eats her out for hours, getting sick satisfaction from the way she cries about how it’s the best sex she’s ever had. He’s going to bring her to her knees, in more ways than just one... She’s going to remember him for the rest of his life when he rearranges her guts, ruining her for any other man.

König is becoming the thing he hates the most while she’s learned her lesson, now wearing her heart on her sleeve. No more shame and secrets, she’s not afraid to tell him how she feels! How she always had a small crush on him… And not even that small… How she loved to hear his presentations, no matter what silly subject they were about because he had actually done his research. How she could’ve swooned when his voice changed. After a short breaking period, he started to talk lower than anyone else in the class, earning himself more of that bullying because he sounded so manly at such a young age.

König is about to burst a blood vessel when hearing all this: she had a crush on him back then? What the actual fuck??

And then come the cuddles, the slow mornings, the coffee and toast, the showering together… She leaves her toothbrush in his place, and it stares at him accusingly from the side of the sink. She wears his t-shirts and looks absolutely gorgeous, mouth-watering and sweet in them. His sexy little minx, the one who didn’t get away…

Wait, what? No. No. No!

And when his high school sweetheart confesses her love for him for the first time, she's so open and vulnerable and sweet about it. Like she has been from the start, his sweet, sweet girl, exactly the kind of woman he always wanted to bring home to see his mom. König is about to lose his mind when she tugs at his shirt, almost cries when she says how much she loves him and couldn’t bear to live without him… She would cry herself to the grave if anything ever happened to him…

(König is like:)

#könig angst #könig fluff #mmm this is so nasty and delicious #they're practically soulmates #collaborating with other writers #könig x highschool sweetheart

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vixstarria · 5 months

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The morning after

I felt like doing a little follow-up to the love confession fic and writing a bit of silly camp banter.

The party join forces in poking fun at Astarion.

All origin characters, Tav, humour, banter, comfort, non-explicit, no spoilers

Approximately 700 words

You left Astarion’s tent. He stayed behind to fix his hair – his bedhead was truly a sight to behold, but it was a sight reserved for your eyes only.

You were almost surprised to see that the world just went on as normal. The magic of the night began to dissipate as you had to turn your attention to the mundane. If only you could stop time... Encapsulate the memory and all the feelings that came with it, and keep returning to it, over and over.

“There she is!!” came a cheerful shout from Karlach, as you approached the group, already busy around the campfire before you broke for the day. You sat down next to her, on the edge of a log, as she pressed a bowl of some kind of porridge concocted by Gale into your hands.

“Hells, did Astarion keep you up all night? You look like shit.” She took a closer look at you. “Smug, happy shit,” she continued. “What were you up to in there? Wait, NO, don’t answer that!”

“Don’t be so envious, darling,” drawled Astarion as he emerged, sitting down to her other side, fiddling with a damaged piece of equipment he’d neglected to repair the day before.

“Envious?! Please, what would I even do with you, I’d break you in half.”

Karlach grabbed and held Astarion in a bear hug, just about pulling him into her lap.

“But you - you’re always hanging around Mama K, like a cat looking for the warmest spot.”

Anyone else would have lost an arm for such familiarity, but Karlach seemed to have special permission. You weren’t sure whether it was because Astarion sympathised with her not having been able to touch anyone for years, or if it really was as simple as him enjoying the heat radiating from her. You suspected it was both. He’d never admit it, so you’ve never asked.

“Release me at once, you foul beast!”

“Say the magic word, fangs!”

Astarion looked at you and mouthed “Help”.

“You’ll be fine, love, she’ll get bored and let go eventually,” you ruffled his hair and returned to your porridge. The word “love” tasted different on your tongue to all the other times you’d thrown it around casually, and you smiled to yourself, as though at a private joke no one else was in on.

“You know, Astarion really is a cat. Always striving to be the centre of attention, then being offended when he actually gets it,” pondered Wyll.

“I’ve seen him get the zoomies in the middle of the night after returning from a hunt,” added Shadowheart.

“Licking blood off his hands after a fight is definitely a feline gesture.” Even Lae’zel was taking part in antagonising him today.

“He’s knocked over my drink for no reason passing by before,” offered Wyll.

“He bites,” added Lae’zel.

“And he does play with his prey before killing it,” mused Shadowheart. “And before I get stabbed – I'm not talking about you, Tav.”

“And he’s just SO. DAMN. CUTE. Look at his pointy ears! Aaaahhhh!” squealed Karlach.

Astarion continued to struggle in Karlach’s grip, kicking at the air, somehow winding up basically lying in her lap, sideways, as the group giggled amongst themselves.

“Well I’ve had cats and even a tressym my whole life, and speaking from the height of my lifelong experience, the real defining question is this,” said Gale, sitting down with his own bowl. “When he’s hungry in the morning, does he wake you by tapping on your nose, and then turn around and show you his butthole?”

“Ugh.”

“Gale!”

“What the actual fuck, Gale?”

“AHAHAHA!”

"Still as suicidal as ever, I see,” you commented, your shoulders shaking, as Astarion finally managed to slide out of Karlach’s hold, collapsing onto the ground, as she roared.

“You better watch what comes out of your mouth, magician, you’re already on thin ice,” said Astarion. The threat lost its edge due to Astarion’s disheveled look and the fact that he too couldn't keep his face straight. “Now if you’ll excuse me...” He got up and walked away, dusting himself off.

