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gurugirl · 1 year

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Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together?

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy.

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy.

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

#gurugirl fic recs #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fic #my faves

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dungeonpuppykai · 14 days

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| Big Brother |

Description: Fermin does not like to share you with anyone.

Pairing: Dark Step-Brother!Fermin | Naive Step-Sister!You.

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction and does not represent Fermin Lopez in any way. It also contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dubcon/Noncon, Fermin is mean, dark!Fermin, infantilization, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, degradation, dacryphilia, dumbification, possessive!Fermin, obsessive behaviors, ddlg vibes.

Note: The Pedri one is gonna be much bigger as it has my favorite trope and Spanish man so it'll have to wait, unfortunately. Until then…

Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. He doesn't know when exactly his contempt for his step-father's daughter turned into this but he doesn't care. Nor does he try to rationalize it anymore.

You are his, as he is yours.

It's quite simple, really. You're family and no one can or should come between you. No one will ever be as sincere with you like your family– he is and being the naive little thing you are, you should know that big brother always knows best.

It doesn't matter even if he's younger than you.

Fermin says it's all about what's in the head.

And yours is as empty as a wooden doll's.

So you say nothing and simply whimper as your head lowers when he roughly drags you inside the house by your arm before taking you to his room. You want to speak up; tell him about the forgotten kid in the park that you're supposed to be babysitting.

But you know better than to speak when big brother is angry.

What he says goes.

And so you're bent over his study table within the next new minutes with your skirt pushed all the way up to your waist while you sob uncontrollably and take your punishment.

“I- I am sorry, big brother– ah!” Your back twists upwards when yet another ruthless rap resounds against your tender skin that is flush with a deep shade of red. “I- I swear! I was only helping Lucia swing– ouch!” A rough hiccup rips out of your throat when your brother refuses to show you any mercy. “Please!” Fermin is not in the mood to listen.

But he can never be wrong. Because he is big brother. So the fault is definitely yours. How many times has he told you not to speak to other boys? But you are one disobedient little sister! Big brother only wants what is best for you and to protect you because all boys except for him are pigs who only want to take advantage of you!

“I knew this job was a bad idea” your form stills and your blood runs cold. Slap. But no scream comes out of you this time. Oh no. “You're too little to be out by yourself let alone handle another kid” his voice is low; the deadly calm of his tone causing your knees to tremble. “I fucking knew it–”

“NO! NO BIG BROTHER, PLEASE!” You are absolutely powerless against him so if he pulls the plug on your job, no one will be able to let you keep it. “I swear! That boy came to me first! I swear! I have no idea who he was!”

Fermin grimaces as he clenches his already tense jaw so hard that it ticks. He lands another harsh spank on your quivering ass. Of course. You didn't even notice how that boy has been circling you and Lucia in the park for a few days now, having finally mustered the courage to speak to you only today as you are known as Fermin's sister.

“I am s- sorry…” You draw your words out as you feel him snatch the tatter of your panties away. “I promise I'll b- be better n- now, big bro-ther, p- please just- OH!” Your eyes squeeze shut as you break into another fit of sobs from the powerful slap that lands on your bare folds now.

“Tsk, how many times do I have to teach you the difference between punishment time and play time, huh little sis?” A loud squelching noise sounds in the air as he spreads your drenched pussy lips. “Shamelessly making a mess all over big brother's desk during her punishment like a silly little slut, tsk” the blood under your already flush cheeks bubbles as you whimper.

“S- Sorry, big brother…” Your toes curl as he goes about feeling up your mound. “C- Can't help…” Your teeth pull your bottom lip between them when one of his fingers start to toy with the sensitive band of your entrance. “P- Please… help…” Fermin has taught you to come to him whenever you feel funny between your legs because you have a serious condition that must be kept a secret if you don't want the scary hospital people to take you away from your home and big brother forever. Thankfully, he knows how to fix it so all you have to do is to go to him whenever it happens. Your big brother is the best, really. Because he doesn't help you like meanie doctors with bitter medicine but instead plays with you in an admittingly odd but fun way that is stranger than anything you've ever done but it is also what you can only describe as very nice at the same time.

“Tsk, are we in a position to make demands?” You wince at the way he scolds you before landing one last powerful smack to your pussy, making you cry aloud as you crash into the desk you are bent over from the force. “Disobeying big brother and putting yourself at risk and then whining about help, I spoil you too much, don't I little sis?” You bite your lip as you hear his fly go undone.

