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lovelybarnes · 3 years

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get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years

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The birth of Lavender Styles

Summary: Y/n gives birth to their new baby girl

warnings/ disclaimers: child birth, breast feeding, disclaimer (ages)

Y/n had noticed her contractions about two hours ago, she was sitting with Forest, playing with his ABC blocks when she noticed it. It was familiar- at least familiar to her two other pregnancies. She wasn't scared, she was calm, she just looked over toward Harry and gave him a small nod. She had already done this twice before, going through a particularly rough birth with her first one so she felt like there was nothing she couldn't do at this point- childbirth wise.

That look was all Harry needed to be well clingy. Ever since he had gotten that look he's been by her side. Her contractions were only lasting around 60 seconds and about 15 minutes apart, but Harry still held her through every single one and praised her for carrying yet another child of theirs, praising her body for being able to grow such beautiful babies. Violet and Forest were a little confused (and scared) as to why their mumma looked like she was in pain or a little frustrated every so often, but they continued to play when she had her little episodes- not wanting to startle her.

About an hour in, Harry had started to get worried, her contractions were getting worse and she was so uncomfortable. “My love, should I call over the midwife? I can see you are so uncomfortable, it hurts to see you like this.” Harry confesses, sitting behind Y/n, legs on either side of her, his hands rubbing her bump up and down. Y/n shakes her head, of course being stubborn. It was her first at-home birth and water birth, it was a bit of an unusual choice but they wanted to try it out before they were (possibly) done having babies. They have always wanted to welcome one of their little ones into the world all while they were still in the confines of their cottage but Y/n was never confident enough to do it.

“No, I'm fine.” she says, trying to verbally sway her husband into believing that she really was okay to wait it out a bit longer. Harry shakes his head, pulling her hair into a bun with a hair tie he had cuffed around his inked wrist for times like this in her pregnancy when she wasn't feeling the best. “Honey, you can't just sit in pain.” Harry sighs, trying to compromise with his very pregnant wife. Y/n nods, her head bowing down while she grips his hands. Harry smiles, kissing her shoulder, “Thank you, now let me call the midwife and doula. You relax, please,” Harry stresses, wiping the sweat that has collected on his own forehead from stressing. He pulls his leg up, preparing to stand up and call the little team they had set for the birth but Y/n stops him, resting her hand on his knee. “What? What is it, honeysuckle?” Harry fastly questions, his phone slipping from his hand and dropping on the couch cushion below him.

“Lets not invite them over just yet. I'm not ready.'' Harry sighs hearing his wife's words, nodding anyway. He just wants her comfortable and happy, he would give her the moon if he could.

“Please lay down then.” her contractions only getting worse from there, Harry eventually calling his mum over to watch the little ones while he deals with his wife. Anne watches over Violet and Forest, entertaining them with their many toys while their parents deal with their apparent stubborn youngest sibling.

Harry sighs, helping his pregnant lover up because she claimed she wanted to take a walk in the garden, look at her flowers, give the animals some love before she won't be able to see them for many days due to her being in with the new baby, also being exhausted, she knows her body is gonna be rundown after this. “You don’t have to do this, sweetpea.” Harry sighs for the millionth time today, helping Y/n up and wrapping an arm around her back. “Oh,” she says, her tone catching Harry's attention. “Hm?” Y/n laughs under her breath, catching his eyes with hers. “Maybe you should call them now.” Harry's browns pinch together, releasing an uneven breath. “Why?”

“Because my water just broke.”

That brings them to where they are now, Y/n and Harry in the birth pool, Harry once again sitting behind her, comforting her through everything. “I know you want to push but you can't, you're only five centimetres dilated. Halfway there!” The midwife says, only making Y/n groan, her head resting back on Harry's shoulder. Harry rests his cheek on the top of her head, he feels for her- he really does, and if he could have carried all three of their little ones he would have, but sadly he can't so he thanks her every day. “I'm so sorry, honey. God, I wish I could do something.” Harry shakily says, his voice quivering the slightest and his bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, but noticeable pout. “I hate that you're in pain.” Harry whimpers, nosing at the top of her head before kissing over it many times.

Y/n turns her head, catching her husband's eyes with hers. Y/n softly laughs when she sees her husband, giving him a peck before she rubs his stubbly cheek. “H, I'm okay. I've done this two other times. Everything is going to be okay.” She comforts Harry, the man nodding and quickly pulling himself together, feeling pathetic for having a little break down while his wife is literally about to give birth, she should be the one nearly crying- not him.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out through his lips roughly, massaging her hips that are sunk under the warm water. Y/n sinks into his touch, her hands on her bump, rubbing over it almost trying to coax her out of there. The doula rubs at y/ns arm smiling, encouraging her and telling her she's doing great- but she isn't paying much attention, she's more focused on the main in her abdomen and wanting her little one out. “Come on already, baby” Y/n stresses, bringing her wet hand up to wipe at the sweat that has beaded at her hairline.

The process continues on slowly, the midwife continuing to check- the progress only being a half of a centimetres. Harry and Y/n both know it's only been a few hours but it's already been a long and hard (and stressful) day, their emotions are all over the place and Y/n and Harry's bodys are both going through it, of course mostly Y/n’s. “She will be here soon, sunshine. Dont stress about it, it's not good for her.” Harry whispers in her ear, holding a lemon printed glass up to her lips, periodically helping her drink a bit of water and letting her eat the ice chips that the midwife allowed her since she wasn't too far gone. She sucks from the straw, pulling away after a bit.

Harry can tell that she is starting to get frustrated, as much as she is trying to conceal it. He knows her like the back of his hand- she might snap soon and start crying and that's the last thing they need. “Hey, do you want the kids in here? Or maybe get in a different position? I know you're not comfortable, I just want you to be okay, honey.” Y/n shakily sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and shrugging.

Y/n is finally pushing. The midwife between her legs, guiding their new bundle of joy out. Harry is behind her, his arms wrapped around her, his lips over her cheeks and shoulders while he cheers her on. Then the doula outside of the birth pool, on her left, calming her and brushing her hair out of her eyes every time it flies out of her bun Harry had pulled up for her. “My god baby, you are doing amazing. Violet and Forest and going to be so excited to see you two.” Y/n breathes heavily as her head falls against his shoulder, smiling weakly at him. He places a kiss on her forehead letting his lips linger. She pushes again, her head lifting up while she tries to push out their little girl, her cheek read and hand squeezing harrys as hard as she can, growing frustrated with herself at how weak she feels, she just wants her out already.

“Dont get frustrated, honey. Everything is okay.” Harry coos into her ear, small tears starting to bead down his face. Y/n focuses on his words, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into her husband and relax for two second before she is in her birth haze again and in blinding pain trying to focus on getting their little one out. “Hey, hey, focus on getting her out. Take a minute to breathe. Everything is okay.” Their doula says, brushing her hair back, Y/n nodding and giving another hard push. “Her head is out!” the midwife announces, Harry smiling and looking down to peek at his baby. He lets out a soft silent sob when he sees her face for the first time, and even though she is covered in goo she is still one of the most gorgeous girls he has ever seen, his wife and Violet being the other ones. Y/ns cheeks are red and tears are running down her face, she's exhausted already and wishing she could push her out quicker.

“Give me a good push!” the midwife urges, making Y/n sob, tired. She gives the best push she can, the midwife maneuvering the shoulders out. Harry caresses her cheek, giving it a peck before the midwife motions for Harry to come down. “Please, comfort her.” Harry says softly to the doula, moving along in the water and meeting the midwife. The midwife directs him on what to do, telling him how to hold the baby and what exactly to do once she is fully out. “Okay, push one more time, sweetpea.” Harry says, looking up at his wife. Y/n nods, pushing one last time while Harry guides the baby out with the assistants of the midwife, their new baby now fully out, crying.

“Oh, she's beautiful, my love.” Harry smiles, holding his baby girl in his arms, cradling her to his bare chest while the midwife prepares to clean her, quickly pulling her from harry and wiping off the goo, washing off the little hair she had and cleaning out her ear, eyes, and mouth, then setting her bad in Harry's arms. “Isn't she just amazing.” Harry smiles, sitting next to his wife, preparing to cut the umbilical cord. He cuts it quickly, making sure it's cut well before kissing over her head. “Welcome to the word Lavender styles” Y/n coos, counting over her fingers and toes after placing a soft kiss on her foot.

The chaos of the house has died down, just the five members now in the house after Anne had spent a while visiting. “She's chunky isn't she?” Y/n weakly smiles, harry chuckling and nodding. Violet sitting between his legs and Forest laying on his mummas lap, the styles family tried, but happier than ever. “I was taken aback when i pulled her out, she's a healthy one.'' Harry smiles, his hand rubbing over his newborn's belly, kissing her chubby cheeks. Y/n smiles, giving her fat thigh a squeeze, “our little Lavender.” she coos, her eyes almost fluttering shut. Harry pouts, running a hand over the top of her head.

“Hey, why dont I make you something you eat, then you can go to sleep.” Y/n smiles, both her hand occupied with lulling Forest to sleep with soft scratches to his back and softly massaging Lavender's chunky thigh. “I've got to feed her.” Y/n reminds, she hast fed her yet- Harry has been a bit of a hog but she didn't mind, she loved seeing him and their babies together. “I'll go make you something sweet pea, you feed her.” Harry smiles, not taking no for an answer because he is already delicately placing her in Y/ns arms and taking Violet along with him to make something yummy.

Harry and Violet come back not too long after, Harry smiling widely as he carries a smoothie bowl with chia seeds, coconut shreds, honey, and berries over the top. Violet smiles the same smile as her daddy, carrying a big cup of water that Y/n is sure Harry made her carry with both hands and walk slowly back. “Is she eating well?” Harry asks, setting the bowl down on the bedside table before taking the cup from Violet, taking her and helping her on the bed. Y/n nods, Harry peeking at Lavender, watching as she opens her big round eyes making him chuckle, kissing her chubby cheeks. Harry sets on the bed softly so he doesn't disrupt the two or cause Y/n any more discomfort.

He collects a spoonful of the thick smoothie on the spoon, holding it to Y/ns mouth. “You're spoon feeding me?” Harry nods, nods verbally answering her because he knows if he does it would only open her up to object it even more. Y/n can't even deny it, she's weak, exhausted, emotionally and physically drained, so she of course opens up her mouth and lets him spoon feed her like he does their children. “Thank you for ever-” Harry shakes his head, instantly shushing her. “Thank you. You gave me my three beautiful children, I can never repay you. I dont know how you do it. I love you.” Harry says, smiling and pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips rest there.

“I love you.”

Hiii!! sorry for any typos!! i checked over it a thousand times so please let me know if there are any and let me know your thoughts!! There are some more blurbs to come from Y/ns pregnancy so look out for that!! there is only one more part is the cottagecore!harry series but i will still write blurbs and whatnot about cottagecore!harry so he will not be forgotten!!! thank you all for reading and supporting me and being so kind!! i love you all sm<3

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 || werewolf!Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: being the sherriff’s department’s crime scene photographer means seeing terrible things. following lee bodecker into the woods means experiencing terrible things.

word count: almost exactly 4k

warnings: smut (noncon but she comes around eventually, if you will), werewolf sex (so...pseudo-bestiality??? but like... not really??), breeding kink, knotting, some a/b/o tropes?, kinda some degradation?, violence, vague-ish description of gore

Something undeniably wicked was lurking in the woods behind Knockemstiff, Ohio. That much was obvious.

It wasn’t your first gig as a crime scene photographer, so you knew what to expect; or, you thought you did. This town was nothing like Toledo, though, in all the worst ways. You’d left the big city in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see another drive-by shooting, another stockbroker who jumped out of his office, another mafia job left out in the street to serve as an example for would-be testifiers. You’d left to escape some of the brutality that the urban environment brought. And to be fair, it wasn’t anything like that, but it wasn’t at all better.

You’d never seen a cut this deep before. You’d never seen a body nearly turned inside out.

“It’s that damn bear,” the officer nearby announced, his words failing to distract you from your task of photographing the bloodied remains. “This happened a couple months ago, body just like this turned up. Thought we shot the damn thing but I guess we got the wrong one.”

“That can’t be right,” you frowned, stepping back and lowering the camera from your face; it looked worse when it wasn’t seen through the viewfinder, it looked more real. “Bears might maul people, but they don’t… eat them.”

“They do if they get hungry enough,” he sighed.

“Do you really believe that?” you pressed.

“I need to.”

The conversation was still echoing in your head as you drove back to the station, which was still bustling despite the day being just about to end.

You stopped by your desk to grab a folder from your top drawer, "FOR SHERIFF" written in big letters on the front. Tucking it under your arm, you navigated through the officers and secretaries mulling about to the back hallway of the station, finding the last door on the left and knocking even though it was already halfway open.

“Good evenin’ little lady,” Sheriff Bodecker greeted with a smile when he looked up at you, “got somethin’ for me?”

“Photos from yesterday,” you explained, stepping inside and setting the folder down on his desk. He opened it and flipped through your shots, nodding slightly.

"Looks good," he praised— gruff and monotone, but praise nonetheless. "I think it's enough to prove who was driving recklessly and who was just driving."

"Think they'll be all right?" you asked, remembering how one of the car crash survivors looked as they were being wheeled into an ambulance.

He sighed a little, setting the folder down. "Seems so, last I heard."

"That's good…" you trailed off, toying with the strap of your camera nervously, studying his face as he looked down at some paperwork in front of him.

You were a career woman, working in a male-dominated profession, and you had so much to prove… but god, if you didn't sometimes fantasize about the Sheriff in ways you knew you shouldn't. In spite of the fact that you were sure he wanted an obedient housewife, and that that was something you could never be, you'd been known to daydream about another life where he wasn't your boss and you weren't so worried about what other people thought and the two of you could be together.

Or, on other occasions, you just wished Knockemstiff was as liberal as Toledo, so you could have a fling with him and not worry about everybody calling you a harlot.

Either way, it could never happen. You worked with him and he worked with you; he was looking to settle down and you were looking to start your life. It was a basic incompatibility. That didn't stop you from letting your gaze linger on his hands, admiring how strong and thick they were. God, you wish he'd just grab you—

"Anything else I can do for ya?" he asked slowly, that deep voice making the question sound just a bit more dirty than he likely meant it.

"No, that'll be all," you decided, giving him a polite nod before you slipped out of his office.

Sometimes, it felt like the only chance you got to really think during the day was when you were alone in your darkroom. The photo development equipment here was significantly more primitive than what the Toledo Police Department had been able to provide, but you didn’t mind; if anything, it brought you back to your roots, when you were just a newbie photographer who wanted to make compelling art, take photos that would end up on magazine covers or beside hard-hitting journalism.

That dream had been dashed quite some time ago, but you really did enjoy your job more often than not. Sure, it came with a lot of gruesome imagery, but at least it was important, and interesting.

You couldn't be sure what time it was— with no windows and no clocks, and with hours always flying by when you were developing film— but the lack of any noise from outside your darkroom made it clear that it was quite late and everyone had left.

It was odd, then, that you did hear a noise from outside the room, like floorboards creaking. You were ready to blame the old building settling until you heard it again.