“The dignity, the grace, the sense of balance...” continued Wyll.

~~~~~

Next in series - Intimacy

Series master list

AO3

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion acunin #karlach #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel #astarion is a cat

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 9 months

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Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part. Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's a good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway. Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8.

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him. But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin. He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's Outer Banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #18+ read #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x female reader #dirtytomatoedwrites

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elryuse · 3 days

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WANT YOU BACK

WINTER X MALE READER

Tags : Possessive EX GF Winter, Pregnancy, Cheating, Teasing, Creampie, Quickie

Winter choked back a sob, the smoky jazz club blurring into a canvas of swirling lights and pounding bass. Across the crowded dance floor, Y/n's laughter echoed, a sound that once brought sunshine into her days and now felt like a cruel taunt. He was happy. Genuinely, radiantly happy with his new girlfriend, Karina – a vision of effortless beauty draped on his arm.

Regret gnawed at Winter's insides, a ravenous beast that had been growing stronger with every passing day. A year ago, Y/n had been her world. The kindest, most patient boyfriend a girl could ask for. But Winter, fueled by a twisted yearning for excitement and the allure of a "bad boy" fantasy, had thrown it all away. Now, the sight of his happiness with someone else ignited a firestorm of jealousy and a terrifying realization: what if she'd lost him forever?

Panic clawed at her. She couldn't lose Y/n. Not entirely. A twisted plan, fueled by possessiveness and a warped sense of entitlement, began to take shape in her mind. She would get him back, even if it meant manipulation and control.

Excusing herself from her date, Winter weaved through the throng of dancing bodies, her eyes fixated on Y/n. As she approached, she noticed a flicker of surprise followed by a cautious warmth in his eyes.

"Winter??" he greeted, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension. Karina, sensing the tension, shot her a withering look.

"C-can I talk for a minute… alone?" Winter purred, her voice dripping with forced vulnerability.

Y/n hesitated, his gaze flitting between Winter and Karina. Karina rolled her eyes and reluctantly excused herself. Winter led Y/n to a secluded corner, excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

"I-i shouldn't have done what I did Y/n, " she began, her voice trembling slightly. A performance worthy of an Oscar. "You were the best thing that ever happened to my life, A-and I threw it all away."

Y/n, ever the believer in second chances, looked at her with a mixture of empathy and residual hurt. "W-winter," he started, his voice gentle. "Karina and I—"

"I know," she cut him off, tears welling up in her eyes. "But maybe… just maybe.." she trailed off, letting the unspoken suggestion hang heavy in the air.

Y/n sighed, torn between his loyalty to Karina and his lingering emotions for Winter. "Winter, we can't just—"

Winter leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper. "Just one night, Y/n. Let me show you what I've been missing. What you've been missing."

Her words, laced with a desperate yearning, struck a chord in Y/n. Memories flooded back - stolen kisses, whispered secrets, the warmth of her hand in his. He couldn't deny the lingering feelings, the pull of a familiarity that resonated deep within him.

In the dimly lit corner, away from the prying eyes of the club, they fell into each other's arms. The kiss ignited a spark within them, a wildfire fueled by pent-up emotions and unspoken desires. It was a desperate kiss, raw and hungry, like two drowning souls clinging to a lifeline. "I knew you wanted it..". Winter whispers, Her voice desperate of affection.

Winter's touch was a stark contrast to the carefree affection Karina so readily bestowed upon Y/n. Her fingers dug into his back, a possessive hold that sent shivers down his spine. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as their lips met in a frenzied dance. "Fuck Me Y/n.. Fuck me..". Winter begged, as she began to undress.

"W-winter s-slow down". The air crackled with electricity. Winter's eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, flickered with a possessiveness that made Y/n's breath hitch. There was a hunger in her gaze, a desperate need for control that sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't the sweet affection they once shared; it was a darkness that both terrified and enticed him. "Cum... Cum inside me... Stay with me like this.. Please..". Winter begged, as finally Y/n released strings of his cum deep inside her womb.

As they stumbled back, breathless and flushed, a sense of foreboding settled over Y/n. There was a possessiveness in Winter's behavior that hadn't been there before. He knew this stolen night was no reconciliation, but a twisted game he was being drawn into against his better judgment.

Winter's eyes gleamed with a predatory glint. "This feels like coming home," she whispered, her voice husky with desire before she kissed him once again.

But in the pit of Y/n's stomach, a chilling premonition bloomed. He wasn't sure he was coming home, but rather entering a dark labyrinth, lured back by a love that had turned possessive and manipulative.

Winter cradled the positive pregnancy test in her hand, her emotions a tangled mess. Relief warred with a horrifying sense of manipulation. This wasn't the happy reunion she'd envisioned. This was a twisted trap sprung on Y/n.

The stolen night in the club had been fuelled by desperation, not love. It had served its purpose, though. Winter had him back, tethered to her by an invisible chain: the baby growing within her.

The next morning, she played the heartbroken victim. Tears streamed down her face as she confessed to Y/n about the test. "We can't pretend this didn't happen," she cried, knowing full well he wouldn't abandon a child.

Y/n, ever the good guy, fell into the trap. He felt responsible, obligated. But every visit to Winter's apartment felt like a descent into a suffocating prison. Her possessiveness escalated with each passing day.

"You can't see Karina anymore," Winter declared one evening, her voice laced with a chilling finality. Y/n protested, reminding her of Karina's innocence in all this. "This is between us, Y/n," Winter hissed, a manic glint in her eyes. "You're mine now."

He tried to explain the situation to Karina, but guilt choked his words. In the end, the confused silence and strained distance became too much for her to bear. She broke up with him, heartbroken and bewildered.

Winter celebrated this "victory" with a chilling smile. Y/n was now truly hers, isolated and trapped. She used the pregnancy as a weapon, a constant reminder of his supposed transgression. "Every scan, every milestone," she'd say, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, "a reminder of what we had."

Yet, with each passing week, the facade of happiness wore thin. Winter felt a growing resentment towards the child, a constant reminder of her deceit. But most of all, she resented Y/n. His forced presence, his hollow attempts at conversation, only amplified the emptiness within her.

One night, as Y/n sat awkwardly on the couch, Winter launched into a tirade. "You don't love me! You never did!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Y-you just feel sorry for me!"

Y/n, worn down by the constant emotional abuse, snapped. "I do care about you, Winter," he said, his voice tired. "But I can't love someone who holds me hostage with threats and guilt."

His words hung in the air, heavy and final. Winter recoiled, a flicker of fear replacing the anger in her eyes. She might have trapped him physically, but emotionally, she'd pushed him to the edge.

The flicker of fear in Winter's eyes was fleeting, replaced by a cold glint that sent shivers down Y/n's spine. He'd seen that look before, in the dimly lit corner of the club – the predator assessing its prey.

"Hostage?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with a terrifying calmness. "I gave you a chance, Y/n. A chance to be a family. Maybe you don't love me, but you'll learn."

Her next words were a chilling whisper. "Besides, where would you go? Do you really think Karina would take you back after this?"

Y/n's stomach churned. She was right. Shame choked him, muting any further protest. Winter sensed his resignation and a victorious smile curled her lips. This was where the game truly began.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby preparations, and a suffocating sense of control. Winter micromanaged everything, making Y/n feel like a visitor in his own life. His attempts at connecting with the child felt staged, a constant performance under Winter's watchful eye.

Yet, a strange sense of normalcy settled in. Winter stopped mentioning Karina entirely, reveling in the fact that Y/n was trapped. Slowly, she started subtly chipping away at his support system. A "forgotten" work call from Y/n that turned into a week-long business trip. A "sudden illness" that kept his friends from visiting.

Y/n, worn down by the constant emotional manipulation and guilt trips, barely noticed the isolation. He became a ghost in his own life, existing only to fulfill his "duties" as a father and a reluctant partner.

Years passed. Winter birthed two more children, each arrival a twisted celebration of her victory. Y/n remained a shell of his former self, a ghost trapped in a gilded cage of her own making. Winter, however, thrived. Her possessiveness had morphed into a twisted sense of ownership. Y/n belonged to her now, a trophy on her emotional shelf.

One cold evening, as the older children played in the living room, Winter snuggled close to Y/n on the couch. "See?" she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "We have a family now. Just like what you always wanted."

Y/n's eyes, devoid of their former warmth, met hers. There was no love in them, no regret, no longing. The years of manipulation had hollowed him out. He was simply a shadow, a reminder of the love she'd destroyed and the life they could have had.

A cold smile settled on Winter's face. In her twisted mind, this was their happy ending. Her ultimate victory. She had Y/n, and that was all that mattered. The love she'd craved, the genuine connection, was a forgotten casualty in her war for control. Winter had built her prison, bricked with manipulation and guilt, and in the process, had become as trapped as the man she held captive.

#aespa winter #winter #kim minjeong #minjeong x reader #aespa minjeong #possessive #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #sexy content #yandere #update #kpop smut #aespa smut #winter smut #apreciation post

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heavenlydevine · 6 months

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𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 || 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍��𝐎.

╰┈➤ ❝You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching.❞

PART TWO HERE!

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈!

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who is the epitome of patience, despite the aching tension in his muscles, remains characteristically calm in the current state of things, fingers drumming patiently against his thigh in hopes that by some miracle, you'd stop with your naïve little delusions.

It is unbecoming of him to indulge within the familiar presence envy brings along, and though he had once believed himself incapable of feeling an emotion as diabolical as jealousy, watching you flaunt and parade about in that flimsy little dress awakens something primal within him.

He cannot blame the lustrous gazes that are pinned against your swaying body, and though it fills him with pride to know that you were his and his alone, the beast within him did not subside into the darkened depths he had buried it within.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who is quick to appear by your side with an expression you cannot quite place, surprise evident in the way you peer up at him—this reaction is expected, as you were not aware of his presence, believing him to be on a mission somewhere on the outskirts of Japan, dealing with a high level curse. "Darling," you beam at him with so much love it almost blinds him, arms wrapping around his waist, smushing your face into his chest with a gleeful cry, "—I have missed you so much. You should have told me you were coming home."

A fucking pout forms on your face and his resolve shatters, glancing at the insignificant pest that lingers behind you, "I did, had you bothered to read the countless messages I have sent you."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who watches in barely restrained amusement as you sputter and reach for your purse, fingers searching mindlessly through the cluttered mess before finally finding your phone, face twisting into something that sends the beast within him roaring, "Oh."

You smile innocently at him, waving a hand at the no-name bastard sitting behind you, "Nanami, this Takada Yamada, a friend of mine from college. Takada," Nanami grunts down the growl rumbling from his chest as you turn to face the now known Takada, "—this is my fiancé, Nanami Kento."

A firm handshake later and Takada takes his leave with a mumbled goodbye and a pained expression crossing his face, stumbling into a few people here and there in his haste to escape the wrath that radiated within Nanami.

"That wasn't very nice, Nami."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who grunts in response, glancing around the dimly lit establishment before returning his gaze towards you, "It would appear that I have ruined your night, love. I will let you indulge in one more and then it is time to go home."

You are not happy with the sudden turn of events, opting to click your tongue against your teeth, twirling around before strutting towards the bar. He has the right mind to drag you back, yet he knows you need to loosen up—especially for what he has planned for you.

You, who had entered his life without much regard of your own, worming yourself deeper and deeper into his life with a mission in mind. Kind and loving, accepting and strong willed, Nanami Kento couldn't help but curse the stubbornness that came along with it, michievous and cunning when you did not get what you wanted.

He considered himself a patient man, a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and though he did not believe himself to be cruel, perhaps putting you in your place was a punishment well worth on it's way.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who offers no warning as a firm hand wraps around the back of your neck, cock hardening as a surprised moan slips past your lips, pulling you back with a grunt of displeasure, head lowering as he whispers, "You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching. I said it's time to go home," hotly in your ear.

Releasing his hold unto you, Nanami shifts as he slams a few crumbled bills on the counter, keeping a firm hold on your upperarm, "I bet you think you're real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We'll see how cute you look later when I get you home." It isn't that your little friend, nor those who had ventured to close to you for his liking, had touched you without any ulterior motives on their mind, rather than it appeared friendly in nature, had jealousy rearing its ugly head, for it was an instinctive sensation that urged him to throw caution to the wind and fuck you senseless.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who is silent as he ushers you towards the rental, a sleek black Mercedes C63 AMG with nothing but a reassuring, yet firm hand, "I don't want to fucking hear it." He has no intention of hearing your feeble apologies, having defied him already once tonight. His patience is running thin, yet a gentleman he remains as he opens the passenger side of the car, forgoing to strap you in.

