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perlelune · 6 months

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent.

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been.

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally.

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues.

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends.

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually.

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight.

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation.

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath.

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time.

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you.

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point.

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.”

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene.

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to.

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done.

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room.

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs.

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t.

It makes you realize how much you missed.

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest.

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it.

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead.

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you.

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds.

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness.

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest.

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side.

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss.

He returns to the space between your thighs.

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs.

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core.

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t.

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling.

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles.

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him.

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead.

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted.

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone.

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months

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the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it��s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

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colleendoran · 9 months

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I was curious how you manage to keep features consistent when you draw them? Do you use models? Is there a model for Crowley? He is very handsome.

I don't use models per se, but I sometimes keep files of photos or art that resembles the subject.

Crowley is based a bit on the French actor Alain Delon who was once considered the handsomest man in the world. He doesn't look exactly like Delon, but that is in my head when I draw him. I recall reading Neil and Mr. Pratchett once considered Peter Sellers for Crowley.

There is no reference for Aziraphale because he is entirely in my head and I can't really find anyone who looks exactly the way he does. I recall reading that Neil and Mr. Pratchett thought of Brian Dennehy at one point, but my head canon Aziraphale won. I think a Brian Dennehy Aziraphale would have been amazing, though. Anyway, he is actually kind of hard for me to draw because his facial structure is a bit outside my usual style. His face is a bit long and his eyes closer together than I normally do, and if I'm not careful, he slips away. He appears younger and more classically handsome as an angel than he does in his corporeal form, but I think he's quite fetching as a bookseller.

Michael Sheen is so perfect in this role it is really hard not to leak bits of his performance into the graphic novel edition, but I have to resist the impulse. I am not allowed to use any of the show actors as models.

I adore Michael Sheen. Who doesn't?

Adam is also a head canon character. He is a perfect young Greek God, so that's kind of drawing on a day with a Y in it for me.

The inspiration for Newt I'm keeping a secret. I submitted a number of sketches for Newt. The show Newt dug in deep and I had a hard time shaking him off.

The Them are based on kids I knew. They're in my head, I don't need any photos. They don't really look like the kinds in the show. The book version of Pepper, for example, is a freckled red-head.

Anathema is an amalgam of features that don't come from one person, which I think fits the description of the character. She's also unusual for me to draw but she's easier to draw than Aziraphale. I nail her every time.

Hastur is a caricature of the stereotypical English upper class you'd see in broadsheets 200 years ago. I have a file of pictures of Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury for Hastur. I considered making Hastur more handsome in a Duke of Hell sort of way, but I think Hastur likes to be scary. I keep thinking of Peter O'Toole when I draw Hastur, too.

I feel kind of bad basing Hastur on Lord Ashley because he was a wonderful person and I'm sure he didn't go to Hell.

Ligur is a broad caricature of Danny Devito. I obviously can't use a DeVito portrait. That would be wrong. But I can tweak from there and come up with a general idea of the face I want to use.

Beelzebub and Metatron are head canon, and don't look a thing like they do in the show. I postulate some demons prefer to look like their angelic selves, and at other times prefer to be fearsome. Crowley can look fearsome when he wants, for example. In the book, Beelzebub appears as a young man in red flames.

Shadwell was drawn from reference at the direct suggestion of Neil.

Madame Tracy is based on a certain person, but no one you would have heard of. The original source might not be flattered, but I love Madam Tracy. She's really easy to draw because she's a bit over the top. I'm sketching around her scenes right now because I don't have final approval on some things yet. So she might need some changes later.

War is head canon, very easy to draw. She's a knockout. No reference required.

Famine looks a lot like Famine in the show, actually, but that's what Famine always looked like, pretty much. Except he has the grey eyes he has in the book.

Pollution is initially described as being a forgettable white guy, but later described as looking like a romantic poet, which strikes me as being memorable. Because he's only on one page in his forgettable white guy phase, I chose not to make major changes in his appearance between those panels and later when he appears as his true self, because that's a bit more confusing than it needs to be in the graphic novel edition. He's rather glamorous as the essence of Pollution, though. No reference needed.

Dog is a dog.

While I do give every detail a lot of thought, I am sure other people have other opinions. I understand that, and hope you enjoy what I do anyway.

Thanks for your question.

I'm still a bit under the weather, so may be stepping away from the net for awhile so I can concentrate on work. I have a lot of sick time to make up.

But don't think I don't appreciate your interest in the Good Omens graphic novel adaptation. Your wonderful support is acting on me like a tonic, let me tell you.

kickstarter

#good omens #good omens graphic novel #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

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illicitlimerence-writes · 9 months

Text

game on | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 1.5k words request: nope.warnings: this is just porn. i tried to give it a little plot at the end but it's all just smut. 18+ only, minors dni. it's also badly written and not proofread so yeah a/n: i've been reading a lot of hotd smut fics for like a week and i guess this was inspired by them lmao. it's shit i know but it was an itch i had to scratch

my masterlist

(dear lord, i want him so bad)

the touch of a hand. the discovery of the shape of his lips. learning what makes her tremble.

none of her previous lovers could ever compare to what max made her feel. their connection was out of this world, something one only read about in books. it was magical, the way only they only had to share one touch, one look, and they knew what the other meant, what they wanted.

max loved her eyes. they were expressive and as much as she tried to hide her true reactions to the rest of the world, he only had to watch her for a few seconds to know what she was actually thinking.

he especially loved watching her eyes when they were being intimate. how the tears welled up as she tried to follow his instructions and just resist the urge to snap. how they'd widen in surprise whenever he first entered her, whether with his fingers, tongue or cock. she'd always roll her eyes back when he changed his pace to reach her g spot.

he always made sure to love every inch of her, starting with her face and cheeks, he loved how he could feel the heat rushing there, blood running fast. then he moved down to her neck, leaving small lovemarks all over.

her chest would heave, moving up and down with every shallow breath she took. the way she curled her fingers on his hair only spurred him on, encouraging to continue his way down her body.

slowly, he'd raise a finger and play with her nipples, biting his lower lip as he felt them harden beneath his touch. his mouth would follow his hands, wet tongue ready to stimulate as much as she'd allow.

he'd look up, watching her brows furrowed in a perfect frown. mouth slightly agape as soundless breaths left her lungs. even after years of sex together, she was still as sensitive as the very first time.

he continued his journey down her body, reaching her warm, wet cunt, he looked up again, seeing her already looking down at him. with a pillow beneath her hips, something max always insisted on having to help with her comfort, it was easier to watch his hungry eyes roam her most intimate spot.

his mouth watered at the sight, he hadn't even touched her there yet and she was already ready for him. his fingers touched the sensitive skin of her thighs, big, strong hands holding her delicately. she whimpered, so ready for him it was almost torture. the pad of his finger met her clit, carefully drawing circles on her bud. his eyes flew to her face, hair resting all over the white sheets, her chest still carrying the evidence from his previous attack.

"so beautiful," he whispered, removing his finger to replace it with his tongue.

he could die between her legs, with his face buried deep between her folds and tongue inside of her. what a heavenly way to die.

but he still had a job to finish, he could think about dying later, first, he had to make her cum in a way she’d never forget.

fastening the pace of his fingers on her clit, he drank all of her wetness, a sweet nectar that fueled him even more. he moved his mouth and fingers, switching their position so his mouth was on her bundle of nerves and his fingers entered her, slowly at first, two at once, as she was so ready and prepared for him.

she let out a soundless gasp, closing her eyes as she breathed in sharply. but max curled his fingers in that way only he knew how, making her arch her back and look up at him, the desperate look on her face made a shiver go down his spine.

"please, i want you," she whispered, voice barely audible, "need you, max," she begged, her voice mixing with the obscene sounds of him worshiping her cunt.

"hmm, are you sure you're ready for me?" he said as he sat up, fingers still buried inside her clenching walls, so tight, he couldn't wait to feel her around his cock.

"stop. fucking. teasing." she said, rocking her hips, chasing friction. he smirked, free hand slapping slightly the skin of her inner thighs.

“you didn’t answer my question,” he said, moving so his face was on top of hers. he moved his fingers in and out, a slow torture that made her shut her eyes, a frown on her face and a whine escaping her lips.

“i want you. i’ve been ready for you since you kissed me after your podium,” she whispered, feeling as he moved her hair away from her face and neck, the sweaty skin causing it to stick there.

the moments blurred together as she felt him entering, their lips met, foreheads touched as they both moaned and groaned, the electricity between them was almost palpable, the air was thick and they were the only people that existed in that moment.

her walls around him felt heavenly, clenching every so often as he changed speed or position, which made blood rush to his brain and his cock, getting even harder. it was like a chain reaction, she made a noise or a certain movement, and it caused a reaction from max, which in turn made him roll his hips, grip her thighs or kiss the sweet spot on her neck.

sex with max was a religious experience. she could never get tired of it, no matter how many nights they spent together. he always managed to make her feel loved, desired, wanted. he knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t know it herself. he wasn’t afraid to try new things and explore the limits of her pleasure. everything with her consent, of course, nothing was more important to him that she enjoyed things as much as he did.

when she thought she couldn’t hold her climax anymore she always closed her eyes, the air couldn’t reach her lungs as she gave sharp breaths, and that’s when max would change his pace or his position.

and as she closed her eyes, her inner walls impossibly tight around max’s length, max decided not to make her wait any longer.

his lips met hers, one hand over her throat, squeezing lightly as the other rubbed fast circles on her clit. the sum of the overstimulation brought her to a peak that was different from all the others she’d experienced.

her legs shook around him, she wanted to moan and whine, but nothing came out. she closed her eyes so tight that she saw stars, burying her nails on his skin, pulling him so close she could feel his heaving breaths. everything inside of her tensed and then relaxed as she came, max's fingers slowed down on her clit, hips rolling agonizingly slow as he fucked his cum back into her quivering pussy, prolonging the shocks of ecstasy running through their veins.

"i love you," max said, kissing all over every inch of skin on her neck.

"I love you too, my champion," she smiled, lifting a hand to push his hair back, cupping his cheek, her thumb on the dip of his dimple.

"not yet," he reminded her.

"the third one is coming. and you're so close to breaking a new record, you're on win number nine in a row. but ten? that's something no one's ever done before."

"yeah," he said, resting next to her, his back against the mattress. he was nervous about beating a record set by someone he admired so much.

"how about a little incentive?" she said, throwing a leg over his hips, gasping as she felt his cock nestled beneath her folds.

"i'm listening," he said, reaching for her hands, locking her fingers between hers. she started moving, slowly, back and forth, in circles, on top of his hardening cock. "angel-"

"next sunday, after you win your tenth race in a row," she leaned down, lips on top of his, "you get ten orgasms in one day," she looked up at him, shivering at the way his eyes widened.

"that's… a lot,"

"you don't want it?" she raised an eyebrow, leaning back up. max, in his panicked state, grabbed her hips hard and held her in place.

"i don't know if i could survive ten in one day."

"well it's up to you, it could be… you give me ten, i give you ten, or half and half."

"i like that idea better,"

"which one?"

"you getting ten," it was now her turn to shiver at the idea, but the wetness pooling over max's cock let him know she wasn't too much against that idea.

"we'll have to wait and see then," she kissed his lips, "but right now let's go for one more tonight."

"just one?" max laughed, his hand slithering down her body to touch her clit again.

ten wins.

ten orgasms.

game on.

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 1 year

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would you have any small writing tips to share with others who are attempting to write their own stories?

Sure.

Disclaimer: This is not a full on tutorial on how to write. These are just tiny, tiny little grains of wisdom of things I realized here and there. Do not eat this advice like a full course meal. It isn't one. It's just a dusting of some spices, and I am salt bae-ing them over you, but they are not calorically relevant without a story.

1. Help your readers read your story.

AKA: If you want your readers to build a house, you better take them to a Home Depot and teach them how to use a screwdriver first.

You want your readers to read your story easily? You gotta make your story easy to read. That means learning how to make sentences easier to understand. That means breaking up walls of text into smaller bites. That means - yes - spelling words consistently and using accessible (not Correct, necessarily, but ACCESSIBLE) grammar!

You want your readers to understand your world? You gotta give your readers tools to understand it with. That means explaining new concepts! That means describing stuff a lot! That means using visual language if you don't have actual visuals!

Your readers will not read your mind to know what you MEANT to say. You have to say what you mean. You have to mean what you write. Learn to write clearly. Learn to help your readers.

2. Something that takes you a month to make will take your audience ten minutes to read.

You want to spend an hour drawing one comic panel? Great. You wanna spend an hour writing a single paragraph? Fantastic. You wanna use up a week perfecting a script? Amazing!

Your readers will still glance at that panel for a second before moving on. Your readers will still eat that paragraph in a bite. Your readers will skim that script. If you're lucky.

You cannot control how much your work is appreciated. But you CAN control how much of your time you sacrifice to make it.

Balance the scales.

3. You are not talented.

Neither am I. Nor are any of us.

Listen to me. Listen.

Talent is a beautiful, useful word. But it often lies to us. It suggests that we are born better than others.

This is not often accurate. What talent hides within itself is not pre-ordained inherent skill. It is not something you are birthed being. It is not a statistical difference of physicality.

Talent starts with passion.

Maybe you have passion for stories - so you beg your grandfather to read to you before you can recognize words, and you write a lot in every school assignment, and you pay attention to EVERY story you watch in school plays, and you observe all the characters you see in movies, and you CARE. So. Much. And this moves you to try to write, and then to try again, and then to try harder.

Talent does not exist, because no amount of 'you were made for running' can make you run. No amount of 'you were the son of great authors' can make you write.

But inherent curiosity can push you forward. Inherent curiosity can make you watch, and observe, even before you understand you are observing. Inherent curiosity for your personal interests makes you a fan of writing, of drawing, of world-building. It makes you research how to be a great author before you even know what research is. It auto-tunes you to what you know is good about these things, and it gives you the necessary tools to know what will work and what won't.

So when you think you are talented, understand that this is not something that was done to you in the womb. It was something you raised, and watered like a seed, before you even knew what you were growing.

Don't rely on talent. Understand that you got this far because you CARE about this thing. And don't forget to care. Because that's what has carried you this far, and it is the only thing that can carry you even farther.

also, cringe is dead.

#chekhov answers

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allmyhomieshatelawns · 3 months

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Hiiiiii everyone I’ve become obsessed w Trolls, and by extension, several of the AUs here. In particular, @djmurphy ‘s Hypno Pop AU has had me in its clutches. I couldn’t stop myself so I wrote a lil somethin’ in between working on my Feral!Branch AU.

Bit of a warning, it’s def unreliable narrator, and yes, it’s supposed to be kinda creepy. I hope y’all like, please do not copy or post to another site. Lmk what y’all think!