Oh God.

He takes you unprepared sometimes when he is angry or unhappy.

Today is going to be one of those days.

If only his junior -as he likes to refer to it- wasn't so big, you wouldn't be so scared.

Because his girth has nearly ripped you many a time.

“Whining for weeks because all your little friends were getting babysitting jobs and so you wanted to get one too…” Your fingers tightly curl around the edges of the desk as you feel his thick tip press against your entrance, his warm big hands clasping around your sides firmly. “Misbehaving with big brother and throwing all kinds of tantrums…” Well, yeah. You did give him the cold shoulder until he agreed. “Assuring him you would be fine only to do this–” his last words nearly melt into a hiss as he jerks his hips against yours with a powerful thrust and in comes plunging his hard shaft.

“BIG BROTHER!” A most vile moan escapes you as the upper half of your body goes limp over the smooth surface of the desk.

“Just imagine if I wasn't out front fixing my bike?” He is beginning to get breathless, huge cock moving between your channel of flesh and out of you slow yet rough. “And if I didn't save you in time?” A spank delivers onto your bruised ass but it is much lighter than all the other ones you have been subject to this evening. “Do you have any idea how badly that could have ended for you?” But his reproaches are no more than background buzz for you now. Your eyelids have gotten droopy and your senses are melting.

Big brother's dick is inside you and his thick veins angrily pulsate against your bare, sensitive flesh in the best way and that's all that matters.

“Hnnng” your lips feel dry as you bite down on them, your back arching and pussy squelching out a whine when he pulls out nearly all the way. “Big brother– AH!” His hands restrain you from moving along the force of his cock this time around so all of him can be buried deep within your cunt instead of your body slamming into the desk.

“Or maybe… big brother isn't enough for you now, huh? Is that it?” Your eyebrows furrow at his words as your eyes struggle to open because his movement is beginning to get frequent… and not in a nice way. “Is that why you're going around town like a stupid little slut with her silly little pussy in need of fixing?” Your body can't help but rock a little despite his hold on your hips as the stiff skin of his cock grazes against your sensitive flesh faster and faster with each thrust. When you continue to mewl and clench around him instead of answering, Fermin clicks his tongue before he lands a slap on one of your ass cheeks, his fingers coiling around your hair. “Well?!”

“N- No!” Your features twist in discomfort when you feel the band of your entrance forcefully expand around the base of his cock in order to accommodate his balls since your pussy is so wet and your walls so greedy that they want to devour all the dick he has to offer. “B- Big brother w- will always be e-nough for me!” Your neck cranes backwards as you feel him tug at your strands while his bottom half claps against yours loudly.

“That's fucking right” your mouth falls open when his tip works its way up your cunt and finds the spot where your nerves are sensitive today, the harsh thrust causing your head to spin. “And you better remember that the next time a silly little boy approaches you” neon stars began to appear in your vision as he moves you down and onto the table before his hands roughly move to your thighs, his hips violently snapping against yours all the while. The sound of the other side of the desk colliding with the wall next to it fills your hot ears as you feel Fermin spread your legs as far as they can go, his ballsack sinking into your sore yet much gratified entrance with each thrust now.

“Tell me you're mine” you feel him bend one of your legs before placing your knee on the table to access you even deeper. “Tell me you're all mine!”

“BIG BROTHER!” You are panting desperately like a bitch in heat, your tight insides on the verge of your first of many orgasms of the day. “I– AH! I AM– OH!” His fingers slip between your cunt and the smooth wooden top of the desk.

Fermin's back drapes over your back as you feel his lips hover over your ear, his coarse digits gliding across your slippery folds. “Say it and big brother will give you the cummies” he kisses the tear stains on your flushed face. “You like the cummies right?” He speaks to you like one does a child while obliterating you like you are his very own personal whore (you are). You vehemently nod, grunting and whining as you focus on holding yourself back because cumming without big brother's permission is prohibited and you are in enough trouble already.

“I AM Y- YOURS, BIG BROTHER! A- ALL YOURS! O- ONLY YOURS!” You scream out in agony, feeling yourself overcrowded, overstuffed and overstimulated all at once. “P- PLEA–”

Fermin loves your sobs of pure wanton. “Cum for big brother” as if a switch goes off, your orgasm barrages through you like a dam coming undone. Temporary vertigo fills your ears as your pussy tightly clenches around his hard shaft that is still pounding your seeping cunt just as hard. Your vision falters and your body gives up as the upper half of your body that you were barely keeping upright drops against the table with a soft thump.