His thick member strains against his trousers, hands raising and fingers fumbling, loosening his necktie in hopes to appease the burning inferno roaring within him, grunting as he eases into the driver's seat, all too aware of your wide eyes watching his every move.

He turns towards you, making quick work of the buckle of his belt, "Safe word, now!" He respects your dignity too much, he loves you too much, yet even now he knows that you are aware not to push him beyond his breaking point, eyes blown wide with barely restrained lust.

"Yellow."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who gives you no warning, barely able to start the car before grabbing a fist full of your hair, semi-hard cock freed from its confinement, "Put that fucking mouth to better use," and then he shoves you down on his length without remorse, moaning as you instantly hollow your cheeks, breathing through your nose as you set the pace, your own moans of pleasure drowning into the sweet pur of the car's engine.

He hardens further into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust of his hips, euphoria coursing through his veins, "Fucking little whore," he is well aware of what his voice does to you, revelling in the way your body trembles in wanton desire, "—gonna fucking tie you up and fuck you raw. Fill you up until all you can taste and feel is me."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 who threads his fingers through your hear, fucking into your mouth with a growl, urging himself not to glance down and watch you swallow him whole, "Fuck," pedal to the medal and the powerful V8 turbo kicks in, sending his cock further down your mouth, throat constricting in a way that sends him absolutely fucking insane, "—is there anything you can’t do with that tongue of yours?"

You mumble something incoherent, yet as the complex in which you both live looms ever closer, Nanami pulls your delicious mouth off his throbbing member and turns you to face him, "I'm not done with you yet."

God have mercy on your soul.

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎?! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄.

#nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento jjk #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 3 months

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with the release of a certain bird adeptus approaching i cannot stop thinking about Foul Legacy befriending an adeptus

you're one of the younger adepti, a solitary, curious bird hidden away in some distant mountain that rarely ever receives visitors, even from the most determined of humans- most mortals are unaware of your existence entirely, but you don't particularly mind. you've never been one to demand worship and total respect, even if living alone on your little mountain can get very quiet from time to time. Cloud Retainer- or Xianyun as she's going by nowadays- and her two daughters occasionally visit, but that's all the traffic your home ever receives. it's fine- you're content tending to your garden and practicing your magic and making little packets of herbs for Xianyun to distribute amongst your fellow adepti.

you're fine. you're not lonely at all.

the other adepti have told you bits and rumors about the ground splitting open, leaking dark, stellar energy from its roots, but you don't quite believe them until you get to witness it for yourself, wings flapping open in surprise when there's a crack and a rumble and suddenly a beast twice your height emerges from the earth- your plants are utterly ruined, and you let out a cry of despair. the monster shakes its head to dislodge the dust and dirt, before turning its one-eyed gaze towards you- but it doesn't attack or even act threatening in the slightest, merely approaching slowly and sniffing the air around you. it suddenly notices the plants and the distressed look in your eyes, and the beast sits back on its haunches, letting out a low, apologetic whine. you're not a vengeful adeptus, though, and silently allow the creature to stay as you tidy up the garden.

his name, as you learn, is Foul Legacy.

in a way you're both oddities, him with his Abyssal traits and you with your incomplete human disguise, feathers standing out on your cheeks and a tiny pair of wings still on your back- it's one of the main reasons you don't venture into the city, along with your hatred of large crowds. one day of company turns to two, then to three, then a week and a month until Foul Legacy is essentially living with you, following you around and helping you with your daily chores. needless to say Xianyun is... not happy when she finds out, but she begrudgingly allows it, saying something along the lines of "one's third child needs to make more friends anyways". and when the eventual time comes that Foul Legacy does depart, he leaves you with a lick on your cheek and a purr, his way of promising to see you again.

so it's by no coincidence when you finally perfect your shapeshifting skills and step foot into the Harbor for the first time, that you meet a man with ginger hair and a playful grin that you've never seen before, but looks so familiar all the same

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heyiwrotesomethings · 7 months

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Okay, I think my request is weird? I don't know haha. It's my first time doing this😔

The other day I imagined a reader being a demon who saved a little girl from her own abusive family and the reader tries to find a home for the little girl, but she couldn't, so she ends up adopting her.

But, after some time, Shinobu Kocho finds the demon and, of course, tries to kill attack the reader, but the reader doesn't attack back. Anyway, when she was going to kill the demon, the little girl stopped her. Shinobu didn't understand what was going on.

Anyway, when Shinobu understands what kind of relationship the demon has with the kid, she decides to protect them (with the excuse of protecting the kid, actually, because she didn't trust the demon at all) and eventually falls in love with the demon.

Sorry, first time doing this haha! I love your writing!

A Home

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Demon Reader

A/N: Not a weird request, it was cute! Sorry for the lack of updates y’all, idk what’s wrong with me. I just don’t have the energy. Here’s one thing at least. Sorry if it seems too jumpy/fast between breaks, it was getting longer than what I’d prefer to do these days. Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading, and thank you all for being patient with me! Word Count: ~4,750

“That’s right, Sachiko, go on.” (Y/n) ushered the young child towards the lantern lit house. “Go knock on the door.”

The little girl took a few cautious steps further along the path to the house before looking back at (Y/n), unsure.

“You can do it, they’re nice people. You’ll be happy here.” She continued to coach her from the bushes.

This pattern continued a couple more times until the little girl made it to the front door.

“Good job, sweetheart! Now just knock on the door like we practiced…”

Sachiko looked at (Y/n) over her shoulder, her eyes were big and her bottom lip wobbled.

“Go on…” (Y/n) nodded, smiling reassuringly.

Finally Sachiko knocked timidly on the door, patchy blanket clutched against her little body, and (Y/n) released a sigh of relief when her sharp ears picked up on a stirring within the house.

“Onee-san?” Sachiko’s voice quivered stepping away from the door when she saw (Y/n) slinking back into the woods.

“It’s time to part ways, you’ll be happy and well taken care of here.” (Y/n) could hear a familiar hitch in Sachiko’s breathing, hear her little girl’s heart speed up fearfully, and that could only mean one thing… “No, nonono, no tears sweetheart, please? Not again.”

But it was too late, Sachiko started sobbing. (Y/n) tried her best to comfort her from afar while also attempting to direct her back to the house.

“What’s going on out here?” A concerned man slid the door open fast, making a loud clacking noise that only made Sachiko cry louder, running away from the man and in the direction of the woods, the direction of (Y/n).

“Who is it dear?” The man’s wife joined him at the door, lantern in hand. She aimed the lantern’s light into the woods and caught sight of the little girl running right into the arms of what appeared to her to be a monster. A humanoid beast with curved horns and sharp teeth, reflective, piercing eyes.

The woman shrieked, flinging the lantern away and grabbing her husband by the collar, practically dragging him back into the house, slamming the door shut. (Y/n) could hear the sound of heavy furniture dragging across the floor inside and she sighed deeply.

“Alright, alright… come here.” She picked up the sobbing girl, tears and snot immediately staining her neck and shoulder, little fingers clutching her for dear life.

“You were gonna try and leave me again!” Sachiko wailed as (Y/n) carried her through the forest.

“It’s for your own good, Sachiko. I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”

“No!”

(Y/n) sighed again. This had been her seventh attempt at re-homing Sachiko since she rescued the little girl from her abusive home. It was no easy task vetting out potential families looking as fearsome as she did. One would think the little girl would leap at the chance of a normal, loving family, but no, she always came running back to the demon each time.

“It’s not safe for you to be with me, Sachiko. Don’t you want the certainty of a roof over your head, food, medicine… to be able to play with other kids on a sunny day?” (Y/n) beseeched the girl each time to see reason, but each time, Sachiko refused.

“I like sleeping outside with you. You gave me a name and you give me lots of food and hugs and you scare all the bad things away. You’re all I need, Onee-san.”

(Y/n)’s heart clenched an the sweet sentiment, but this was no environment for a child to grow up in. She’d have to search for another viable family and try again, but for now, she would need to find a yet another suitable place for Sachiko to sleep and for her to avoid the morning sun.

“Besides, medicine is icky!” Sachiko grumbled.

An exhausted chuckle left (Y/n)’s lips and they carried on, eventually finding a cave. (Y/n) scoped it out for any dangerous creatures before bringing Sachiko inside. She then used the remaining darkness to gather a bunch of leaves, sticks and even a few fish from the stream.

She made a little bed from the leaves topped with the raggedy blanket she had snatched for Sachiko a couple months ago. It had been brand new at the time, but between the weather and the traveling, it had seen better days. Sachiko adamantly refused (Y/n)’s attempts to get her a new one, however.

(Y/n) then made a little fire, cooking the fish over the flames. After awhile, she carefully inspected one, gently fanning it to cool it off before handing it off to Sachiko.

“Careful, it’s still a little hot.”

“Yummy, fish again!”

(Y/n) felt a bolt of shame strike through her body despite Sachiko’s genuine excitement.

“We’ll be in the city in a couple of days and I’ll get you all kinds of good food, alright?”

“Onee-san is gonna steal again.” Sachiko more so stating a fact than asking a question. She took another bite of the crispy fish.

“N-no! Stealing is bad! What I’m doing is just… really long-term borrowing! Yeah!”

“Oh, okay.” Sachiko said, not at all bothered.

(Y/n) felt awful for lying, but she was trying her best to instill good values in the poor girl whilst also keeping her alive. It wasn’t like she had money, and she certainly wasn’t going to be getting any job offers looking the way that she did. Stealing was the only viable option.

When Sachiko finished her fish, she curled up on her leafy bed and (Y/n) tucked her within the raggedy blanket. The demon recited a little bedtime story that she had made up. It was one of Sachiko’s favorites. Before she could finish, the little girl fell asleep and (Y/n) spent most of the day that followed watching over her, making sure she didn’t seem too cold or uncomfortable.

***

“Yes… Yes! everything I need is right here.” The demon whispered to herself over her bag of stolen goods. They had been caught in an unexpected rain a few nights ago and Sachiko had gotten sick. (Y/n) had fretted over whether or not she could leave the little girl alone or not, but the fever Sachiko had was growing more concerning by the hour, so the demon finally decided to slip out of the cave one night as the little girl slept fitfully. She covered the cave’s entrance and left for the nearest village as fast as she could and broke into a general store.

She filled a bag to the brim with medicines, foods and drinks and slunk back out of the dark store’s open window and ran off into the night as quick as her feet could carry her.

“Almost there, hang on just a little longer.”

She ran, unaware of her pursuer sailing through the trees above until—

A foot was planted squarely between her shoulder blades, the force causing her to tumble to the ground, her bag of stolen goods scattered across the forest floor in front of her. She tried to scrambled to her knees to start shoveling everything back into the canvas bag, but the foot between her shoulders doubled down its force and another foot planted itself squarely on her lower back.

“I thought I sensed a demon in the area.” A pleasant sounding voice stated from above. “But what is all this here now?”

Shinobu’s eyes scanned the array of items splayed over the ground and felt an extra tick of annoyance rise within her. If she wasn’t already putting all of her body weight on the demon, she’d add a bit more pressure.

“Food, water, medicine… what could a demon possibly need such things for? You creatures always manage to find new ways to surprise me. It’s not enough to slaughter humans, must you also feel the need to waste perfectly good food and medication?”

(Y/n) tilted her head to the side, breath hitching when when she saw the point of a blade resting dangerously close to her eye. Above her, backlit by the moon, she saw a woman wearing a seemingly neutral smile, though (Y/n) could sense the terrifying aura she gave off. Then she caught sight of the gold buttons, the durable dark clothing she wore, white collar and welt pocket. She imagined if she could check, she would also see that the kanji for ‘extermination’ would be written upon the back of the woman’s uniform. (Y/n) had done well to avoid demon slayers until now and as her luck would have it, she had been found by a Hashira of all people.

“No, wait,” (Y/n) pleaded. “There is somewhere I have to be. There is a little girl who desperately needs that medicine. If you would let me show you—”

“Oh, one of those demons, are you?” Shinobu interrupted. “I always find the demons who toy with peoples’ lives for longer than necessary to be the most detestable. But I’m feeling surprisingly generous tonight, so if you tell me where this little girl is, I’ll use one of my more ‘gentle’ poisons on you.”

“She’s in a cave not too far from here, maybe half a kilometer at most, eastward, by the stream. I covered the entrance with woven sticks and leaves.” (Y/n) shared, voice shaking, “Please just… just make sure she’s well taken care of.” She closed her eyes tight. Was this really it? It was all happening so fast.

“Thank you for being so forthcoming, how admirable.” Shinobu praised, thought it did not feel sincere to (Y/n) in the slightest. “Now, to ensure you aren’t lying, I’ll be poisoning you within an inch of your life. If I do find this girl you speak of, then I shall make my swift return to finish you off, alright?”

(Y/n) took in a shaky breath, shutting her eyes tightly as she waited for the strike. She prayed Sachiko would not see whatever may be left of her after this…

With a fanciful flourish of her sword, Shinobu took aim at the back of the demon’s neck and—

“Onee-san!”

A shrill voice wailed, freezing Shinobu’s very blood in her veins, causing her to hesitate. The hesitation giving Sachiko enough time to half run, half stumble over to the scene and cover the back of (Y/n)’s head and neck with her whole body.

Defiant, teary eyes glared up at Shinobu as if she were the root of all evil.