"Hee, hee, hee, hee, heh, heh, eheh…" It wouldn't stop, no matter what I tried, nothing would make it stop. My face hurt, my entire body hurt if I was being honest. It was getting harder to do that. My voice wasn't my own, instead spewing false, toxic positivity that made me want to scream. It was hard to be honest even inside my own head when the compulsions wouldn't leave me alone either.

Keep Smiling. The compulsions hurt, but it hurt worse to try and resist. Like my nerves were being burnt. The compulsions made it easier to go about my day-to-day. I always knew what I was supposed to be doing, and how to be a good troll like everybody else. It was comforting to have a safety net.

Keep Singing. This one was harder to obey, but somehow even more painful to try and ignore. Whether I obeyed or not, it felt like liquid fire in my veins. I watched it happen over and over and over again. Every time I opened my mouth to sing, I saw her push me out of the way instead. It was painful fighting to go grey. My vocal cords always felt shredded, and they had lost a lot of their angelic body, sounding raspy, damaged.

Go To King Peppy. My numb feet carried me to the King's pod that he shared with his youngest daughter. I wasn't supposed to talk about Viva either, which was wrong. Poppy should know about her older sister, even if she never got to meet her. I knew a little about my parents, even if they had been taken before my egg hatched. At least I knew my parents existed. I wonder what my brothers are up to…

Part of me yearned to have them home still, that same part I was scared was getting dependent on the string. I would feel my feet quickening as the power of the string would begin to fade, heading to King Peppy's door, knowing I wouldn't skip. It was horrifying to think part of myself actually liked being like this. I still remembered resisting, or trying to, hating every moment of this prison. I remembered trying to scream, trying to get anyone to help me and I couldn't make myself do anything. Oh after the first close calls King Peppy had made sure to put in the compulsions to 'never alarm anyone'. Now people didn't panic when they saw me, and it was all thanks to King Peppy!

I reached King Peppy's office, knocking politely and entering the room as he bid me. King Peppy helped me when no one else could. He was the only one able to help me get rid of my greyness, the only one willing to do what it took to make me normal. I owed him everything. My smile was blindingly painful.

"Ah, Branch, perfect timing as always." King Peppy smiled broadly, opening his arms for a hug.

I leapt into his arms, the contact feeling like licking flames.

King Peppy held me for a moment, before setting me back down. He reached into his hair, pulling out a nearly-empty lyre, with one glittering pink string on it.

My heartbeat quickened seeing it, eyes tunneling to focus on the horribly beautiful string. It glowed with its own light, drawing me in and re-thickening the haze over everything I saw. I felt my shoulders begin to relax as the haze crept further, like a wild animal with its eyes hooded.

A few plucks of the string, and I felt my mind wash away in a comfortable haze. All of the anxiety and negativity bleeding away to the innermost recesses of myself. It was such a relief to not have to deal with all of those pesky emotions! Now I could just be happy and sing and dance and have fun like everyone else!

I smiled, my face comfortably numb from the fresh effects of the string. "Thank you, King Peppy! I feel much better now!" I chirped, hardly able to see him at all through the haze.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Branch! Now, I've still got some work to finish up, why don't you run along and find someone to play with until you're called for dinner?" King Peppy chuckled as he suggested it, placing the sacred string back in its spot, safely in his hair.

The village was still bustling even at this hour, people skipping about and holding hands and singing and dancing. It was amazing.

My whole body felt like it was floating, like I was only connected to it by a tiny string. I waved and smiled at everyone who greeted me, even if I couldn't tell who had spoken to me. It unnerved me not being able to see more than a couple of troll-lengths away at best. No shadows to see a hand reaching down for–

"Hey, Branch! There you are! I was just looking for you!" Princess Poppy's cheerful voice broke in before a compulsion could correct my thought.

My head whipped around to her voice, my smile still painful, but a little more genuine. Princess Poppy was a sweet girl, even if she was annoying. She was perfect and would make an excellent queen one day.

"Princess! What can I do for you today?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. She wasn't that much shorter than me, but I would take any excuse to get off of them. I had to stay fresh for more dancing, after all!

She beamed at me, somehow making it look effortless and completely sincere.

"One of the performers for my party tonight had to backout last minute. Would you be able to fill in? I don't need a full set or anything, just a couple of songs." Her voice was pleading, eyes big and pouty. She should know by now I can't say no to her.

"Of course, what's the theme for the party?" My grinning kept up, my lips not allowed to turn down in her presence.

"Thank you so much Branch you have no idea how much this means to me!" Poppy rushed out in one breath, leaping at me and hugging me tightly. I responded automatically, not having to think about hugging back. That was the nice thing about being a puppet in your own body at least.

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jesterwriting · 7 months

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Yahallo~ I was wondering if you might write something for Crocodile x reader where reader is sweet and bubbly and affectionate. So, I've had a scenario in my head for awhile where reader is his wife and she goes to visit him at his casino one day just because he hasn't been home in a while and she misses him. Except she's never actually been to the casino before, much less introduced to most of his crew because she's Crocodile's happy little secret. So the bouncers don't let her in and reader decides to cause a commotion, which draws Crocodile out and I'm never actually sure what happens from there. Lol I'd like it to be mostly warm and fluffy, though. I love the idea of a big cold man being warm only for their lover.

I hope you have a lovely day. You're a beautiful honey bun. ♡〜٩(ㆁωㆁ)۶〜♡

pairing: crocodile x gn!reader

contents: established relationship, fluff, secret relationships, kind!reader, smitten!crocodile, crocodile calls you doll, kind of implied the reader tops him later which i personally think is very powerful of them

word count: 1.3k words

note: this is such a cute and funny idea <33 i took some liberties with this, there is no big scene at the door, just because the kind personality of the reader i was going for clashed with that a little bit. and i went a gender neutral route just because it's easier for me. i hope you still enjoy anyway! i absolutely love secret relationships and would love to do more with crocodile and this trope :3

playlist: diet mountain dew - lana del rey

Not once did you care that you were one of Crocodile’s best kept secrets. You understood why such precautions were necessary. Your husband was a powerful man with countless enemies, to have his one weakness known to all would be a terrible oversight on his part. Not only that, but it would also put you in a considerable amount of danger. You were soft, you weren’t ashamed of it. To remain kind in a cruel world took strength. In your opinion at least.

Sometimes, however, it took more strength than usual to remain understanding. This was one such occasion.

You had your own life outside of your husband, much to his dismay. It was half the reason he insisted on keeping your union under wraps. If Crocodile had it his way, you’d be by his side 24/7, or at the very least, surrounded by bodyguards everytime you left his line of sight. He was a cautious man by nature. One did not achieve the power he had by being reckless, especially not with those he loved.

That said, Crocodile hadn’t been home in days and you were starting to get worried. You knew his work was dangerous, keeping Alabasta safe from pirates was not what you’d call an ‘easy’ job. Instead of waiting around for him to return home on his own — inevitably to grump about the kisses you placed upon his facial scar, or the tender way you ran your fingers through his hair — you decided to seek him out. If there was one place where he would be, it would be at the casino.

Unfortunately for you, they wouldn’t let you in.

“Again, the casino is closed to all outside patrons for an event. I can’t let you in if your name isn’t on the list.” The doorman was starting to get frustrated with you stubbornness. You understood why, really you did. This was his job and you had been pestering him for the better part of thirty minutes. While you had patience, you were no saint. This whole situation was starting to get on your last nerve.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out a sigh. “And I get that, but I’m looking for my husband. I know he’s in there, can’t you go get him for me and we can talk outside the venue?”

The doorman hummed, considering the option. Finally, he gave you the smallest of smiles, the first you had gotten from him the whole night. “That’s doable. What’s his name so I can send someone to fetch him?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. This wasn’t going to go well. How many people tried to sneak their way into events using your husband’s name? For all this man knew, you were another lovesick fan, trying to get a whiff of the hero of Alabasta’s cologne before you were escorted out by security.

Whatever. It wouldn’t hurt to try, you thought.

“Um. Crocodile?”

The doorman burst out laughing, head thrown back and tears spilling down his cheeks. “Listen, you’re a looker, but you’re not that good looking. Now scram, I have a job to do.”

With a deep breath, you tried again. “I’m serious, he’s my husband. Please let me in.”

“Yeah, and I’m the king. Don’t make me call security on you.”

If Crocodile found out that the doorman called security on you, the man’s job would be down the drain before he could say ‘sorry.’ You didn’t want that, even if in your current irritation, you’d feel quite a bit vindicated. It was people like him that kept your husband safe, even if he did so in a rather frustrating manner.

You shuffled your feet, blinking a few times at the man who laughed in your face. Okay, maybe you did want him fired, but you were better than that. Kinder than that.

There was a commotion coming from the casino. You peered behind the doorman to see your husband surrounded by a hoard of Alabastan citizens, all clamoring for his attention. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, relieved to find him safe and sound. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind for worrying you so much, the doorman’s glare was starting to get to you. Now that you knew he was alive, you could wait a little bit longer for Crocodile to return home.

“Well, thank you for your time,” You said as politely as you could. Even then, the words came out forced between clenched teeth.

The doorman merely rolled his eyes in response. Right before you turned your back, you caught your husband’s gaze. Crocodile’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of you, surprise replacing his previous annoyance. Flashing him a small smile and a wave, you turned to make your way home. You barely made it a few steps before Crocodile’s hand was on your shoulder, his grip firm enough to hold you in place. The crowd that surrounded him was gone, off to find someone else to celebrate with — or pester, as Crocodile was prone to say.

“What are you doing here, doll?”

Whipping around, you slotted your hands on your hips and hit your husband with the worst glare you could muster. You tried not to be disappointed when all you were met with was a glimmer of amusement. “Looking for you. It’s been days since you’ve been home, I was starting to get worried.”

Crocodile shrugged and took an inhale of his cigar. “There was no need for you to come here, I was coming home tonight.”

“And how am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind reader,” You shot back.

Crocodile sighed, a cloud of smoke accompanied the action. You really wished he would quit, but you weren’t naive enough to believe you could convince him. The doorman coughed a few times, drawing both you and your husband’s attention. He looked absolutely dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of him. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and you had hoped he had enough wherewithal to keep himself hidden so as not to earn your husband’s ire. Evidently not.

“I am so sorry,” The doorman started, hands numbly raised in surrender.

Wow. This man was the biggest idiot you had ever met. Crocodile slowly turned in his direction, a single eyebrow raised.

“You’re sorry?” Your husband's expression split into a furious glower, and for the first time that night, you felt truly sorry for the doorman. “And what are you apologizing for? I better like the answer.”

Before the man could speak, you placed yourself between them. “He was just doing his job, love. No need to get all fussy. Why don’t you walk me home and we can talk more? I’ve missed you.”

Crocodile’s expression softened when you grabbed his arm and leaned into his side. With his flesh hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him. Before you left, Crocodile reached around you and into his breast pocket. When he removed his hand, there was a wad of beri in it, a fatter stack than usual. He tossed it at the doorman’s feet.

“Forget what you saw here.” Crocodile narrowed his eyes, his hook glinting in the dull lamplight. “Or I’ll be seeing you again. Privately.”

“Don’t flirt with the poor man, he looks like he’s about to wet himself.”

Crocodile merely grumbled — affectionately, you knew that grumble anywhere — as he started in the direction of your shared home. “I don’t flirt and I don’t fuss, you know this, doll.”

“Bold of you to lie to my face when I’m still not sure if I’ve forgiven you yet.”

You had. It was hard to keep the grin off your face when Crocodile was warm against your side, the scent of him filling your nostrils until your head was fuzzy.

Oh, how you couldn’t wait to kiss him pliant in the comfort of your bed later tonight. For all of Crocodile’s power, you had him absolutely wrapped around your little finger.

#one piece x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x yn #crocodile x yn #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x you #crocodile is so lana del rey coded everytime i write him i got her on full blast #.jesterwrites

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gleefullypolin · 6 days

Text

Romancing Mister Bridgerton Book Spoilers for reference:

Everyone is getting up in their feels about how Colin is going to handle the LW reveal and I know the show has really ramped up the drama compared to the book with extra risk however I still think some of the book is relevant here. Stick with me, this gets lengthy...

We’ve all seen the rumors. Brothel smothel. I’m not here to soothe anyone’s mind or spoil the show. I’m not a brothel hater from part 1. I felt the scenes while not completely fun to watch, were part of the story. Colin is playing the role he feels society is asking him to play. He seeks out this part while still feeling this enormous loneliness from it (see journal entry). He also does not seek out intimacy, there is a reason he is with 2 women and not 1. It is easier to avoid intimacy if you do not have to be one on one. There is much to draw out of the brothel scene but I’m not here for that. Either way, we may see him return to one in part 2 and we may not. I am withholding judgment until we know how it plays out and what he does there. Colin will have a huge secret that he cannot share with anyone, he may not have many places he can go. So I’m just going to wait and see.

However, I also know that Show Colin is as Book Colin, Kind. He is forgiving. And lets look past the situation and go to where he will return to Pen AFTER he has resolved to continue his conversation regarding LW.

Colin will definitely be angry. Pen lied to him. And she wrote as LW after they were engaged and announced. This will definitely I am sure be a punch to the chest. I feel for Colin. This again is imperfect people making mistakes. Pen made one here. In the book she made the same mistake:

“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Don’t touch you?” His voice grew mocking, and Penelope was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Not yet,” she warned him.

“Oh, but you are. You saw to that. It was rather clever timing, actually, waiting until our engagement ball to make your final announcement. You knew I didn’t want you to publish that last column. I forbade it! We agreed—”

“We never agreed!”

He ignored her outburst. “You waited until—”

“We never agreed,” Penelope cried out again, needing to make it clear that she had not broken her word. Whatever else she had done, she had not lied to him. Well, aside from keeping Whistledown a secret for nearly a dozen years, but he certainly hadn’t been alone in that deception. “And yes,” she admitted, because it didn’t seem right to start lying now, “I knew you wouldn’t jilt me. But I hoped—”

So yes the show is different here because he already knew she was LW at the engagement in the book and published after they agreed she wouldn't. But same premise in the show, she lied to him after the engagement. so work with me here, She knew that Colin would not leave her even after she posted her article. It was wrong. She knew it. But she did it anyway.

“You hoped what?” Colin asked after an interminable silence.

“I hoped that you would forgive me,” she whispered. “Or at least that you would understand. I always thought you were the sort of man who…”

“What sort of man?” he asked, this time after the barest hint of a pause.

“It’s my fault, really,” she said, sounding tired and sad. “I’ve put you on a pedestal. You’ve been so nice all these years. I suppose I thought you were incapable of anything else.”

In the book you start to see that Colin becomes concerned about Pen, this is where his concern comes in, he’s worried about her safety here. He wants her to allow Cressida to just have taken the fall. She is being reckless.

Colin looked away. He didn’t know why he did so; it wasn’t as if he could see her in the dark, anyway. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. She sounded vulnerable, tired. Wishful and heart-broken. She made him want to understand her, or at least to try, even though he knew she had made a terrible mistake. Every little catch in her voice put a damper on his fury. He was still angry, but somehow he’d lost the will to display it.