“...hello?” you asked hesitantly, the sterile echo of your voice only making you just that much more paranoid. “Is someone there? I’m just here developing my film…”

The red lights cast everything in an eerie glow— bright enough to see, but not enough to assuage your fear.

You opened the door to your darkroom slowly, careful not to let too much light in, and peered down the dark, empty halls. An uneasy feeling awakened in your gut and you swallowed nothing before hesitantly stepping out into the dark.

Another creak from around the corner made you turn, walking towards the noise and considering calling out again but suddenly afraid to speak at all.

A man's form appeared in front of you out of nowhere.

“Oh!” you gasped, but you sighed a bit when you recognized the badge glistening on his chest. “Sheriff, shit, you scared me…”

“Sorry, little lady,” he breathed, “didn’t know you were still here…”

“Come in, if I leave this door open too long it’ll let light in,” you explained, pointing to where the street lamp outside shined into the window and ushering him past you into the darkroom.

“What’re you still wearin’ that damn camera for?” he asked, pointing to your hip where it was slung at your side from over your shoulder, making you giggle a little as you shut the door behind the both of you.

“Force of habit. Never know when something worth photographing might take place,” you explained, returning to the tub of ammonium thiosulfate where you were dipping another glossy print.

“If somethin’ worth takin’ a picture of happens while you’re stuck in here, I think you’ll’ve got bigger problems than not having your camera,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” you scoffed. “Let’s hope I never need to take pictures like these—” you tilted your head towards the pictures you’d hung to try— “unexpectedly.” Lee sauntered over to where you’d motioned, pulling one the more developed photos from the clothespins. “That’s the body we found in the woods,” you informed him, “I’m surprised you weren’t called in— it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to see stuff like this,” he shook his head, sighing somberly.

“I can handle it,” you shrugged, “Believe it or not, I saw worse working mob cases.”

“I’m going with ‘not,’” he answered quickly.

He was right not to believe you, and you weren’t sure what to say now that he’d called your bluff.

“What… what perfume are you wearing?”

The question threw you off but you figured no harm could come from answering honestly. “I’m, uh, I’m not…”

He stepped closer, his footsteps soft but audible on the carpeted floor as his form settled behind yours. Your breath caught when his fingers trailed over your arm and he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your head as he breathed in. “You smell good,” he stated plainly, deep voice vibrating in your ears and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Um… thank you…” you answered, hearing your voice waver.

Just when you thought he might make a move (was this already a move?), and just when you thought you might actually reciprocate if he did, he pulled away. “I should… I’m sorry, I oughta— I have work to get done.”

Before you could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, he had already slipped out of the darkroom and back into the hall. Oddly enough, you were sure you heard him start running the second the door was shut. You considered shrugging it off and getting back to work, but the more you thought about it, the more you were worried. Most of all, you wondered if he had seen something in your photographs that gave him a lead on what killed the poor old man.

That possibility needed to be investigated further.

So, you powered down your equipment and left the darkroom, leaving just in time to see the Sheriff stumble out of the back door of the station, seeming to be limping slightly.

Too curious now to stay away, you followed his path and pushed the door open with your weight, seeing him making a mad dash for the nearby treeline.

“No, Lee, the woods—!” you warned, horrified to imagine that he could meet the same fate as the man in your photographs. You weren’t dressed well enough for the weather— already the evening breeze blew against your bare legs and made you shiver— but you forged ahead regardless.

The moon light was just enough to illuminate your path at first, but as the clouds moved and the tree cover grew thicker, squinting just didn’t do enough to help you see. Generally, you weren’t afraid of the dark, but this was different… it was cold, and you were alone; but you didn’t feel quite as alone as you would’ve liked to. You called out for Lee, only hearing the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs on the ground.

At about the same time you considered turning back and using one of the station phones to call some officers for a search, you heard something. A whine, maybe, or a whimper. You weren’t sure what it was; it only just barely sounded human.

“Lee, are you out there?” you called, whipping your head around wildly.

In desperate need of light to navigate your way, you had a moment of insight and reached for the camera slung by your hip. You relieved yourself of the shoulder strap, pointed the camera ahead, and opened up the flash.

CLICK. A brief moment of light gave you at least an idea of where you were standing. It was impossible not to notice how similar it looked to the background of the photos you had just been developing. You realized, then, that you’d worried so much for Lee’s safety in these woods, but hadn’t considered your own.

Lee, at least, had a gun. You just had a camera. Both could shoot, but only one could protect you.

CLICK. You moved in the direction that you remembered as clear. It was even harder to see in the dark after the bright light had burned your eyes slightly, and you longed to reach out ahead to feel out your path yet found yourself too terrified of what you might touch. You could hear the flash charging between shots, you knew well enough by now what it sounded like when the camera was ready to shoot again.

CLICK. Something white reflected back in the distance, so you moved that way, nearly tripping on a root for your trouble.

The cloud over the moon finally blew away, and just barely— finally— your eyes could make out the shape of Lee, leaned against a tree and breathing deep and fast. His back was turned to you, but even then you could see he didn’t look well, his back bending and swelling with each panting breath that grew louder as you stepped closer.

“Oh my god, Sheriff?!” you squawked, sprinting closer. “Are you alright?” you asked loudly, but when you reached out to touch him he spun to look at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.

“Leave,” he growled between panting breaths.

“You… you’re…” you tried to begin, but you were speechless as you tried to imagine what trick of the light could make him look like he was getting taller, like his eyes and face were shifting.

“GO!” he bellowed.

You stumbled back, dropping your camera but too terrified to even hear the bulb shatter as it hit the ground. Your legs couldn’t move right, your eyes couldn’t look away from what you were seeing, and what you were seeing… you couldn’t describe it, couldn’t understand it.

It didn’t look like what scary stories and picture books told you a werewolf was. It didn’t look like an animal; it sure as hell didn’t look like a person. Disturbingly, it still looked a bit like Lee, even though his Sheriff’s uniform was tearing at the seams from his morphing, swelling body. His cries were broken and twisted as his face seemed to be overtaken by teeth— so many teeth— and dark fur.

Ultimately, one last command to "go" was lost to a howl.

You finally managed to get your brain and body on the same page, turning and scrambling to run away, hearing him chase behind you.

He walked on two legs but ran on four, his snarls coming closer and closer as you made a mad dash for the distant light of the police station. Cold wind blew past you as you sprinted, coming to a sudden halt as you tripped and landed on the ground. Leaves crunched under your hands and feet as you tried to stand back up, but he was already above you, tossing you to the ground again and pinning you at your shoulders.

You tried to kick him away once he'd turned you into your back, but it was laughable— pitiful, even. When he curled his lips back to brandish his glistening fangs, growling deeply, you were too stunned to fight. But you could beg.

“Lee, please, please don’t eat me,” you sobbed.

“I didn’t turn to feed,” he informed you, and it almost sounded like Lee, aside from the depth and roughness that shook you to your core. “I turned to mate.”

“No…” you whispered, denial more than rejection— and as you looked down between your body and his where he hovered over you, you choked on your breath at the sight of his cock, erect and reddened and.... for lack of a better word, enormous.

You weren’t excessively familiar with human cocks (not all the rumors about the new girl who moved here from the city were true), but this one seemed different than what you’d seen, most notably in the size but additionally in how you could see it pulsing and throbbing. His teeth were bared as his claw-laden hands grabbed your legs, lifting and spreading them. Your stupid dress just fell away and exposed you easily, like it didn’t even care that he was a monster.

Your panties were already damp, like you didn’t even care that he was a monster.

A deep breath in through his snout-like nose made it clear he was picking up your scent. He grinned and you shuddered.

You’d seen how deep those claw marks could go, so you were surprised when he was delicate enough to tear your clothes off without ripping your skin. The fear that he could or would, though, kept your heart pumping plenty fast— or maybe that was because of his dark blue eyes scanning your nude form hungrily.

He adjusted your hips as he held you with his… paws, one might call them, pulling you closer and bumping his thick, swollen head against your entrance.

"No, you can't—" you stammered, not sure if you meant morally or physically. There was no way that would fit in you, right? There was no way Lee would force himself on you… right?

The noise you made when he pushed into your channel was, ironically, animalistic. His intrusion stretched you wide and filled you deep, and he wasted no time in setting a brutal pace that slammed his rough, strong thighs against the back of your soft ones.

Fear paralyzed you, made you unwilling and unable to fight back. He was all claws and teeth— where could you reach to try to push him away, without the extremely high risk of him just biting your weak little hand off? No, it was better that you just laid there, whimpering and sobbing and trying with all your might not to moan at the feeling of being fucked, hard, in the woods, by a beast.

His tongue on your neck was an odd sensation, another way he forced you to acknowledge that this wasn’t normal— because no human tongue was this long, this thick and hot, nor surrounded by sharp teeth that grazed your jaw and cheek.

“Gonna breed you,” he informed you coldly. It made you squirm beneath him with renewed vigor, desperate not to be filled with the seed of— well, of anyone, but especially not this thing. Could it get you pregnant, were you even biologically compatible? You didn’t want to find out.

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“If you hate it so much then why is your cunt sucking me in so tight?” he whispered gruffly against your ear before licking it, too, with that cursed tongue.

His question was probably rhetorical, but either way you couldn’t answer it— you had no idea why your body was submitting so easily, why your walls welcomed him so eagerly, why your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. Further, you had no idea why you were about to come.

Numbness and sensitivity warred across your body, everything feeling tighter and hotter and heavier until you finally snapped and your body shook and convulsed. His arms reached beneath where your back was arching, and you clutched at his shoulders as your fingers weaved into the fur you found there.

Of course he didn’t stop when you reached your peak, he wouldn’t stop for anything now, so you were forced to take him just as deep and hard as always even as your body went limp and became overwhelmingly sensitive. It was clear, then, that your pleasure was only collateral damage to him; he was using your body for whatever he wanted, to sate his biological drive to impregnate something. Like everything else about this, it was disgusting yet annoyingly arousing.

It's hard to say how long you laid there, limply jolting with each of his thrusts, dripping your arousal onto the cold earth beneath you, moaning weakly as you alternated between pleading for mercy and pleading for more. You watched the clouds blow through the night sky, afraid to look up at his monstrous face, at his pointed ears and shining teeth. Occasionally you glanced down and noted the way your stomach bulged from the size of him; you couldn't look at that anymore because it would either make you sick or make you come again.

You gurgled and choked as you felt his cock swelling inside you— bigger, wider, until your body was stretched beyond its limits.

"Take my knot," he instructed darkly, "my little bitch."

Disturbingly, you realized he probably wasn't calling you that to insult you: it was literal. You were his breeding bitch, a womb to carry his litter, and you whined at the way it made your gut sink in shame.

His noises were more animal-like than ever while he came inside you, thick come all but pouring into you as he panted and growled. Funny thing was, it just didn't stop: he kept coming for so long, giving you so much while the knot kept every drop inside.

You'd never felt so full in your life, of anything, let alone hot come that made you feel warm and sticky and dripping wet.

The knot kept you plugged and showed no signs of going down as he caged your body in, nuzzling into your neck. He could bite you now and end it all, but you weren't afraid of that since he seemed to have found a better purpose for you. His heavy breathing made his back rise and curve above you, his clawed hands pinning your wrists beside your head while he started to lick and nibble at your ear, neck, and collarbone.

You didn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep until you awoke in the wee hours of the morning— that time just before sunrise where there's light but no real color in the sky yet— with Lee asleep on top of you. Regular Lee, that is, naked with no fur whatsoever and a normal cock that had softened inside you.

Okay, maybe "normal" was a strong word considering it was still pretty big and deliciously thick despite not even being hard anymore, but at the very least totally human.

"Lee," you whispered harshly, shaking him to try to wake him up. "Sheriff."

He stirred, and his cock moved inside you; the subtle stimulation on your sore insides made you moan lowly and involuntarily squeeze your walls around him. That got his attention, and you heard his breathing change beside your ear before he groaned a little.

"Mornin'," he greeted, his grin audible in his tone as he sat up slightly and looked down at you. You reached up and brushed your hand over his chest, happy to find a much thinner layer of hair there than last night. "Of all the times I woke up in this forest with no fuckin' idea what happened the night before… this has got to be my favorite."

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked.

"I told you to run… I must've caught you, huh…"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"You know I can't stop, when I'm like that… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," you sighed, "you didn't— it wasn't you."

"But it's my seed in you," he remembered, his words sending a little tingle up your spine.

He must have felt it, must have seen your eyes widen or heard you gasp a little, because he grinned proudly as he looked down at you.

"Oh, you really love it, huh? Love bein' mine…"

His hands held your arms tight as he pinned them down, making you whimper a little while he leaned in to suck on your neck.

"Love bein' bred like a bitch, ain't that right?"

You heard the deep, desperate moan before you even realized it had come from your mouth, his chuckle beside your ear making your heart twist.

"Yeah, I can tell… who knew you were so dirty, little lady? Sweet girl like you shouldn't be gettin' off on being ravaged in the woods by a monster."

"Y-you're not a monster," you protested weakly.

"I eat people," he reminded you, letting go of your hands which you instantly weaved into his hair.

"Well, that's… everybody's got flaws, that's all."

"Yeah? And what's yours?" he teased.

"I've got a crush on my boss," you answered with a grin, "and I came harder than I ever have in my life being fucked by… what are you?"

"The clinical term is lycanthrope."

"Right," you nodded, "that."

"And what would a pretty girl like you have a crush on me for, hm?"

"I dunno," you smiled coyly, running a finger down his chest, "guess I just thought you were cute…"

"Cute?!" he scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah… and sweet… you know, you go around actin' all tough and stuff, but I think you're really just harmless."

He cut you off with a growl as he lightly bit at your neck, holding your arms down again and tightening his grip on your wrists until you yelped and giggled happily. "Oh, honey, you have no idea yet just how monstrous I can really be…"

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #werewolf!lee bodecker #?? how do I tag this lol

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh.

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken.

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it.

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality.

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed.

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies!

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you.

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze.

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone.

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer.

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance.

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards.

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood.

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen.

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you.

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it.

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again.

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor.

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that.

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open.

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood.

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold.

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word.

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent.

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned.

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands.

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy.

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back.

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally.

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two.

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut.

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue.

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy.

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy.

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps.

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor.

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny #kny x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Vampire's Masquerade PT. 2

A Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader Story

Word Count: 14,090 Warnings: NSFW (Smut), Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Past Assault and Abuse

Author's Note: I made a story mixing DC and Skyrim and you're going to like it because that's what I've put on your plate. I've chaptered the story but Tumblrs a bitch and I can't post the entire thing so I'm going to do two parts. But it's still going to take forever to read. Enjoy! :) -Thorne

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***Chapter Six***

He was uncomfortable. He was extremely uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his brothers and father, and yet she looked like she was over the moon as she laughed at another dumb joke Dick told. And he didn’t know what he was more unnerved by, the fact that she’d lied straight through her teeth about what she did for a living like it was the easiest thing in the world, or that his family of “Master Detectives” couldn’t figure out that the twenty-eight-year-old freelance artist was actually a ten-thousand-year-old vampire from another dimension—some detectives they were.