“Stop bullying my Onee-san!” Sachiko punched Shinobu in the knee with enough force to make Shinobu at least wince and take one foot off of (Y/n)’s back. “You mean old ugly hag!”

Shinobu blinked, her neutral smile twitched ever so slightly.

“Sachiko!” (Y/n) gasped, forgetting all about her pending execution, “You can’t say things like that!”

“I don’t care!” Sachiko wailed, “She’s—“ Sachiko broke into an awful coughing fit.

“Sachiko!” (Y/n) tried to get up on impulse.

“Don’t move, or you won’t live another second.” Shinobu warned the demon before putting her attention back on the little girl, her other foot finally leaving (Y/n)’s back. “Come here, let me see you.”

“No!” Sachiko refused, still kneeling protectively over (Y/n).

“Listen here, little one. I don’t know what this demon has told you, but you are not safe with her.”

“Uh uh! If I didn’t meet Onee-san, I’d still be getting hits and rumbly tummies and bad sleeps! —Hey!”

Shinobu put the back of her hand on Sachiko’s forehead, more focused on checking the girl over than listening to her rebuttals.

“You’re burning up.” She murmured with concern, the she turned a glare onto (Y/n). “These cheap remedies aren’t going to do her any good. She needs a doctor, fortunately I am more than qualified. Come little one,” Shinobu opened her arms to pick Sachiko up, putting on her best motherly smile, “I’ll take you to my home and make you feel much better.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you! No touch!”

“Just— ah!”

Sachiko bit Shinobu’s hand and the Hashira held her indented palm to her chest, a string of expletives griping the edge of her tongue for dear life.

“Enough! That’s enough foolishness!” Shinobu nearly hissed once she had recovered enough of her mask to not cuss out a child. “Demon, stand. Now.”

(Y/n) found it in her best interest to quickly clamber to her feet, but not so quickly as to earn cause for impalement.

“Obviously the child’s life comes first. I will do everything I can to save her, and if that means working with you, then so be it. Carry her and follow me. Just remember that I’m much faster than you. Try anything, move one toe out of line, and you’re done, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” (Y/n) squeaked. “Come here, sweetheart.” She picked up Sachiko and the girl squirmed in her arms.

“No! We can’t go! Stranger danger, Onee-san! You said never go somewhere with a stranger!”

“Yes, but—“

“Kochou Shinobu.” The Hashira introduced herself. “And I’ve gathered your name is Sachiko, correct? We are strangers no more.”

“Shinobu… bu… boo! Boo!” Sachiko jeered.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) apologized to Shinobu in a strained whisper.

“Just start moving.”

(Y/n) looked back at the toppled bag of goods, “What about—“

“Time is of the essence. Keep up.”

And so the demon ran beside the Hashira, both focusing on the same goal.

***

They were cutting it very close, making it to the Butterfly Estate just before dawn. Sachiko had passed out in (Y/n)’s arms along the way so no fuss was made when (Y/n) was made to hand her over to Shinobu.

(Y/n) was then sequestered to a room in the furthest corner of the the estate by another butterfly girl with a white cloak. Another demon slayer to make sure she didn’t step out of line while Shinobu was tending to Sachiko, (Y/n) would have to guess. Only guess because her attempts to create small talk with the girl were met with silence.

A few hours past before Shinobu decided to come to the room with an update and (Y/n) had to stop herself from running up to her, grabbing her by the arms, and begging for all of the details.

“Her fever broke and she’s stable. She’ll be fine as long as she rests.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) put a hand on her chest, unshed tears shinning in her eyes, “thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. I’m so glad you found us.”

“That would be the first time a demon has ever said that to me.” Shinobu said, seemingly unmoved by (Y/n)’s emotional display.

“Can I see her?”

“Absolutely not.” Shinobu shook her head. “We have a lot to discuss, you and I.”

The combined intense stares of Shinobu and Kanao made (Y/n) shudder involuntarily.

Oh Sachiko, I have found a safe haven, a home, for you, but for me, these are quite dire straits…

***

After hours of intensive questioning, Shinobu was finally interrupted by Aoi knocking on the door. Kanao let her in and the exasperation on the girl’s face was visible to all.

“Our new arrival is awake and currently screaming her lungs out. We’re doing everything we can just short of sedating her, Shinobu-sama, but she won’t calm unless her demands are met.”

“She wants to see the demon, I presume.” Shinobu sighed, giving (Y/n) a sideways glance.

“Yes, but she’s also screaming about a blanket.”

“Oh dear,” (Y/n) pressed her hand to her cheek, “I completely forgot about it in the heat of the moment! It’s still in that cave!”

“Supply her with a new one please, Aoi.” Shinobu asked.

“Believe me, we tried, Shinobu-sama, but she tossed all the options we provided her with aside. She won’t accept a new one.”

“That girl…” Shinobu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I can go retrieve the blanket.” (Y/n) offered. “I think I could find my way back.”

“Do you honestly believe I would go along with that?”

“You could come with me if you think I’ll run off. Trust me, you’ll want that blanket. I have tried to replace it numerous times, but her persistence and lung capacity is stronger than my will.”

Shinobu stood silent for a moment before sighing quietly. “Very well then…“

***

Once night fell again, Shinobu and (Y/n) set off, (Y/n) still had not been allowed to see Sachiko, they could still hear the girl’s wails as they left the estate.

“If you would have just let her see me, I’m sure she would have calmed down a little…”

Shinobu ignored her and forged onward. Her pride was actually a bit bruised from this whole ordeal. Kids loved her. They flocked to her for comfort. The irony of this single child not only despising her, but also desperately wanting the comfort of a demon, was not the least bit lost on her, and she was not at all happy about it. This has to be some kind of demon art, right? But if that was true, then surely the demon would have tried to pull the same tricks with her, even going as far as to sever whatever hold she had over the child to switch for Shinobu if such a power could only work on one person at a time.

Shinobu pondered deeply until they made it to the cave, (Y/n)’s ‘aha!’ of triumph breaking her out of her thoughts.

“I found it, thank goodness. Gods… it could sure use a wash though.”

Shinobu couldn’t help but agree.

“It looks like it’ll fall apart if washed, however.”

“Yeah…” (Y/n) walked over to a nearby stream and placed the ragged blanket in the water. She then began gently massaging little circles with her knuckles, removing the dirt as carefully as she could. “It just needs a gentle wash. Takes some extra time, but it’ll help keep it from getting worse at least. If only I could sew, but these stupid claws get in the way…” she sighed.

Shinobu watched (Y/n) carefully scrub the dirt from the blanket, finding the contrast between her almost ferocious appearance and her gentle hands bizarre. Why would a demon put so much care into preserving a worn, threadbare blanket for a child?

Shinobu exhales softly through her nose and kneels beside the demon, exhaling quietly when she sees her jump.

“Settle down, you’re fine.” Shinobu took an opposite corner of the blanket and copied (Y/n)’s movements. “Aoi should be able to mend it. It’ll be a patch-job, sure, but at least it’ll hold it all together.”

“That would be wonderful… you don’t need to help me with this if you don’t want to. The water is pretty cold.”

“It’s fine, besides, the sooner this is done, the sooner I can go home and the sooner I can give everyone’s poor ears a break.”

“Right…” (Y/n) gave an awkward chuckle, “Sorry about that. She never really was allowed to have any feelings before so I have a hard time trying to discipline her for bad behavior. She was so timid, I didn’t want to scare her when she was just finally starting to have her own voice, you know?”

Oh, Shinobu could relate to that. When Kanao ran off to Final Selection without telling anyone, Shinobu was beside herself. When Kanao came back safe, she wanted to give her a piece of her mind, but she was also so proud that Kanao had made that choice on her own, that she didn’t really know what to say to the girl.

They finished cleaning the blanket and (Y/n) carried the sopping fabric back to the mansion where occasional wails could still be heard.

“I guess you should take it from here…” (Y/n) said once they were reunited with Kanao, who had taken up sporting a couple of pink ear plugs in their absence.

“No,” Shinobu sighed, “You should come in. Giving her the blanket will only take care of half of the problem. She’s been asking about you nonstop.”

“Really, I can see her? Thank you so much—!”

Shinobu grabbed (Y/n) by a horn and lowered her to her level so they were eye to eye.

“But don’t think that I won’t be watching you very carefully, alright?”

“Uh, uh-huh, yes, I completely understand.” (Y/n) nodded awkwardly with her horn still in Shinobu’s grip. After a moment of studious silence, Shinobu let go and allowed (Y/n) to follow her into the room and almost immediately, Sachiko’s wailing stopped… only to be renewed when she realized that both (Y/n) and her special blanket were okay.

She leapt out of the bed despite various protests and jumped into (Y/n)’s arms.

“Onee-san! I thought you were gone forever!” Sachiko blubbered.

“There there…” (Y/n) tried to shush her, “You need to rest, Sachiko.”

“No! What if when I close my eyes, that mean hag takes you away again?”

“Sachiko…” (Y/n) warned, her eyes flickered to Shinobu in an apologetic manner.

“I won’t be taking her away from you again as long as she behaves herself.” Shinobu chimed in. It was time to start trying to burry the hatchet. Yet make no mistake, at the moment she felt even a twinge of danger from the demon, this tentative peace would be over. She crouched down in front of Sachiko and presented her pinky to her. “You have my word.”

“A pinky promise!” Sachiko gasped, almost looking at Shinobu in a new light. “The hag knows about pinky promises!”

Shinobu’s eye twitched subtly, “Yes… so you understand this is a serious promise I am making.”

“Sachiko,” (Y/n) piped up, “In return, I want you to promise Kocho-san that you will be a polite houseguest. That means no name calling and no screaming when you don’t get your way, understand?”

“But…”

“No buts, it’s time to make up. You have to remember that I’m a scary monster so it only makes sense that Kocho-san would act the way she did.”

Shinobu almost wanted to refute that point. She hardly found (Y/n) scary at all. However, she just wanted to focus on sealing this deal and finally, finally get to go to sleep.

“Okay… fine.” Sachiko pouted, looking Shinobu in the eye again before she hooked their pinkies together, sealing their promises.

***

How could a demon be so sweet and gentle? Shinobu wondered to herself for not the first time since Sachiko and by extension, (Y/n), joined the mansion’s residents several months ago.

Shinobu watched from the herb garden as Sachiko ran back to the shaded engawa, her hands full of dandelions. Sachiko deposited one handful into (Y/n)’s lap, the other on the floor in front of her. Shinobu wondered what they would make, crowns, rings, bracelets, all fair game.

She felt her cheeks warm, not from the gentle sun shining down from above, but from seeing (Y/n)’s fanged smile as she oh so slowly and patiently showed Sachiko how to tie the stems into knots for probably hundredth time since the little yellow weeds began popping up earlier that spring.

Oh to hell with it, weeding the garden could wait. Shinobu surely earned a little break, right? Sachiko already took care of most of it anyway with her dandelion picking. It was a wonder that she managed to find any at all since it seemed that she was always picking them as soon as they would pop up.

“Hello, Kocho-san.” (Y/n) aimed that sweet, fanged smile at her and she felt her knees go a little weak. “We aren’t disturbing your gardening, are we?”

“Not at all, and please, (Y/n), I told you to call me Shinobu, remember?”

“Right, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Just relax.” Shinobu teased, bumping (Y/n)’s shoulder with her own as they sat side by side. The simple contact made both of their hearts flutter.

“Look what I made!” Sachiko presented Shinobu with a patch of woven dandelions. “I’m gonna give this to Nezuko. It’s a little pillow.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Sachiko.” Shinobu praised, though it was certainly too small a pillow for even Nezuko to use effectivley.

She was fortunate and thankful that Sachiko had forgiven her for their rough beginnings. It took time to really earn her trust and respect, but once Sachiko started feeling comfortable, it was all water under the bridge. Though there were times when she could still be wary of Shinobu’s intentions with her adoptive demon sister. Which admittedly left Shinobu more than a bit chagrined, especially when she was admittedly trying to put the moves on (Y/n) rather than threaten her existence these days.

Fortunately or unfortunately, neither had seemed to catch on to that fact. She would need to step it up.

“And what are you making, (Y/n)?” Shinobu asked, brushing their shoulders together again.

“Oh, um,” (Y/n) finally looked down at her hands. Truthfully, she had been a little too busy trying to steal glances at Shinobu in the garden to really pay attention to what she was doing. Her heart spasmed as she realized she had been putting together a ring during her mindless weaving. “Just a simple ring.” She said, trying her best to sound casual.

“That’s cute, planning on giving it to someone?” Shinobu teased.

“Well…”

“Aw!”

Shinobu and (Y/n)’s attention were brought back to Sachiko, one of her twin buns had unraveled and in her hand was a soft yellow butterfly clip.

“It fell out again.”

“It wouldn’t fall out, if you wouldn’t mess with it.” Shinobu reminded with a smile. She patted her lap and Sachiko quickly sat with her back to Shinobu so she could fix it. “That reminds me…” Shinobu’s eyes slid back to (Y/n)’s face, finding her looking almost guilty, “Where is your clip, (Y/n)? You aren’t wearing it again.”

“You know… it’s just too nice and I’m afraid I’ll break it.”

“You seem plenty gentle when dealing with those dandelions.” Shinobu pointed out.

“Well…”

“You’re a resident of the Butterfly Estate, so you should look the part, don’t you think?”

“It just, it doesn’t look right on me, you know? It’s so pretty and delicate and I’m so… not.” (Y/n) was intimately aware of how frightening she looked to the average person. Horns, claws, fangs and burning eyes… wearing such a pin would look more ironic than a statement of belonging. (Y/n) had not expected Shinobu to look so serious for stating what she thought was the obvious.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, (Y/n).” Shinobu stated, “You are very pretty, bewitchingly so, and though not physically delicate, I did see you cry over that perfectly healthy kitten that Kanroji-san brought over. On top of that, I picked a color with the intent that it would compliment you. Are you really going to deny me the pleasure of seeing the completed artwork?”

“That wasn’t my intention!” (Y/n) could feel her skin becoming warmer.

“Then go retrieve it.“ Shinobu smiled almost menacingly, softening when watching (Y/n) bolt inside.

(Y/n) came back to the engawa as fast as she could and gave the delicate pin to Shinobu. Sachiko watched thoughtfully as Shinobu placed the pin in such a way that she new (Y/n) would be comfortable and happy with it.

“There, just as pretty as I imagined.” Shinobu smiled. “And you know I’m always right, so it’s obviously true.”

“Yeah…” (Y/n) shared a bashful smile of her own, still staying close to Shinobu even after the pin was secured.

“If you’re gonna kiss, I’m gonna leave.” Sachiko’s nose scrunched up.

“Huh?!” (Y/n) squawked, “Sachiko! Why would you say that? We’re just talking!”

“For now,” Shinobu said mischievously, moving her face closer to (Y/n)’s, “uh oh… I’m getting closer…”

“Ewwww!” Sachiko made a few fake gaging noises as she ran back inside with her handful of dandelions, ignoring (Y/n)’s protests.