“You are going to be found out, you know,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You have humiliated Cressida; she will be beyond furious, and she’s not going to rest until she unearths the real Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope moved away; he could hear her skirts rustling. “Cressida isn’t bright enough to figure me out, and besides, I’m not going to write any more columns, so there will be no opportunity for me to slip up and reveal something.” There was a beat of silence, and then she added, “You have my promise on that.”

“It’s too late,” he said.

“It’s not too late,” she protested. “No one knows! No one knows but you, and you’re so ashamed of me, I can’t bear it.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Penelope,” he snapped, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

And now we start to shift. The conversation of anger to shame.

Colin crossed the room and fumbled in a drawer for a candle and the means with which to light it. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he reiterated, “but I do think you’re acting foolishly.”

“You may be correct,” she said, “but I have to do what I think is right.”

“You’re not thinking,” he said dismissively, turning and looking at her face as he sparked a flame. “Forget, if you will—although I cannot—what will happen to your reputation if people find out who you really are. Forget that people will cut you, that they will talk about you behind your back.”

“Those people aren’t worth worrying about,” she said, her back ramrod straight.

And now we talk about society. We talk about what Pen has done throughout the years. What her words have meant across the ton.

“But forget all of that,” he continued. “You have spent the last decade insulting people. Offending them.”

“I have said lots of very nice things as well,” she protested, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Of course you have, but those aren’t the people you are going to have to worry about. I’m talking about the angry ones, the insulted ones.” He strode forward and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Penelope,” he said urgently, “there will be people who want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t see that she has tried to hurt people. Pen is not a bad person. She has written the truth. Even when it has hurt people she doesn't see herself as a bad person, she is NOT and I mean to say this clearly for those that have not heard me, she is NOT a villain. But here is where it gets interesting for me and it will harken back for me to the show. To the MOST important conversation that Pen and Colin have ever had.

“What I want to know,” he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn’t wander down such dangerous roads, “is why you’re not jumping on the perfect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous.”

“Because remaining anonymous isn’t the point!” she fairly yelled.

“You want to be found out?” he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “But this is my work. This is my life’s work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can’t take the credit for it, I’ll be damned if someone else will.”

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life’s work. Penelope had a life’s work.

He did not.

So lets go back to Season 2. To this most important and intimate conversation that I think they have ever had together.

Pen: I am certain you will find your purpose one day. Everyone must eventually.

Colin: Have you found yours?

Pen: Of course not. But I imagine it to be something both animating and satisfying. The type of venture that speaks not to who I am but rather who I am to be. My purpose will challenge me to be brave and witty. My purpose will propel me far beyond the watchful glare of my mama. My purpose shall set me free.

Colin: What could possibly measure up to all that? Your dreams are grander than you let on, Pen.

Pen: Yes, they are mere fantasies, but I do believe we must allow ourselves those private moments so we may face reality armed with our reveries.

This is what we built up to, this right here. This is what we lead to in Season 3. And that will lead us to Book Colin. This is what they are giving us and it is glorious. And I love it. And I believe this is our New girl kiss and this is our Mirror and I am here and I will believe in this because this is our Polin!

She was amazing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, when he’d already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn’t yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

She was amazing.

And he was…Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

“I’ll go,” she said softly, turning and walking toward the door.

For a moment he didn’t react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

“No,” he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. “No,” he said again, “I want you to stay.”

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. “But you said—”

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. “Forget what I said.”

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn’t been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he’d reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life’s work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if he let her walk out the door right now, he would never forgive himself.

This will lead to jealous Colin because suddenly the woman he is marrying has her purpose, he still does not, his new wife is successful, a writer, who he deems himself to be. This woman who compliments his writing suddenly has clout to do so. This is Book Colin coming home to us. But at the end of the chapter...let us remember, he would not let her walk out the door because even with all of that, the deception, the jealousy...he would not forgive himself if he let her walk out the door, because he LOVED her.

#polin #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #bridgerton therapy #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington

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nix-writes-mcyt · 2 months

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Saw Skizz on your list of people you write for while going through your request info again so I just had to request something!!

I just know being held in his big beefy arms is like heaven on earth! So maybe some sweet cuddling in bed on a nice warm day?

Love your writing so so so much!! -XB anon ❤️

I love me some beefy arms, just ask my fiancé haha (no but really I will swoon). I've mentioned this in a previous post but this is actually very much influenced by my relationship with my fiancé who is on his last night shift of the week when this is posted. It's a hard time for us both but it's worth it when he gets home. All this to say, if you want to write one of the biggest tips I'd give is to draw from real emotions and experiences. It really helps to give a subtle bit of depth which gives your readers an easier time feeling that emotion themselves!

Working Late

Drabble Contains: Fluff -------------------

This evening has been hard, you knew it was coming but it has still been hard.

Skizz had told you he really wanted to finish his shop and would do so by any means necessary, the problem was that that meant you'd had to spend the evening alone, which was fine. You'd sorted a few bits out around the house, walked the dogs, made sure that everything was in order for the morning. It was all fine.. except for one problem.

The one problem came when it was time for bed, which was that you'd have to go to bed. Alone. You'd hoped you could stay awake until Skizz got home, but that wasn't the case.

Once midnight had hit you were falling asleep on the sofa, which the dogs seemed more annoyed at than you. They liked that spot.

So, begrudgingly, you'd made your way to the bathroom, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and gone to bed.

You'd had a miserable time falling asleep. It was too cold and too quiet without him there. You tried to read, but your eyes couldn't focus on the words. You tried to listen to music, but it just wasn't the vibe. So you'd given up and laid there until you'd eventually fallen asleep.

Until a few moments ago, when you woke up. The room is still as dark as can be, you're still exhausted. Groggily, you reach over to the side table and tap the button on the clock. 3.37am. It's been an hour, maybe a bit more. You're unsure what time your really managed to get to sleep.

It's still cold, you're still alone. Your heart sinks. He probably won't be back tonight. So you pull the duvet closer, attempting to fall back into your slumber.

You can hear your own breaths, the sound of your heart beating. It's just not the same without him here. It's not as easy, doesn't feel as safe.

Yet, slowly your body begins to relax, darkness taking back over. You barely register the sound of the door, the shuffling, or at least you're too far into sleep to be able to react.

A familiar weight moves the mattress, duvet going with it as he takes his usual spot. You make some sort of grumbling noise at being disturbed, but a sigh escapes you as he gets close.

One arm drapes itself over you, then pulls you in. One strong, familiar arm. His voice is sleepy too, muttering "don't you grumble at me it's time for cuddles."

You feel yourself smile, possibly only internally, although it's too dark to know. Not that you could see your face without a mirror anyway.

You shuffle to get more comfy pressed up against him, warming up quickly. Then you shuffle again to stuff some blanket between the two of you to stop the heat. "Just that hot am I?" He giggles, clearly about to drift off. Somehow you find it in you to respond, "don't need heating when I have you." He lets out an amused huff, but like you is too tired to say any more.

The silence is filled with the soft sound of his breathing, plus your cozy and warm now. That's not even to mention how safe you feel being in his arms again, those wonderful arms that are so strong holding you so carefully against him.

With what you're sure is a soft sigh you're able to comfortably drift into a peaceful slumber, dreaming only of Skizz, how much you love him, and the wonderful arms that leave you feeling so safe and secure (and flustered, but it's a calm, peaceful sleep. Sue me.)

#skizz x reader #skizzleman x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcytblr #mcyt #skizz #skizzleman #fluff #comfort #cute #cuddles #inspired by my irl relationship

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chronosdawn · 2 months

Text

Disequilibrium - Vampire!Zhongli x GN!Reader

Do I have a good reason for writing yet another drabble about vampires? No, not really, but here we are nonetheless.

Content warnings: contains blood-drinking and biting, could be interpreted as yandere if you squint at it.

Word count: 1.4k

You had never realized how much body heat was able to seep through clothing until now. The motionless, shirt-covered chest beneath your palms leached the heat from your fingers through the fine fabric. You fought against a shudder as Zhongli carefully moved the collar of your shirt away from the base of your neck, revealing the soft skin underneath. It was a struggle to keep the muscles relaxed as he’d told you to, even if you knew the advice was given solely for your benefit, to make sure his fangs did as little damage as possible when they sliced into your flesh.

This was far from the first time he’d fed from you, but it would be the first time he’d done so in his house, the opulent surroundings a far cry from the spartan space you called a bedroom. All of the previous feedings had taken place there; it was to help you relax, he’d said, much easier for you to draw on the comfort of being in your own space to get through those first few times. And now that you’d grown used to the pain and the odd numbness that followed, to the dizziness that plagued you for at least a full day following each one of your sessions, you’d been deemed ready to attempt something a little further outside your comfort zone.

The feeling of Zhongli’s chest moving under your hands brought you back to the present—a breath drawn to facilitate speech rather than out of any actual need.

“You’re nervous,” he said, his voice low in your ear. “Have I pushed for this too soon?” Whether he was referring to your current location, or the fact you were currently seated in his lap when all of your prior encounters had involved only your wrist and a healthy amount of personal space, you couldn’t say. Regardless of which it was, you shook your head, thinking of the contract you’d signed—dark red ink on thick vellum.

“No, not at all, you’ve been very patient with me. I just need to get used to it, I think.”

“If you’re sure.” From this position it was impossible to make out his expression, the side of his face only just visible out of the corner of your vision. “I have some calming teas I could brew for you before we progress, if you believe it would help you to relax.”

“No, that’s okay,” you replied hurriedly, “best to just get it over with. Thank you for the offer though.”

You expected that to be the end of the discussion but Zhongli still made no move to bite you, instead tracing circles over the area where your neck met your shoulder with his thumb. He must have removed the gloves he always wore without your notice, you realized at the sensation of his ice cold skin against your own.

“I would not have suggested this if I thought you were incapable of handling it. Just remember everything I’ve told you and the pain will only be brief.”

You nodded and shut your eyes, allowing him to take more of your weight as you did your best to relax against him. The arm around your waist held you steady, while the hand at your neck moved to delicately grip the back of your head, carefully tilting it to provide better access to the network of veins at the base of your throat.

The feeling of his fangs slicing through your flesh was familiar and foreign all at once. The initial sting of the bite felt no different at your neck than at your wrist, but you’d underestimated how much more intimate the whole experience would be compared to what you were used to. It took everything in you not to panic and start struggling—not that you’d have anywhere to go if you did. Zhongli’s hold on you was gentle but firm, and you knew without trying that fighting against it would be an exercise in futility and little else. It was safer like this, he’d told you, back when it was only an arm he’d held as opposed to your entire body. If you moved while he was feeding then there was far too much risk of you injuring yourself, of his fangs tearing inelegantly through your flesh before he had the chance to pull away.

As promised, the pain was short-lived, replaced with a numbness that slowly spread across your shoulder. You tried to block out the sensation, along with the sounds of him lapping up your blood, so much louder now that it was right by your ear. Instead you directed your thoughts towards the contract, no doubt stored somewhere in this house, hidden away between trinkets and finery collected over hundreds, if not thousands, of years. You thought of the promises made in stark red on cream, of why you were spending your Friday night in the lap of something many would call a monster instead of being out with your friends.

Finally, after minutes that seemed to stretch into an eternity, Zhongli drew away from your neck with a final swipe of his tongue to keep any blood from trickling down and staining your shirt. The area was already starting to tingle faintly as his vampiric magic began to work at the twin puncture wounds, knitting skin back together such that by the time tomorrow came, the only evidence of the bite would be the weakness plaguing your limbs.

“You did well,” he said, the hand at your side moving in soothing strokes over your waist. “As I knew you would. How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you replied a little breathlessly, going to sit up more only to be hit by a sudden wave of vertigo. “I’m a little dizzy though.”

“That’s perfectly normal after a feeding. Are you able to stand?”

“I think so.” Zhongli’s hold on you loosened and you attempted to slide off his lap, only to have the room spin and blur around you the moment your feet touched the floor. You were forced to cling onto him just to keep yourself upright, your hand scrunching the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh dear,” you heard spoken softly behind you. Zhongli stood and lifted you into his arms in a single fluid motion, your head lolling against his chest as the movement sent the room spiraling anew. “It appears I may have taken too much, my apologies. If you are amenable to it, I would like to suggest you stay here and rest for the night. I would like to keep a close eye on you over the next couple of hours and I fear if I take you to your own abode, I will not be able to watch over you if I wish to make it back before sunrise.”

You tried to nod in agreement only to immediately regret it as your surroundings twisted up around you, instead muttering a soft confirmation before closing your eyes. The movement of air over your limbs told you Zhongli was carrying you deeper into his home as you lay limp in his arms. Any thoughts of protest were buried under the churning motion in your head and the nausea that followed. You doubted you’d even be able to make it to the front door in your present condition, let alone the half hour walk it would take for you to get home. And that was if Zhongli would even allow such a thing, the vampire had been nothing if not fastidious about your safety ever since you’d signed the final stroke of your name.

There was the sound of a door opening and it wasn’t long before you were lowered onto soft, silken sheets.

“Rest,” Zhongli said, a cold hand trailing over your cheek. “I will prepare something to aid with your recovery once you wake.”

“Sorry for troubling you,” you mumbled, consciousness already on the edge of slipping away as you fought to open your eyes.

“It’s no trouble.” He hadn’t turned the light on when he’d entered the room—likely didn’t need to see your dazed expression clear as day despite the gloom—leaving his face bathed in shadow. “Sleep, I will return shortly.” You watched as his silhouette retreated from the room, turning back towards you just once as he reached the door. His eyes were all you could see, twin shards of bright amber in a sea of black and dark gray.

And then the door was shut behind him, and you were plunged into total darkness.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #vampire AU #I don't know if I ever intend to do more with this but I did have fun with it #Hope you enjoyed reading it!#also if you've seen this banner used anywhere else #it is one I've made but I've used it on other blogs so that may be why

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georgie-weasley · 1 year

Text

Mastermind F.W. x reader

Warnings: one swear word, talk of Death Eaters destroying shops, reader tries to play Fred like a game of chess but it's not weird, two mentions of Fred's forearms and his tummy

Word Count: 4.4k

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: You were going to get Fred Weasley if it was the last thing you did a.k.a how the reader tries to see if Fred likes them and makes him like her by trying to be 12 steps ahead of him

A/N: Another shout out to Taylor Swift for inspiring me to write

Masterlist

Fred Weasley. What a fine, fine man. Everyone could see it. There was not a soul on the planet who thought otherwise and if they did, they couldn’t have been real. He was beautiful, divine, delicious.

The first time you saw Fred was when you were 11 at the sorting. He was funny, trying to switch places with his twin and all, but you were both children. The only thing you were thinking about was what house you would be in and if your parents would be happy with that placement.