Jason watched as she grabbed the silver fork again and took a bite of the cheese souffle appetizer that Alfred had prepared for dinner. He worried about the contact of silver on her skin. None of the jewelry or silverware in her home was silver, in fact, nothing in her home was silver. It was either bronze or gold. She’d mentioned that prolonged exposure to silver would cause a rash and even if she were older than most vampires, and well-weathered against many of the things that would seriously wound younger ones, he knew it had to be causing discomfort to her.

As she chewed silently, he leaned over, turning his head away so his family couldn’t see his lips moving and whispered, “Is your hand, okay?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth as she swallowed and nodded. “I’m alright,” she replied too-cheerfully for his liking. “Thank you for asking.”

“Is something wrong, (Y/N)?” Dick questioned and they both looked at him.

She smiled and shook her head. “Oh no, I’m alright. I just had a bit of a…womanly pain before I came here earlier.” She sipped her wine. “Jason had some ibuprofen in his glove compartment and gave it to me.” Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his cheekbone, leaving a dark, wine red lip print. “He’s just worried about me.”

While his brothers snickered, Jason glared at his plate, incapable of stopping the crimson spreading over his cheeks. “You’re gonna pay for this later,” he muttered under his breath and she merely smiled in return.

“So, Richard—”

“Please, (Y/N),” he grinned. “Call me Dick.”

“Of course. Jason told me you used to work at the Blüdhaven Police Department. I remember the talent you possessed while working for Haly’s Circus.” Her eyes bore into his and Jason was slightly worried they’d see the auburn behind the green contact lenses. “Did you ever consider a career in gymnastics? I’m sure someone as talented as you could’ve been an Olympic gymnast.”

Dick nodded, setting down his glass of water. “I did compete in some tournaments growing up, but I guess I’ve always had the desire to serve the public. Guess BPD was the closest I could get.”

(Y/N) smiled wholeheartedly at him. “A noble desire, indeed, Dick. I’ve no doubt the family around you is proud of your accomplishments.” His cheeks tinted pink, and he looked down at his plate, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’, and she glanced at Tim.

“Jason’s spoken quite a lot about you as well, Timot—Tim. He says when Bruce isn’t working at Wayne Enterprises, you act as the CEO.”

Tim glanced up from the souffle, cheeks stuffed, and immediately flushed as he swallowed the food in his mouth. “Uh, yes. I do.” He coughed a bit. “It’s, uh, no big deal.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward a bit. “No big deal? That company has so many different branches and subsidiaries! You say no big deal but keeping track of every one is a feat all on its own!” (Y/N) shot him a knowing look and winked. “I bet you’re wicked smart though, hmm? Genius level and you could do it with your eyes closed, can’t you?”

He didn’t say anything, but the small curve of his lips told her all she needed to know, and when she turned her gaze on Damian, he simply rolled his eyes. “Is it my turn for the foolish flattery?” he deadpanned, and Jason gripped the edge of the table.

“Be nice,” he warned darkly and (Y/N) inconspicuously rested her hand on his thigh, squeezing gently.

“I guess you saw through me, huh Damian?” she questioned, and he scoffed, slouching enough in his chair to tell her he was bored.

“Richard isn’t a career cop and Timothy works with Lucius who is the actual CEO.” His evergreen eyes narrowed. “Even you would scrape the barrel for those compliments.”

When Jason’s thigh started tensing, she tightened her grip and smirked. “Rapiers or katanas?”

“Katanas,” he glared. “Cutlasses or scimitars?”

“Cutlass,” (Y/N) replied. “Easier to use in close quarters.”

“Hand to hand mastery?”

“I’d like to say I can hold my own but I’m certain you’d wipe the floor with me,” she teased, and he smirked for a split second then it was gone.

“One last question,” he muttered. “Cats or dogs?”

(Y/N) leaned forward and whispered, “Why limit yourself to just the two?”

For a moment they simply stared at each other, then Damian glanced at Jason. “She’s acceptable.”

“Happy to get your approval,” Jason griped, and she patted his thigh quietly.

“Well, Ifor one am happy to have it,” she finalized, and shifted when Alfred pulled the souffle out of her way and placed down the main course. “Thank you, Mister Alfred.”

He smiled warmly at her. “You’re most welcome, Miss (Y/N).” he placed the other dishes around the table, explaining, “Tonight’s dish is grilled pheasant with a juniper berry and rosemary sauce, accompanied by roasted potatoes and brussels sprouts.”

She watched the others pick up their forks and start eating but her hesitance kept her from it. Juniper wasn’t poisonous to her, but it would weaken her considerably to the effects of fire. She could feel her lungs begin to tighten as she stared at the grilled bird drizzled in the burgundy sauce. All she had to do was pick up her fork and put it in her mouth and smile through it, but she couldn’t manage to do it.

“Never had pheasant before, (Y/N)?”

Her head shot up and she gaped at Bruce who had a knowing look as he cut into it with his knife. “What?” she said, just shy of shocked.

He chuckled. “The first time Alfred made this, I wouldn’t eat it because it smelled funny.” Bruce’s steely blue eyes found hers and he smiled. “I promise it tastes better than it smells.”

(Y/N) gave him a tight smile and nodded. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be awkward.”

“No worries, Miss (Y/N),” Alfred replied. “I would be alright with making you something else, if you wish.”

He started reaching for her plate and her eyes widened as she shook her head. “What? No!” the family stared at her and she felt her cheeks warm. She inhaled and cleared her throat. “Please don’t, Mister Alfred, I’ll eat it.”

(Y/N) cut into it quickly and stuck a piece in her mouth, ignoring the burning sensation rolling over her tongue as she chewed, and down her throat as she swallowed.

She let her eyes widen again and she made a show of gaping at the plate then back to him. “Oh wow! That’s fantastic!” she huffed a laugh an embarrassed laugh. “Of course, I’d be worried about something I never tried.”

Alfred chuckled, as did the others, though Jason knew something was wrong by the way she winced with every bite, but he didn’t voice his concern for fear of letting them know her secret.

***

(Y/N) stifled a yawn behind her hand and he glanced over. “Tired?”

She nodded. “Just a bit, but I’m alright.”

Jason shook his head. “We can go to bed if we want.”

“But the house is—oh you mean stay here?” she questioned, and he nodded. “But I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay here, (Y/N),” Bruce said. “I’d be a horrible father and host if I said get out.”

Laughing, she nodded her head and met Jason’s eyes. “Are you?” He nodded and started pushing back his chair.

“We’re gonna go to bed,” he commented, holding out his hand to her.

She took it and stood to her feet, pushing in her chair behind her, then she looked at his family. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner. It and the conversation were wonderful.” The others smiled and waved, watching as Jason led her out of the dining room and down the hall.

When they were far enough away, he spun around and took her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I need to get to a bathroom. I’m going to be sick.”

Jason nodded and pulled her up the stairs. “My bedroom is on the farthest end of the manor. No one will hear you.” He shot a worried look back at her. “What was it?”

“The juniper sauce,” she groaned, putting the back of her hand to her mouth as her stomach churned uncomfortably. “It weakens my ability to resist fire.” She suddenly stopped, leaning against the wall, and Jason gaped as her skin flushed with red swirls, all the way from her face to her toes.

He wasted no time, immediately picking her up in his arms as he all but sprinted to his bedroom, shoving the door open with his hip. (Y/N) saw the bathroom in the corner of the room and rolled out of his arms, almost gliding to the bathroom—he barely saw her move, like flash steps—in one place one moment in another the next.

She slammed the door behind her, and he closed his bedroom door as he heard the toilet seat shove open, and she began retching. Jason felt terrible as he locked the door and made his way to the bathroom, listening to her. He also felt very disturbed because he’d never heard such violent convulsing.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” he worried. “Can I do anything?”

A low groan followed by another round of vomiting sounded from inside and she grunted, “I’d ask for—ngh—clean blood but…but I just have to—oh Divines—ride out the effect.”

Jason didn’t like that answer. “Give me something to do, doll. I feel horrible.”

“It’s not your—ugh—fault, darling,” she hissed. “Just—just get in bed and wait for me.”

(Y/N) went silent after that and he was still beside himself about her, but at least she wasn’t puking anymore, and Jason heaved a sigh, moving away from the door to sit on the bed, eyes still trained on the bathroom.

***

It was almost three full hours before the bedroom door opened and he shot up, eyes wide but still hazy from sleep. Jason hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep.

(Y/N) thrust a thumb back towards the bathroom. “I borrowed an extra toothbrush and your mouthwash,” she muttered. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He shook his head, holding out his arms and she walked to him, letting him wrap them around her legs as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

“Are you feeling better now?” he questioned, eyebrows pulled in concern and she offered a smile that looked a lot like a grimace.

“I’d prefer to avoid any flames for the time being, but yes, I’m much better now.”

Jason lowered his head. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t know that juniper was poisonous to you.”

This time she did smile as she crawled into his lap, letting him bury his face in her shoulder. “You didn’t know, Jason.”

“I should’ve,” he mumbled, words muffled against her sweater. “I should know by now what’s going to harm you.”

(Y/N) sighed and pulled back, stifling a giggle when he whined from the loss of contact. “Look at me, Jason,” she murmured, and he did albeit shamefully. “I can be harmed by anything that you can be. Gunshots, stab wounds, physical attacks,” she shrugged. “Food is not so much a touchy subject. The things that make me ill are far, few, and in between.”

She placed a hand on his cheek. “It just so happens that juniper is one of those things, but it’s not your fault and neither is it anyone else’s. Things just happen sometimes.”

He took a moment to absorb her words, then he asked quietly, “…Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and something in her eyes made his body flush with desire and she suddenly grinned. “I can show you if you’d like?” Rather than waiting for a response, she slipped off his lap and sunk to her knees in front of him and Jason’s legs automatically spread to accommodate her. She giggled. “I guess you know where this is going, darling?”

“I think and I very much hope it is,” he agreed, heart fluttering, watching with enjoyment as she placed her hands on his thighs and shoved them farther.

“Take your pants off,” she commanded lowly, and Jason was scrambling for his belt buckle, then shimmying out of his jeans. (Y/N) gave an amused hum. “I’ve half a mind to make a joke about how obedient you are.”

“You’re a woman worthy of my obedience, (Y/N),” he replied simply before stripping his shirt staring down at her on her knees for him.

She chuckled and biting at his thigh. “I’m worthy of a lot,” she retorted. “Much more when I was back in my homeland.”

“Did you sit on a throne and rule over the people?” he questioned, grunting when she dug her fingers underneath the seam of his boxers.

(Y/N) leaned up, lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Oh darling, I was the most powerful being alive. There was nothing I didn’t have.” She shoved him back so that he was propped up on his elbows and she pressed kisses to his chest, nipping her way down his body until she got to his groin.

Jason was already hard, and she curled her fingers in his boxers and tugged them down and off when he lifted his hips. She took his length in her hand and gave him a tug, smirking when his hips jumped, a grunt escaping him, then she stilled, and he gaped at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice straining as he barely kept himself from thrusting into her grip.

“Oh, I’m simply waiting for you to tell me what you want.” (Y/N) responded with a pleasant smile and he scowled.

“Isn’t that a little obvious?” he retorted, inhaling when she nipped at his thigh.

“What? You mean the way your cock is standing at attention for me?” she rolled her eyes “I had no idea.”

Jason growled and cocked a leg up, nudging her behind. “I want your mouth, (Y/N).”

“Say please,” she cooed, shifting her hand so she could run her thumb up the thick vein that ran the length of him.

He groaned and briefly shut his eyes as she applied pressure. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Just a little more, darling,” she murmured, nipping the juncture of his thigh and pelvis.

“(Y/N), please, put those pretty lips on my cock and suck me,” he begged, and Jason’s eyes went wide when she obeyed, taking his head in her mouth. “Fuck,” he cursed, expression contorting with pleasure as she dipped her tongue into his slit, her hand starting to move on his length.

She hummed and his back arched as the vibrations went straight through his cock, then she flattened her tongue and took him into her mouth as far as she could.

“Oh shit, (Y/N),” he breathed, and shifted one of his arms, curling his hand around her head. Jason groaned as her jaw went slack and he tugged her, watching her head bob up and down.

Hollowing her cheeks, she pulled back and kept his head in her mouth while her hand slicked up and down his cock.

“(Y/N),” he purred, and she met his teal eyes. “Touch yourself for me, doll.” He let out a moan when he saw her free hand disappear between her thighs. Jason couldn’t see but when he heard her muffled gasp and felt her knees spread, hitting his ankles, he knew she was.

“Are your fingers inside?” he questioned, and she hummed, bobbing her head as she pushed her digits in herself. “Imagining my cock instead?”

Her eyes found his and he saw the desire clouded with irritation—Jason did get cocky when it came to sex. (Y/N) lifted her head and swirled her tongue around the head of his length, sucking sharply and his hips jerked, as he let out a startled moan.

“Right there, doll. Right there.” Jason moved his hand and cupped her cheek, pressing his thumb against his head when it poked the side of her mouth. “I wanna know what lucky bastard you practiced on to get this good,” he praised. “Fuck, your mouth is talented.” She smirked around his cock and tongued his slit again. “I’m gonna come of you keep doing that, doll.”

He immediately realized that was horrible to tell her because with her track record, she would’ve started teasing him, but evidently, she wasn’t in the mood too because she did it again. And again. And again. Until Jason’s hips were rising off the bed and he was whimpering quiet little, “Yes, yes, yeses.”

And the warmth spread across her tongue, bitter, but she groaned and swallowed him, all the while Jason’s eyes were screwed shut, toes curling as the tightness in his gut suddenly snapped.

(Y/N) pulled away when he moaned lowly and he watched her press her cheek to his thigh, staring up at him with glazed eyes as she panted and he reached down, caressing her cheek.

“You did so well, doll. It’s your turn, please.” He pleaded, thumbing her lip and she took it in her mouth, sucking it. Jason’s gut stirred again, and he begged, “Come on your fingers, (Y/N). All over them. Come for me.”

He watched her go still, then shudder with a pitched whine against his leg before she collapsed against him with a heavy breath. They caught their beath, then she rose and climbed onto the bed, lying beside him.

For a moment, they were silent, then he commented, “That was incredible.”

(Y/N) giggled and turned her head, kissing his shoulder. “Tell me about it.”

She sighed, feeling sleep calling to her and he murmured, “Tired?”

“A bit,” she answered. “I might be more resistant to things because of my age, but I definitely notice that I recover slower.” She shimmied out of her pants and sweater before crawling up to the covers.

Jason followed, slipping underneath with her, and he pulled (Y/N) into his arms, lifting the sheet and comforter over them.

“Sleeping it off can’t hurt, huh?”

She snorted halfheartedly, already feeling her eyelids drooping as she propped her head on his shoulder, nose brushing against his neck. “That’s how I’ve dealt with…a lot of my problems.”

He chuckled. “Same here, doll.” Jason kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” (Y/N) murmured, and he felt her breathing even out against his throat moments later.