“Why did you say that?” The demon’s face buzzed with heat, “She’s going to give the rumor mill around here a field day! Everyone’s going to think that we’re— you know…!”

“I don’t see any issue with a rumor like that.” Shinobu spoke casually, “In fact, it would be even better if it was true. What do you say,” Shinobu leaned in even closer, “will you meet me in the middle?”

(Y/n)’s mouth gaped like a fish for a moment, her eyes flicking between Shinobu’s lips and eyes as if trying to ask if she really meant it before nodding and carefully closing the gap, making sure her fangs didn’t cause too much trouble when their lips finally met.

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #requests #melisuh123

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reverie-starlight · 9 months

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crawling back to you- fushiguro megumi

just something silly I started a while back that I'm finally finishing up!! i'm very in love with megumi and since I was doing a season one rewatch with my dad, I have plenty of megumi-centered thoughts I can't talk abt with him. but I can write them!! and YES okay the title was a failed bug pun.

warnings: just fluff! death of a spider, though. megumi is a little annoyed, but it gets resolved super fast, so no angst at all.

gn! reader, no specified gender or physical description, but they do stay in the girl's dorms for this fic for the sole purpose of being nobara's next door neighbour!!

You opened your door and stopped in your tracks when you saw something scuttle across the ceiling from the corner of your eye.

A loud gasp was released and Nobara, already in her PJs, peeked out from her door to see what the fuss was. “Y/n? You okay?”

You frantically beckon her over, your eyes never leaving the beast that decided to infiltrate your room. She made it to your side and followed your eyes.

“Ew! Why’d you have to show me a spider right as I’m about to go to bed? Now I’m going to be paranoid all night, thanks a lot.” She crossed her arms and made a yuck face.

“Nobara,” you started, deadly serious, clutching her arm. “I need you to use your hammer and nails to get this thing. We don’t have to get close to it that way.”

She looked as though she was seriously considering it for a moment before reluctantly shaking her head. “Y/n, cursed energy is for jujutsu work, not creepy crawlies. Besides, it’d leave some nasty holes in your wall.”

You sighed and almost resigned yourself to having to find a long stick or something to get it with. But then she spoke again.

“What about Fushiguro? He brings out his demon dog for you to play with all the time, right? What’s one more non-curse related job for a frog who’d probably love a snack?”

This finally brought your attention away from the eight legged monster on your ceiling. You looked at her with so much admiration and thanks and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Nobara you’re a genius! Thank y-“

You visibly deflated when you realized that your boyfriend wasn’t exactly happy with you at that moment.

Nobara winced. “Ouch, is he still upset?”

You nodded and frowned. Of course this would happen at a time you didn’t have him as back up.

It was a petty argument that got you into this situation- in the shared kitchen for the students, you accidentally ate a snack of his that he had been saving, which you apologized for. Great! Should’ve been over with after that, right?

…Except you accidentally did it again the next day AND forgot to put his milk back in the fridge that he had just measured out for some recipe he was excited to try.

And even though you apologized and he reassured you that it wasn’t that big of a deal, mistakes happen, he still wasn't letting you hang out in his room after training as usual. He seemed to be annoyed with you at the very least.

With the long week he’s had from being sent on two missions back to back, you understood why. He really need the mental break that you accidentally took away.

So yeah, you really doubted that he’d be willing to kill a spider for you when he’d barely even talked to you in the past 24 hours (save for his usual good morning text and a peck on the cheek when he saw you in person).

Nobara patted your back and sighed. "I think you should go ask him anyway. He's probably suffering from Y/n withdrawals by now, you know? Yuuji said he was sure he caught Fushiguro pouting on their jog earlier. Could be a good sign."

You looked at her hopefully and smiled. "Thanks, Nobara, but I think I'll just wait until morning. I'm sure if I could just find a-" your attention was drawn back to the ceiling and a feeling of dread washed over you. "Nope, I'm going right now, the spider's fucking gone," you quickly shut your door and stepped away.

She made a blended noise of disgust and fear. "Alright, I'm out. Good luck and don't let that thing out. If I see it in my room tomorrow I'm putting my nails through your clothes." She waved and headed back to her room.

You waved back and headed the other direction, towards the boy's dorms. Since it was getting late, you had to be mindful of noise so you wouldn't get caught by any faculty member- especially Gojo.

If he were to catch you "sneaking" over to Megumi's room, you were pretty sure you'd never hear the end of it, and even more sure that it would just irritate your boyfriend further.

So you put your stealth to the test until you were finally at his door. You quietly knocked three times, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear it.

When he opened the door, he raised an eyebrow at you and checked out in the hall before dragging you inside so you could talk at a somewhat normal volume.

And of course you wanted to take the time to make everything up to him, to talk it out for real and not have him be annoyed at you anymore- if Nobara said he was starting to have Y/n Withdrawals, then you had already been feeling the effects of Megumi Withdrawals since his first mission earlier this week- but right now the most pressing matter on your mind was the spider currently lost in your room.

So you decided that sweet talking him was the way to achieve your goal of getting his help.

"Megumi, love and light of my life, my one and only, my beloved-"

"Please stop."

You got down on your knees and took hold of his hand. "I am so sorry that I have ailed you this week, I promise that I will be more mindful moving forward and use my eyes to look for your name on things in the fridge-"

"You don't have to beg for my forgiveness, get up." He was basically a tomato, his whole face red and slightly covered by his hair. If you weren't on such a time crunch, you might keep going just to tease him.

"And I come to enlist your help on a quest that only you have the required tools to complete!"

"Ah, there it is. So you just need my help, then?" He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but you caught it and immediately stood up to explain yourself.

"Baby, no, I do genuinely want to apologize and fix things! But um... yes, I do actually have a problem that only you can help me with."

He sighed and regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, what is it?"

You immediately lit up and shook his hand excitedly. "Really? Thank you so much!"

"So... what is it?"

"There's a spider in my room, and I lost it and I need your toad to eat it."

He gave you a deadpan look before throwing his head back with a long sigh, looking at the ceiling. "Alright, let's go."

On your way back to your room, you fell into silence. Mostly because you didn't want to get caught being out past curfew, but also because neither of you really knew what to say.

Once you were in front of your door, you opened it and let him in. He summoned his toad and helped you search for it (by helped, you really meant he did all the searching while you stood outside and quietly directed him to where you saw it last.

"Can you at least come and help me look?" He asked, currently looking around on the floor under a couple of bags.

You hesitantly walked in, surveying everything before standing next to him to double check.

He broke the silence first. "You know... I really wasn't mad at you for any of the kitchen stuff. I know I told you that already, but I feel like you don't believe it."

You sifted through some clothes. "No, I did. I guess I was just sad that you weren't letting me hang out with you as much. I totally understand it- you needed a break from everything and I respect that, but I wish I could have helped before you got to that point. And I'm serious, I'll keep a better eye out before I accidentally eat your stuff." you both kind of laughed at that.

It was silent again for a couple seconds. "I'm sorry I kind of pushed you away and isolated myself."

You smiled a bit. "I'm sorry I kinda tipped you over the edge."

You turned to face each other for a moment before he wrapped you up in his arms. "You didn't. I promise next time I feel overwhelmed I'll let you know so you don't think I'm upset with you," he mumbled.

"Thank you... I love you."

"I love you too."

You stayed like that for a moment before you pulled back a bit and smirked at him. "Nobara told me that Itadori said you were pouting on you jog together earlier."

He blushed. "I was not. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

You giggled a bit and cupped his face. "I would bet a million yen that you were!"

He groaned and tried to gently pry your hands away from his face. "Stop it... I was not pouting, I don't pout."

"You so do! You're doing it right- holy shit Megumi the spider is right there gET IT PLEASE-"

The sweet moment was ruined by the spider from earlier scuttling across the ceiling over your bed. You jumped onto your boyfriend for protection, even though he couldn't do much while supporting your entire bodyweight so you wouldn't fall. He managed to send the toad after it, and it happily chased it with its tongue.

The spider was no more.

You settled back on the ground and patted the toad on the head before Megumi released it back to the shadows.

You sighed in relief.

"Thank you, my love, I appreciate it."

He nodded at you. "No problem. I should head back to my dorm now before-"

"Want to stay with me?" You tentatively interrupted.

He paused and looked towards you. "We'll get in trouble if we're caught."

You tugged on his hand a little. "Please, Megumi? I've missed you this week..."

He sighed and let you pull him to your bed, hiding a small smile when you cheer. "Fine, but I'm leaving before the sun comes up. I'm not letting Gojo think he has anything over me."

You giggled. "That's fine," and then you both got settled under the covers.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't missed you while he was isolating himself, but he pushed any thoughts of that away and fell into a peaceful sleep with you in his arms.

this took foreverrrrr but it's finally done since I have time to write today!! ty for reading, hope you all enjoyed <3

#megumi x reader #jjk megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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sterek-stuffs · 1 year

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Do you get annoyed when people say the Sterek fandom is dead? Well, prove them wrong by reblogging this fresh new rec list of fics published in the past three years!

Pulling Strings by Gia279 54k words, M

Stiles and Derek pull off the ultimate game of survival charades: fooling the alpha pack into thinking their leader, alpha of alphas, demon wolf Deucalion himself, is still alive, in order to find the location of the Darach and save Beacon Hills and their pack, while Stiles learns to control this brand new, unusual power.

The Curse of the Love Sweater by HisBeloved 56k words, E

The "sweater curse" or "curse of the love sweater" is a term used by knitters to describe the belief that if a knitter gives a hand-knit sweater to a significant other, it will lead to the recipient breaking up with the knitter. When Stiles and Derek were children, a misunderstanding created a rift between Claudia Stilinski, owner of The Hale Yarn Company, and Talia Hale, the best knitter and spinner in the county, leading to the opening of Lucky Ewe, Claudia Stilinski's yarn store. Stiles and Derek have been lifelong competitors at the Beacon County Fair and after their mothers died, became owners of competing yarn shops. Derek is a budding knitwear designer on the eve of the release of his first book of patterns. Stiles wants him on his popular knitting YouTube show despite the decade-long feud between the Stilinski's and Hales. Hijinks, fluff, and ridiculousness ensue, and the boys get their happy ending.

Don't they know it's the end of the world? by flemoncake, mute90 20k words, M

Stiles thought being in love in a dangerous, post-apocalyptic world was a bad idea. He voted for pleasant, casual sex all the way. But being afraid of love doesn't stop it from coming after you. Being afraid doesn’t stop anything from coming after you.

love in suspension by creationmyth 6k words, T

They walk side by side back to the camaro, Derek’s all tensed up while Stiles hums some unnamable tune under his breath. When they finally break the treeline, Stiles pulls Derek by the arm so they’re face to face. “Thank you,” Stiles tells him quietly, making sure Derek knows he’s sincere. “It’s what we do.” It is. It really is. (or: Stiles and Derek learn, over time, how loyalty becomes love.)

ouroboros (get it right) by yesimirreputable 5k words, M

You try again, and the story's always the same: you never make it past eighteen.

a light and darkness in the heart of the forest by thedaughterofkings 10k words, T

There's a beast in the forest, they say. If you call to it, it will answer. To save his mom, Stiles will face up to it and hope the price won't be higher than the reward.

nothing but hope and virtue by dappledawndrawn, LeafZelindor 60k words, T

Senator Derek Hale, a California Democrat, had considered a future where he needed to hire a new campaign manager. He'd always expected to hire someone from inside the campaign. They'd have been familiar, respectful, come into his office carefully, with nervous excitement, and called him "sir" too much when asking for their first assignment. They'd have been familiar with the ins and outs of working with a werewolf pack, and everything would have been fine. Not great, maybe, but fine. But instead, Deaton retires with no warning, and almost sight-unseen, he hires Stiles Stilinksi, who is sprawled across his office couch, entering random contacts from Derek's Rolodex into his phone. Derek's a little in love with him. It's going to be a long campaign.

Fairy Wings and Beastly Tails by Bliz, PalenDrome (nerdherderette) 8k words, T

The prince knows it’s risky. He thinks about how he could manage without his wings; what his life would be like without flying or the ability to do spells. He thinks about his father and Scott, and all the others he’d leave behind if he fails. But then he thinks about the creature and the sadness in those green eyes, and how the image haunts his dreams. “I’ll do it,” he says as the Oak Witch’s grin grows wide.

Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale 86k words, E

Seven years after being tricked and imprisoned by the Argents, Derek Hale finds himself off the blistering coasts of Antarctica aboard the Argentum Domina, an illegal prison ship out of which the Argents operate their behemoth, underground poaching empire. Bitter and packless, Derek spends his days working off his servitude by poaching creatures for Gerard to sell on the Black Magic Market, no future or end in sight. Until, Allison Argent brings him a capture case with a reward price so ludicrous that he has no choice but to accept. The only problem is, the target creature shouldn't even exist. Derek is flung fast into the deep webbings of a bigger mystery than he could have ever imagined. And discovers that, like this enchanting creature, not everything is as it seems.

My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee 18k words, T

Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield. "Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs. His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull. If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.

A Functioning Adult’s Field Guide to Enemies With Benefits by BisexualGoblin (LadyBoBo) 31k words, E