Throughout your Hogwarts years, you didn’t spend much time with Fred. Sure you shared some classes and you saw him in the halls but you never really interacted with him. Actually you spent more time with George; it was quite impressive how quickly you could tell them apart. The first time you really looked at Fred was during your sixth year at the Yule Ball. When you saw him standing there in his dress robes, you decided then and there you were going to have Fred Weasley even if it was the last thing you did.

The Great Hall had been emptied of the large tables and benches to create an open space perfect for dancing. That was exactly what you did. Your date, a sweet Hufflepuff boy named Justin, and you had been dancing the night away and enjoying your time together. He was cute and made you smile and everything was going amazing until Fred. He had been there the whole time but it wasn’t until now as he shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves that you cared. Oh my. He threw his coat onto a nearby chair and the smirk he gave his date just about made you turn into a puddle. You had to get close to him.

With your mind moving a million miles a minute, you hatched up a plan. Your date was going to ask you if you wanted some punch soon after a couple of well placed coughs. When he left to go get the drinks, you would make your way to George, telling your date you wanted to check in with your friends. Was it wrong to leave this poor boy as you chased another? Maybe if you didn’t know for a fact that Justin had the biggest crush on your friend. Once you got to George, it would be easy to get Fred.

Two coughs and sweet little Justin was playing his part well. He disappeared to get you some punch and you slipped through the crowd, eyes set on Fred. He was dancing now without a care in the world. Head and hips shaking, he was drawing you in. George was a little calmer and it made it much easier to get close to him. You spun around to face away from him and carefully timed your steps to bump into him right on beat. It looked like an accident which is exactly what it needed to look like. Fred and George were smart and you didn’t doubt they would figure your plan out if you slipped up.

“Whoops,” you spun around, feigning surprise as you looked up at George. “Sorry George. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

George only smiled and threw his arm around your shoulder. “Not a problem Y/N. I hope you and Justin are having fun. Where is he anyway?” He looked around, trying to spot your date.

“Oh he just stepped away to get me some punch. What about your date? Are you guys having fun?” You knew he didn’t have a date. For the past week George had been convincing his brothers that it was fine to go without a date. Him and Lee were technically going together but Lee currently was too preoccupied with Alicia Spinnet to dance with George.

“I didn’t come with a date.” What a surprise.

“Well then I guess that just means there’s no one stopping you from dancing with me.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to you as you moved closer to his twin. George only laughed and spun you as the two of you moved. He held your hands and danced; it wasn’t graceful and it followed a rhythm you could only assume was in his head but it was fun. George would be a fantastic brother-in-law one day. The group soon formed a small circle and you squeezed yourself between the twins. A great place to be really. You all grabbed hands and began what could only be called a whirlpool as you began spinning in a circle. As the song transitioned into a slow one, people started to pair off. You took both of Fred’s hands in yours and smiled up at him.

“May I have this dance George?” You knew it was Fred, however if he thought that you thought that he was George and you had just been dancing with George, he was less likely to deny you. Fred furrowed his eyebrows and as he caught sight of Angelina dancing with Alicia, he only shrugged and settled his hand on your waist.

“It’s actually Fred but yes, you may.” He spun you around slowly, carefully watching his feet so he didn’t step on yours.

“I hope I didn’t steal you away from your date.”

“You didn’t.” You most certainly did but she looked like she preferred dancing with Alicia anyway so there was no harm done. “What about your date?”

“Oh Justin? He went off to get some punch but he must have gotten lost or preoccupied.” You shrugged, honestly hoping he was dancing with someone else.

The rest of the dance was quiet, you and Fred only occasionally whispering to each other. When it finally did end, your feet were killing you and you needed to sit before you fell over. Actually, that wasn’t half bad. You parted from Fred and stumbled perhaps a little too dramatically but it did the job. Fred reacted quickly and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you up.

“Whoa there Y/N. You ok?” His sweet brown eyes were full of concern. They were full of concern for you and it made your heart flutter. He carefully took you over to a table and lowered you into a chair.

You nodded, kicking off one shoe. “I’m ok, my feet are just really sore.”

Fred kneeled in front of you and helped you take off the other shoe. “Well, that would be because you’re wearing these death traps.” He chuckled and took your foot in his hand, thumbs digging into them to try and work out some of the ache.

“So, Angelina.”

“So, Justin.” Fred glanced up at you before switching and massaging the other foot.

“Are you two dating?” You wanted Fred and you knew somehow you would get him but if he was taken, you would back off. It would have been horrible to hurt Angelina like that, even if she had your man. You also would have left Fred alone if he showed any discomfort or lack of interest at all but seeing as he was willingly trying to care for your sore feet, you didn’t think he was uncomfortable at all.

“No. If we were, I would not be over here massaging your feet.” Fred smiled and moved into the chair next to you. “What about you and Justin?”

“No, we’re just friends.”

“That’s good because currently he’s over yonder sucking face with some girl.”

You snorted and looked around, spotting him in the corner. Good for him. “It’s a good thing you and Angelina aren’t a couple either because I think her and Alicia have disappeared.” Fred only rolled his eyes and stretched his arms, his shirt rising up and his stomach peaking out. Was it getting hot in here or was it just Fred? You could really do with that punch now. “I think I’m officially done dancing for the night. You worked so hard to make my feet feel better and I would hate to ruin all your hard work.” He would stay with you, at least for a little bit. Fred was loud and honestly obnoxious but he was kind and a gentleman at heart. He would never leave you all by yourself at a dance.

“Would you like some company at the table then?”

“That would be lovely.”

---

The Yule Ball started a strong friendship between you and the twins. For the rest of the year the three of you had become practically inseparable. You loved George but some of your favorite parts of the day were when he was nowhere to be found and it was just you and Fred. Of course you were part of the reason for that, convincing George to run off and pull pranks on his own or see Katie Bell. you spent the rest of your sixth year finding ways to be alone with Fred and trying to find ways to make him like you. You never changed anything about yourself but you did pick up a couple of new hobbies that were certain to get Fred’s attention.

As the year ended and summer began, you wrote letters to the twins as often as you could. Your family was busy on holiday and though it was unknown to you, the twins couldn’t answer much anyway as they stayed in Grimmauld Place with the Order. As school began, so did more of your planning. It was hard avoiding Umbridge especially once her rule about boys and girls being close together was put in place but Fred had never been one to follow rules. You sent him secret messages, asking to meet you late at night in a hidden passage or in empty classrooms. They were innocent meetings, much to your disappointment, as Fred still had not asked you out. At this point you feared he never would. It was time to pull out the big guns. George. He was the big gun.

“George!” You chased after the ginger, shoving your way through the mass of students going about their day. “George Fabian Weasley!” That got him. He whirled around at the sound of his full name and for a second there was some fear in his eyes. When he caught sight of you, he visibly relaxed and waved, waiting for you.

“For a minute I thought my mother made her way into Hogwarts,” he laughed as you approached. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He threw his arm around your shoulder and began walking.

“I actually needed to talk to you about something.” You were only a little worried about telling George your plans to get Fred but despite all of your planning, nothing was working. “Something that would be better discussed in private.” You were confident that somewhere in his heart and brain, Fred liked you just as much as you liked him but nothing was working. You needed help.

George raised an eyebrow but nodded and looked around the busy hallway before taking you over to a witch statue. “Step into my office.” He tapped the back of the witch with his wand and whispered a spell before it opened up into a hidden passage. The two of you slid inside and the opening closed behind you. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

How were you supposed to say it? You didn’t want George thinking you were weird for trying to make Fred like you or ask you out but that’s basically what you were doing. Well, if there was no better way to explain it then might as well just say it how it is. Or just tell a small white lie. “I like Fred and I’m trying to spend some more time with him to see if he feels the same.”

George smiled wide and patted you on the back. “Well that’s great. Personally I would love to see you get together with my twin. Is there a reason you needed to tell me? I can ask him if he feels the same.”

“No, don't ask. I’d rather see if I can figure it out. I could use some help though.”

“Sure, whatever you need.” Thank Merlin for George.

---

The first plan you conspired with George was to leave some of your things around with him and then he would have Fred deliver them. That one was easy and while it did make Fred come see you and start to match different items with you, nothing had changed.

Next step was a little harder and had a greater risk of detention. In your Advanced Potions class one day, you stole a small vial of Amortentia; it was a powerful love potion that was supposed to smell differently to each person who smelled it. You smelled honey, Butterbeer, and gunpowder; basically you smelled Fred each time you caught a whiff of the potion. You weren’t planning on giving it to Fred because making him fall in love with you because of a potion was wrong and it would be the easy way out. You just wanted to know what he smelled and see if it smelled like you.

At breakfast the day after you stole it, you approached the twins. “I need both of you to smell this and tell me what it smells like.” You set the small vial in front of them.

“Is it poison?” Fred mused, grabbing it and swirling the pearlescent potion.

“Sniff it and find out.” You rolled your eyes and took it from him before shoving it under George’s nose. He would go along with it no questions asked. He trusted you and you say this with love but he was a little more dumb in a sense. Both boys were incredibly smart and while Fred was very carefree and did whatever he wanted, he still had the good sense to question things even if they came from someone he knew. George however probably would have drank it if you asked him to. He was a delight.

George took a long sniff and hummed. “It smells nice, kinda like lemons and maybe a campfire and… trees.”

“Trees?” You and Fred both asked at the same time.

“Yeah trees. Don’t look at me like I’m stupid. Trees have a special smell.” George crossed his arms over his chest and turned away from you.

“Whatever you say Tree Boy. Fred?” You held it out to him and with a sigh, he leaned over and smelled it.

“I don’t smell trees at all, even if they do apparently have a special smell. I smell something more like fresh baked bread and vanilla and something I can’t quite place.” Fred shrugged and leaned back, watching you closely. It took a lot of effort to keep your face neutral when all you wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he could place that last smell.

“Great.” You quickly spun around and started to take off when Fred stopped you.

“I know what it is. It smells like your shampoo.” You couldn’t even pretend to be neutral as he said this. A large smile spread across your face and you continued walking away. That lifted a huge weight off of your shoulders. It meant that he at least found you attractive in some way so this wasn’t all a big waste. You would have been pissed if you stole from Snape for no reason.

Now that you knew Fred at least liked you a little, you and George amped it up. He would ask Fred to meet him somewhere and you would conveniently be there as well. Then before Fred could even ask George why he was brought there, George would disappear and leave you alone with Fred.

---

You thought that maybe after all of your hard work Fred would finally ask you out but he didn’t. In fact, he left Hogwarts before graduation. The average person would have given up at this point but you refused. You spent the end of the school year trying to figure out what to do next. It wasn’t until after you graduated and had a job that you came up with another plan.

After graduating, you decided to spend a year working in Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t your dream job but it was a good place and it had a room available right above it. With Death Eaters roaming around it wasn’t as fun as you hoped it would have been but it worked. You had somewhere to live and a job to pay for food. It also turned out to be the perfect spot to continue your quest for Fred Weasley. Right after school Fred and George opened up a joke shop and despite the Death Eaters and general depressing atmosphere, the joke shop was doing extremely well.

During your breaks you wandered Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes mostly hoping for a chance to see either twin but also it was probably the safest place to be. Over the first few weeks you learned his schedule pretty easily. He worked almost all day on the weekend since it was the busiest time at the shop. He worked less on Mondays and Thursdays and every Wednesday he got ice cream on his lunch break. You weren’t stalking him, you swear. If he showed any sign of hating you or not liking how frequently he saw you, then you would have stopped. Something just felt like Fred was the one.

You decided the best place to bump into him would be Wednesday during lunch. It wouldn’t be as creepy if you just so happened to see him out and about, because you aren’t stalking him. One Wednesday, you did just that. The plan was to get him alone and talk to him. You would catch up and you would mention how much you missed seeing him and then he would finally ask you out. You walked from the bookstore to the ice cream shop with your head down and hoped you would run into Fred and not a Death Eater. Only a few feet from the store, you rammed into someone and almost fell over if they hadn’t wrapped their arms around your waist. It had to have been Fred or a very polite Death Eater.

“Y/N?” You looked up to see a shocked Fred holding his ice cream out of harm’s way. “Is that really you? Gosh it's been a while. How are you?”

You smiled at him and took a small step back. “I’m alright. How are you? I see the store is thriving.” You pointed to the bright building across the street and your heart filled with warmth. You were proud of him and George for accomplishing so much.

“Yeah business is great. What about you? What are you doing here?” He looked around the street that was eerily quiet. Diagon Alley used to be bustling with so many people it was hard to walk around but now, it looked like you and Fred were the only two people on the street. “Before you answer that, let’s go talk in my office at the shop. It’s not a good idea to just linger around out here anymore.”

If he didn’t suggest it you would have. Diagon Alley was always a wonderful place to go before school. Going to Diagon Alley was really the start of the school year. You got to buy new books for classes and new robes and quills and ink and everything else. You saw friends you hadn’t seen in a while and heard about their summers. Now the street was empty and businesses were closed down. At the moment only Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was the only store thriving. The bookstore was open for now but it wouldn’t be much longer before it was closed or ransacked too.

Fred led you towards his shop, eyes constantly scanning your surroundings. When you were almost at the store, a trash can knocked over and Fred shoved you behind him and pulled out his wand, pointing it towards the trash can. A small cat scampered out from behind it and while his and your body sagged with relief, your hearts were still pounding a million beats a minute. He quickly ushered you into the store and the difference between the feeling of the outside and the inside almost gave you whiplash.

It was bright and cheery and filled with students all trying to get their hands on new products. Wednesday was supposed to be one of the slower days but it was still packed to the brim. Fred put his hand on the small of your back and took you up a flight of stairs and to the back corner of the shop. Hidden amongst the shelves was a door the office hid behind. It was small with only a desk and three chairs but it was cozy and felt safe. He took a seat behind the desk and you sat opposite him.

“Well, now that we made it here without a scratch, tell me about how you’ve been. I had no idea you were even in the area. A lot of people have left.” He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves and you were taking back to the Yule Ball and the first time you really set your eyes on him.

“I started working at Flourish and Blotts not long after school ended. It’s really just temporary. To be honest I don’t even know how long it will stay open. Everything is shutting down.” It was scary. You didn’t know what would happen at any minute of the day. Honestly you spent so much time watching Fred from afar not because you didn’t have a plan but because just seeing him brought so much comfort and peace. You didn’t know what you would do if that got messed up.

“Why haven’t you come to visit sooner? It would have been great to see you.” Fred smiled and leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.

“Oh well I didn’t know when you were free or how busy you were.” You were lying through your teeth.

“I thought you would have, seeing how you came into the store every day for weeks.” What? You came in on your breaks the first couple of weeks when you moved, that was right but you kept to yourself and you thought you were sneaky. He saw you?

“I did? You know it's been a long time since I first got here and so much has changed.” Your hands were sweating and your heart was racing. What was happening?

“You’re right,” Fred looked out the window, his eyes landing on the destroyed shops that lined the street. “A lot has changed,” he turned back to you, “but you sure haven’t. I mean you’re still trying to move me around like a chess piece. Has it been hard trying to hatch this grand plan to get me? It's been three years, right?”