***Chapter Seven***

The werewolf hadn’t shown up in a month, and while the citizens of Gotham had celebrated by returning to the nightlife, like the idiots they were, Jason and his family knew otherwise that it was still out there, waiting for another hunt. At least, that’s what (Y/N) had told him, and he believed her more than anything though even she herself was concerned about how quiet the nights had become, and he’d gotten more than comfortable patrolling with her following close behind in the shadows, usually invisible to avoid detection.

Jason knew she was using him as bait for the Lycan, waiting for it, to see if it would try attacking him. Had it been anyone other than her, he would’ve said hell no, but he knew (Y/N) was always watching him and his surroundings, and there was no one he trusted more to watch his six than her.

That being said, she wasn’t with him that night, a call from one of the council members had finally come and she’d stayed behind to discuss a course of action, leaving Jason to patrol his portion of the city alone. He was fine alone but (Y/N) insisted that Nevermore come with him just in case; he agreed when she shot him that firm glare and he couldn’t help but cave, sighing when the raven pecked at his helmet, sitting atop his shoulder pads.

***

Jason stood on the ledge of the clocktower, staring out at the large expanse of city before him. Usually, he knew where to start but right now he kept running the “If-I-Were-Blank-Where-Would-I-Hide?” question, wondering where a werewolf would be—it wasn’t in the sewers, they’d checked multiple times.

He sighed just as the sound of boots came behind him and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing Nightwing and Red Robin coming his way. “Hey,” he muttered, going back to the city.

“You’ve been up here for like thirty minutes, Hood. The city isn’t going to patrol itself.” Nightwing commented. “Something on your mind?”

He shrugged. “Trying to think where it’s hiding.”

“The werewolf?” Red Robin questioned, though it sounded rhetorical.

“Yeah,” he replied. “All this city space and one giant beast. You’d think we’d be able to find it.”

“Maybe it got shot with a silver bullet?” Nightwing offered. “Or taken up by animal control?”

Red Robin snickered but Jason merely raised his arm and whistled, waiting while his brothers stared at him like he had three heads.

A low croak sounded above, and they watched as the raven fluttered and perched on his wrist. “Find anything?” he asked it and the bird turned its head and shook it. “Damn,” Jason cursed and fished around in his pocket for a treat. “Keep a lookout would you, bud?” The raven cawed and took off into the night sky once more.

“Was that a crow?” Nightwing asked, blinking in shock and Jason bristled.

“He’s a raven. Name’s Nevermore.”

“Where’d you find a trained raven?” Red Robin quizzed with wonder.

Jason glanced at him. “He’s (Y/N)’s.”

Nightwing’s jaw went slack. “She’s—she’s got a raven?”

“And a wolfdog, two cats, and a Neapolitan Mastiff named Fang.” He looked at his eldest brother. “The little demon-spawn would keel over if he met them.”

“Wait, if Nevermore’s (Y/N)’s raven…and he’s with you…does that mean…?” Red Robin trailed off and Jason nodded.

“Yeah, she figured out pretty quick actually,” he remarked. “She’s a lot more than what she lets on.”

“What? Is she like us?” Nightwing joked, Red Robin cackling along and Jason turned his head.

“(Y/N) outclasses every one of us. Especially Bruce. In every way. And I’m not saying that because I’m her boyfriend. I’m saying it as warrior who knows she’s my better.” It was all he said before diving off the ledge, shouting, “Have fun patrolling your sectors, losers!”

***

It had come out of nowhere during the evening and knocked him out of mid-grapple before he’d even realized what it was. Jason rolled along the rooftop a couple times before he slammed into the barrier with a pained grunt. Gravel scattered across the roof and he looked up, seeing the werewolf hunched over on all fours, saliva dripping from its jowls as it growled, and he felt his stomach clench in fear.

“Ah crap,” he hissed quietly and slowly got to his feet, all the while the beast started edging towards him.

A sharp cry echoed above and stupidly, he looked up to see Nevermore. It was all the time the creature needed, lurching forward with a snarl.

Jason brought his arm up as the werewolf’s clawed hand came down at him. It tore through his brown leather jacket like it was a wet napkin, and he thanked God that (Y/N) had taken it upon herself to reforge most of his body-armor plates because when the creature’s nails raked across his wrist guard, it sparked viciously, but didn’t shear.

He cocked his leg out and hit the beast in the stomach as hard as he could, shouting, “Nevermore! Go get her!”

Another cry sounded above, and Jason prayed that he had the strength to hold out as the Lycan came back his way.

***

She rubbed at her temples and resisted the urge to slam her head into the wall for what seemed like the millionth time. “I know, Alexander,” she griped. “I know what the council designations are. I fucking wrote them. What I want to know is when are you imbeciles going to contact the Lycan Alliance Colony in Virginia so we can figure out who the hell is in Gotham.”

The vampire on the line sighed. It’s not that simple, (Y/N), and you know it.

“Not that sim—Alexander, all you have to do is pick up the fucking phone and contact the chambers. Then you meet and acknowledge the problem and contact the LAC in Virginia. How hard is that?”

It’s time consuming, (Y/N). We’ve already got—

“WE ARE IMMORTAL! WE HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD!” (Y/N) screeched. “I CANNOT KILL THIS WEREWOLF UNTIL THE LCA IS CONTACTED AND INFORMED THEY’VE LOST ONE!” Her blood boiled. “INNOCENT PEOPLE AR BEING MURDERED, ALEXANDER! I CANNOT WAIT FOREVER!” Silence was all she heard for a moment after her tirade.

I will contact Lady Heady and Lord Bartholomew and see what we can fit into our schedules.

(Y/N) bit her tongue so hard it bled and before she could speak, something flapped against her living room window, frantic squawking following. She put the phone down, ignoring the vampire’s calls and opened the window, gaping at Nevermore who was still cawing wildly.

“Nevermore!” she shouted, trying to calm him. “It’s alright! What’s the matter?”

He hopped repeatedly along the window ledge and croaked, pointing his beak back towards where he’d flown and she bent forward, smelling his feathers—its blunt scent invaded her senses and she recoiled with a hiss.

“Where is it?” (Y/N) demanded, deathly quiet.

Nevermore answered her with a squawk and she grabbed the window ledge, her skin turning that dark gargoyle shade as her fingernails grew, scratching the wooden frame, and her eyes glowed a bright crimson.

***

Jason’s back hit the edge of the roof, knocking the wind out of him, and he collapsed into the gravel. He pitched forward, catching himself on his hands while he coughed harshly, blood splattering across the rocks. His left arm had already gone numb from blocking every swipe and his right leg was bleeding in three different places; he was sure he’d broken multiple ribs too; maybe his sternum, but in the grand scheme of things, Jason was lucky the werewolf hadn’t disemboweled him yet.

A growl made his head cock up and his breathing stuttered as the beast came around for another swipe. He tried to climb to his feet, but he couldn’t. He’d wasted way too much stamina blocking and waiting the fight out, and now he had nothing left. His body was too tired to keep moving. He was going to get ripped to shreds all the while mentally aware.

Jason’s eyes went wide as it got within striking distance, and a blur of gray overtook his vision and the most vicious snarl he’d ever heard filled his ears. He watched as the blur suddenly expanded and in the light of the city, he saw the full-bodied, gray wings stretched out before him. He thought it was Bruce at first. The points of the wings were sharp and black, and Jason saw the muscled legs beneath them, just as he looked up and saw the white-haired head snarl again, baring its razor-sharp teeth.

His eyes darted to the werewolf who was coming back to strike. The creature let it come, dodging the arm before it struck back, a single slash with its long, black-clawed hand and the beast recoiled with a cry of pain, bright red blood flowing down its face. The clawed hand dropped something, and Jason gaped as one of the werewolf’s yellow eyeballs bounced; it was quickly squashed into mush by the creature who screeched one last time and the Lycan turned tail and fled, outmatched, and wounded.

When it was clear, the winged being turned and Jason shifted back just a hair as he came face to face with the ashen gray creature. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the facial features, gaunt skin pulled taut over high cheekbones, nose flat and pointed with wide nostrils, brow bone full over its eerie crimson eyes. His gaze lowered to the thin-lipped, open mouth and he stared at the pointed teeth and canines.

“Jason,” it boomed, voice like thunder, and knelt, clawed hands reaching out. He wanted to move away but couldn’t, and when the ice-cold palm touched his cheek and its eyes narrowed in what looked like concern, suddenly he realized.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, and she nodded, placing her other palm to his cheek.

“I got here as soon as Nevermore called,” she replied, then looked down his body. “Divines, Jason. We—I have to get you somewhere safe.” She moved, one arm curling under his legs, the other his back and she lifted him like he weighed nothing.

He let his head rest on the frigid gold metal covering her shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the relief he felt now that he was safe. “Held out as long as I could,” he groaned, and she stepped up onto the ledge before spreading her wings out.

“You did well, darling,” she praised. “I’m proud of you despite my fear.”

Her voice sounded so distorted from its usual one, but Jason wasn’t bothered—this was still (Y/N), just another form. She took off the ledge in the opposite direction of her home and he inhaled sharply when he went weightless, her heavy wings beating around them.

“I have you, Jason. You will not fall,” (Y/N) affirmed. “Rest darling, you will need it.”

Far be it from him to disobey a request like that, especially with how exhausted he was, and the last thing he remembered was comforting beat of her wings, and the soothing timbre of her voice.

***

The sound of calmly running water woke him and when he came to, Jason felt like he was laying on a bed of stone. When he turned his head and looked beside him, he realized he was laying on a bed of stone. With a groan, he pushed himself up and glanced down at his body as the blanket covering him fell down. He was still in his undergarments, but he had no stiches or scars and he wondered if (Y/N) had used her magic to heal him this time.

At the thought of her he looked around, eyes widening at the amazement surrounding him. He sat on a stone bed surrounded by ankle deep water in the middle of what looked like a natural waterfall. Ivy grew along the walls of the cavern and he saw the moon shining on him from a hole in the ceiling. It felt like one of those ethereal places you only ever dreamed of discovering.

Drawing his eyes down, he saw (Y/N) sitting at the end of the stone bed, no longer in her other form, her legs crossed beneath her, eyes closed. Her hands were resting on her knees, palms up and he watched the purple magic swirl between them, like the northern lights, and Jason took a moment to just gaze at her. She looked beautiful. Peacefully beautiful.

He reached for her. “(Y/N).”

Even though his voice was a whisper, her ember eyes snapped open, and the purple spell faded as she breathed, “You’re awake.”

Jason blinked. “I thought you were meditating or something?”

(Y/N) shook her head and inched forward so she could sit next to him. “I was spellcasting while you recovered.”

“What spell?”

“A life detection spell. I wanted to make sure nothing came here while you slept.” She raised a hand and brushed it through his hair before sighing, “Thank the Divines you’re alright. I—I was so scared when I got you here.” Her hand moved to his face, cupping his cheek.

Jason reached up and cradled her hand to his face. “Did something happen?”

“You had already slipped unconscious, and I was worried you were losing too much blood internally.” Her thumb twitched against his skin. “I pooled all my magic into my Restoration spells and healed you for the better part of two hours.” She gazed at him. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

He shook his head. “Nowhere, (Y/N). I feel great, in fact. Like I’ve lost aches I didn’t know I had.”

She returned his quip with a halfhearted smile. “Yes, that’s the power of Restoration healing.”

“But you don’t seem very happy about that.” He commented and she shook her head.

“You were almost murdered because I wasn’t with you and the werewolf got away.”

Jason wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her to him, laying back on the stone bed. She laid her cheek against his bare chest, her hand flat against his heart. “(Y/N), you got there in time. That’s all that matters to me,” he murmured as he rubbed her back.

“But you were hurt.”

“You healed me.”

“The werewolf still got away.”

“Then we’ll find it again,” he countered and propped his arm behind his head, gazing at her. “You scratched it’s eyeball out and it bled. There’s DNA on that rooftop we can use to track it with.” He smiled. “For someone who hasn’t done this in a while, you proved you’ve still got it.”

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, but she cracked a smile. “Thank you, Jason.”

He hummed. “Always, doll.” He kneaded his fingers into her flesh, asking, “Did you learn anything when you were fighting it?”

“I did,” she said. “I’m falling on intuition here, but I think it’s feral.”

“Feral? Like wild?” Jason made a face. “They are wild werewolves?”

(Y/N) snorted. “Indeed, there are.” She propped her chin on his chest and looked at him. “Vampirism and Lycanthropy are quite different when it comes to actually being the creature you become. Vampires completely transform—we’re no longer humans. But werewolves are still humans, they just have the wolf spirit inside.”

“So what? They call on the spirit to transform?”

“Mhm. When you take on the wolf form for the first time you call on the wolf spirit, but some can’t separate the animal from themselves and eventually go feral. Trapped. Lost forever.”

His eyes narrowed like he was figuring something out. “Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”

(Y/N) nodded. “At the time that I accepted the gift of vampirism, I was a werewolf, but Harkon’s blood purged it from my body.”

“The way you talk about him makes him seem like some overlord who was in power because he was the greatest vampire. Was he like a pureblood or something?”

She shook her head. “No. Harkon wasn’t a pureblood, but he did get his vampirism straight from Molag Bal and not another vampire like the ones in his court.”

Jason’s brows furrowed. “Who the hell is Molag Bal?”

Her mouth opened, then it snapped shut and she tipped her head side to side. “Okay, this won’t make sense unless I explain it completely.” He gestured for her to continue. “So, in my realm there are two types of deities which we worship. The first are called Aedra, which roughly translates to ‘our ancestors’, and they are essentially the Gods that created the lands and everything. In the most common pantheon, there are eight Aedra: Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Kynareth, Mara, Stendarr, and Zenithar. Each correlate with some type of virtue: beauty, love, time, fortune, fortitude, you get the point.”

(Y/N) took a breath. “The second kind of deity are called Daedra and that translates to ‘not our ancestors’. They’re typically viewed as evil and worshiping them out in public is not a good idea. Daedra worshipers are very secretive about their beliefs for fear of persecution. I have witnessed it firsthand,” She admitted. “There are seventeen Daedric deities and they are: Azura, Boethiah, Clavicus Vile, Hermaeus Mora, Hircine, Jyggalag, Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Mephala, Meridia, Molag Bal, Namira, Nocturnal, Peryite, Sanguine, Sheogorath, and Vaermina.”

“Who did you worship out of both?”

“When it came to Aedra, I really only followed one deity and that was Akatosh. I was—am blessed with great power and called, ‘Dragonborn’. My body is normal, but my soul is that of a dragon. I can speak their tongue and do lots of other weird shit I’ll tell you later. But Akatosh divinely gifted me the soul and blood of a dragon so I hold him in reverence.”

“Is that why you always say ‘Divines’?” he questioned, and she nodded. “That explains a lot.”

(Y/N) snorted. “When it came to the Daedra however, it’s hard to exist in my realm and not at some point interact with them. They like messing with people, it’s…their nature to change things.” She tipped her head. “I’ve talked to them all, met four in person. I personally reverenced Azura, Meridia, Nocturnal, Sanguine, and sometimes Sheogorath, but honestly that fucker is balls to the walls crazy.”

Jason chuckled. “Sounds like he’d fit right in with Gotham.”