Your body spasms as your toes curl from the overstimulation but you know better than to complain. Big brother does so much for your protection and pleasure, it is only fair that you returned the favor by being nice to him back. Yes, he is difficult to satiate and one cummie is never enough for him.

But taking care of each other is what family is all about.

… Right?

I appreciate feedback >.< Also I can't believe I neglected exam prep for this lmfaooo <3

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miley1442111 · 2 months

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remember me.- f.odair

a/n: MY FIRST FINNICK FIC. I love finnick so much, he's such a king. this wasn't intended for a fem! or male! reader so imagine what you like :))))

summary: after being taken by the capital you're brought back to district 13. you remember the real finnick, right?

pairing: finnickodair x reader

warnings: general hunger games topics, feeling broken, mentions of pain and hurt, mentions of wounds and general capital hijacking.

You sat up in your hospital bed, a familiar brokenness in your mind. Who were you?

You were a victor. You were a capital darling. You were a product.

You felt the restraints on your wrists and sighed in discomfort. When would you be free? When would you ever be allowed to live? You knew someone had taught you that dream, the dream of being free, but you couldn’t remember who. He had… blonde hair? White teeth? A sweet tooth? You had also been taught that that same man had hurt you, that he’d left you to the capital, left you to die.

The images and pictures of your broken and bruised body they’d shown you. Shown what he’d done to you. They flashed in and out of your brain, a constant torment. Everyday he visited you, but never came in. You could see him against the glass, watching you cry and scream. Watching you beg and plead for them to take him away.

You had been badly beaten, at least that’s what you’d heard from the nurses. You had broken bones and stab wounds, and severe mental damage. They assumed you had been sleep deprived, psychologically abused, and ‘hijacked’.

A woman walked into the room, a kind smile on her face, and behind her was the man. The man who'd left you to the capital.

“Please,” you begged. “Please don’t let him in, I-I didn’t do anything, I-I th-thought it was s-safe here. Why is he here?!” Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded with the nurse and he started crying too. Why was he crying? He hurt you. Right?

“Darling, please,” he pleaded, clenching his hands. “Remember me.”

“Y-you hurt me…” you trailed off, a real memory coming back, one of him and you at a beach. Him running up to you with a surfboard under his arm, the warm sun on your skin, making the swimsuit you were wearing bearable. He smiled at you and kissed you, then brought you to the water and helped you onto his board, teaching you to surf. When you fell he’d held you to him and kissed you, whispering words of encouragement and making bad jokes to bring a smile to your face. His hair was soft, even when it was wet.

Soft, that’s what he was. Your finnick was soft.

Then everything came back, all at once. Finnick had fought tooth and nail to save you, but couldn’t get to you in time, he had to be pulled off of the person taking you away, just to keep him safe. “Finnick?” You shouted and his face whipped up, shock evident. “Finnick, you’re ok!” You braced your hands against the restraints and the nurse quickly unlocked them. He stalked over, picking you up in a tight embrace. It hurt, the bruises and wounds on your skin, and the broken bones inside all ached to be left alone. But he wouldn’t put you down. You didn’t want him to. “You’re ok,” you repeated, trying to convince yourself of the fact. Finnick was ok. Finnick was here. Finnick was here to keep you safe. You were safe again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry darling, I couldn’t get to you in time- I-I shouldn’t have-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips. This kiss was a promise. A promise that you would be together no matter what. That any flaws or shortcomings would be forgotten and dismissed. A promise that you loved each other. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, tears falling from his pretty eyes, you brushed them away and kissed his cheek. “We’re ok again.”

“We’re ok again,” you echoed, a sense of determination for your dream. Your dream of freedom.

#finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #hunger games finnick #finnick x you #thg finnick #finnick odair #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #thg series

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panda-writes-kpop · 1 month

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Hiiii hope your having a wonderful day. I enjoy reading your scenarios especially dreamcatcher and aespa. Which made me wonder if I can request aespa as your pirate GF :o

Pirate! Aespa as Your Girlfriend

a/n: Thank you for the lovely message, anon! I'm so glad you love my aespa and dreamcatcher stuff 🫶 and of course you can, dear! Hopefully, you enjoy this! Obligatory tag of @foolish-sparrow ❤️ can't write about pirates without acknowledging the Pirate AU queen! Please check out all of her stuff because it's all so amazing 🫶🫶 also I tried something new with the banners, so let me know if you like it or not!

tw: it's in order of how the girls are introduced in the Pirate AU fic universe (no, I have not forgotten about Giselle or Ningning I will be getting back to them plz have patience with me 🫠) instead of age order, booze and drunken activities, violence, pirating and other forms of stealing

♡ Masterlist ♡

Winter ~ The Captain

she's always busy as the Captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, either trying to corral her crew (mostly Karina and Giselle) or find the next place or ship to plunder.

but for you? she has all of the time in the world.

You're very famously known as her soft spot on the crew, and people will use it to their advantage.

Of course she knows this, but if you're going to continue to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear... she'll let the shenanigans slide, for now.

Winter likes to show you off, whether by letting you commit the finishing blow on an opponent or giving you a chance to show off your own unique set of skills

Most of the time you spend together is at night when you're out at sea.

She'll be busy looking over the a map or checking some coordinates when you wrap your arms around her waist

a rare smile appears on her face as you state out at the open ocean together.

"Where are we going, my lovely Captain?"

"As long as you're by my side, wherever the seas take us, my dear."

Karina ~ The Marksman

the loser (affectionate) marksman by day, the greasy (slightly drunk) flirt by night finds herself changing her ways as you two enter a serious relationship.

Karina feels much more comfortable being her dorky, usual self when it's just the two of you alone, but as your relationship progresses, more and more people see a different side of her

if you aren't a marksman like her, she takes you to a local shooting range and teaches you everything you need to know

"You need to aim a little higher on the target, otherwise you won't do much more than give them a good scare."

"I'd love to focus my aim, Karina, but you're making my heart pound when you're this close to me."

Karina is well-known on her crew for her drunken antics, especially with the various people she meets during her travels

It all stops with you - either you're watching her to make sure she doesn't get absolutely wasted, or you're the one participating in her antics while you're both drunk.

If it's the first option, you're able to pull her away from the bar with lots of affectionate or promises of stronger booze on the ship (you just send her straight to bed, and she's too tired to argue)

If it's the latter, you two often find yourselves cleaning the decks in order to avoid Winter's wrath due to the shitstorm that you usually cause.

But hey, at least you have someone to cuddle with as you nurse your hangover away.

Giselle ~ The Arms Specialist/Mapmaker

Pulling double duty on the ship takes a toll on the amount of free time Giselle has, but when she has a free night, you can be sure that she's living it up, especially with you at her side.

You'll literally have her heart forever if you help her with her daily tasks, she's so stressed out with everything on her plate.

Depending on your specialties, you're either marking the map or helping with coordinates, or you're cleaning up gun powder and restocking the gunroom with newly pillaged supplies.

It works in Giselle's favor because she always can find a reason to talk with you when you're working on similar tasks.

"Do you need some help, darling?"

"I think I can handle myself, Giselle, but I don't mind the company."

After the ship has docked and the sun has disappeared from the sky, Giselle is finally free from most of her responsibilities.

She's dragging you to the nearest bar, either to hustle some of the crew at cards or to grab a few drinks.

You tell her that it's unfair to play cards against people you can't even sit straight, but you find that your concerns are silenced when a bottle of your favorite liquor is sitting at your side.

And if you're just grabbing drinks with her, she's sure to tell you how much she loves you (and all of the awesome pirating stories you missed out on before you started dating).

Ningning ~ The "Rogue" Mercenary

The quiet, withdrawn "misfit" in the crew isn't drawn to having a friendly relationship to many on the crew, except for you, of course.

She hasn't fully adjusted to the pirating life, considering that she joined the crew after being held captive by them, so she often is quietly looking over your shoulder to understand how to be more useful aboard the ship

"You can come closer, it's easier to learn how to tie a knot when you can see what I'm doing."

"I can see fine from where I'm at, but thank you for the offer."

You invite her to many of the crew's nighttime activities, and it's rare for her to accept, but when she does, you see her cracking a smile and occasionally laughing at everyone's antics.

Ningning likes spending time with you one-on-one, and that's when she confesses her feelings for you.

Literally no one knows that the two of you are together, except for a drunk Karina that saw the two of you embrace one night (and no one believes her, to this day).