There was no coming back from this. He knew without a doubt what you had been doing for years and there was no way you could lie or pretend he didn’t. You just hoped he would at least be your friend still after this. You looked down at your lap and tried to keep the tears in as you finally confessed. “Yeah it’s been pretty hard. Fred, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to think I was weird but I just didn’t know what to do. I saw you at the ball and I just had to have you but I had to know what you felt first. Then it just sort of became more of a plan to get you to like me. I understand if you hate me and I promise to leave you alone if you want me to.”

Fred was silent and after a few minutes, you found the will to look up at him. To your utter surprise, Fred was leaning back in his chair and watching you with a smirk. “Darling, I don’t mind at all. It was fun to see how far you would go. Impressive as well.”

Your mouth dropped open as you stared at him. “How long have you known?”

“Since you called me George at the Yule Ball. You always knew which one of us was which but somehow you didn’t as you stole me away from Angelina for a slow dance.” Fred laughed and leaned over the desk, putting his finger under your chin to close your mouth.

You blinked once, twice, three times before smacking his hand away. “You knew the entire time?” You laughed and shook your head. “You knew and you just let me go around thinking I was playing you like a game of chess? You ass!” You burst into a fit of laughter along with Fred.

“Honestly,” Fred began as you both stopped laughing, “I was touched that you thought I was worth all of the hard work. Not as touched that you thought you were pulling the wool over my eyes while using my brother to help you.”

You covered your face with your hands and groaned, sliding down in the chair. “I hate you, Fred Weasley.” You peaked out from behind your hands and found him watching you with an adoring smile. “So you really don’t hate me for all of this?”

“If I hated you and didn’t enjoy this, I would have stopped you as soon as you put that Amortentia under my nose.” He grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face, grasping them tightly in his. “Now that you know that I knew your grand scheme this whole time, how about I treat you to lunch? I’ve been planning this meal for three years.”

“I suppose but under one condition.” You sat up and leaned over the desk. “You have to kiss me. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for three years and I haven't because you let me play this game. I only think it's fair.”

Fred tapped his finger on his chin, humming. “I think I can get behind that.” He stood and cupped your cheek in his hand, bringing his lips down to yours. It was everything you dreamed of. His lips were soft and gentle and he tasted like honey and a hint of Butterbeer. All too soon he pulled away.

“Hey, come back. I never told you I got three years worth from one kiss.” You smirked and he rolled his eyes, moving back in.

“What a mastermind," he mumbled before his lips found yours.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfcition

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thepepsislvt · 4 months

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What if we had another Barto fic because were so starved for his content esp in writing if the reader was like a strawhat that luffy picked up in like skypiea maybe..like a shandorian with the little wings 👀.. just a thought..

I WIN yes i will write more of Barto bc i love him and im glad so many other people love him too!

this one seemed rushed and i apologize i wrote this before my second shift of work :(

Bartolomeo x Winged! Gn Reader

warnings: all fluff, some cursing, mention of doflamingo

you were born on Skypiea and thats all you’ve known

you were always so curious as a child but nobody would tell you what the rest of the world was like

So when you hit your teenage years you decide that one day you're going to leave the floating island

You had wings so you could easily fly away but you couldn't navigate the ocean by yourself

Most nights you would hope and pray that someday, someone would save you.

That's when a certain pirate with a straw hat came and fucked shit up on your island

At the age of 19, you knew this was your getaway, a savior you had spent all of these years praying for

After he won the battle he was fighting you came up to him and his crew as they were about to depart

“Strawhat! You must take me with you! I will prove myself worthy to join your crew-”

“Ok”

“-and I won't take no for an answer! Wait did you say okay? That fast?” you looked at the pirate captain with confusion and shock

All he did was smile and nod

So it was easier than you thought

It didn't take very long to get along with the rest of the crew members

You would give Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy rides through the air

Zoro taught you how to use a sword

Naomi taught you to pickpockets even though you probably won't use that skill

The Entire crew loved you

When Frankly and Brook joined the Straw hats you easily got along with them as well

When you got separated for two years on Sabaody you couldn't have been happier to see them

Your wings had fully grown and you could now use them to their full potential

You guys may have changed a lot physically over the past two years but nothing has changed between your friendship

During the events of Dressrosa, you decided to follow Luffy to the Colosseum to make sure he doesnt give away his identity and draw unwanted attention towards him

While you and Luffy were watching the fight, a certain green haired rooster head had caught your eye

he was hated by the crowd for being vulgar but thats what you liked about him

after his victory in Block B you knew you had to go and greet him

what you were not expecting was him to start crying and saying how much he wasn’t good enough to be in your presence

how can such a scary looking man with the title “Cannibal” fall to his knees over someone like you?

you were flattered by his kind (?) response and had to console him

he asked you to sign your wanted poster he kept

after the defeat of Doflamingo, you hung around Bartolomeo more, falling more and more for him and his wild personality

he had finally accepted that you were actually his friend and took his fanboying down a notch (he still has his moments though)

you had asked him out since you know damn well he wouldnt have the balls to ask you

when you did he just about died on the spot

but y’all had the best time on your date

Sanji and Nami had helped you dress nicely for the event

at the end of the night Barto and you were just star gazing as you told him all about each constellation

Barto knew he had to something he just didnt know how

“you see those six stars up there forming a ‘W’? they call that one the King of Pirates in honor of Gol Roger himself! isnt that cool?” you had explained while pointing to the sky

after you didnt get a response from him you looked over to see if he was alright only to be met with his face close to yours

“Barto? are you alright?” you whispered to him

He just stared into your eyes before kissing your cheek, leaving you flustered and your wings spread out in suprise

“was that okay? should i not have done it?” Bartolomeo started to panic and think of every possible negative outcome before you kissed his lips gently

“more than alright”

he Smiled and started giggling all giddy

“I GOT KISSED BY MY FAVORITE STRAWHAT!!” he yelled out into the sky

you only laughed and kissed him again

#x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #bartolomeo #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo x reader #one piece x gn reader

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magicalbats · 23 days

Text

Kinktober Day 21: Lingerie

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,750

Warnings: Afab!reader, lingerie (male wearing), rimming & anal fingering, oral sex (all male receiving), prostate massage/milking, I don't believe I used any gendered language in this one but if something slipped my radar I apologize

A/N: I know I said I was going to wait until these were all done to start posting them but as I was looking at my progress on the prompt list I decided to just say fuck it, we ball. These probably aren't going to come quite back to back (heh) but there shouldn't be too big a gap between them either. Basically your take away here should be to never trust anything I say lol

⭐

The taverns of Mondstadt are a great place to hide in plain sight as long as you’re a regular. New faces stand out even in a crowd but an old familiar face can easily be overlooked if you play your cards right. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t talk to any other patrons beyond what was strictly necessary. Mind your business. It’s quite easy, really. Anyone can do it, even the Captain of the Cavalry who’s charming smiles and dashing good looks far precede his reputation amongst the knights.

Kaeya, for his part, is exceptionally talented when it comes to such games and that makes the sleight of hand all the easier to pull off. He knows how to keep his cards close to his chest while at the same time showing any curious onlookers exactly what they wanted to see. What they expected. It was a matter of simple misdirection when you got right down to it, but a soundly effective one. He wasn’t one to disappoint a captivated audience if he could help it, after all.

You understood this to be one of many on the gradually growing list of things you liked about him, and it was at least partially what made playing with him so damn fun. Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t get enough of this titillating subterfuge.

“Looks like I win again.”

Consideringly, you glance over the cards he’s set down on the table in a near perfect, fanning arch. It did certainly appear to be a winning play for him which meant another loss for you to tally up on your side. That was fine though. You weren’t exactly betting all your chips on the opening act when you still had the real show to look forward to later. This was just something to kill the time. The true fun would start afterwards and you were sure to come out on top, victorious as well as properly satiated in the end. That, at least, was a certainty rather than a gamble.

“So it seems,” You agree, giving him a quick smile. “You’re having awfully good luck tonight, Captain. You wouldn’t happen to be breaking any rules to stack the odds in your favor, would you?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd suggestion. Like he wasn’t known for doing just that with enough regularity to become a noticeable trend to anyone who knew him beyond a surface level acquaintance. The average citizen wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. Even the knights working directly under him in the Favonious Cavalry would only suspect it but they’d never know for sure and they probably didn’t grasp the full scope of it either. Kaeya was good at playing the role of a harmless philanderer, yes, but unfortunately for him so were you.

As one of the sole members of the specialized intelligence scouts that reported directly to Captain Eula, you were just as adept at reading people and taking on various roles as he was. In many ways you were a glorified spy, often going undercover to infiltrate enemy lines — usually that of treasure hoarders and their ranks. The only real difference between you and him was that covert sting operations were actually in your job description. Kaeya couldn’t say the same, yet that didn’t stop him from taking on many of the same kinds of tasks you would have been assigned. He could have easily given you a real run for your money if he’d wanted to.

You felt relatively certain that, sooner or later, he would have been recruited into the Reconnaissance Company just the same as you if only that unfortunate situation with his adoptive brother hadn’t happened. With a captain's seat empty and needing to be filled, the answer had been an obvious one.

But fate, as they say, weaves itself into the most curious of patterns. It wasn’t really your place to speculate any further than that, though it is hard not to let your mind wander sometimes when there were so many ‘what if’s and ‘could have been’s floating around him.

Thinking the two of you would have made quite the team in another lifetime, you lean forward to brace your elbows on the table. Deliberately casual and unassuming. That was the name of the game while the rest of the tavern went about its business, blissfully unaware and none the wiser to the subtle foreplay being exchanged right in plain sight for anyone to see if they’d just stop long enough to actually look.

Some would have called this risky but you thought it really quite tantalizing for a first course appetizer.

Kaeya does the same, mirroring the motion, except he reaches out to curl his fingers around the humble pile of mora sitting in the center to claim it for himself. As he pulls it over to his side, his open shirt shifts with the movement. You just catch a glimpse of rich red lace when it barely peeks out from behind crisp white cotton and your pulse starts to speed up. It was bold even for him but the heightened chance of discovery only further feeds into your own excitement for what was to come. What it suggested.

“I don’t need to stoop so low as to intentionally rig the game, my friend.” He tells you quietly under all the wordless din of drinking and merrymaking. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so fine tuned to the presence sitting across from you that you may as well have been the only two in the room at that moment. “I’m just lucky enough to be enjoying a nice winning streak this evening, that’s all. To be honest I’m a little hurt you’d lobby such a baseless accusation against me. You know what they say about sore losers …”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it. What’s a little friendly banter between colleagues after all, right?” He chuckles at that, and your smile quickly turns into a grin. “I’ll admit, your ability to turn things around is quite remarkable though. Wasn’t it just last week when you suffered a resounding defeat at my hands playing Eilfern? Now here you are winning at Whist as if you’ve never lost a game in your life and you don’t still owe me from last time.”

The way Kaeya looks at you over the table speaks volumes, but no one on the outside looking in could ever guess at the effect it was having on you by the way he casually shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look like someone with any real investment in the conversation, neither the game nor this ongoing exchange with you. It all appears very lackadaisical and unimportant to him but you weren’t fooled. You knew better than that.

“Oh, you’ll get what you won from me last time. No question about that. Don’t tell me you’re in such dire need that you’re getting desperate for it after only a few days?”

If you were the type, you would’ve been blushing straight up to your ears. “Need I remind you, Captain, that I wouldn’t be amicable to playing these card games with you if I didn’t expect my winnings in a timely fashion.”

“So you are chomping at the bit.” The sound of his laughter is like the soft caress of silk on your skin as he leans forward as if to share a confidential word with you. Either a secret or something important that isn’t meant for any of the other patrons to overhear, but all it does is provide you with another brief glimpse of the lingerie hidden away behind his clothes when his shirt pulls open a bit more at the subtle stretch.

It’s entirely calculated from the motion itself to the way his clothes are too tight in some places and concealingly loose in others. The fur embellishment on his capelet and the long hair that slips forward over his opposite shoulder thoroughly saw to it that no one else besides you would be able to get a good look at the delicate lace pulled taut over his chest. The people sitting nearest to your little corner table might have been able to make out a curious shock of red on the Captain’s otherwise cool toned attire but they’d never be able to tell for sure what it was. Only you were privileged with the knowledge and you subconsciously lick your lips at the tawdry show he was putting on.

This was something of a routine between the two of you at this point. A tradition of sorts. It was impossible to say when it had actually started or where it had escalated to this level of intimate favors exchanged under the guise of gambling wagers but you were immensely glad for it. You won at Eilfern the last time you’d met up and you’d told him you wanted to see him in lingerie. Before that he’d gotten to finger you for what felt like hours, until the sheets were totally soaked underneath you and you’d begged for it; babbling unendingly until he finally fucked you proper and much to your sobbing relief.

Since it looked like he’d won this round, you wondered what he would choose to do to you when next you got together for your little game nights. The thought alone is enough to almost make you squirm in your seat.

“As always you are much too full of yourself, Captain Kaeya. A single night of wins goes straight to your head and further inflates that already oversized ego of yours.”

“Really now, you wound me.” He doesn’t look at all hurt or even very put out as he pulls himself up and leans back into his chair again. Like a perfectly placed prop, his open shirt slides into place to leave only the usual keyhole showing off the coppery brown skin across his pectorals. Not so much as a hint of red in sight anymore. “It was not my intention to leave you wanting and waiting. I’ll pay up, just as we agreed. We can’t have it being said that I don’t keep up my end of a bargain, can we?”

You pin him with a pointed, deliberate look. “I would certainly think you’d care about your reputation enough to do that much.”

Inclining his chin in agreement, Kaeya makes a sweeping gesture toward the back of the tavern. “Then by all means, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet to continue this conversation.”

Suppressing the urge to smile, you move to stand and he follows suit. The way Kaeya unfolds himself from his chair is something noteworthy, all long legs and perfect stately posture. Some men of his height manage to look gangly or uncoordinated but he is decidedly neither of those. It’s like even at rest he’s so thoroughly perfected the performance that it imbues everything he does right down to the most benign.

You can’t help but wonder how you must look standing together as he comes around the table to flank you. He’s left the pile of mora behind, more than enough to cover the tab and a generous tip on top of that. The owner and sole bartender of the establishment is likely the only person who has any real notion of something going on between the two of you but his silence on the matter was effectively guaranteed. To everyone else it likely just looked like a friendly, casual meeting between two knights. That wasn’t so strange, especially not for someone like Kaeya who enjoyed so much popularity amongst the citizenry. He was on good terms with just about everyone.

You, on the other hand, were much more of an unknown to the general populace. It came with the job description. But no one even gives you a second glance now as you make your way towards the back of the establishment where the secondary exit was located in a cramped little alcove. At a glance it would look like you were leaving to go somewhere else and the curiosity of any nosy eavesdroppers would’ve already been safely satisfied by the exchange at the table. Kaeya wouldn’t have suggested taking leave if he’d even so much as suspected someone was paying more attention to the two of you than simple passing interest, and you were likewise certain that it was safe to make your move for much the same reason.