“Oh, he would, absolutely,” she agreed. “But, to answer your original question, Molag Bal is a Daedric Prince who is revered as the Lord of Domination and Enslavement. He is also the father of all vampires, though the first woman was…not a willing participant of the process.” He fell silent at her words. “He raped her and left her for dead. Legend has it that he shed one drop of blood on her brow and when a tribe found her, they tried to heal her, but she appeared to have died. They made her a funeral pyre and lit it.”

(Y/N) frowned. “She walked out of the flames as the first pureblooded vampire and in a fit of rage, slaughtered the nomads, ripping the women’s throats out, feasting on the children’s eyeballs, and raping the men.” Her voice quieted. “She became known as the first ‘Daughter of Coldharbour’.”

Her eyes found Jason’s and she could see the horror and revulsion within them; she didn’t blame him. “She is where vampirism descends from in my lands, unless Molag Bal grants it instead.”

Jason took a long moment to speak, and when he did, his voice was almost a whisper. “You said she was the first? Were…were there more?”

(Y/N) nodded. “A tradition grew amongst his worshippers where on his invocation day, the females of the cults would be offered to him. The women lucky enough to survive emerge as pureblood vampires and henceforth referred to as ‘Daughters of Coldharbour.” Her eyes darkened. “My friend, Serana, who was Harkon’s daughter…was one. As was her mother. They both were a part of the ceremony.”

“They did so willingly?”

She couldn’t help but shrug. “They were his followers and being selected to participate in the ritual was held in great honor and not something that was rejected lightly. Knowing Harkon…Serana and her mom didn’t have a choice but to accept it. Though Serana told me all I needed to know about the ceremony. It was degrading and agonizing, and she didn’t want to revisit it.”

They fell silent and Jason mulled a question on his tongue that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask or not until she whispered, “You can ask me whatever it is you wish to, Jason.”

His hand tightened on her back. “Did you…are you a…”

“A Daughter of Coldharbour?” he nodded, and she shook her head. “No. Even if Molag Bal had ever personally requested my presence I would never accept.” Her eyes darkened with a hatred so cold, Jason almost shivered. “If Daedric Princes could be killed, I’d’ve stomped into his domain and slaughtered him for everyone he’s hurt.”

(Y/N) stared into his eyes. “Are you relieved I’m not one?”

Jason’s expression filled with agony. “No, it’s…the thought that you could’ve endured such an event just…makes me—it makes me—”

She cut him off by leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I know,” she murmured. “I know Jason…and thank you.”

Pulling away enough to gaze at her, he breathed, “I love you, (Y/N). More than you will ever know.”

“I love you most,” she promised, resting her head back on his chest. “Rest, darling. We can both still rest until the morning.”

***Chapter Eight***

Jason hadn’t spoken to Bruce about the incident with the werewolf, knowing that it would also involve (Y/N)’s secret too. Instead, they both started their own tracking of the Lycan in addition to the normal route patrolling. Apparently as well, in her haste to get to him that night, she’d grabbed a bottle of wolfsbane too and applied it to her claws. Its healing capabilities would be slowed down considerably, and she’d assured Jason that the wound she’d given it would take at least a month of healing meaning they’d have some time to do more tracking.

It also happened that the monthlong wait fell in time with Bruce’s annual Wayne Charity Gala, and while Jason had been planning on inviting (Y/N) to it, the continual pestering from his brothers almost made him keep his mouth shut and skip it entirely. They were just as captivated by her as he was—he wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but the night was young, and (Y/N)’d yet to arrive.

***

He sipped the golden champagne from his chute and ignored the urge to cold cock Dick who was practically stuck to his side.

“C’mon, Jason!” he whined. “Please tell me you invited (Y/N)!”

Following the crowd silently, he waited patiently for her head to pop in the crowd.

“Richard, you are embarrassing yourself and the family,” Damian muttered. “Todd invited her. Relax.”

“Or he didn’t because we scared her off,” Tim remarked, grinning when Jason’s gaze narrowed at the statement.

Of course, that set Dick off again and after the fifth whine, Jason reached over and gripped his eldest brother’s bowtie, crumpling it and his collar in a white-knuckle grab as he hissed, “For the last time, she’s coming. Now quit fucking badgering me and go do something useful with your useless self before I lose my goddamn patience and shove this chute up yours.”

Dick choked slightly, grinning, “Think that’ll fit up my chute?” His brothers snickered and Jason glared and let him go. He straightened out his collar and bowtie. “Just making sure you did, Little-wing.”

“Why?” Jason quizzed, exasperation evident in his tone as he glared at him. “Last time I checked, (Y/N)’s my girlfriend.”

“Well yeah,” Dick started, glancing around the room. “But we’ve only seen her that once and you haven’t brought…her…” he trailed off, jaw slacking, and he slapped the back of his hand against Jason’s chest. “Jason,” Dick breathed. “Look.”

Jason followed his brother’s gaze to the main entrance of the event and suddenly, his brother’s odd mood shift made sense because he too went slack jawed as (Y/N) stepped into the ballroom, head high and shoulders squared like she the main event herself.

(Y/N) wore a strapless gown that looked like she pulled it straight out of Gone With The Wind, red fabric and black laced up to her chest where it split across and around her arms. There were little gold chains dangling from the arm cuffs and she wore elbow length black silk gloves.

He trailed his eyes up her bare collarbones to her face and neck where she had a black velvet choker wrapped tight around her neck, a garnet the size of his pinky resting in a gold plate, dangling off it. Her lips were a deep wine red, and her eyelids were painted elegantly with black and gold eyeshadow, topped off with perfectly drawn eyeliner and dramatic eyelashes.

Everyone in the room was spellbound by her and Jason’s feet were moving before he knew what was happening, heading straight to her. She saw him coming and her dark lips split into a pearly white smile, making his knees go weak and he almost fell at her feet. Not that that seemed like a terrible idea because from the glares of the women and the hot-eyed stares from the men around, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to drop to his knees and worship her. Something tight pooled in his gut at the thought.

(Y/N) held out her hand and watched with amusement as he took it and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Good boy,” she murmured, and he felt that tightness again as he pulled away.

“(Y/N), you look…” he shook his head, unable to find the words.

“Beautiful?” she offered, and Jason swallowed.

“That and everything more,” he whispered, and she laughed, sending shivers down his spine.

“I’d love to hear them all, darling.” She stepped towards him and grazed his cheek with the back of her hand before sealing his lips in a kiss that had his whole body flushing as gasps echoed around them. But he didn’t give a damn—he was too busy being seduced by the woman in front of him.

(Y/N) pulled away and smirked at the look on his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to speak, Jason.”

He chuckled and held his arm out for her to take. “Not just yet, doll. But something tells me I will tonight.”

“Count on it,” she winked and rested her palm on his wrist, allowing him to escort her around.

“Everyone is staring at you,” he murmured as they walked towards his family. “I think it’s the dress.”

She didn’t make the show of glancing down, but she hummed. “You said formal, and this was as formal as I have.”

“Really? A corset and a period gown?”

“Don’t act like it doesn’t make you want to bend me over a table, darling. I saw your eyes when you gaped at me,” she retorted with a smile and he huffed.

“You saw that?”

“The way you lost all control of your facial features and body? Oh yes. I saw it all.”

Jason grunted though a smile was on his face as they met his family. “Mock my attraction to you at your own peril, (Y/N),” he threatened lowly, and she giggled.

“Oh, I tremblewith fear, darling,” she murmured, then lifted her hand for Bruce to take. “Bruce, it’s a pleasure to see you again. You look wonderful tonight.”

He chuckled and kissed her hand. “And you look radiant, (Y/N). I think you outshine us all.”

Her laugh was like tinkling chimes and she smiled at Dick who took her hand and kissed it too before tugging her forward just a bit. “Would you care to dance, (Y/N)?” he asked. “Someone as elegantly dressed as you must obviously know how to waltz as well.”

She shot a look at Jason who appeared to be fuming and if looks could’ve killed, Dick would’ve been dead and buried. “I’d love to dance, Dick,” she replied, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

“You look absolutely beautiful, (Y/N),” he flirted. “And all I’m really doing right now is seeing how pissed I can make Jason, so if you’d smile or laugh and play along, I’d love you forever and ever.”

(Y/N) giggled and he twirled them. “You are going to get punched in the face, you know that right?”

Dick smirked and leaned close into her ear. “Yeah, but it’s going to be so worth it.” He spun them again, so she was looking over his shoulder. “Look at him. He’s so jealous he’s practically spitting like an angry bull.”

She inconspicuously glanced in her lover’s direction and gave a rather unladylike snort at the sight. Jason stood beside Bruce with his fists clenched, jaw tight and she could see him grinding his teeth as his eyes narrowed on them.

“Hmm…I wonder who he’s going to be more upset with? Me or you?”

They glanced at each other and she said “Me” while Dick said “You”, then they both dissolved into laughter and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder to muffle her giggles.

As the song ended, they separated and Dick bowed while she curtsied and someone came up and said, “Pardon me, may I have this dance?”

Just as (Y/N) turned to excuse herself, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her backwards and she let out a quiet gasp as her back collided with someone’s equally strong chest. Turning her head, she saw Jason glaring daggers at both Dick and the new dancer.

“Fuck. Off.” he spat, and he watched the two scatter like they’d been shot.

“Darling,” (Y/N) purred, raising her hand to caress his jaw. “Don’t be so green.” Jason’s turquoise eyes lowered to hers and her stomach fluttered from the heated stare.

“I don’t want any other man touching you,” he growled, and she smirked.

“Trying to say I belong to you?”

His arm tightened around her waist. “Like I do to you.”

(Y/N) merely gazed at him before extending her arm across his chest, raising the other beside her breasts, whispering, “Tell me you have a song just for us, darling?”

Jason’s arm shifted to her hip as his free one took her hand in his larger one, giving her a heated stare. “Of course I do, doll. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

The music started and he took the first step, leading her and she barely managed to contain her startled laugh. “The Vampire Masquerade? Really, Jason?”

His lips brushed her ear as he pressed just behind and he murmured, “It’s fitting, don’t you think?” he spun her out and pulled her back, wrapping his arm around her waist as she placed hers on his shoulder.

“Fitting indeed,” she flirted. “But awfully bold to play in front of all these people.”

Jason stepped forwards and her backwards and as they danced, he said, “I like to think I’m bold about the woman I love.”

It felt like hours in just mere moments when the music began to pick up again, signaling the climax of the song and he inhaled deeply as her eyes narrowed in amusement, and suddenly they were twirling, each spin moving them faster and faster across the dancefloor. All eyes were on them, but they simply gazed into each other’s eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about something, (Y/N),” he said lowly.

She nodded. “Go on.”

“It’s about vampirism and…the idea of joining you.”

(Y/N)’s footing failed her, and she stumbled as the song ended on the final note of the cello, her eyes wide. “What?”

Jason glanced at the party then behind him towards the door leading down the steps to the garden. He turned and pulled her along, through the crowd and into the night. They hurried through the maze of bushes and ended up beneath a willow tree in the far corner of the grounds, the moon and stars hanging overhead. She didn’t know where to start and neither did he apparently, but she figured they had to do it somewhere and she stepped just out of reach.

“What you said in there, Jason…at the end?”

He glanced at her, gaze solemn. “Believe me when I say, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, (Y/N).”

She inhaled deeply, taking in his words and she turned away, looking out at the garden. “Have you told your family about me?”

“No. Not just yet. I was waiting until you were ready.”

(Y/N) tipped her head side to side. “While I thank you for doing so, I don’t think this is a decision to make until we’ve revealed everything to them.”

“Why’s that?” Jason questioned, brows furrowing in confusion and she spun slowly.

“Jason, vampirism is a…a lifechanging transformation. Not just for the individual but for the people around them as well.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think this conversation should be had right now until we tell your family the truth.”

He took her words in stride and reached out for her. She placed her hand in his and he took her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “Would you want me to join you?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long time, then she murmured, “…More than anything Jason. But you’ve yet to really grasp the concept and all it entails.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vampirism isn’t just extended life and protection from disease and poison, darling. It’s…it’s watching every human in your life grow old and die while you remain young forever. It’s remembering every detail that plagues history while the books get it wrong. It’s watching the world go by while you remain frozen as you are.”

She pulled back to stare into his eyes. “Though I would love to be with you for all of time, I don’t want to witness your despair as you watched your family and friends pass on.”

Jason’s mouth opened then he closed it when he realized he didn’t have a thing to say, and she smiled knowingly. “Darling, we’ve all the time in the world to figure this out.” Raising a hand, she cupped his cheek. “Don’t decide on forever, right now.”

“But I want to be with you,” he insisted quietly, that firm look she loved dearly in his eyes again.

“And I you. But as I said, you still need to discuss this with them first.”

Whatever comeback he had was cut off by a croak and they both turned their heads upwards as a bird circled them.

“Nevermore?” she called, raising her arm and he flew down, perching on her wrist. “What’s a matter boy?” He squawked and (Y/N)’s gaze hardened. “Do you know where?” When he answered her, she lifted her arm. “Take flight and lead me,” she commanded already pulling from Jason’s arm to head for the thickly barred iron gate.

“(Y/N), what is it?” Jason asked and she spun on her heel, still heading to the gate.

“Nevermore saw the werewolf hunting the city.”

He was already moving back to the ballroom. “I’ll get the oth—”

“No.” she commanded, and he stopped, gaping at her as she said, “I will be the one to finish this tonight. And I alone.”

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious,” he argued, and she shot him a sharp stare.

“Jason. You almost died last time.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I need to do this by myself.”

She was gone before he could say another word and he couldn’t help but stomp his foot into the ground and curse, “Shit.”

***

Finding it didn’t take long this time, less than two hours. Now that she had its scent, she had a straight path to it and even she was surprised at the location it was in—the same rooftop she’d fought it the first time on. She landed behind it and curled her wings around herself, watching as it sniffed around the rooftop.

“You’re not going to find your eye, Lycan,” she said, and it spun around, dropping to all fours as it snarled menacingly. (Y/N) merely gazed at it, taking in the pink scars across its face and the hollowed orbital socket. “Tell me who you are. I know your kind can speak in that form. Or are you feral?”

Again, it growled, and she tipped her chin up. “Couldn’t separate the man from the beast, hmm?” she challenged. “That happens when you’re weak and can’t control your own spirit.”

Something in her words set it off and it charged at her with a snarl. (Y/N) simply sidestepped when it came her way, safely avoiding the snapping jaw and it skidded in the gravel, spinning around to charge again.

“I would feel pity for you had you not murdered so many people.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I bet you got cocky in whatever circle you were in. Thought you could handle the beast before you were trained well enough.”

The werewolf swiped at her, but she dodged each strike and sent back one of her own, slicing into its side like it was paper. Howling, the beast scampered back a bit.

“Who was it that gave you their blood to consume? Your friend? A lover? Or perhaps some younger, more naïve circle member?” She shot forward and shot her wing out, colliding with the wolf. “The worst kind of transformation is the kind where the participant is foolish and inexperienced.”

(Y/N) hissed when it bit at the flesh of her wing and she scratched its leg with the claws on her feet. “How many transformations were you in control? Three? And then you just lost all control as it took over and you couldn’t come back!”