The six years Stiles was away for college, he certainly missed a lot—namely the whole best friend turned into a werewolf thing. But he didn’t think he missed enough to get replaced by a douche bag like Derek Hale. Now with Scott’s wedding looming, it’s the perfect chance for Stiles to show Derek who the real brains of the operation is. If only he could stop jumping into bed with him…

Let's build a beehive by GreyHaven 25k words, G

Ten years after he last saw Derek, Stiles' life is in ruins and he has nowhere else to turn. He has Derek's address but will he be welcomed? A post canon AU about healing, growth, acceptance, and love.

Handstands For You by Fenris13 15k words, E

"No, really, you don't have to—!" Stiles hisses, flinching as Derek rubs soap with needless intensity into the cut. "Shut up and keep still," Derek growls back. Stiles whines in response, squirming in Derek’s grip but otherwise following the order. Stupid werewolves and their stupid regeneratey-healy powers. It’s not Stiles’ fault that he’s wimpy and human, so when he gets thrown down a flight of stairs and through a rotten wooden wall by lake monsters, he still remembers it the next morning.

Shaking the wings of their terrible youths by Daisyapples 29k words, N/r

Stiles didn't expect much when he stopped a stranger being attacked in an alleyway. He didn't expect the wolf following him around New York, didn't expect the help when he was sick, didn't expect the psycho blond attacking him, or the place to stay. He didn't expect the new family. Oh, and he definitely didn't expect werewolves.

Dear Fellow Traveler by lanalua (this is me!) 32k words, M

Years after shit went down in Beacon Hills a traumatized Stiles is dating Lydia and living in New York, trying to avoid and get over anything related to the supernatural. When he finally decides to go back to his hometown and face his fears, he will be lead down a path of self-discovery that will change the course he had set for his life. Stiles shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Derek, it was just that he couldn’t. If he’d had magic the whole time, did it mean he could have been less useless back in highschool? Did it mean he could have helped, maybe kept Erica and Boyd alive? Kept Derek and Scott from leaving? It was too much. Guilt tore through his stomach like an arrow. He felt himself start to hyperventilate again.

As always, check the tags in individual fics to find out if they're right for you, and don't forget to leave the authors some love!

#teen wolf #sterek #teen wolf fic #sterek fic #fic recs #sterek fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #fic appreciation #fanfiction #teen wolf sterek #teen wolf fanfiction #it's me i'm the one that gets annoyed when people say that! excuse me I'm right here??? and also all of these wonderful writers as well???#long post #sorry about that btw

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theres-a-body-here · 1 month

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Can I request Evan, Tarhos and Talbot finding out that the reader (along with other survivors) actually managed to defeat the Entity?

Like, their usual Killer routine is suddenly interrupted by a slight trembling of the ground, like a minor earthquake. They hear distant echoing wails, like a few hundred different beasts screaming everywhere all at once. Then, everything quiets down. At the fog around the area, which was always present to some degree, starts dissipating.

They then spot a group survivors, all are uncharacteristically happy. Some are crying out in joy, some are just crying, some are hugging each other, a few just lying down, looking very relieved. The reader in amongst their group, and eventually notices the Killer.

The reader then excitedly tells their partner what happened. That through some complicated sequence of actions and rituals that even the reader didn't fully understand, the survs actually managed to beat the Entity. And the two of them are finally free.

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan keeps you close as the realm begins to break apart

He would've pulled you away from the rest entirely, but he knows you might want to say your goodbyes to the others

He won't take the portal back to his world, not even if you beg

It's a terrible, miserable place

But he's also nervous about going to your world

So be sure to reassure him

But honestly, even you aren't sure if these portals will let you two stick together

So he gives you a big kiss, just in case

He gets really into it, much to the discomfort of anyone watching

You have to pull away, flustered and hot-faced

You grab his hand, and after a few final waves at the others, finally leave the Entity's realm

The Knight - Tarhos Kovács

He's panicking hard

Him and his guard have you sandwiched right in the middle of a makeshift protective circle

Escaping to his world is out of the question

The conflict and bloodshed is no place for you

Your world it is

Tarhos turns to his guard and "releases" them for their service and they can go home without him

They say "nah" and insist on tagging along

The earth trembles and Tarhos lets out a startled yell as he lifts you up and jumps into the portal with his squad not far behind

The Blight - Talbot Grimes

He's angry and distraught

All his work in the realm, meaningless now

So many more questions, and no more time

He's not even sure if he wants to leave

But then you open your mouth

"If you stay, so am I"

That snaps him right out of his trance

His hands furiously start signing

"No" "I won't let you" "Please go home"

You want him down and he decides he can always start research in your world

He takes what he can and leaves with you

#male!reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #male reader #dead by daylight #dbd #trapper x reader #the trapper #evan macmillan x reader #evan macmillan #blight x reader #the blight #talbot grimes x reader #talbot grimes #tarhos x reader #tarhos kovács #dbd the knight #the knight x reader #the knight

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katerinaaqu · 1 month

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Epic the Musical:

Circe: Oh my! He cannot be transformed by my powers! What do I do?! What do I do?! Think think I need to protect my nymphs! Oh I know! He's a man after all! I'll seduce the hell out of him to get my power over him back! He clearly can defeat my entourage of wolves and lions all by himself! I mean he's damn immune to my magic! I am sure he can do anything with his sword!

Circe: *aggressive flirting*

Odysseus: Oh my gods oh my gods she is hot...what the hell?! Oh I am just a man! Forgive me... No! Wait! J can't! I love My wife way too much! Please let us go home! I miss my wife!

Circe: Awww that is so sweet! Of course darling. I was always a sucker for a good soap opera. Of course I'll help you free of charge and here's some useful tips for your trip! Drive home safely!

The Odyssey:

Circe: Oh my! This man actually had the AUDACITY to come in my home and threaten me! And he took all precautions (a God helped him no doubt). Finally a man I can consider worthy of standing by my side and not bad looking either!

Circe: Come on, darling. Remove your clothes and let's get down on it! Let's see what you've got!

Odysseus: (oh my! Forgive me Penelope that is the only way to save my men! Hermes told me not to refuse her a thing! She is a freaking goddess that commands all these wild beasts! Power over me or not she's a force to be reconed with!) F-Fine but I cannot do what you ask before I ensure my men are safe. Please release them first and then I will (gods gotta buy myself time! Ain't prepared!)

Circe: *does that*

Odysseus: *sighs* I guess we're doing this...

*A year later*

Odysseus: Okay men you had your fun but I can't keep entertaining her forever! We must go home!

Odysseus: Please Circe let me and my people go! We have to go back

Circe: Oh but can't you stay a bit more?

Odysseus: No...I miss my wife and son

Circe: Fine, my dear, if that's what you want... Your happiness is more important than my satisfaction and I love you so I shall let you go. You paid your price fully. Here are some useful tips for you, some provisions and good luck...

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thegnomelord · 7 months

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Hi, I want to start off by asking how you are doing, and that I loved the monster task force 141 × reader fic and the cyber-punk sagau headcanon’s.

Ok, now into the ask. Can you do a smut fic with Childe where the reader is a sub top and Childe is a dom bottom where Childe whorships cyber-punk readers body running his hands all over readers joints which are bonded so reader can’t touch him while overstimulating and orgasm denying (is reader able to be overstimulated and have orgasm's... if not then forget about those 2 kinks.

Sorry for the long ask.

Kink list to make it clear:

- Body whorship

- Bondage

- Overstimulation?

- Orgasm denial?

Heck yeah my peep, I'm doing better, and it's great that you liked my other stuff, sorry it took this long, med school is a bitch. Hope ya like it:DD

P.S: ya'll are always free to ask me/give me ideas of what to write, i'm gonna be trying to write more from now on.

Pious Worship

CW: NSFW, body worship, bondage, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mild electro play?, SAGAU au! Cyberpunk reader!, Sub Top reader, Dom Bottom Childe, riding, Dom/Sub dynamics, Worshipper Childe, Bondage. NOT proof read lol.

It had taken you a long while to convince him to do this. For all of his devotion he had been... hesitant; To please you was the highest form of reward anyone could dream of receiving, but what you had asked of him felt wrong — the thought of binding you like the heathens who'd fallen for pretty lies made him physically sick, the thought of chaining you, his guide, his light, his Steel Forged God...he couldn't even come up with the proper words to describe the sickening disgust he'd felt in his very bones.

But you are his light, his guide, his merciful creator, so how could he possibly refuse?

Childe is insatiable.

He rides you with wild abandon like a beast in heat, too caught up in the desperate chase for release and the need to please you to care about the strain in his muscles or his burning thighs. He slams his entire body weight down on your cock, moaning and babbling about how perfectly you stretch him out, how you fill him up so perfectly he can feel you in his throat, how happy he is to be the one who pleases you like this.

His heart flutters as you watch him, drawing pleasure from his pleasure rather than from how tightly his body grips you, your arms tied above your head with the finest silk. The corp remade you for warfare, not pleasure. Steel is unfeeling, it can survive more than living flesh, and with your enhancements you barely feel anything besides the hot tightness of his body.

He drinks up the little rumbles of your synthetic voice box he manages to pull when he takes you fully, driving his body to bounce faster on you, racing towards his second release while you are nowhere near your first. He moans whorishly, his fingers dig into your shoulder joints, cock twitching as sperm and electro shoot from his body.

A strangled sound leaves your lips before your body shuts down without notice, voice box giving a mechanical screech as it glitches, every artificial muscle in your frame contracting from the sudden flood of electricity.

"My Grace! Are you- no, no, no, no- please don't be-”

You hear his worried whimpers when your audio receptors finally come back online, your optics shuttering open yet barely able to see anything with the sea of blinking warning screens in your view. You feel his calloused hands on your cheeks, the usually dull sensation now making you shudder as your combatting systems had turned every synthetic sensor up to 11.

“My Grace, please tell me you’re okay, please, I couldn’t have- I didn’t mean to- I-, I-, I-”

He hiccups, and you manage a glitched warble from your frazzled voice box as you assess your internal diagnostics— his electro delusion had shocked you enough to lock your joints in place without damaging the vital life support systems in your core. You should be able to move again when the electricity wears off, your body geared to survive stronger EMP bombs. You tell him such, reaffirming that he hadn't harmed you.

"Oh, my Grace, I am so sorry, please, forgive me!"

He says, tears prickling his eyes as he rises off your cock, pulling a surprised gasp from you when that small sensation nearly makes you cum on the spot, your cock — your whole body — sensitive to the smallest touch.

And Childe gets...giddy.

Not like a child with a new toy, but like Dottore when an experiment is successful.

Childe hung on every sound leaving you, eyes growing wide; Had you thought of this? Had you prepared just for this to happen? For his electro to make it easier to feel, to make it easier for him to worship you? Yes, that must be it!

“My Grace, you are beautiful like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

His voice was a hoarse whisper as he slunk down your body, carefully holding up your leg with steady calloused hands. His lips are dry as he places reverent kisses the metal surrounding your exposed ankle joint. Your metal parts taste no different than the tips of his arrows, like blood and war, but the soft sounds you make from the odd sensation has him wanting to give more.

He doesn't even notice when he cuts his lip on a sharp edge, but aren't you proud of him? Who else would bleed for you like him? His tongue delves into tight little cracks between your pistons and wires where only the smallest of ripperdock tools had ever come. His tongue isn't as small, nor as precise, but the sheer eagerness in his movement has him touching and pressing on the sensitive sensors all the same.

You jolt, or you would if you could, overcome with sensations your body isn't built to process. More warning screens flash in your sight, static pleasure/pain buzzing along faux synapses. His heart all but leaps from his chest as he listens to the sounds you make.

So he redoubles his effort, clever little tongue licking at sensitive sensor arrays, mouthing and sucking on cables until soft frazzled sounds leave your glitched voice box. He can taste coolant on his tongue, his lips tingling with electricity, blood and spit mixing together in his mouth and making your metal parts glisten in the light. He polishes your ankle joint until it shines, before moving up towards your knee, tracing the edge where metal plates meet faux skin.

You're internal cooling system has started at this point, body shaking as best it can. Your sensors don't know how to interpret the sensations, corp augs having been geared for warfare and not worship, so the processors don't even try to categorize the new sensations into neat boxes. Instead you're hit with the full force of it, the feelings flooding your mind, zapping through every neural cell and artificial link.

He's at your hips now, eagerly sucking you off as his clever fingers busy themselves worming and rubbing delicate hardware and artificial ligaments beneath inside your hip joints. You feel like you're on the edge, your release so close you can feel it burning at the base of your cock.

But something is wrong, like a knot or a rock inside your stomach, something that's keeping you from cumming, forcing you to experience these overwhelming sensations. You sob, barely able to think, and his heart soars at making you feel this way, making you feel this pleasure.

He's quick to finish polishing your cock and even quicker to climb up and sink down again. But that only makes the maddening heat burning in your loins worse, every nerve in your augmented body feeling like it's on fire with no sight of release. You can barely see him through the cracks between different warning screens, sensor arrays screaming at you with information your body can't interpret any other way than pure sensation.

"Please, let me do this your Grace."

You watch — you can do nothing but watch — as he takes one of your limp arms. His muscles bulge beneath his skin as he has to work hard to move your arm now that your motors and pistons are momentarily inactive. He smiles at you, mouth opening wide before he puts your fingers in his mouth. Little jolts of sensation run through your body every time his tongue flicks between different joints, teeth scraping along faux skin and metal plates.