The rear exit you make your way towards is located directly next to the rickety, well used staircase that leads up to the second floor where the rooms for rent were housed. It was both to give traveling merchants and passing tourists an easy way out so they didn’t have to go all the way to the front, and to ensure an easy traffic flow. You’re pleased to find the coast completely clear despite the late hour, and you take a sharp turn to climb the stairs with Kaeya right on your heels. The weight of his presence just behind you is as comforting as it is full of the velveteen promise of what was yet to come. On one hand you knew you could trust him at your back in the platonic colleague sense. But on the other, much more pressing hand, you also knew you could trust him to give you a night to remember. He always did.

Unfortunately for him — or fortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it — you were much more interested in blowing his mind tonight. He’d left you feeling punchdrunk and floating in the ether last time and now it was your turn to get a little payback.

You can hardly contain your excitement as you reach the landing and make your way down the row of doors until you reach the last room sequestered in the far corner. Arrangements had been made earlier in the evening when you’d first arrived, when it was still slow and not likely to raise any eyebrows; and the heavy wooden door swings open with a quick turn of the key given to you by the owner. Kaeya lets you enter first then steps in behind you, pulling it shut and locking it again in quick succession. No one would be interrupting you any time soon, barring any unexpected emergencies cropping up at the worst possible time.

“So,” He says, unfalteringly casual about it as he leans back against the shut door. “Regarding the prize I owe you. I can take a guess, I’m sure, but what exactly did you have in mind with this?”

Quickly spinning around, you step into him and close the distance, your body pressing flush to his in one smooth motion. You, impatient? Never. “You’ve already kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think Captain? Let me see you first and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do with you.”

Bringing your hand up, you reach for one side of his shirt and he tips his chin down, attentively watching as you peel it away. You’re afforded a much better look at the brassiere now, the thin lace of the cup stretched over his broad chest in a way that was not dissimilar to that of your own, although it lacked much of the same weight and fullness. His figure was far from feminine but that didn’t make it look any less appealing in your eyes. The color is especially striking against his rich skin tone which surprises you slightly when you were so used to seeing him in his signature blue. Who would’ve guessed.

You pull your attention back up to his face again, brow quirked in question. “What made you go with red?”

The smirk that tugs at his mouth tells you exactly why. “I’m afraid you never specified a color. I just assumed it was up for me to decide and you didn’t particularly care either way.” He puts his head to the side, looking oh so very smug and pleased with himself. “Why, don’t you like it? And I spent so much time picking this out too.”

Trying and failing to conceal your smile, you lower your gaze back to his chest. You can even see the darker bud of his nipple showing through the delicate lacework and it looks undeniably inviting like this, trapped behind a thin layer of fabric yet still in plain sight. Idly, you reach up to tease it with a featherlight brush of your fingertips. Was this just a small taste of what men felt when they were graced with seeing a woman in alluring lingerie? If so then you were certainly starting to understand the fascination.

“Rather than if I like it or not, I think the better question is how did you feel wearing this under your clothes out there? Did it excite you, Kaeya?”

He subtly shifts against you, reaching for your other hand. You let him take it without a fuss and he rather pointedly directs it to the front of his pants. He makes you cup him, curling your fingers around the bulge there, and your next breath comes in a quick little gasp. It was far from completely filled out but he was getting there fast.

“Is this answer enough for you?”

“Oh my,” You relent, sighing softly when he twitches and grows against your fingers. His pants were already so tight you didn’t think his placket would be able to restrain a full erection if you didn’t get them off him soon, and time was clearly ticking. You’d have to move this along but it’s impossible to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit for his eagerness. “You’re always so cool and composed, Captain. I had no idea you were this bothered. I’d have never guessed you were hiding away such an excitable prick in your trousers. How do you manage to make it look so easy?”

“Plenty of practice.”

It’s his turn to step into you now. He casually walks you back, using his greater size and weight to guide you until you’re distantly aware of the waiting bed sitting stationary just behind you. The room is not a very large one but it serves its purpose perfectly well.

Eager to see the rest of him, you bring your hands together to fumble with his belts and then the fastens on the waist cinching band around his middle. Kaeya shrugs out of his capelet with a quick flick of his hand while you work on buckles and latches, the distant rustle of it hitting the floor sending a quick shiver up your spine. Then his fingers come up to touch the underside of your chin and tip your face towards him. You gladly rock forward, going on your toes to accommodate the height difference and accept the kiss he bends to place on your mouth.

Working together, you get him undressed one layer at a time. His corset is quickly discarded, the flouncy white shirt soon joining it followed by the tighter, clinging black top underneath. He looks so good standing there naked from the waist up, in nothing but a bra that had quite clearly been tailored to fit the broad expanse of his chest's width and the fingerless gloves he chooses to leave on for the time being. So good in fact that you almost allow yourself to get distracted. Side tracked with questions and exploratory hands, eager to map out this new take on familiar territory through your sense of touch. But then he moves to kick off his boots, hands already at the waistband of his slacks to make your own excitement ratchet up another notch, and you promptly forget what you’d wanted to do.

Watching him take his pants off is always entertaining in its own right, because his legs are so long and the material so form fitted it takes a bit of shimmying on his part to get them pulled down. This time is even better than usual though, because more and more of the bottom half to the lingerie is revealed the more he peels them away. You're a little surprised when you first glimpse the top of the garter belt, the same shade of red and just as finely made as the brassiere, but you don’t quite have the presence of mind to pretend to be scandalized by it. Not when it was easily one of the most mouth watering sights you’d ever seen.

Kaeya’s waist was already small even without the corset there to keep it in check and the crimson band hugged around it just makes it look even more gracefully svelte. Decidedly grabbable. You couldn’t wait to do just that, your fingers practically itching for it while he steps out of his pants.

The matching panties were, predictably, much too thin and flimsy to properly contain his cock but they do a valiant job trying. This is the only part of him that looks in any way out of place or disheveled so you had to give credit where it was due to whoever had done the tailoring. His balls were half spilling out of one side and his swelling length was tenting the front of the material enough to pull the whole garment askew. But his confidence remains unshaken and he merely reaches down to try and adjust himself without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it, although it does very little in the way of good.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step forward to touch him. Gently lay your hands along his narrow waist and give it a squeeze to bring his attention up. “Don’t worry about it. You look amazing.”

“Please, I don’t look anywhere near as good as you would in this thing.” He laughs, low and sultry, the sound so edged with silken promise it makes your loins curl in anticipation. “I admit I didn’t really understand why you wanted me to dress up like this at first. That’s usually the sort of request a man makes in this kind of arrangement, no? But it’s actually not so bad, other than …”

Rather pointedly, he tries to nudge his testes back into the underwear but of course it doesn’t work. You share another quiet laugh with him, giving Kaeya a wry grin to accompany the finger you suggestively slip into the waistband of his panties.

“Now you know how we feel when you start making unreasonable demands of us. Unfortunately for you, this kind of underwear isn’t really meant to hold anything in.” You give the material a quick tug and let it go so that it lightly smacks back into his hip. “What you need is something with a little more coverage to really hold you in place, Kaeya. Maybe a waist high pair with mesh so you can still show off that pretty cock of yours.”

“Oh,” He breathes out, evidently liking that idea. “I’ll remember to bring you along the next time I decide to go shopping for panties then.”

You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face as you lean into him, dragging your hands up his sides to palm along his ribcage. His skin is so smooth and creamy, you could get lost in just touching him like this for hours on end if only time and duty would permit it. “Promise?”

“Yes, you little pervert.” He murmurs, his tone growing hushed and thin. “I promise.”

Bending at the waist, he kisses you again. Slow and steady even when your hunger clashes with his and doubles the weighty sexual tension in the room to leave both of you all but trembling with pent up need. You have all night though, and you don’t want to rush it. Especially not when he looked so damn good like this. Tall and lean, appropriately muscular in the places one would expect a knight in his prime to be, and yet delightfully petite in others. Kaeya was not an overly large man by any stretch of the imagination but his innate masculinity was undeniable. Even like this, even wearing the sort of lingerie meant to compliment a woman’s figure, to hug curves and emphasize certain assets, there was an air about him that was all man.

Something as simple as lingerie couldn’t take that away from him and, although it perhaps wasn’t quite what the maker had intended, it was most definitely showing off his assets.

Abruptly you realize he’s reaching for the front of your slacks and you pull back from his mouth, giving his fingers a quick, playful swat. “Hey, now. This is my payout from our bet so that means I get to call the shots, right?”

A soft hum of amusement. The knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that pulls his smirk a little wider. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You should have expected as much from him.

“Of course. Your wish is but my command. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m practically naked and you get to keep all your clothes on, that’s all.”

“Hmm, and yet I don’t think that’s dissuading you by the looks of it.” You murmur, sending his straining cock a slow, pointed glance. Was that a tiny wet stain starting to form, bleeding through the lacy material? He was practically begging for it at this point and you were so very eager to give it to him.

Trailing your sights a little lower, you reach down to tauntingly flick at the dangling garter clasp over his toned thigh. Kaeya’s twitching length eagerly flexes behind the thin barrier that tries its best to contain him at the close proximity of your hand, pushing the material further out from his pelvis. You could probably guess why he’d forgone the hose his garter belt should have hooked to but you were still a bit disappointed at their absence. His legs were so long and lean, firm from years spent atop a horse but densely packed with muscle. He would have looked stunning in them.

“Didn’t have enough time to find yourself a pair of stockings, Captain?”

He issues a low, breathy laugh even as he tries to subtly shift his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to angle his cock towards your hand. You’re quick to pull it away though, uninterested in giving him even that simple satisfaction or folding to his needy little demands just yet. Soon, but not yet.

“I thought about it,” He says, obediently stilling again now that it was clear his bid wasn’t going to work. “But I’m unfortunately not half as well versed in these matters as you seem to be giving me credit for. I wasn’t sure what you would like and, more importantly, I didn’t know what would fit properly. There were so many options to choose from and I’d already made quite enough of a spectacle of myself, don’t you think?”

“Did you go to the shop I told you about?” At his nod, you reach out again. Touch fingertips to the tight muscle running up his thigh and lightly draw your nails across it to make his breath come out in a tiny huff. “Then your secret is safe with them. I’d trust that dressmaker with my very life. I’m certain she would have helped you without any judgment or snide remarks.”

“Dully noted.”

You’re obviously distracting him quite a bit but Kaeya still manages to find the wherewithal to drag his attention slowly down your legs, like he was half remembering, half imagining how they would look without your pants in the way. He doesn’t make an attempt at wrestling control from you though, nor does he start throwing his greater weight around even though he very well could. In truth, he is perfectly compliant and malleable for you like this. Those were the parameters of the game, after all, and if there was one thing Kaeya could be trusted with it was his word.

The agreement at the offset of this arrangement was that the winner took all while the loser paid up in full, no questions asked. You’d initially been wary to agree, anticipating him to stack the odds in his favor just so he could play out whatever pigheaded fantasies that seemed to plague the minds of men, but that had not been the case. Not only was he far more inclined towards soft, drawn out encounters of a rather tender persuasion, he was also perfectly amenable to taking orders too and he never cheated. As far as you could tell he really was just the type of person who craved intimacy with another but could only feel truly comfortable with a set of rules in place to give it structure. Almost like … it was almost like he feared giving too much of himself to a lover. Of saying too much, revealing too much.

Playing it out this way would allow him to step back before things got too serious and he crossed a line he either wouldn’t or couldn’t bring himself to cross, as unwilling as he was unable to take that risk and find out what existed just beyond. It gave him the option of temporary companionship without any of the expectations that came with a traditional coupling. Perhaps it would have been sad had it not been exactly the same for you. Glorified spies weren’t exactly famous for their long life expectancies, you know.

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you slide your hand inward and brush a light touch against the darker skin of his ballsack. His chest rises with a quiet hitch, hard nipples cutting up into the material of the bra as his one visible eye takes on a heavy lidded quality. It’s clear he’d been eagerly awaiting your touch and now that he’s got it a stiff edge starts to creep into his posture.

Smiling up at him, you gently tease the weight of his testes where the skimpy underwear can’t quite seem to keep them contained. “It’s a shame I didn’t wear stockings either today, otherwise I could have given them to you. I mean it, Kaeya. You’d look so good in a nice pair of thigh highs.” Still fondling the silky flesh in your hand, you lean up to swipe a quick tongue over one tightly coiled nipple through flimsy lace. His lashes flutter for a brief moment and then he seems to regain his bearings, looking down at you like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky. Like he would do anything you could possibly ask of him in that moment. “Not to worry though, Captain. We’ll get you sorted out soon enough. For now though …”

You give his balls a gentle, coaxing tug and he obediently shuffles forward half a step. It’s hard not to grin, seeing the kind of power he lets you hold over him in private like this.

“Why don’t you give me a spin and let me see the back?”

An almost affronted sound bursts out of him, as much a throaty laugh as it is a question at where your thoughts were headed. To his credit he doesn’t protest or act embarrassed about it though, and you simply let your hand slip away from his testicles when he moves to turn around.

You’re not particularly surprised to find that the reverse of the garment is just as skimpy as the front. It’s hardly any wonder that such flimsy underwear can’t hold him in place, and you find yourself giggling as you slip a finger into the thin strip of fabric running between the cheeks of his tight little ass. Although hardly practical in terms of everyday wear, this was in many ways exactly what you’d been hoping for.

“I have to be honest, Kaeya. I half expected you to go for something much more modest and reserved than this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you belonged in a brothel rather than on top of a horse leading the cavalry to victory.”

“Hah. Do I really seem the shy type to you?” His response is edged in mirth and something much thicker, something that darkens his usually flirtatious tone. A challenge, you think, and it brings yet another smile to your face.

“No, you don’t. Which is precisely why I think you deserve a reward for not disappointing me.”

He starts to draw breath, already formulating a no doubt witty remark on the tip of his silver tongue, but it audibly catches when you curl your finger inward. Find the tight pucker of his hole and just brush against it. The tension running through his body abruptly doubles and then triples, becoming some almost tangible, vibrating thing. You can feel it bleeding into you through the contact even for as brief as it is, and you lightly rub the pad of that digit over his entrance again. Just testing the waters. Seeing how amenable he was to this type of play before you pushed your luck any further.

Evidentially frozen to the spot, Kaeya just stands there for a long, harrowing beat of uncertainty. You’re sure that’s what it must be. But he manages to recover quickly enough, seems to shake off the surprise gripping his lungs. He hesitates and then gingerly pushes back, surprising you more than just a little bit. You’d teased this part of him in passing before but not like this. Not with the suggestion or the context of true penetration involved.

There’s no denying it’s presence now though and your opposite hand instinctively comes up to hook over his shoulder, both to hold him in place and to gently nudge him down on your fingers again.