She closed both wings then extended them with a powerful beat, knocking the werewolf back a few feet. Wasting no time, she pushed off with her foot and surged forward, one hand gripping the wolf’s neck, the other flat and pointed.

“Your curse ends tonight, Lycan.” (Y/N) struck out and felt the warmth bleed across her arm as she planted her hand in its chest. “May you find mercy in whatever plane you end up in.”

Yanking her hand back, its snarl died in its mouth and she let go, watching it fall to the ground, gurgling and bleeding before it stilled, going slack in the rocks. (Y/N) cast one last look at it then turned her eyes to the moon high in the night sky. Almost a whole year of chasing and searching for this werewolf and it’d taken less than an hour to end it.

“Such a waste,” she hissed and stepped away. “So many people murdered and—”

Something latched onto her back and she spun to see what it was when she felt it spread out and dig into her skin. She grunted and reached for whatever had pierced her when it shocked her violently.

(Y/N) screeched and spun around, reaching behind her but whatever it was, was too far down. It kept pulsing and each one got stronger after the other and as she stepped forwards, she suddenly tripped and collapsed onto the gravel. Looking down through the pain, she saw her legs tied together with some kind of tri-weave rope.

She reached down to cut it when another pulse split through her body and she bellowed, back arching, wings beating out. (Y/N) knew she had to get away and she crawled along her hands, dragging her tied legs towards the edge. She was almost there when another compressed shot came from behind and she found herself cocooned by her wings, shocks still pulsing her body.

Struggling, she screeched and hissed, hoping to scare off whatever it was when she heard, “I’ve got this.”

It sounded like Dick and before she could say anything, he pressed something against her spine and the worst of the electric shocks passed through her and she descended into darkness.

***Final Chapter***

When (Y/N) didn’t contact Jason within the few hours she had left, he started to worry. He started panicking when Nevermore didn’t come to find him either.

One of the great things about her house is that other than it being a magic house that was bigger on the inside, it was also enchanted, and people didn’t notice it, so she kept the door unlocked.

Jason burst through the door, startling Fang who had been sound asleep on the couch and part of him wanted to apologize but his concern overrode it. He sprinted through the house, shouting her name.

“(Y/N)!” he turned down the hall and ran to the studio. “Where are you!” it was empty and he cursed, checking both bedrooms before entering the study. She wasn’t there either.

The only place she could be was in the basement and he moved back to the hall closet, pulling the door open. Jason yanked the rug away from the hatch and propped it up, getting on his hands and knees to yell down.

“(Y/N)! Are you down there!” he waited, voice echoing down the ladder and through the basement. “(Y/N)!”

A growl sounded beside him and he looked over, seeing White-Fang staring at him.

He reached over and ran a hand through his haunches. “Buddy, where is she?”

The wolfdog merely blinked and turned his snout into Jason’s wrist.

“She went after it, White-Fang. She went after it and I didn’t go with her and now she’s nowhere to be found.” His gazed at him. “What do I do?”

White-Fang bared his teeth in a snarl and Jason looked at them.

“I gotta tell them, don’t I?” he sighed and pulled his hand away, running it through his hair. “Alright. She might’ve wanted to tell them, but if she hasn’t sent Nevermore to relay, something’s wrong.” Jason stood and slammed the hatch shut.

As he ran down the hallway, he paused and looked back at the wolfdog. “Thanks, buddy.”

***

Bruce was anything if not punctual, and when he said for a party to be over, it was over. Honestly, it was actually Alfred who relayed the message and cleared everyone out—he had a knack for it, but Jason figured the loaded rifle he liked to clean in front of everyone.

That being said, the only people still in the ballroom when Jason got to the manor, were Lucius and Alfred. He sped up to them.

“Alfred. Lucius. Have either of you seen (Y/N)?”

Alfred blinked, shaking his head. “No, Master Jason. The last we saw of her, Miss (Y/N) was with you.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and Lucius asked, “Is something wrong, Mister Todd?”

“I can’t find her,” Jason admitted. “She left the party to find something, and she hasn’t called back or…or sent…” he trailed off and Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Your brothers are in the cave.”

He offered Alfred a tight smile. “Thanks, Alfred.” Glancing at the other man, he nodded. “Lucius.” They watched as he hurried off to the study.

***

His feet hit the bottom step and he strode to the Batcomputer where Dick and Damian were crowded around Tim who was typing away at something. “Hey,” he called, and they spun around, eyes widening.

“Little-wing, where’ve you been?” Dick quizzed, then took in his appearance. “You haven’t changed out of your suit.”

Jason’s hands subconsciously went to his tux and he smoothed it. “Yeah, haven’t gotten around to it yet.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Have any of you seen (Y/N)?”

Tim spun around in the chair. “Thought she was with you?”

“No. She left after we went into the gardens.” He reached out and curled his hands around the latches of Dick’s armor. “Dick, this is serious. I need to know if any of you have seen or heard from her.”

They gaped at the seriousness surrounding their brother and before they could respond, footsteps echoed behind him. Spinning around, they saw Bruce walking over. “Talk to me,” he demanded.

“We found the beast while you were dallying with the elite, father,” Damian quipped, then nodded to a medical table on the far side of the room.

Jason finally noticed it and his eyes widened at the werewolf’s dead body. “What?” he whispered.

“You killed it?” Bruce questioned and Dick snorted.

“Oh no, wedidn’t.” he nodded at the opposite side of the room. “That thing did.”

Everyone’s attention turned to a glass case about half the size of the study and what Jason saw made his heart drop into his feet. (Y/N) was in the farthest corner of the cage, her wings curled around her. She was still and silent.

“What is that?” their father asked, and Tim shrugged.

“Dunno. We ran a blood sample, but we have no idea what to make of it.”

“What doyou know about it?”

As they delved into a conversation, Jason made his way over to the cage. A flash of black appeared in his vision and he looked up, seeing Nevermore gliding to sit atop the cage. He tipped his head, staring at him with a beady eye.

“Is she okay?” he whispered and Nevermore nodded, hopping down to Jason’s wrist when he held it up above the cage. He glanced at the keypad and knew it had some type of failsafe to shut down on the first failed attempt.

“What’s the number, pretty boy?” he asked softly. “Four digits.”

Nevermore cocked his head to the keypad then back to Jason. “One-Nine-Eight-Nine.”

Jason punched in the number and the door slid open with a hiss. Nevermore fluttered up to the bars away from the cage and as he stepped inside, he slammed his fist into the keypad, watching as it sparked, and the door slid shut.

He heard his name being shouted behind him, but he moved to her, yanking off his gloves. “(Y/N)?” he whispered, fingertips tracing the ashen gray skin of her wing. “Doll? Are you alright?”

Someone hit the glass door. “Jason! Get away from that thing!” It was Bruce.

“I’m here, (Y/N),” he promised. “I’m right here.”

A single wing curled away, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into it and it curled around him, darkening his vision, though he could see the faint glow of her crimson eyes.

He felt her arms wrap around his body and he shut his eyes, one cradling the back of his head as she stood to her feet and he grabbed tight to her as she bent her knees and suddenly shot up through the glass ceiling, shattering it into a million pieces.

It felt like an eternity, being weightless in her arms, then the shock of the world came back as they hit the cave floor and she uncurled her wings, exposing them to his family.

Jason opened his eyes as he heard the various weapons unsheathe, charge-up, and extend, and he stared up at (Y/N). “It’s going to be alright, doll.”

“I can hear their hearts, darling,” she whispered lowly. “They are afraid for you.” (Y/N) looked down at him. “Of me.”

He shook his head and smiled, “Let me handle this, okay?”

For a moment she didn’t move, then she slowly uncurled her arms and he turned, but he didn’t step away from her, merely extending his arm out to protect her.

“Guys, you’ve got to relax,” he directed, and Jason saw their eyes dart from her to him.

“Jason, you’ve gotta be joking man,” Tim countered. “That thing killed that thingover there.” He took a step forward. “Put its hand through its chest.”

“I know she did,” he replied and held out his other hand to motion for them to stop. “But she’s not going to hurt anyone here.”

“She?” Dick repeated. “That’s a she?” From the look on his face, he didn’t believe his brother.

Jason looked at Bruce. “She’s not going to hurt us, B.” he inhaled deeply and pleaded, “You’ve gotta trust me on this. Put the weapons down.”

They stared one another down and then Bruce held out a hand, and the weapons lowered. He glanced back at (Y/N) and nodded, though her eyes were still wary, and he murmured, “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Sighing, she stepped back and cocooned herself with her wings once more, then a swirl of black smoke rose around her and a moment later, (Y/N) stepped forward, her face unreadable and Jason would’ve paid all the money in the world to have a picture framed of the expressions his family gave at her reveal.

“Good evening,” she greeted. “I’m sure this is coming at a surprise.”

No one said a word. Not a single word and Jason was sure this was the first time he’d ever seen his family speechless.

“I have contemplated revealing my true nature to you all since our first meeting, understand though that I didn’t wish for you all to see my…other form.” (Y/N) explained. “But please, do not be afraid of me. I’m not going to harm you.”

Jason reached back and took her hand, pulling so half her body was behind him. “I know this is confusing but (Y/N)’s been doing this a lot longer than we have.”

“Uh…how long exactly?” Dick wondered.

He looked back at her and she sighed. “About ten…thousand years.”

Again, he wished he had a picture of their faces.

Tim blinked. “Is there a term for older milfs that isn’t cougar?”

At that, the cave descended into hysterical laughter and (Y/N) pressed her face into Jason’s shoulder as she cackled, and even he was rubbing at his eyes as tears gathered in them.

“Oh my God, I’m so happy I’m no longer the only one being known to date older women!” Dick shouted and the mood was broken by Bruce who walked up to them.

“How long have you been in Gotham?”

(Y/N)’s laughter faded, and she pulled a solemn expression. “About four centuries. I helped the American soldiers against the British when the war came here.” She looked away. “It’s been a long time since I involved myself in human affairs but…” Jason squeezed her hand and she glanced down at their cojoined grip. “But Jason changed that when he picked a fight with a coven a year or so ago.”

“Okay, technically I didn’t pick the fight, they started attacking me,” he retorted.

“After youwaltzed into their territory like you owned the joint.”

Jason scowled. “Semantics.”

(Y/N) chuckled and met Bruce’s gaze, and something passed between them. “Is there something on your mind, Bruce?”

“What are you?” he asked, and she opened her mouth, flashing her fangs. “Vampire?”

“Yes…but that doesn’t seem to be the problem for you.” her eyes narrowed. “So, what is?” Bruce glanced at Jason and she knew right then. “I haven’t used any powers over Jason to sway his mind.”

“Are you sure?”

(Y/N) reached up and undid the tie from Jason’s neck, then unbuttoned the first two of his shirt and showed his neck to them. “Vampiric seduction only works when a vampire has consumed the blood of someone they enthralled.” She let Jason go. “I haven’t fed on Jason nor any human for ten millennia. This I swear to you.”

Jason nodded. “(Y/N)’s never hurt me, B.”

“She killed that thing,” he said, nodding at the corpse and she turned to it, pulling away from Jason to walk over.

“I did. As was my duty as a vampire.” She examined the werewolf. “But I did confirm my suspicions. It was a feral. But now it’s dead and no more people will be ravaged by it.”

“Feral?” Dick repeated. “Like crazy?”

“Wild,” (Y/N) corrected. “When a human can’t separate the beast from themselves, they lose control over their abilities to shift.” Her fingers trailed delicately over the hole she made in its chest. “They’re lost forever. A mindless beast.”

“You mean this was a human?” Damian questioned. “A person?”

She nodded. “Was. Hasn’t been for some time now.” Shaking her head, she admitted, “Though I’m still unsure of how it got into Gotham City. The nearest werewolf colony is in Virginia. It is…concerning that it got this far, especially with as many vampiric territories between here and there it must’ve passed through.”

“We could’ve saved them,” Bruce grunted, and she gazed at him.

“No. No you couldn’t’ve.”

“You don’t know that,” he shot back, and she cocked a brow.

“With all due respect, Bruce, you’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And you do?”

(Y/N)’s face pinched. “I’m a ten-thousand-year-old vampire that’s battled against Lycans for thousands of years.” Scowling, she griped, “Yeah, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

Bruce took a step forward, but Jason cut him off. “Look, I know how much you love being right, but this time, you’re not, okay? (Y/N) stopped this thing from hurting anyone else.”

“She killed it. We don’t kill in my—”

“Bruce.” She silenced him with a firm call. “I understand your no kill rule, but you need to understand that Gotham City isn’t your city. And even if you think it is, my centuries of being here out way your family’s.” She got in his face, staring him down. “I did what was expected of me by the council and I’m not going to apologize for taking care of my business.”

Pointing back at it, she added, “And this was mine. Not yours.”

They glared at each other and Jason rested a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to soften her eyes when she looked at him. “(Y/N), you’ve expended a lot of energy being in your form for so long. We should get you something to eat and some rest.”

(Y/N) reached up and wiped the fatigue from her eyes. “I need to contact Alexander and tell him I took care of it.”

“Do it tomorrow,” Jason urged, pulling her into his arms. “Doll, you’re exhausted. Even I can tell.”

“I’m fine,” she retorted but his arms tightened around her.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you if I have to,” he threatened, and she hissed.

“I am not a sack of potatoes.”

“So, you’re going to walk willingly?” he asked, blinking those pretty teal eyes expectantly and she scowled at him.

“Fine.” (Y/N) started towards the stairs, him grinning as he followed.

“(Y/N),” Bruce called, and she stopped, glancing back at him.

“Yes?”

He didn’t look at her. “Can I expect more of these again? Or any of you? That form specifically?”

“Lycans? Not likely. Vampires? More likely. Me though?” she shook her head. “No, I’m the only one of my kind in this dimension.”

“This dimension?” Tim queried and stuck himself to her side. “Are you from another dimension?”

(Y/N) blinked down at him. “Why do you wanna know?”

“That’s not a no.”

She smirked, ruffling his hair. “Tell you later. How about that?”

His lips pursed, but after a moment he nodded. “Can we test your stamina and any other limits you’ve got?”

“Sure Tim,” she agreed and took Jason’s hand. “Hundred bucks says I can give your dad a run for his money.”

He grinned. “I’ll take that bet.”

(Y/N) waved at the others and leaned on him as they walked up the stairs in silence.

***

He’d already changed out of his suit and slipped on a pair of boxers when she stepped out of the bathroom and immediately collapsed beside him on the bed, letting out a groan.

“Tired?” he chuckled, rolling over to lay on his stomach, hand caressing her back.

(Y/N) nodded. “It’s odd. I don’t get tired like I used to when I first started out but…”

“But?” Jason encouraged and she turned her face to look at him.

“But I’ve noticed that when I spend long amounts of time in my Vampire Lord form, I revert back and am just overcome with fatigue.” She exhaled deeply and buried her face in the mattress before inching up to lay her face just below the pillow. “I’m tired,” she said, voice muffled against the fabric and Jason snorted, raising up.

He straddled her hips, pressing himself against her and smirked at the curious noise she made when he yanked the towel away leaving her exposed. Jason dug his hands into her skin, kneading every knot she’d gathered the past few months.