She doesn't like to teach you her trade, she went through a lot of shit to get her skills, but she will show you how to fight if you aren't the greatest at it.

You'll just have to put your pride to the side because she will beat your ass, every time, without fail.

Plus, she can steal a kiss or two while she has you pinned to the ground. She lectures you about not being distracted with a smirk on her face, as if it isn't her fault.

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sapphic-pikachu · 1 year

Text

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Arthur makes good on his promise to teach you how to shoot. You struggle with this time alone with him due to your seemingly unrequited feelings for him.

Warnings: sfw, guns, shooting, bullets, me not knowing anything about guns so being intentionally vague about them, reader and Arthur are both fools, kissing, Arthur and reader are touched starved, physical affection

A/N: @sharinkashaf Fucking please let Arthur teach reader how to shoot. ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for the idea for this one! also thank you for all the love on my first one shot that I posted the other day, I will be working on a part 2 for it! please if you have any ideas or things you want to see me write for Arthur let me know! once again, warning that it has been years since I’ve last written anything so it’s not perfect

You smirked into your coffee mug as the high pitched whines of Sean’s complaints sounded around camp. You had been half sitting on one of the camps tables, watching as Tilly had defeated Sean in dominoes for what must have been the fifth time in a row. Despite Sean’s insistence that the younger girl must have been cheating, or was secretly a professional dominos player, his words were met with rolling of eyes and laughter as the games continued.

There was a good mood sunken over the camp that morning. It had seemed like you had all reached a string of good luck - for once, you didn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The donation box was full, people were smiling amongst themselves and even the coffee didn’t taste as bad as it normally did.

You knew who this all was thanks to. For weeks, Arthur had been slaving himself, constantly out of camp and on missions, scouting out new resources and pulling through with every plan Dutch had given him. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him, but you willed yourself not to turn to look for him, even though you had noted his absence near the centre of camp all morning. Silently, you prayed that wherever he was, he was able to take advantage of the peacefulness in camp that he had helped bring about.

A hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump and loose grip of your coffee mug. With one hand still on your shoulder, Arthur swooped in and grabbed your mug before it could clatter to the ground. Speak of the devil, you thought - you didn’t dare say it out loud, not wanting the man to know how at home he was in your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” he said, his body so close to yours’ that it felt like he was whispering directly into your ear.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your coffee mug and what little coffee remained in it was forgotten as Arthur set it on the table you rested by.

“S’alright. Didn’t startle me too bad.” you replied, craning your head to look up at him from your close proximity. Arthur just stared back at you, seemingly in thought.

“You need something?” You asked, suddenly aware that any moment longer in this position might have you spontaneously combust into flames.

Arthur blinked, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. His lack of touch made the spot on your shoulder where his hand had sat feel cold.

“Was just wondering if you’d be free. Shooting practice. Like I’d promised you.”

You remembered this promise vividly. You had been certain that he hadn’t though. It had been weeks since that talk. You had been running with the gang for close to a year now. While you were good at pickpocketing and scamming out drunk men, you were deeply aware that your gun work needed immense practice. There had been more than a few close calls that frightened you by now, ones that would have frightened you less had you been more skilled in shooting. Your skills were passable - you could pull the trigger on the gun enough times to scare off more passive enemies but you were slow to draw and even slower to hit where you wanted to. After a few drinks round the camp fire, you had confessed this insecurity to Arthur. You weren’t sure why him. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was the best gunman in camp by far. Maybe because you were hopelessly in love with him.

You took a deep breath to try simmer down the swell of emotion in your chest. He had drunk that night too - you were certain that his promise to make you a better shooter was just the alcohol speaking.

“We’ll make a proper gunslinger of you yet, darlin’.” he had slurred, before chugging another sip of whiskey and passing you the bottle. When you drank from the bottle after him, you did it slowly: it wasn’t just the whiskey you’d wanted a taste of now.

“I’m free. I’ll just go get my horse ready-”

“Ain’t no need. We won’t go far, we can just go on mine if it’s alright with you.” he interrupted, breaking his stare from you to peer off at nothing beside him. His hand rubbed at where his shirt collar touched his neck as he waited for your response. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“S’alright with me. Where we going?” At your confirmation, he began to walk off with you beside him towards where his mare stood.

“I set up some targets in the clearing east of ‘ere earlier this morning. Empty enough we’ll not be heard, but still close enough to camp that we won’t be bothered by anyone,” He replied, setting up a layer of blanket just behind his saddle on his horse, “You alright sitting behind?”