“Oh, Kaeya,” You breathe out, flicking over his hole with a light back and forth gesture. Back and forth, back and forth, up and then down. “Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of reward?”

“Even if I’m not, I'm certain you’ll prep me for it, won’t you?”

Cheeky. That’s what he is.

Giving his ass one final, lingering pass of your finger, you withdraw completely to grab a pinching tight handful of one cheek and offer it a quick jostle for good measure. “You’re right about that. Why don’t you be a good boy and get on the bed for me?”

A quick, playful swat to his behind gets him in gear. He slowly turns back around to face you with a quiet, throaty laugh and you glance down as he moves to step past you. Something not unlike delight lights up within your chest at the way his cock eagerly bounces within the confines of his panties, the bleeding wet stain obvious now. It was hard to say what, exactly, he was expecting you to do next but he doesn’t question it. Doesn’t get huffy or roll out the masculine grandstanding. Just obediently steps up to the bed so he can climb on top, somehow still so poised and elegant even while wearing women’s lingerie with his balls hanging out of one side. So much so that it looks almost second nature to him, in a way. Yes, a reward was certainly due. He’d be in for a real treat here in a minute.

Thinking back on the last time you’d fooled around and the absolute dripping mess he’d made of you, you decide that payback is indeed a bitch.

“Like this?” He asks, posing like a tawdry slut on his hands and knees with his firm ass in the air. Some men may have looked ridiculous and laughable trying for sultry like that, but Kaeya somehow manages to pull it off. Between the svelte arch of his back, the way his narrow waist gradually tapers up to broad shoulders and the coquettish way he looks back at you, it’s clearer than ever that he knew how to put on a show. Even the heavy weight of his erection dragging at the paper thin garment trying to hold him in isn’t enough to make him look silly or awkward, and it probably would have made you green with envy had you not known with absolute certainty that your stake on him had already been claimed. This wasn’t a competition.

“Not quite what I had in mind but it’ll do.”

Stepping into the space between his feet where they dangle over the edge, you hook your finger into the red fabric running up his ass and tug it aside. His hole is dark and smooth, not unlike his ballsack in its silken appearance, and ever so slightly raised from your earlier minstrations that had only teased the muscle, not tested it. You’re distantly aware of him tensing up as you bend to get closer, opening your mouth to unfurl your tongue, but you don’t pause long enough to allow him a chance at protest.

The first pass over his entrance makes Kaeya jolt like you’d electrocuted him, a tiny sound of startlement escaping his mouth. The second makes him hiss a soft expletive under his breath, and a third has him huffing out the faintest whimper you’ve ever heard. He shifts on top of the bed then, twisting his upper body to look back at you with his uncovered eye. Even from where you’re busy tonguing his asshole, you can clearly make out the fluster dancing across his face and it fills you with warm, fluttering delight.

“I know you’re in charge here but … you don’t have to do that on my account.”

You come up for a fresh breath, pinning him with a saccharine sweet look. “What, you mean like how even when you don’t have to go down on me you do it anyway? Oh, I know. This is just a warm up though so let me have my fun, okay?”

With a quick wink you swoop back down to press the flat of your tongue against his hole, swirling the wrinkled muscle to lathe it in saliva and encourage it to loosen up. He lets out another huffy breath, sounding like he isn’t quite sure what to do with this yet, how to accept it, but he still makes an attempt to relax into the sensation anyway. Resigned to his fate, evidently. Not that he seemed to find it entirely disagreeable, given the way you can see his toes flexing just at the peripheral of your vision, but you strongly suspected this was a first for him.

Good. The less he expected what was coming the more explosive the final results were sure to be. Considering the mess he’d made of you last time he was going to be lucky if you didn’t turn him inside out before the night was through.

Gripping his cheeks with both hands now and holding them spread apart, you lean into your work with renewed enthusiasm. You’re intentionally sloppy with it, letting yourself freely slobber over his hole and taint to ensure he was thoroughly coated before you moved on. This wasn’t something you wanted to rush anyway, far too keen on savoring the taste of him to do that, but with your greater objective in mind you especially wanted to err on the side of caution. One could never be too wet and lubed up, and you were sure Kaeya was going to agree with that by the time you were finished with him.

And he groans so prettily when you dip your tongue into the center of his pucker, just breaching his body, that you have to do it again. And again. Fucking into him like this makes Kaeya twitch and subtly writhe, his breaths coming quicker and shorter as he weakly rolls his hips back to meet you. That he seems to struggle between thrusting out with his cock or riding your tongue with his ass is decidedly charming in its own right, and it only encourages you to keep going. To lap at him more vigorously, to drool more copiously until it feels vaguely like you’re eating out a particularly juicy cunt. It wasn’t often you managed to truly surprise him so you were happy to take advantage of this opportunity while you had it.

Burying your face as far into his ass as you can, you seal your lips around his twitching entrance and gently suckle. Kaeya pulls in a sharp, vaguely frazzled breath in response but still instinctively arches his back to better present himself to you, plainly offering his hole up to your mouth. It may have been a brand new sensation for him, one he didn’t yet know how to process or brace against, but that clearly doesn’t make it any less physically satisfying and that pleases you a great deal.

The previously tight ring of muscle quickly becomes raised and puffy under your attention but you don’t stop until his whimpering groans have turned pitchy with his growing need. That was exactly how you wanted him. Desperate for stimulation that was a bit more substantial, more meaningful, and you finally pull back with a loud, wet smack of your lips some moments later. A quick glance at the sloppy state of his puckered hole has you grinning from ear to ear, and you give Kaeya another quick swat to his raised behind as you straighten up.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Do you like when I go down on your slutty little ass?”

He quietly seethes, offering you a short lived but no less plaintive shake of his behind. The motion is stiff and halting, like he didn’t want to give in to the urge but couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. But he immediately grows stills again, panting softly to make his shoulders rise and fall with the quickened inhale-exhales of arousal. “Don’t tell me you really plan on holding out on me if I don’t go along with the ‘slut’ routine …?”

“Of course not. You can tell me to stop at any point and we’ll decide where to go from there. That’s one of our rules, isn’t it?” Failing to keep the mischief out of your voice, you reach between his legs to tug the panties aside in the front too. The weight of his balls seems glad to slide free of their lacy prison and his cock practically springs out, so stiff and leaking sticky precum that he hisses quietly in response. You feel resoundingly victorious as you finally wrap your fingers around that straining, aching length and give it a tauntingly halfhearted tug. Even for as minuscule as the friction is, he still weakly keens like it’s the best thing he’s felt in a very long time. “Just look at you. Do you really feel like anything other than a slut right now? Dressed like this and with your ass in the air … be honest, Kaeya.”

The way his cock jumps in your hand and dribbles more beading clear fluid from the tip is answer enough. He could have kept his silence and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you.

But your words hit their intended target straight on, and he gives a wholly unintentional jolt that makes the bed quietly creak. Perhaps embarrassed by his subconscious reaction or unbearably turned on by it, Kaeya groans low in his throat and presses his face into the bedding to muffle his response. “Do you seriously need to ask? You know I do … but you just want to hear me say it, isn’t that right?”

“You got it. Remember all those filthy things you made me say the last time we were together?”

His head suddenly comes up, a disbelieving guffaw punching out of him. “Is that what this is? Revenge?”

“Something like that.” You shrug your shoulders, as innocent as can be when he twists around to look back at you again. “I just like to think that all is fair in love and war, I guess. You started it and now I’m rebalancing the playing field so to speak. That and … I do so enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees, you know.”

Kaeya’s expression turns wry at that but he doesn’t immediately snap back with some cute little remark. Instead he seems to think about it for a quick moment and then, surprising you and delighting you in equal measure, he suddenly smirks like he’s just realized he’s holding a winning hand. “Fine. I’m certainly not opposed to being on the receiving end, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Do your worst. Let’s see if you can make me say it.”

That initial feeling of pleased bewilderment quickly vanishes, replaced by a simmering heat low in your gut as you mirror the look on his face with a sly grin of your own. “Is that how you want to play it? Gonna’ be a little brat for me?”

“Only if you think you can handle it.”

“Smart ass.” Suppressing the urge to laugh, you pull back from him and straighten up with another sound slap across his upturned cheek. “Get on your back for me. Let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.”

“Oooh, I like where this is going.”

It takes everything you have no to roll your eyes at his obvious wheedling while he gets turned over. Clearly he thought he could out maneuver you, somehow, if he just held onto his usual mask of sauve surety for long enough but you were sure you could rip it away from him with relative ease. For better or worse, not many men could keep their wits about them when faced with what you had in mind for him.

Ignoring his pointed, haughty looks of challenge, you take a moment to disrobe down to your underwear so that the both of you were in a similar state of undress. Mainly because it was getting a bit warm in the cramped, stuffy room and also because it would make getting situated together that much smoother.

You finally join him on the bed another moment later and Kaeya keenly watches as you crawl closer, smiling like the cat that ate the canary when you move to kneel between his legs. He was so sure of himself. So confident. That wasn’t going to do him much good in the long run though, and you take a moment to get comfortable before reaching out to palm along his strong calves.

His cock had started to gradually flag in the interim, resting across his lower belly now, but you could tell it was just one caress away from springing right back to life again. All that pent up need to cum was going to be his undoing.

“I’m waiting.” He drawls, idly toying with a long strand of his hair. “After the way you were talking, I expected - -“

Hunching over his pelvis, you lean down to lick a sudden, wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Whatever he’d wanted to say lodges in his throat with a hardly dignified grunt, his uncovered eye widening in obvious surprise as satisfaction lights up within your chest like a smoldering ember. He looked a bit startled, and a lot disarmed. The fact he hadn’t expected that either, that you’d managed to catch him off guard twice now is nothing short of gratifying, and you were ready to bat for three.

Quickly, you swivel your attention back down before he has a chance to find his bearings. Open your mouth to flick at his glans with your tongue where it peeks out from behind the stretch of his foreskin. A strangled sound rises deep in his chest while his cock jumps to immediate attention, flexing up off his stomach for a brief moment before slapping back down with a meaty noise. He fitfully shifts atop the creaking bed and then tucks his chin against his chest to look down at you, his hips arching off the sheets in needy supplication.

It’s a delicious sight to behold; the usually confident and suave Captain of the Cavalry so hot with need it had him antsy under your attention. You decide to take pity on him for the moment and lean down again, catching the flushed head of him between your lips so you can suck on it while you bring a hand around to grip at the base. You make sure to do everything quick and without warning so he doesn’t have a chance to brace himself for it, and he rewards you very handsomely for your efforts.

Kaeya outright grunts like you’ve just sucker punched him, seething through tightly clenched teeth. Twists his balled up fists in the bedding and allows his head to fall back, moaning gruffly up at the ceiling while his stomach dramatically flexes at the abrupt sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock. You greatly enjoyed seeing him like this. Worked up enough for his sensitivity to be heightened but still so unaware of what you were building up to, what you were planning.

It makes it incredibly easy to crowd your other hand close to your face so you can coat the fingers in spit, idly pumping his length in the absence of your tongue and lips. He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel downright devilish as you lean down to take him a third of the way into your mouth again, just short of brushing the back of your throat, and slip your now sticky digits between his legs. At the first tentative touch to his hole Kaeya chokes on another undignified sound but quickly bites it back. Wrestles it under control. You can tell it’s a struggle for him though, and you were more certain than ever that he wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this. It really was a brand new experience for him.

“Don’t tense up,” You murmur, coming off his cock just enough to speak. “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?”

He tries to laugh it off but it doesn’t quite come out sounding very calm or casual. “Trust isn’t the issue. Telling me not to tense up … now that is a tall order.”

“You told me to do my worst.” You lightly remind him.

“And I stand by that.” Drawing a slow, deep breath that makes his hole subtly flex under your fingertips, he releases it with a drawn out exhale. Carefully inches his long legs a little further apart to give you more space, better access, in a clear display of submission and acceptance. “Do it. I’m not going to stop you.”

“That sounds rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Gently, you rub your fingers over his hole again. It was still wet with saliva and puffy from before, the center puckered enough that you could feel the skin start to give way under the slow pass of your ministrations. If you’d planned on using anything much bigger than this you would have needed real lube. He was just too tight and unstretched to accommodate much else without the proper prep. But for a finger or two, this should be fine.

Perhaps sensing your train of thought, he shifts again and peers down at you. His gaze is heavy and distant, and you think he’s probably blushing right up to his ears under the dark complexion of his skin as he carefully curls one leg up to better present his entrance to you. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. If you say it will feel good then I believe you, just … take it slow, okay?”

You weren’t used to seeing him express any kind of doubt or uncertainty like this, and you offer him a warm smile in return. Curl your fingers to find the center of his hole and just prod into it, teasing the slackening muscle with the suggestion. His mouth parts as if to groan or perhaps sigh, but nothing comes out, like he can’t quite find the oxygen to do either. “I will. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax your body into it. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.”

He nods once, clearly distracted by what you were doing with your hand. That was as good a sign as any in your eyes so you give a little push that sinks the tip of the middle digit into him. It wasn’t true penetration yet but it’s enough for you to feel the intense heat of his guts and how the muscle tries to clench at the pressure. Pausing there, you give your finger a careful wriggle to coax his hole into opening up more for you. You can feel him trying to brace against it, to hold himself in check, and his raised leg visibly falters in the air as a result.

Quickly releasing your hold on his length, you reach up to grab his ankle and guide it over your shoulder. He hesitates, almost seems to want to fight it at first and then allows his leg to slide into place with a stiff, almost whiny hiss. He wasn’t used to this, you remind yourself as you give his calf a brief squeeze of reassurance. Kaeya was typically more accustomed to being the instigator, not the one at someone else’s mercy. All of your previous wins had been cashed in with relatively tame asks. You’d sat on his face multiple times now, though you suspected that was as much a treat for him as it was for you. In truth he’d gone down on you more times than you could count and on more than one occasion had even stuffed his thumb into your ass upon request while he took you from behind. The most daring thing you’d asked of him thus far had been to ride him out on the shoreline beaches of Cider Lake in the dead of night and he’d certainly fulfilled that fantasy with star glitter results.

But the current situation saw you firmly in control and it took all the power away from him, leaving his usual cool nothing more than a distant memory. He holds himself so stiffly there on top of the bed that you can see the thick bands of muscle across his chest bulging under the skin, his lean stomach so tensed it almost looks concave from this angle. At the subtle wriggle of your finger Kaeya haltingly twists his upper body against the sheets, leaving them in a wrinkled ruin, but his lower half remains almost stock still. Like he didn’t trust himself to move just yet when he had no idea what was truly coming.

All the better, really. You could take pity on him if you’d wanted but he hadn’t shown any of that restraint the last time when he’d reduced you to a babbling, squirting mess. If you could do the same to him, you’d consider this a resounding victory.

“Relax, Kaeya,” You breathe out, and his cock eagerly flexes up off his stomach again at the cool waft of air. “I promise you’ll like this.”