(Y/N) groaned into the sheets as he squeezed her shoulders, digging his thumb into the curve of her back muscle and she couldn’t help but shift slightly, the relief almost shy of painful. It was, however, the price to pay for all she’d put her body though recently.

“I think you’re more knotted up than a fishing net,” he murmured, massaging her sides.

She grunted and wiggled her hips, listening to him inhale sharply. “Can’t help it,” she said. “I knot easily.”

Jason smirked and shifted back slightly, hands moving down to knead the flesh of her lower back and haunches. “You must be happy to have me as your personal de-knotter.”

“Could be happier,” she countered, gasping silently when he pinched her rear. “Jason!” she hissed and shot a look over her shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

He blinked innocently. “Do what?”

“I will punch you,” she warned, and he rolled his eyes.

“No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” she shot back, eyes widening at the audacity. “I won’t punch you? Who do you think you’re talk—oh wow,” (Y/N) inhaled sharply when he cupped her, fingers sliding between her thighs.

“What was that?” Jason asked and she groaned his name.

“Jason…”

He hummed, middle finger twitching enough that it had her arching back. “What do you want?”

“I’d personally rather die than beg you to finger me,” she hissed and placed her hands out away from her and shifted, sliding her legs from underneath him. (Y/N) turned over and propped herself up against the pillows, curling her pointer finger up at him.

Jason started crawling up the bed. “So, what will it take for you to beg?”

“Depends on what you want me to beg for, darling,” she countered, elegantly raising a leg, placing her foot on his shoulder. “But I’m sure you could persuade me to lower myself enough.”

He chuckled and reached up, grabbing the top of her foot as he leaned forward and she bent it, letting her heel rest on his back. Jason pushed her other thigh apart, exposing her and he looked up at her, waiting.

“Want permission?” she queried with a smile and he pressed a kiss to her thigh.

“Can’t come without it…isn’t that how that goes?” he teased and (Y/N) rolled her eyes, reaching down to grab his chin.

She tipped his head up and whispered, “Love me, darling. Like you want to.” Jason’s eyes darkened as he swallowed thickly and she pulled her hand away, resting it on her stomach. “Going shy on me?” (Y/N) murmured and propped her other arm behind her head so she could watch him. “But you look so pretty.”

“You’re a witch, you know that?” he countered and shifted her legs further apart. “You enjoy the power, don’t you?”

(Y/N) hummed. “I’m not called a ‘Lord’ for nothing, darling.” She groaned when he nipped up her thigh to her center. “My power isn’t challenged often.”

“I guess I’m just cocky enough to challenge,” Jason shot back before dragging his tongue up her center, smirking when she gasped, the leg over his shoulder tensing.

She reached down and carded her fingers through his hair. “Or foolish,” she breathed, grip on his tresses tightening when he circled her clit with his tongue. “Jason,” (Y/N) moaned, arching her back in need.

His only response was a groan that had her shivering as it sent shocks throughout her body and then he was sliding his middle finger into her, pumping it quickly.

“More,” she begged, and he obeyed, sliding another finger into her, curling them repeatedly until he found that spot inside her that had (Y/N) writhing, hips lifting with every pump.

Each time he gave her a sharp suck, she tugged his hair, pricking his scalp with points of pain and he returned it with low groan that had her whining and pulling him closer to her. At one point, she’d forgone watching him, tipping her head back, letting out little “Ah-ah-ah’s” and Jason knew the higher pitched she got, the closer the was and all it spurred him to do was make it happen faster.

Her thighs began to close around him and before he knew it, she was grabbing at his shoulders and yanking him up to kiss him. Jason kept curling his fingers and she gripped his wrist, stopping him.

“What’re you doing?” he questioned, pulling away to look into her ember eyes. They were blown wide with desire and she shook her head.

“I want you inside me.”

“I was,” Jason breathed heavily, though he removed his fingers and started shimmying off his underwear.

(Y/N) took his length in her hand and pumped him a few times, smiling breathlessly when he cursed and squeezed the flesh under her thigh still over his shoulder. “Not the part of you I want inside anymore.”

He took his length in his hand, guiding himself until he was up against her core, but he stopped and gazed at her. “Beg me.”

“I hate you,” she hissed, and he smirked.

“Hate sex is fun too, doll. We can do that instead if you want, but you’re still going to beg a little.” Jason leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling it with his teeth.

“Jason,” she whined. “Please.”

“Little more,” he coaxed when he pulled off, heading for the other one and she cocked her other leg around his hip.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” (Y/N) barked. “Fuck me already, you ass.”

Jason smirked and sheathed himself in one thrust, both of them gasping at the ripple of pleasure; his chest was heaving as he looked down at her. “How do you want it?”

“Fast,” she pleaded. “Fast and hard, please, Jason. Please.”

He grunted and pulled out only to thrust back in, setting a harsh pace that had her shouting, back curving up against him. Jason bent forward, pushing her leg into her chest and she dropped her head back.

“Fuck,” she groaned, feeling him deep inside her and he chuckled, though it sounded strained against her skin.

“Hard enough for you?” he growled, pinching one of her nipples and she nodded rapidly.

“Yes, yes, Jason. Keep going. More.”

He huffed a laugh. “Whatever will it take to please you?” Jason captured her lips in a searing kiss as he felt her slip a hand between them, and then she was tightening around him. “Shit,” he cursed, breaking their kiss and he gazed at her. “Doll…” he panted; his voice was taut, and he could feel it coming faster and faster.

(Y/N) whimpered beneath him and cupped his cheek. “Darling, please,” she begged, and that needy voice was the final push. Jason buried his face in her neck and moaned her name desperately as he spilled himself, hips stuttering and then she was gasping in his ear, clenching, and pulsing around him.

They both laid there panting, trying to catch their breaths for what seemed like an hour, then Jason helped her lower her leg before he eased himself out, collapsing beside her. (Y/N), very slowly, turned over and tucked herself underneath his arm, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heart.

“You know…” he started. “That was supposed to be a slow and gentle lovemaking.”

(Y/N) snorted, wrapping her arm around his waist. “We can do slow in the morning.” She looked at him. “Now was the time we tired ourselves out so we can sleep longer.”

“Oh? Is that what that was?” he asked with a grin and she nodded.

“Indeed, it was,” she answered and laid her head back on his chest, eyes starting to slip shut.

“(Y/N)?”

“Mhm?”

“I want you to know that my decision hasn’t changed.”

Her eyes opened but she didn’t look at him. “Truly?”

“I want to be with you. Now…and forever.”

For a moment, she was quiet, then she said, “I want you to spend one whole year talking to your family. If after one full year, you have gained their approval of this choice…then we’ll start the process and I’ll make you vampire.”

“Really?” he asked. “Just like that.”

“Just like that.”

“You won’t regret doing it?”

(Y/N) turned her head, gazing into his eyes. “I regret many things in my life, Jason. But I would never regret you.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, then murmured, “Nor I you.”

She smiled and reached up, grazing her fingers against his cheek. “Now that that has been settled, it is time to rest.”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked, and she hummed.

“Always, darling. Always and forever.”

268 notes · View notes

chhagiya · 3 years

Text

Funny fanfic by me

Jung Woo is having a headache. Not just literal headache, figurative headache too. He is about 95% sure his neighbor has a crush on him and is stalking him.

He saw the man from room 304 near his office. He didn’t want to go home now so he entered a cafe. It’s a cafe come restaurant really. The restaurant is on 2nd floor and in order to go there, one needs reservation, it’s pretty reputable. 2nd floor is fancy, office groups, business groups often reserve that place.

Jung Woo just needed some alone time but hey, it won’t be fair if his luck allowed that now, would it ? He suddenly saw someone he really didn’t expect to see here. Ji Eun, with her parents. Because why not ? Luck is a sadistic bitch after all !!! Only throwing Ji Eun at him right now would’ve been too easy. Jung Woo knew that Ji Eun’s parents now live in Seoul. But knowing how they are, Jung Woo has been trying his best to avoid them. If Ji Eun is judgmental about Jung Woo’s penchant for being an author, her parents are about 30 degrees steeper than her. They have mocked and lectured Jung Woo before on occasion. Jung Woo has zero interest in facing that now. He wanted to get out from there but they are coming through the door. Where should he hide ? What on earth….

“Hello Jagi !!”

Jung Woo moved his head and he couldn’t believe his eyes at first.

“What are you doing here ?”

“I saw you as I was passing by…”

“You’re a liar !! I know you’re following me !!”

Moon Jo smiled and noticed the anxiety in Jung Woo’s eyes

“Are you okay Jagi ?”

“Look I really need to get out of here, I can’t talk to you right now. So please….”

“Ok let’s go out then…”

As Moon Jo said that, Jung Woo noticed Ji Eun and Ji Eun’s parents sat right nearby the door of the cafe. To get out, he now has to pass by next to that table. That’s… that’s just great !!! Fucking great !!!

“Are you hiding from your girlfriend ?” Moon Jo said rather mischievously

Jung Woo looked at him as if he’s going to turn Moon Jo into ash, and then looked at the door again while trying to hide himself.

“Come with me Jagi “

“Where ?”

Moon Jo somewhat dragged Jung Woo to the 2nd floor of the cafe. Jung Woo tried to protest but didn’t want to create scene. Especially not when Ji Eun’s parents are here. 2nd floor is separated into several sections. The separation is made for private parties to have dinner reservations. Privacy is a big deal after all.

“The fuck are you doing ? This are reserved spots. You can’t be here without reservations !!!!! Are you listening to me ??”

Jung Woo kept screaming in whispering voice as Moon Jo entered one separated reserved place, very nonchalantly. Like he owns the place. He always has that attitude. A person was cleaning the already clean dinning area, when Moon Jo said “oh that’s ok, thank you so much” . The lady bowed and left. Jung Woo was suspicious now…

“Did you reserve this place ?”

“Nope”

“Then what the fuck are you doing ?”

“You said you needed to get out of there… your girlfriend is not gonna come here looking for you “ he said with a big smile

“Hey asshole !!! This is reserved place !! What if people who reserved it comes ?? What then ??”

“ we will leave then….” How is Moon Jo always so chill, is beyond Jung Woo

Moon Jo sat down on one chair, still smiling at Jung Woo. The place has a table and a few chairs, suitable for a reservation with 5-6 people. The place is barricaded with flower printed wooden wall separators. Customers need to open 2 sliding doors to enter this spot. The whole decoration is very serene and flowery with a mild incense.

“What do you wanna eat Jagi ?” Moon Jo looking at Jung Woo like a child looking at a bunny

“Nothing …. How can you even think that ? People who reserved it might come anytime !!”

“You need to calm down Jagiya …. How often do we get to be together like this ? This is fun….Just enjoy… by the time, your girlfriend will leave. Speaking of, why are you hiding from your girlfriend ?”

“I’m not hiding from Ji Eun, her parents are here too…”

“And you hate them…”

“I don’t hate them, you asshole !! It’s just…. They are too much !!! I’ve been dealing with too much lately and I don’t want to deal with their criticism right now !!”

“They criticize you ? In what way ?”

“In every way possible…”

Jung Woo doesn’t know why he’s explaining so much to Moon Jo. Jung Woo is just pacing nervously around the table while Moon Jo is sitting very relaxingly on a chair, with one leg folded on another. He’s already ordering food as if they actually reserved this place. Moon Jo seems like he’s on vacation while Jung Woo is awaiting the birth of his child…

“Jagi, You’re an artist. Not just any artist, but an exceptional one. You’re genuinely talented. As a person, you’re not fake like everyone else. And cherry on cake, you’re really handsome. “

Jung Woo looked at him, not understanding why he’s saying these. Moon Jo has praised him a ton of times and as creepy as he is, Jung Woo knows that he’s not just flattering Jung Woo or flirting. Moon Jo is genuine as well….

“ what I’m saying is, if someone criticized you in any of the said areas, then they are morons. It’s not you. And for an artist like you, don’t waste your time and energy listening to some idiotic people’s criticism…”

Jung Woo didn’t know how to respond to that. He opened his mouth to say something, and then …

There is the sound of opening the door…

Someone is coming in this reserved area…

Oh shit !!!

Jung Woo’s fear became true. People who reserved this spot came for their reservation and they are opening the door.

This will be a shitshow !!! This place is reputable. They strictly do not allow people without reservations on this floor. Everyone will now know Jung Woo was hiding here !! The staff will come, guards will come… everyone at the cafe will also know about this … including his girlfriend and her parents !!!!

What happened next… Jung Woo was NOT ready for that, by long shot

Moon Jo got up from his chair, came to Jung Woo and pinned him to the flimsy flowery wooden wall. He made sure to cover Jung Woo with his own body so the people entering can sort of see that there are 2 people but not really see the faces. Moon Jo stood there, grabbed Jung Woo’s shoulder, not too hard, closed his eyes and started moaning pretty audibly

“Oh god yes, oh my goodness, this is sooooo good. Oh baby I want you so bad….”

3 people were about to enter through the door. They just opened the sliding door, heard that moaning, saw that 2 people are in there, and immediately closed the sliding door.

As Moon Jo heard the door closing, he faced the other way, still fake moaning, and went to check if those people are gone or not. While still moaning pretty loud “ yes, yes, yes, oh my god yes…”

Moon Jo’s concentration was to make sure nobody enters that room cause it would have caused a big issue. Especially in a reserved restaurant like this. But Jung Woo was utterly gone.

He was so scared and anxious that they might be caught trespassing without reservation. To top that Moon Jo ordered coffee and cake for both of them, which Jung Woo had no intention of having but Moon Jo was relishing them. From that….it went straight to Moon Jo grabbing Jung Woo’s shoulder and moaning loudly. Jung Woo didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that, after quite a long time, he was actually aroused. With Ji Eun, he needs to think of stuff, dirty scenarios to get himself going. Jung Woo never got boners just by being with Ji Eun or any other former lovers. But now….. he heard his creepy neighbor fake moaning and he was incredibly turned on. Turned on to the point that it was visible on his jeans pants. Jung Woo sat down on chair to hide the bulge.

“They’re gone Jagi. But let’s go now. They will come back soon” Moon Jo’s smile never leaves him

“Hmmm” Jung Woo couldn’t make any other sound

“Why are you sitting down now ?”

“Nothing !! You go out, I’ll come after …”

“They will come soon Jagi …”

“I know !! “

“So ?”

“I said, I’m coming !!” Jung Woo said while clenching his teeth and rolled his own eyes thinking about the double meaning of that sentence he just said

Moon Jo paused for about 3 seconds …

“I like it when you’re being weird… even I can’t tell sometimes what’s happening…” Moon Jo laughed lightly

“You don’t have to… please go out …”

Moon Jo got out smiling mischievously….. Jung Woo got out, somewhat bending, trying to cover his rising hardness, while thinking of committing murder-suicide…..