He continues to bounce on your cock, unaware of what blissful Hell he's making for you when he pulls your spit shined fingers from his mouth, urgently but carefully pawing at the plates which cover your hidden weaponry in your forearms.

"Your Grace, I'm a fool to demand this of you, but please, let me see them, let me worship you like you're supposed to be worshiped."

He says, eyes wide and pleading, laying desperate kisses at your wrist joint, lips almost burning from how hot your metal parts are becoming. He needs to worship you, all of you, especially the part you usually keep reserved for the battle field and nowhere else.

Your voice box is back online to the point where you can talk, and you know that if you told him, he would happily continue bouncing on your dick until you were finally able to cum, with all notions of his own need forgotten.

But you don't.

For as much as your systems may be screaming at you. For as much as your cooling systems struggle to keep you from overheating. For as much as you desire to cum... you want to please him — the first character you ever wished for, the first you ever mained, your favorite.

The look on his face when you manage to get your weaponry unlocked melts your heart despite the lustful heat in your chest. Your combat systems are blissfully unaware of your true intentions as they power on the pistons and gears in your weapons, making them extend to their proper configuration.

"Thank you, thank you your Grace!"

He breathes, immediately reaching out to trace the sharp points of your weapons with his tongue before he latches on the first joint that connects your weapon with your arm. It makes sensation, neither pain nor pleasure but pure feeling, rush from your arms right down to your dick still balls deep inside him.

Your vocal box glitches a second time, your head moving just an inch as you're subjected to his torturous worship again, and you can only pray that your body is able to move again before you loose your mind to the pure sensations.

#centerpieces of the hoard #x reader #male reader #top reader #dom genshin x sub reader #sub reader #dom Childe #Dom tartaglia #genshin impact smut #cyberpunk sagau #genshin cult au #top male reader #childe tartagalia #bottom childe #genshin impact x reader #answering asks

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Text

You Are a Memory {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: END GAME SPOILERS!!! AGE 18+ SCENARIOS

Starts after Sebastian’s questline and goes until the two of you are in your 7th year, aged up to 18+. Sebastian has just killed his uncle, and it finally dawns on the two of you how far down the dark path you’ve gone. You aren’t good for one another, and it’s time you let each other go.

Could be a standalone, but if you’d like some extra background on yours and Sebastian’s relationship, feel free to read these first: Pining in Potions Class, Pretty Thoughts, and Selfless. (I like to write a non house specific reader, but Gall of a Gryffindor can work too if any of you Gryffindors out there want that little extra).

Word Count: ~ 5,400 😬 whoopsies

Warnings: Kissing, Angst, Sex (first time making love, gender neutral so not crazy explicit smut level, characters are aged 18+)

Author’s Note: Listen listen listen listen… it’s not that I don’t like you guys. I just wanna make you pretty cry a bit, okay? You and Seb have been too happy together in my short stories and I’m ready to be the drama and add a little spice. This is my first attempt at a sex scene and a gender neutral one at that. I’m happy with how it turned out, but I’ll keep pushing myself to write better. Enjoy everybody, hope you’re having a good day 😊

Songs (if interested, bonus songs because it’s a long one today, pop them on and join my sad vibes):

You Are a Memory - Message to Bears

In This Shirt - The Irrepressibles

Exit Music (For A Film) - Radiohead

September 15, 2017: Cassini - The Grand Finale - Sleeping At Last

Light - Sleeping At Last

Falling Colour - Vanbur

You finally left the room of requirement after having spent a good amount of your Saturday there. The magical beasts you saved were always excellent company, even in a time as dark as this. When Deek had excused himself for the night, it was then you realized you should probably get to bed yourself.

You silently cursed when you saw how dark and empty the halls were. It was difficult to keep track of time with the vivariums and Deek’s room ambience enchantments. No question you were well passed curfew. Though, a detention was the least of your worries at the moment.

You heard your name called from somewhere in the darkness. You gasped and turned quickly to see Sebastian pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” The two of you hadn’t spoken since he ran from the cave. You hadn’t sought him out when you returned to the castle. You let him have his space, and heaven knows you needed it too.

“I needed to see you.” He said, not meeting your eyes.

“How long have you been waiting? I’m so sorry, if I had known -”

“It’s alright. I... needed the time to think about what I was going to say to you.”

Noticing the room of requirement’s door was still there, you pulled him back in with you. “Let’s talk in here.”

Sebastian’s eyes roamed the room. He would have been in awe at the beauty of it all. But the image of his dead uncle and the heartbroken look on Anne’s face took away any levity the room could have given him.

With Sebastian’s hand still in yours, you guided him to a nearby couch which had been your favorite spot aside from the beast vivariums, though you had a feeling it wouldn’t be any longer after your conversation that night. You sat and gently tugged at his hand for him to sit down with you.

Releasing your hand, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He looked down at the floor, and you waited for him to speak first. You didn’t want to rush him.

“How did things go so wrong?” He buried his face in his hands, his voice faltering. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to -”

Hearing his distress, you placed your hand on his back, rubbing up and down.

He took a shaky breath to right himself. He then grabbed your hand that was rubbing his back and held it in his lap. He rubbed a thumb across your skin and stared at the lines that graced your palm. “We need to end this.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and tears stung at your eyes. You also knew the two of you were heading this direction, but to hear one of you actually say it out loud still broke something in you. “I know.” You whispered.

Sebastian shot a hand up to cover his eyes, desperately trying to stop tears of his own from falling. His shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back. “I know.” You said again, still with no conviction. “I’m just as tempted by the dark arts as you are, Sebastian. If we stay together, I'm afraid we’ll cause even more damage.”

“I don’t want this.” He choked through his tears.

You held him tighter, the tears finally falling down your cheeks. You breathed in his scent once more, taking in everything you could of him before he would leave that night. “Neither do I.”

He gently tugged at your arms to get you to release him. He stood to his feet and made his way to leave. You knew you should let him go, but you jumped up from the couch and called for him just as he was going to open the door. “Sebastian!”

His fingers hovered over the handle, he turned slightly to look at you. He waited for you to continue, but you could only stare at him, eyes sparkling with tears.

Digging his heels into the ground, he closed the distance between the two of you in only a few steps. He took your face in his hands and crashed his lips onto yours. You met him with just as much need and grabbed at the fabric covering his chest to keep him close. The both of you whimpered at the despair in your kiss, cheeks wet with tears. This was the end of it and there was no running from the pain.

Before you knew it, Sebastian left your embrace, speeding out of the room. Once the door shut behind him, you collapsed to the floor and allowed your sobs to consume you.

The remaining days of your fifth year went by the slowest. Each day you weren’t working with Professor Fig on your ancient magic and going through the keepers’ trials, you struggled to fill your time. Poppy was finally taking it easy after you had helped her with the centaurs. And Natty was still recovering from your fight with Harlow. Her mother had a closer eye on her than ever before, so spending time with her away from the castle wasn’t happening.

Every time you saw Sebastian, you did everything you could to keep your distance and avoid looking his way. At first you tried to sneak glances, but you found it hurt too much, and it only tempted you to run back into his arms.

“Maybe we were too rash. Maybe we can be better together.” You envisioned yourself saying to him, but you knew it wouldn’t be true. It was made clear every time you left the castle and ran into poachers. They made it difficult to stray from your dark path. Seeing what they had done to so many animals, you were nowhere near done with the cruciatus curse. You weren’t good for Sebastian, you needed to accept that and let him heal. He could be better, and he would be.

You don’t know how you made it out alive against Rookwood and Ranrok, yet there you were. You shifted uncomfortably in your bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Aside from some deep gashes that needed stitching, a ton of bruising, and a sprained ankle, you had managed to make it out all right. But Professor Fig hadn’t, and it weighed on you heavily.

Word spread fast about how you fought alongside the professors to defend the school. All your friends had come to see you - well - almost all of them. Even some people you didn’t know very well came to check in.

When Ominis came in to the hospital wing, you felt yourself go stiff. Along with leaving Sebastian behind, you left Ominis as well. You panicked at the thought of facing him. If you had never entered their lives, Sebastian might not have been able to dive so deep into the dark arts. He might have listened to his closest friend and the whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

“How are you?” Ominis asked as he pulled up a chair by your bedside.

“A little roughed up, I suppose. And you?” You were afraid to ask, because the conversation could so easily move towards Sebastian.

“I’m well thank you. And a little roughed up? From what I hear you sound like you belong in this hospital bed for the remainder of the year.”

You began to laugh but then hissed in pain, grabbing at your side. “Well, I can’t really disagree with you there, can I?”

He gave a soft chuckle, and then he fell quiet. The look on his face made it seem like he was debating his next words. “Look, I heard what happened between you and Sebastian.”

“Ominis, please -”

“Let me finish. I heard what happened between the two of you but I’m still here for you. That day you took on the cruciatus curse for him, I knew you’d proven yourself to be a true friend. I understand why the two of you are no longer speaking, and as much as I’m sure it hurts, I agree it’s what’s best for the both of you. Please know, you don’t have to be a stranger when it comes to me.”

It hit you how much you had missed Ominis as well. “Thank you.”

“I'm afraid I have to get going now, I snuck away from Sebastian to check in on you. I feel I’ve constantly had to talk him out of coming to visit the second he heard what happened.”

You nodded your head, “It’s best he doesn’t come. I think I’d fall out of this bed and crawl right into his arms if he had.”

“I thought the same.” He stood up from his chair. “Now get some rest. I can grab something for you from Honeydukes later.”

“Chocolate Frogs, I’m begging you.” Just as you were starting to cheer up, the thought of Hogsmeade reminded you of Rookwood, and what he had told you before he tried to kill you. “Ominis, wait. There’s something you and Sebastian need to know about Anne.”

Sebastian couldn’t stand it. Though he knew full well Ominis was right about how he shouldn’t go to visit you, it had gotten to a point where he wasn’t able to sleep without having seen how you were doing with his own eyes.

Sneaking out of his dorm, he made his way to the hospital wing. He crept in, cloaked with the disillusionment spell and stood at the entrance. Eyes searching, it didn’t take long to spot you. You seemed to be the only student admitted.

He tiptoed over as not to wake you. When he reached you, his heart crumpled at the sight. A majority of your body was covered by the blanket, but from the skin he could see on your neck and face, you were riddled with bruising and stitches. Without thinking, he brushed his fingers along your cheek.

You let out a soft moan and Sebastian yanked back his hand, panicked he had woken you. But you went quiet again, the only sound escaping you was your breathing. He should have listened to Ominis, seeing you again like that had pulled him right back in. He needed to get out of there.

Just as he as he turned to leave, you mumbled, “Sebastian?”

He looked back fearfully, thinking he was caught. But you were still sound asleep as you murmured his name. He ached to kneel before your bedside and grab your hand. He wanted to kiss it over and over, reassuring you saying, “I’m here. I’m here. Everything’s alright now.” But he couldn’t, and before he could fight himself on it any longer, he forced his feet to move one in front of the other until he was back in his dorm.

It was the beginning of your seventh year at Hogwarts when the Triwizard Tournament was announced to take place. It sounded like just the thing you needed to get through your last year.

You don’t know how you made it through your sixth year, it wasn’t nearly as eventful as your fifth had been. Though you were thankful everything seemed to be going a lot smoother in the world and your friends were safe, you were still uneasy with all the free time you had. You busied yourself up in the room of requirement if you weren’t with Poppy or Natty, and would stay just late enough to make it back right before curfew.

Though it was impossible to not see Sebastian, you did everything you could to minimize the chances. By the end of the year, you had found a good routine to get you through the rest of your time at Hogwarts. And adding this tournament on top of it could really help you thrive.

You fiddled with the folded up parchment that had your name written on it as you stood in the crowd around the Goblet of Fire. You were standing side by side with Natty who was also going to put her name in, the two of you waited for your turn to walk up. It was interesting watching all the Beauxbaton Academy and Durmstrang Institute students put their name in. They all looked so confident, and with such athletic builds, you couldn’t believe some of them were only 18 years old like you were.

After Natty placed her name in, you clapped along with everyone else and threw in a special holler just for her. Then it was your turn. As you were about to let the parchment fall in and be swallowed up by the flames, you looked out to the cheering crowd and locked eyes with Sebastian. Out of everyone around you, how did you manage to spot him? Dropping your name in, the crowd erupted in applause. You bowed your head and smiled as you left the circle.

When you returned to your position amongst the crowd, you tried to shake the image of his face from your mind. The way he was looking at you when you entered your name into the fire, it was almost as if he was crushed to see you do so. But you immediately dismissed the thought. It was dark in there and the only light source came from the Goblet, you couldn’t have possibly gotten a good read on his reaction. You two were no longer in each other’s lives and it’s been that way for a while. Get over yourself. He wouldn’t care what you did any more.

“You? But... why?” Was all Sebastian could ask his best friend. Ominis had just informed him he was the one taking you to The Yule Ball. Sebastian had known you were going with someone after overhearing you turn down a Durmstrang student, apologizing and explaining you already had a date. He had been in a dreadful mood ever since. But his sour mood turned perplexed at Ominis’ announcement.