A small, throaty whimper is the only answer you get but it’s as close to acquiescence as you’re likely to get.

Holding the breath in your lungs, you carefully start to push deeper into him. The resistance of his body is unmistakable but the right amount of pressure applied to the very center of his sphincter soon has you slipping in past that initial barrier. His entire frame shakes with the haggard, threadbare gasp he sucks in before going so completely still you can’t be sure if he’s still breathing or not even as the constricting heat of his guts fully envelops your digit. Gentle yet insistent, you keep going until you can feel the puffed up rim of his asshole pressing against your knuckle. It’s only then that you pause, just letting the simple penetration sink in and for him to adjust to it as you dip your face close to his pelvis again.

“Take a deep breath, good boy. For me?” You murmur, lips brushing over the curve of one testicle.

He immediately draws another quick, flustered exhale; the noise catching in his throat with a low choking sound. His cock springs up with it and strains skyward, lurching so powerfully it smacks against your cheek with a small meaty slap.

You laugh, unable to help it, and that seems to dislodge the tortured groan he’s been valiantly fighting back this entire time. It bursts out of him with a suddenness that would have startled you had you not been fully aware of how enthusiastically his inner sleeve was clenching around you in sporadic pulses. Like he was torn between tensing up or relaxing into it, and the end result all but has him milking himself on your finger.

Heady with that knowledge, you bring your head up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, pulling it in deep. Kaeya lets out a broken little sob, once again twisting in the bedding while his leg uselessly flexes over your shoulder. He’s usually much more in control than this, and you’re exceedingly glad that you chose to do it in this position because it allows you to glance up the length of his pulled taut body and look at his face. His pinched expression is one of ruin and desperation, his fluster as plain as day.

You’d never seen him look quite like that before and you drink it in, committing it all to memory while you flick your tongue over his satiny slit to lick up all the bitter precum leaking out of him. The deep furrow of his brows leaves a small wrinkle between them, further highlighted by the light sheen of sweat starting to form along his skin. His teeth clench tight when he swallows hard, making his jaw powerfully flex, and then his mouth warbles back open again to let loose the faintest, faltering groan you’ve ever heard. He seems to be torn between looking down at you, watching what you were doing, and fixing his hazy attention on the ceiling overhead. It has him fitfully squirming, his knee bumping your arm when it squeezes inward to accompany the deep clench of his innards.

Content to leave it at that and just watch him, you don’t think to proceed any farther. But then he manages to surprise you this time when he finally tucks his chin to his chest and peers down at you with an imploring look so unspeakably needy it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Please,” He breathes out. So hushed and quiet you almost miss it despite the close proximity and the total lack of any other noise, save the distant sounds of the tavern in full swing down below. “Need to cum ...”

Oh.

Suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter, you give his cock one last lingering suck and pull off. It twitches in the absence of your mouth and strains after you, his pelvis needily lifting, but you just pin him with a slow simmering smile to still him again. “Do you now?”

At his terse nod, you draw a deliberate breath that makes his thighs eagerly tense up in anticipation.

“Are you going to say it?”

Kaeya’s thin attempt at laughter bounces off the walls, so transparent it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was trying to bluff. Trying and failing. “You really want to hear me say it that badly?”

“I’d enjoy it but I have no intention of withholding from you if you don’t. It’s just part of the game, that's all. But more importantly,” You pause to give your finger another wriggle inside him, and he outright chokes on the sensation. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you slowly curl that digit upward to feel along his inner wall in search of the tight cluster of nerves that would have him seeing stars. “Let’s find that sweet spot of yours, hm?”

A low, gravelly moan rattles inside his chest as you poke and prod at him, massaging his interior with gentle insistence until you locate the telltale mass nestled just on the other side. It’s no bigger than a walnut but he gives a full bodied shudder the second you put any amount of pressure on it, and your pussy clenches in sympathetic excitement when he stiffens up. His mouth hinging open in surprise as much as deeply felt pleasure, Kaeya issues a half strangled mewl into the statically charged room, noticeably higher in octave than usual and raspy. It sounds heavenly to your ears.

“Aaahhn - -“

“Ooh, there it is. And so sensitive too. I’ve barely even touched it yet and you’re already …”

Gaze dropping, you watch his cock wildly flex as yet more creamy discharge bubbles up out of the slit. It gathers so quickly, and in such a thick concentration, that when you idly press up on his prostate again it flings right off at the sudden jolt of his achingly stiff length. The nearly translucent fluid stands out against his complexion where it splatters on his stomach and you have to make a conscious effort to stop yourself from chasing after it with your tongue. This was somehow even better than you’d imagined it would be.

“Do you like that, Kaeya?”

He tries to speak, croaks out something unintelligible, and has to pause to clear his throat once, twice, before trying again. “Mm’not sure yet but …”

“But?”

“Please do it again.”

You grin from ear to ear, delighting in doing just that but with added pressure this time. Where your first few brushes against that tight little cluster had been soft and coaxing, you now curl the pad of your finger directly into it and massage it with steady strokes. Kaeya reacts like you’d given him a shock of electro, his entire body heaving and locking up in sudden tension that is at complete odds with the way his cock impotently jerks through the air like it’s got a mind of its own now. And he just keeps leaking a near constant stream of sticky precum that seems to bubble up quicker every time you rub against his prostate. It beads and gathers at the tip before dribbling off the next time his length flexes and you aptly watch as it falls, leaving a glistening thread trailing down to his stomach where it lands not far from the first.

It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your own urges in check as you watch him wheeze through it, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and yet unwilling — or unable? — to shy away from what you were doing to him. He certainly could have if he’d wanted to. Kaeya was not only twice your size but double your strength too. If he really deemed it to be too much for him to take anymore, he could have all too easily put a stop to it one way or another.

Instead, he gasps like his soul is actively trying to leave his body and writhes stiffly before — slowly hiking his other leg up to curl it around you. It suddenly feels like your chest is constricting too tight for you to breathe, and it’s only a subconscious reaction that has you nudging your arm down so he can hook his knee over it much the same as the first. You don’t give it any deeper thought than that. You can’t, not when it was as if your brain was flatlining and all you could think to do is accommodate him. If he wanted to do this with his legs in the air like a proper slut then that was what he would have.

And surely no one could fault you for that when it was by far one of the hottest things you’d ever been lucky enough to have a front row seat for. You felt like you were going to explode and your neglected cunt hadn’t even been touched yet.

“Nnghhn, that’s … oh, that’s good. Unexpected but — good.” He sounds incredibly winded, like he’d just returned from running all the way out to Dragonspine and back without taking a break anywhere in between. The damp quality of his skin gives the same impression where it was making some of his dark hair stick to his temple and cheeks in a few spots of gathering perspiration.

Truth be told Kaeya already looked wrecked beyond repair but you wanted to ruin him even more. How could you not when he was so devastatingly gorgeous and all yours for the taking?

“You really like it? You’re such a good boy for me, y’know that. I really wanted you to enjoy this.”

“I am,” He grits out with no shortage of effort, his narrow hips juddering slightly in their elevated position. You’re even more glad for your foresight now because it makes it all the easier for you to adjust the angle of your finger when his pelvis is up off the bed and you attack his prostate with renewed vigor now, earning yourself another tortured moan. “Ohh! Ahn … please. Need to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Kaeya. I’m not going to stop fingering your ass until you do.”

The sound that bursts out of him is downright wounded, guttural and keening. Whiny, almost. He writhes so uncontrollably you can tell he’s getting dangerously close and the excited quiver of his guts only serves to further solidly that impression. You know it’s only a matter of moments now and your pulse skyrockets as he blindly reaches up to squeeze at his own chest through the lacy cups of the bra. His dark nipples cut up into the fabric, as stiff as can be and begging for friction. It’s almost too much for you to bear but you persistently keep going even when your wrist starts to cramp from the constant flexing and the tight angle. If you’d had the time for it you probably would have tried to worm a second finger into the tight heat of his squeezing passage but it was already much too late for that.

His breaths coming in quicker, shorter bursts, Kaeya tips his face down to look at himself. The red lace stretched across his pectorals and around his waist, flimsy panties pulled aside and away from his bobbing cock while he’s got his long legs draped over your shoulders. The sight seems to surprise a faltering groan out of him, and he struggles to keep his eye open and trained on you when his expression pinches tight.

“Burn everything, I’m going to cum. I’m cumming. Yes, yes, yesssss, aghhn, keep fucking my s - slutty ass until I — I - -“

His head suddenly falls back against the bed, viciously seething up at the ceiling while his cock gives its most violent jerk yet. Ropes of thick, milky semen shoot out of the slit in an abrupt eruption that almost manages to catch you off guard. The weight of him pendulously swings with the sheer force of his ejaculation, sending it back towards you just in time for the next pulse to catch you across the chest. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Not even so much as a peep.

Making the impulsive decision to put it to good work anyway, you quickly swoop down and catch the head of him between your lips with mere seconds to spare. The third jet of potent discharge shoots off at the back of your throat and your eyes roll back in fluttering bliss at the same time Kaeya cries out in deeply frazzled distress. The way he clenches, so fervent and tight he feels like a livewire on the brink of snapping, makes it apparent that he hadn’t expected to find himself cumming directly into your mouth. That pleases you a great deal too, especially when it seems to elongate his pleasure. Drags it out with yet another roiling heave that sends more bitter semen squirting down your gullet.

He doesn’t have anything else left to give after that though, and further pressure on his prostate just coaxes out a thin, watery discharge that tastes of potent salt on your tongue. You groan low in your chest at the bitter flavor even as you dutifully swallow it down where it can settle hot and heavy in your gut. Kaeya just hisses like an incensed wildcat at the overstimulation before finally making an attempt to shirk away from it, sensitively curling his lower half inward.

Letting go of him immediately, you watch his cock swing forward with an accompanying thread of glistening spittle stretched between your mouth and the glans. It stays upright for a short beat or two before swooning down towards his stomach when it quickly starts to soften in it’s thoroughly spent state. You give your lips a quick lick to rid them of any lingering spit and turn your attention up at his face, leaving your finger wedged inside for the moment but angled away from that sensitive bundle along his upper wall to give him a moments reprieve.

He’s got his head turned away and hidden behind an arm carelessly tossed over his eyes, still trying to calm his erratic breaths. You give him another minute or two, then reach up with your unoccupied hand to rub over his belly in comforting circles while actively trying to avoid the goopy mess he’s made all over himself. “Are you alright, Captain? Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Yeah.” He barks out a short, mirthless laugh as he stirs, working to unhook his long legs from you with cautiously slow movements. “You can take your panties off and get over here. I think I owe you a little payback of my own after that.”

Your pussy gives a muted throb of excitement, but you don’t immediately jump at the chance to do as he’d asked. Both because you wanted to check in on him first without getting distracted and because you were still lodged inside him up to the knuckle. Suddenly pulling out might come as a shock if he wasn’t ready for it.

“There will be time for that later,” You remind him gently. “I think we should talk about you first. How do you feel?”

Finally moving his arm, Kaeya looks down at you with a sardonically lifted brow. “You can’t be serious. You really need to ask? Just look at exhibit A.” He gestures meaningfully at the sticky discharge splattered across his front, making you take note of the goopy stains on the band of his garter belt for the first time. He certainly had cum a lot, hadn’t he? “Never mind that I just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and it’s going to take me longer than usual to bounce back from it. Need I also remind you that you got me to say what you were fishing for earlier?”

You can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at the memory. “You sure did. I’d almost given up.”

“You know I don’t like to disappoint.” A smirk tugs at his mouth but it quickly vanishes when he tucks his knees upward, opening himself up to you and giving you a picture perfect shot of your finger crammed in his ass up to the hilt. Oh, if only you had a kamera on hand.

“Can you, uh …”

“Of course. Just relax the muscles as much as you can and try not to clench.” With that, you gently start to ease your hand back. Despite your helpful suggestion his interior still tries to cling to you on the way out and Kaeya seethes at the sensation. It doesn’t escape your notice that he actively refuses to look at you during this process but you couldn’t really hold that against him. Some men became cripplingly shy and embarrassed once the heat of the moment has worn off, others got angry at themselves for enjoying it so much.

Kaeya didn’t seem to be either embarrassed or angry though. If anything, he almost struck you as … vulnerable in that moment. Like he was confident enough in his own masculinity, his own ego, not to let something like this rattle him. Rather you’d seen another side of him tonight that you were unfamiliar with and he was — uncertain how you would react?

Could that really be it though?

Curiosity lights up the back of your mind in stunning high definition. You’re already forming the question on the tip of your tongue as your finger pops free and he groans very faintly, wincing at the loss. But youre quick to lean over him before he can turn away onto his side, getting right in his face so he has no choice but to look up at you.

“Kaeya, do you - -“

He abruptly pushes up, catching your lips and silencing you in one fell swoop. You issue a soft sound of surprise against his mouth but he just swallows the sound, kissing you so heatedly you can’t fight being coaxed into the motion. Giving in with a stilted sigh, you half melt into the exchange and kiss him back with your own hunger, your own need reflected in the hard press of your mouth against his.

When he finally pulls away a long moment later, he’s effectively stolen your breath and almost made you forget what you were going to ask. Almost, but not quite.

“You should know by now I’m not so easily distracted.” You pant, pinning him with a mock rueful look.

“Oh trust me, I do. It’s one of the many things I like about you, if I’m being honest.” He murmurs back, his tone low and hushed yet once again colored with silken promise. It almost comes as more of a surprise than the kiss had, how quickly he could rebuild his walls and put the mask back on. At your look of confusion, though, he just offers up a sly little grin. “It wasn’t actually meant to distract you. We can talk about it later. Promise. For right now though, I think the far more pressing matter is seeing if I can make you cum half as hard as I just did. That only seems like a fair exchange, doesn’t it?”

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh out, even as your nipples harden painfully fast against the interior of your bra at the simple suggestion. You wanted to feel his touch there, between your legs, everywhere and all at once. This arrangement was fun and games on the surface but deep inside there was something else brewing, taking hold of you and growing. Would he be as amenable to that as he’d been with this kind of play?

You’re not so sure when his own vulnerability was already such a touchy subject to broach but the way he leans up to press a tender kiss against your lips seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for him too. He was scared. You were scared. Perhaps the two of you could be scared together.

“I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.” He teases, and the resulting warm caress of his breath against your skin makes you shudder. A pleased look crosses Kaeya’s face as he reaches a hand up to palm along your waist, your hip and finally down into the waistband of your underwear so he can possessively smooth it over the curve over your ass. “Stop thinking about it so hard. We’ll sort it out soon enough, once I’ve taken care of that sweet little pussy for you. Surely you wouldn’t rather I leave you high and dry?”

It’s a frustratingly easy question to answer. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought.” Chuckling, he gives you a tight, lingering squeeze that makes your breath catch. “Let’s get these panties off then. I have a few ideas I want to try out on you now that it’s my turn. I wonder how loud I’ll be able to make you scream this time.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #self insert bullshit

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