#funny MJJW fanfic #strangers from hell #seo moon jo #hell is other people #lee dongwook #yoon jong woo #im siwan #yoon jongwoo #seo moonjo #fanfic

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softomi · 4 years

Text

i like you so matcha

prompt: is it really a rivals to lovers if one likes the other?

pairing: osamu x reader

word count: 3.2k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

Osamu wasn’t one to worry about competition; he had heard of the new café just a few stores down from his own restaurant and while he believed that the grand opening was nothing more than large interest, the hype reached his own workers. While he prides himself on providing a menu that is cost efficient and perfect for anyone; his workers seem to think that the new café combined low cost with high quality and aesthetics.

Again, Osamu wasn’t that interested in the new place until through the grapevine he heard they were selling onigiri. It wasn’t just any onigiri, apparently their take involved changing the color of the rice to add an artistic component. They were even going as far as shaping the onigiri into novelty orientations, one of his workers showcased the hello kitty onigiri.

Once more, Osamu tried to reason that it wasn’t interesting but he can’t help the sudden tick of his forehead when his brother walks right passed the windows of his restaurant only to emerge thirty minutes later with a to-go box of rainbow colored onigiri. It irked him even more when Atsumu had the audacity to sit at the counter and eat the onigiris with such happiness.

“Hey Samu, you think you could make some of these.” Osamu takes the box, promptly throwing it into the trash, eliciting a whine from Atsumu who declares that now he must wait another twenty minutes in line for more.

Osamu finds himself waiting in line with his brother. Atsumu cries that his stomach is hungry, but Osamu keeps his attention to how long the line is; it didn’t wrap around the block but it was fairly long enough to understand that the place was popular. The glow of the neon blue sign is just barely evident under the sun, but it must appear better under night conditions.

When he looks inside, he sees pristine white tables that balance with the brightly colored food; the chairs looked to have comfortable padding, some decorated with different colored pillows. There were mirrors displayed along the walls, one moon shaped, one stars, one of the sun, he takes it to understand that this was probably a theme of the café.

“We’re almost to the front!” Atsumu’s stomach growls the closer they get.

Osamu notices there’s decorative fairy lights along the window looking out into the street, the windowsill is large and he thinks it’s a good idea when he sees some customers using the space as a seating area. There’s a chalkboard used to display the menu behind the workers at the counter and even a small one at the cash register that lists the specials of the day.

Even as they find a seat, Osamu’s eyes are staring at the ceiling, how aesthetic, he thinks, there’s even a mirror above where they sat. He observes the customers, most are women but here and there are a few men; some with their lovers, some just here for the food. He can conclude that most of the hype of the place is from the aesthetic alone. It’s the perfect place for a photo opportunity with how decorated everything is.

“Order for Miya!”

Atsumu practically sprints to the counter and back. When Osamu tries to touch the food, Atsumu slaps his hand, “Wait! Let me take a picture!”

Osamu rolls his eyes; his brother has fallen into the trap that is the café. Atsumu takes five minutes to capture every angle that he can, even utilizing the ceiling mirror to get a picture of him and his brother with the food. Osamu takes note of Atsumu’s drink, clear plastic with a secure top; it allows you to see the different layers of the coffee but he knows once Atsumu mixes the drink it’ll turn green for the matcha flavor.

“Look!” Atsumu is shoving the cup in Osamu’s face, “There’s a design on the cup!” Atsumu’s eyes sparkle at the cute print of a Pokémon character, “That means I was one of the first hundred customers of the day.”

At this point, Osamu wants to applaud the aesthetic of the restaurant. Even taking the time to print on designs for customers as a novelty item to which they could boost about on social media, Osamu is impressed. But he reasons that the aesthetic of the place must hold to a high standard with the food.

So when he takes one of the onigiri’s, he’s ready to critique the flavor.

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

When Osamu looks up after taking a bite, the rice flows down the wrong pipe; he coughs loudly, wheezing at the way the salted salmon is a lump in his throat. Atsumu gives up his drink for his brother and Osamu nearly falls in love with the sweet taste of the matcha coffee.

“Are you alright?” Your hand is pressed on his shoulder, it moved from when you had been lightly hitting his back to help.

Osamu’s cough dies down as he watched you move to the counter; the workers listening intently to your words before nodding off.

“I’m sorry.” Osamu coughs for a last time as you approach the table.

Your hands are on your hips, a grin pressed neatly on your lips as you hold out a hand, “It’s my fault, I must have surprised you coming over all of a sudden. I’m the owner and you run Onigiri Miya don’t you?” Osamu feels sweat beat down the side of his face when he reaches out to grasp your hands, “I’m a big fan, you have great flavors, I can only hope that ours matches yours.”

Your attention turns to his twin, Atsumu gladly takes your attention, this gives Osamu time to collect himself. Osamu discoveries himself staring at you, you radiated a type of energy, one that he feels matches his own when it comes to running a business. The smile on your face makes him flush slightly and his palms remain sweaty from when he held your hand.

“It’s an honor to have a professional volleyball player eat at our establishment. We hope to see us on your social media page. One of my workers will bring over a free drink for the inconvenience.” Your head lowers in courtesy, waving to the men to continue their dining experience, “Oh and Mister Onigiri Miya, I’d love to bounce some ideas off you, I think we’d work great as partners for a few projects.”

Business partners was the last thing Osamu was going to agree to now that he had been up and close with the café; it’s been deemed a threat. It irked him when he saw you, a smile on your face as you wave to him early in the morning. His business seemed to always open and end with you, that’s how he discovered that even your hours of operation were the same as his.

It annoyed him when you visited, a large cup of matcha coffee in your hand as you offer it to him during the middle of lunch rush. It’s sweet when he drinks it, but he tries not to like it too much and he even tries to repress the craving for it on days when you don’t visit his shop. He even holds back the urge to visit the café when he really wants some matcha coffee.

He also finds it absolutely annoying how the parking spaces in front of his restaurant are always blocked by your customers. One time he stormed into your café, the workers were no stranger to his complaints. He’s automatically walking to your office in the back. When he can’t find you, he discovers you in a hidden kitchen meant for creative purposes.

“Oh, Miya Osamu. What can I do for you?” There’s rice on your cheek, your apron dirtied with minced ingredients, you wipe your hands on the ends of your apron to leave streaks of flour.

Osamu pushes aside the thought that he finds your hair pulled up cute, his hands on his waist as he puffs out his chest, “You need to do something about the parking situation! Your customers are parking in spots specifically meant for Onigiri Miya!”

You laugh, the back of your hand wiping against your cheek to remove the rice, “No problem! I’ll just put up signs on parking. Good?”

Osamu’s eyes twitch, the rice on your cheek is still stuck there and you can’t seem to find just where it is. He takes a step forward, fingers reaching out to graze the speck of rice and flick it off into another direction. You’re grinning.

“Thanks, did you want some coffee?” Your hand is already preparing a cup, pushing buttons on a machine as it spews out coffee, “I’m trying out some matcha and chocolate fusion drinks. I think I just figured out the perfect balance. Taste test?” You hold out the cup to him.

It’s sweet, just a perfect blend; absolutely beautiful. Osamu ends up taking the drink back to his restaurant, eyes staring at the cup with doodles of hearts and stars.

The next day, Osamu barges into your office stating that the music from your café is too loud, even though he’s three stores down, and none of his workers could hear anything but he’s insisted that the music is too distracting. He returns once more with a complimentary drink and a lighter mood than before.

“Isn’t he being too demanding?” One of your workers watches Osamu peer into the shop.

You’re smiling, already prepping the matcha drink, “I think it’s cute.”

“He’s acting like he’s part of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your worker stands straight up, “Good morning mister Miya, another complaint today?”

Osamu crosses his arms, lips in a thin line, “If you’re going to have your workers hand out flyers, I would prefer it if it wasn’t done in front of my restaurant.”

“Here’s your order.” The cup in your hand is stretched out to him.

“I didn’t.” Osamu frowns but his finger brush against yours when he reaches for the cup.

“I’ll be sure to tell them to stay closer to our café.” Despite him turning away, he flushes, “Have a great day Miya Osamu!” Your voice makes his ears go red.

The workers giggle when he turns around to thank you. It was painfully obvious that he had a crush on you. Excuses upon excuses as a way to step into your café and have brief moments with you. His eyes distracted by the cup, he runs into the door, giggles follow him as he leaves.

Osamu has himself crouched behind the counter, hands in his hair, hiding from the world. He remains a roadblock to his workers but they all move around him; he can’t possibly step back into your café after that embarrassing moment.

“It probably wasn’t that bad sir.” The worker has been waiting for five minutes trying to get one of the rice bags from behind Osamu.

Osamu digs his hands into his hair, “I basically face planted into the door.”

“Can I just get the rice please? We have orders.”

When Osamu stands to his feet, the wind gets knocked out of him. You wave from behind the counter and Osamu coughs as though he was busily trying to do something from under.

“Can I help you with something?”

You lean on your toes, it makes him want to delve just a little closer to you, “Yeah, there’s a car blocking one of our carry out spots, it has an Onigiri Miya sticker on the bumper so we thought maybe it was yours?”

Osamu facepalms, he had forgotten to move his car. He’s quick to round the counter, making his way to you until he feels it. He’s suddenly thrusted forward, unable to comprehend the wet floor sign before he’s tumbling right into you. Your hands steady his arms, Osamu’s find themselves clutching your waist. He was blushing madly, nose brushing against yours; customers and workers alike stare at the rather intimate hold.

“Are you alright?”

Osamu lets go but the step he takes back makes him slip, your arm stretches out to grasp him but it only sends you forward. Everyone gasps. Osamu lands on his ass, your body hovering over him and he’s blushing even harder now with your breath against his skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You pull away from him.

“It’s my fault.” Osamu dusts himself off, helping you to your feet, even holding your hand to try and balance the both of you, “Are you okay?”

Besides minor embarrassment, you grin to him, “Nothing I haven’t experienced before. Have you ever slipped and spilled rice in the middle of lunch rush, effectively getting grains of rice in everything?” Osamu laughs, “Truly one of my more embarrassing moments.”

He feels his heart suddenly more at ease, the restaurant goes back to their bustling conversations and the two of you walk out together. Osamu thinks to himself that the term rivals didn’t fit the category that he has you under in his head.

“It’s called love.” Atsumu draws the word out and Osamu smacks his arm, effectively making Atsumu bang his head against the table, “Dammit Samu! Stop doing that!”

“Stop being stupid then.”

Atsumu begins a snarky outcry of obscenities at his brother. He doesn’t mind it as he sees you walking past his restaurant. The sun makes it hard for you to notice him through the windows but he has a perfect view of you carrying boxes towards your café. Your steps halt as the top box begins to tilt, leaning the rest of the boxes in the same directions.

“I got you.” Osamu pushes the boxes, he takes the top half to balance in his hands, “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” You beam, “I see your brother is visiting.”

When Osamu looks at the window, Atsumu has his face pressed against the glass. His heavy breathing creating fog, “Samu!” It amuses you when Osamu knocks against the glass, sending Atsumu to jolt back, “Samu! Get me some onigiri from the café.”

“You’re literally in an Onigiri restaurant!” Osamu barks.

Your giggle pulls him along and as if cupid had struck him with fifty arrows, he follows you happily.

It came to no surprise for literally everyone when Osamu finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. In the after hours of work, he discovers you flipping chairs all by your lonesome; his hand knocks against the glass, it causes you to jump in surprise but it quickly fades when you see him motioning for the locked door.

“Where are all of your workers?” Osamu has begun to help turn the chairs onto the tables, something he’s accustomed to doing at his restaurant.

“I sent them home. I don’t like making them stay too late.”

Osamu thinks about how his workers are cleaning up at the moment; he follows you to the back, eyes trailing themselves over your body, he finds the way your hair is tied with ribbons to be cute and he wonders if you look just as cute with your hair down.

“Osamu?”

He blushes when you bring him back to reality, “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“I’m just finishing up some prep for tomorrow, you don’t have to stay.” Your hands dust flour onto the table, your fingers forming bagels for tomorrow’s breakfast rush.

Osamu stands next to you, he curiously takes a piece of dough, following your hand movements to form the bagel shape, “This is the first time I’ve formed bagels.”

“Really?” You glance at him, “You’re a natural, I’d definitely hire you as a chef.” Unexpectedly, Osamu feels your hand hold over his, “You just need to make sure it’s all uniform. I don’t think my customers would enjoy bagels that are one size five times bigger than another.”

It’s another two hours before you two finish forming and proofing the bagels for the next day. He waits outside the doors of your café, he can clearly see his workers are just about to leave too, they snicker seeing him waiting outside. He quickly motions for them to go away, when the door chimes, he pretends as though he was just about to scratch his head.

“Thanks for the help.” Your hair falls past your shoulders, Osamu wishes time would stop for a second so he could run his fingers through them. It’s just the two of you standing on the empty street, the lamps barely doing you justice, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait.” Osamu tugs on your sleeve, “Do you want to have dinner with me? Or will you? I mean, you don’t have to but if you want to.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Osamu gulps, “Are willing to go out with me?”

He may have reached another level of joy when you clasp onto his arm, “Duh! You’re a little slow but you got there eventually.”

Osamu lets you drag him along the sidewalk, opting for a place nearby rather than driving elsewhere. He can’t help the smile of content on his face watching you stuff your mouth with food. The meal is comfortable and nice; but the date is absolutely, blissfully, perfect. At the end of the night, he walks you to your car, hands dug deep into his pockets and he isn’t sure if he should shamelessly kiss you or do the awkward hug and goodbye.

“Are you thinking if you should kiss me or hug me?” You laugh when he looks at you bewildered.

“Are you reading my mind?”

You lean forward, a whisper on you, “It’s a secret superpower I have.” The both of you chuckle and before he can register it, you stand on your toes, pressing a quick kiss onto his cheek. You open the door to your car as he blushes profoundly, “Normally I don’t kiss on the first date, the one on the cheek is just a guilty pleasure, because you’re cute.”

Osamu knew from the beginning that the competition shouldn’t have been one to worry about. What he should have been worried about was how cute the owner was.

“Uh-oh, here comes leader of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your workers snicker seeing him strut into the café, “Good morning mister Miya.”

“I have a complaint.” Osamu crosses his arms, eyes staring at you. He leans forward, “I’d prefer it if you kept your hair down.” His fingers pull on the ribbon in your hair, your strands fall to your shoulders.

On your toes, your lips meet his from over the counter; there’s a hum in him, “We take complaints here very seriously.” You steal the ribbon from his fingers, “But you know I can’t be walking around with my hair down.”

“I have a solution.” He situates a hat that he’s made appear out of no where onto your head. He pushes strands of your hair behind your ears and fixes the hat’s strap to fit nicely onto your head, “Perfect.”

You roll your eyes to your boyfriend, “It says Onigiri Miya on the hat doesn’t it.”

Osamu happily claps his hands, “Product placement.”

“You’re so shameless!” You set the drink in front of him, “Cash or card?”

Osamu scoffs, “You’re making me pay now?”

“Yup.” You wink to him, “It’s what boyfriends do.”

“You boyfriend trapped me with free matcha coffee.” Osamu takes the drink, pressing a kiss on your lips quickly, “Put it on my tab.”

“You literally don’t have a tab, Samu!” He’s laughing as he runs away with the drink, turning around to blow you a kiss before running off to his restaurant to prepare for the lunch rush.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu scenarios #osamu miya #miya osamu

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