“Honestly? Because I’m afraid of what you’d do to anyone else who did. Also, it looks good for a Gaunt to be going to the ball with the Hogwarts champion, if I’m not going to be the champion myself. Got my family off my back somewhat.”

Sebastian sighed. “Ominis, you didn’t need to trouble yourself. I’m fine now. We’re fine. We haven’t spoken in who knows how long. The two of you should go with people you -” have an interest in. He finished in his head, unable to say the words aloud without feeling sick.

Though he’d hate to admit it, Sebastian was filled with immense relief Ominis was the one taking you to the ball. He had seen the rather large amount of people who had approached you, and he wanted to shoo off each one of them. But he had no right, he needed to let you live your life. After all, it would have been highly hypocritical of him considering he had said yes to going with Amelie Dupont, the champion for Beauxbatons Academy.

Sebastian and Ominis waited side by side at the bottom of the stairs for their dates. He was hoping with every fiber in his body that you would walk down those stairs before Amelie did, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist watching you come down with undivided attention. And that would be horribly rude of him with his date at his arm already.

But of course, Amelie arrived first. He shouldn’t have expected any different knowing how you were. Always off doing something until the last minute.

With Amelie’s arm linked in his, all champions and their dates stood, lined in formation to enter the ballroom, except one.

“Ah Mr. Gaunt, here is your date now.”

Sebastian shot his gaze to the stairs at Professor Weasley’s words and went stiff. In that moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped. You were breathtaking. He had never seen you in such formal attire. For some reason, feeling foolish about it then, he had expected you to be dressed in some variation of the Hogwarts uniform. It had been all he’d seen you in for the passed year and a half.

“So sorry I’m late.” You called down as you descended the steps, watching your step as you did so as not to trip in your new fancy shoes. You were still breaking them in and weren’t the most confident. When you looked up your eyes met Sebastian’s, and the way he was looking at you had your insides twisting.

Sebastian swallowed thickly when you looked his way, and for a brief moment he let himself live in the fantasy that you were walking down the stairs to meet him. Time slowed down and memories began popping up all at once in his brain: the first time you met, the both of you trying to hide your laughter at Garreth’s nonsense in potions class, your first kiss in the library, all your sneaky pecks to his cheek, and even the times he’d rest his head on your lap as the two of you laid in the grass under the sun.

“Alright you two, join the line here.” His thoughts were interrupted at Professor’s Weasley’s voice. You took Ominis’ arm and got in the back of the line. Sebastian made himself face forward, awaiting further instruction.

“You look very handsome, Ominis.” He heard you whisper to his best friend.

“Thank you, I’m sure you look wonderful yourself.” You and Ominis cackled.

Walking out in front of everyone and doing the traditional first dance was all a blur. Sebastian hadn’t been able to compose himself after he saw you coming down the stairs.

Once the dance was over, he excused himself from Amelie and went to the washroom. He leaned against the sink, trying to steady his breathing. How could he have ever thought he was over you? You still meant as much to him then as you had when you parted ways in the room of requirement. He was extra thankful Ominis had been your date, if anyone else had been and he had to watch you link arms with them he didn’t think his heart could take it.

Once he returned to the ball, his eyes landed on you and Ominis on the dance floor. You were talking and laughing with him easily, seeming to not have a care in the world.

Do I have even the slightest effect on you anymore? Sebastian wondered as he watched from afar. He thought back to when you put your name in the Goblet of Fire. Your eyes had met his and he silently pleaded with you not to go through with it, people died in this tournament. Though he knew you were capable, having to watch you be put in harm’s way and he wouldn’t be able to help had him petrified. But you dropped it in and turned away, proud to have your name in the running. When your name was chosen from the Goblet, because of course it was, the terror and misery that went through him was paralyzing. Ominis had to help keep him steady the rest of that day.

He had a sick hope he made you hurt at least a little having come with Amelie. But you were the one on the dance floor, happy as can be, not the one trying to keep it together in the washroom like he had just been.

Sebastian went and found Amelie. He apologized and asked her for another dance.

The night went by decently enough for Sebastian. Amelie was beautiful and talkative, so when the two of them weren’t dancing, they were surrounded by a group of people asking her an abundance of questions. He was thankful she took the reins in conversation because he wasn’t in a socializing mood. Every now and then he took glances your way, not once did he catch your eye.

It was nearing the end of the night and Amelie had asked if he wanted to go back to the dance floor. He looked out and saw you and Ominis were back out there already.

“I - I apologize, I promised a friend a dance and it’s slipped my mind ‘til now.”

Amelie nodded with a smile and went back to speaking with a few Durmstrang students who were eager for her attention.

Before he knew it, he was making his way over to you and Ominis. When he reached the two of you on the dance floor, he held out a hand towards you.

Your laughing and dancing ceased.

“May I cut in?” Sebastian asked, gaze on you unflinching.

Your insides began buzzing with nerves. The thought of your first time interacting with Sebastian again through a dance was nearly too much to handle.

“Go ahead.” Ominis said with a smile as he released you, his approval taking you by surprise. “I need a rest anyhow.” Before you could protest, he was gone, leaving you and Sebastian alone.

You tentatively grabbed his hand and he pulled you into a dance. This being your first time speaking and touching after nearly two years, you didn’t think you would be able to look him in the eyes. But that was the only place you could look.

The two of you didn’t speak, it seemed you didn’t need to. Over the course of your dance, the two of you moved in closer, dismissing the official waltz stance you were supposed to be in. Your arms found their way around his shoulders and his around your waist. He leaned his head against yours as you slowly swayed from side to side.

You had fought so hard to distance yourself from him, and all it took was one dance to pull you back in. You never wanted to let go. Because as soon as you let go, he would be gone from your life again. The way he was holding onto you made you believe he had the same worry. You breathed in his scent like you used to do when you were this close. You hummed and pulled him closer, he still used the same cologne you loved.

Sebastian closed his eyes, imagining it was just the two of you in your own little world. He relished every second of this dance with you. Having you back in his arms felt right, like this was where you were always supposed to be.

“Excusez-moi? Sebastian, I’m getting tired. Would you like to walk me back to the dorms?” Amelie hiccupped, seeming to have had some drinks other students snuck in.

His eyes shot open and you tried to pull away quickly, but he grabbed your hand with a strong hold so you wouldn’t get too far. As the two of you looked at Amelie, you shook your hand from his grasp and cleared your throat. “Of course he would! Appreciate you letting me steal him away for a quick dance. Always great to catch up with an old friend. Goodnight, you two.”

Sebastian watched as you escaped to Ominis’ side, your vanishing warmth making him feel empty. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave things there and not speak to you for another year and a half. Dancing with you and holding you close would never have been enough to hold him over.

“You’ll have to guide me.” Amelie giggled, linking her arm in his. “This castle is a maze.”

“It can be. Would you excuse me one moment?” He slipped from Amelie’s grasp and ran to your side. He touched your elbow and your attention was back on him.

Your eyes widened at the gall Sebastian had to leave Amelie’s side. You already felt terrible she had to witness the two of you dancing the way you were, but truth be told she was probably too sozzled to notice. “Sebastian, you can’t just -”

“Meet me in the undercroft, I’ll be there shortly.”

“I can’t, I -” You gestured weakly to Ominis who was aware of everything that was happening.

“Please.” The rigor in his voice made it clear he wasn’t asking, then he returned to Amelie’s side.

You looked to Ominis, dumbstruck at Sebastian’s actions. “Ominis, you need to speak with him. Get him back to his senses.”

But Ominis only shook his head, “Meet with him.”

After all this time, you found yourself in the undercroft again. While you waited for Sebastian, you looked around, nostalgia washing over you. You found your way next to a wooden table covered in markings you hadn’t remembered seeing. Sebastian’s, Ominis’, and Anne’s names were all over, along with some carvings of stick figures. One of the carvings was a heart with yours and Sebastian’s initials. You rubbed your hand over your chest in hopes to slow down your rapid pulse. Then you ran your fingers over it.

His heart ached as he watched you. “I did that when you were recovering in the hospital wing. I was a mess.”

You startled slightly at his voice.

“A few weeks after we... well...” He looked down, kicking the dirt at his feet, wanting to change the subject. “We haven’t bumped into each other down here since fifth year, have we? How often do you come these days?” He asked, looking back up to you.

“Oh, I... I haven’t been in here since fifth year.”

“You haven’t?” A large part of him hurt at the thought of you leaving the undercroft behind.

You shook your head, eyes continuing to roam around the room. “No. This place was always yours, Ominis’, and Anne’s. Never mine.”

“I tried to make it yours too.”

You met his dispirited gaze, and you didn’t know how to respond. You turned away and began meandering around. “What is this about, Sebastian?” You hoped he would get on with it, this whole night had been torture. Watching him dance with Amelie and barely leave her side, you were thankful you had Ominis to lean on.

He took a step towards you. “I want to be in your life again.” He blurted.

Your heart picked up its pace again and you froze. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but as much as you wanted to run and jump into his arms, you kept yourself in place. It wasn’t what was best for him.

“I want us again.” He said, taking another step towards you.

“Sebastian.” You sighed.

“Believe me when I say I’ve changed.” He began desperately. “I have no more temptations with the dark arts. Just ask Ominis! He’ll tell you how far I’ve come. I’m better now.”

You swallowed thickly in your throat. “But I’m not.” You confessed, barely above a whisper. You released a shaky breath and met his stare. “I am so proud to hear you’ve come far. Truly, I am. But I am still no good for you.” You glanced away from him then, unable to say it to his face. “I still use the unforgiveable curses... all the time.” You went tense at the admission, “These poachers Poppy and I come across, they conjure up something so monstrous in me, I -” You stopped yourself, not eager to explain further.

“I can help you.” He was by your side then. “I brought you into the dark arts. I can help get you out. My hatred for Ranrok’s loyalists? I was able to overcome that too.” He took your hand and pressed it to his chest. “You don’t know how far I’d go for this. I’m so in love with you it hurts. I can’t stand to see you and act like I don’t know you anymore.”

You shook your head at the overwhelming nature of it all, an unsteady exhale left your lips. The look on your face told him you were considering his words, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath. “Sebastian, if I pull you back to the dark arts, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You won’t.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips. “I mean it when I say I’ve changed. Have a little confidence in me, will you?”

You bit your lip, and thought through everything that could go wrong if you went back to him. But him telling you he was in love with you had taken away all your resolve. All the warnings you usually chided yourself with were falling flat, not being at all effective like they used to be even just a moment ago. You nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyes went wide, unable to believe it.

“Okay. And I love you too. So much, Sebastian.”

Sebastian picked you up and swung you in his arms, causing a boisterous laugh to spring out from inside you. He set you down and brought one hand up to cup your cheek, smashing his lips against yours. Being able to be with you like this again had him bursting at the seams with joy.

You kissed him back with just as much fervor. Your hands shot up to his hair and you gripped his locks between your fingers. He backed you up until you hit the wooden table you were looking at earlier. Without taking his lips off of yours he hoisted you up and positioned himself between your legs. He licked at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth partly for him to taste more of you. You let out a whimper, then you felt him press his front against yours. You gasped at the sudden feel of it and he made himself stop kissing you.

“I’m sorry.” He said breathlessly, forehead pressed to yours. “We don’t have to. I just couldn’t help myself. You just -” He buried his face into your neck and sighed, “Every time I see you, I go mad. I’ve missed you all this time and to finally have you here in my arms -”

You began to unbutton his shirt with delicate fingers. He pulled back and looked you into your eyes.

“A - Are you sure?”

You smiled at him and nodded your head, continuing to undo his buttons. He helped you shakily yet eagerly. Then he began to help you undress, covering you in comforting kisses as he did so. It was nerve-racking, undressing in front of each other for the first time. But you weren’t with just anyone in that moment, you were with Sebastian, and he was with you. The two of you were hopeful for the future, but in that moment neither of you cared what happened from then on. The two of you were ready, and you wanted be each other’s first.

You moved to the floor together, laying on your clothes, he covered your body with his. He leaned down to kiss you, his chest pressing against yours, and the feel of his skin was electrifying. You could feel his hardness pressed against you as you continued to hold each other, taking your time exploring one another in a way no one else had.

He shivered as you touched him, sighing your name against your lips. He dragged his fingers from your neck, lightly touching down your body, passed your waist, until he placed his hand between your thighs.

And right then, with the urgent need about to burst from both your cores, you knew there was no other place in the world you'd rather be. This ache you felt for each other left no room for doubt, this couldn’t have happened with anyone else, you were made for one another. You both were on the brink with each other’s touches, clueless how it could possibly feel better than it already had.

“I’m ready.” You whimpered.

Sebastian, eyes clouded with desire, nodded his head. You both adjusted until you fit each other perfectly, starting slow to get the hang of it, and eventually losing yourselves in one another in a tangle of limbs. You covered each other with kisses, licks, and even some bites as the need to melt into each other grew more and more. In those moments together, as your breaths and moans echoed throughout the undercroft, the only temptation presenting itself was each other, and it was pure bliss.

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