You would sit anywhere as long as it let you be close to him. You didn’t tell him that - you just hummed a yes and watched as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sitting slightly farther forward than he usually would.

He held out his hand and you accepted it, trying to ignore how small you felt in his grasp. You have yourself a boost with one leg in the empty stirrups, and flung your other leg over the horse.

“Sitting alright?” He asked. Your hand was still in his, his finger closed over yours with his thumb gently dragging up and down your hand in a way that weirdly comforted you. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but it was increasingly difficult for you not to.

“Yeah, m’fine.” You responded. You felt like your whole body was on fire. Your chest was pressed up against his back, your knees pressing against his upper thighs to secure your place on the horse.

Arthur’s thumb stopped moving as if it suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding your hand. He released it, grabbing his horse’s rope and grunting a response back to you. With your hands now free, you placed them underneath his bent arms, gingerly clutching onto his waist. If your touch had bothered him, Arthur did not say.

Your journey to the clearing was uneventful and quiet. An uneasy anxiety settled over your stomach. You had wished that Arthur could have a day of peace, but here he was, having to teach you how to shoot because you were too bad of a shot to protect yourself. You felt bad that you had pressured him into this. You felt bad that he was always made to look after everyone in camp all of the time. You felt bad that despite this, all you could think about was the feeling of his stomach underneath your fingertips as your arms wrapped around his waist.

His horse came to a stop and you could see what Arthur had been doing all morning. Crates had been stacked up around a tree, the various heights of the crates displaying different sizes and shapes of tins and glass bottles. The bottles had been placed in the branches of the tree itself, with shards of glass strung up, hanging down from the tree by strands of a thin rope. The sun shone down on the tree, reflecting the colours of the glass onto the ground, a mirage of different colours.

“Wow. This looks great Arthur. Like a proper shootin’ range an’ all.” You said to him as he stood on the grass beside you, helping you down from his horse.

“S’nothin’. Just took a lil’ time this morning.” He looked away from you, pulling his hand away from yours once your feet were steady on the ground. He rubbed at his neck again.

“It ain’t nothing, Arthur. Must’ve took some time. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry, I know you got better things to be doing.” It was getting hard to swallow with how full your heart felt.

Arthur turned his head back to you at your words. His brow furrowed as he began to speak.

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry about. There ain’t nothing better for me to do but to spend time with you.” Arthur froze slightly at the end of his sentence, as if he had said something he didn’t mean to say. A slight blush spread across his face and he looked away from you again.

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

Arthur nodded before turning and getting his pistol out of his saddle bag behind you. Upon a further glance, you realised it wasn’t his usual pistol at all. It was new you thought, a shiny Schofield Revolver with a pearl handle and gold metal. Something was engraved onto the frame, but in the reflection of the sun you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Arthur passed you the gun and a hand full of bullets, indicating for you to get the gun ready. Thankfully, this was something you didn’t need taught - after finishing, you hand the gun back to Arthur where he inspects it and hums out a response.

He passes you back the gun and begins walking closer to the tree. As you follow him, you note that he’s created a guideline in the grass of where the stand, with another stack of creates beside it. He sits down on the crates and nods for you to stand in position on the grass.

“I just want to see what we’re working with first - aim for the glass bottles on the second row if you can,” He says, leaning back on the crate and taking out an apple from his bag. He starts to cut it into slices with his knife, eating it piece by piece.

You hold the gun in front of you with two hands. You’re trembling slightly. You hate the fact that he’s watching you. More than that, you hate the fact that he’s watching you and you don’t know what he’s thinking.

The sound and recoil of the gun makes you jump slightly. You miss any bottle completely, the bullet skimming into the vacant air beside the crates. You shoot again, less shocked by the recoil this time, but still an awful shot. Again, you shoot, this time hitting the corner of one of the crates. It’s still no where near where your aiming, but you’re hitting something so you can’t help but feel slightly proud. You shoot, again, again, again. You manage to hit a tin can four objects down from the bottle you aim for on the second row. Your ears are ringing in your head and your hands feel tight from their grip around the gun. From behind you, you hear Arthur come towards you from his place on the crate. He’s good at going unnoticed when he wants to despite his large size, but now, he makes his presence known to you, his chest skimming your back.

“Right foot backwards, steady yourself.” He’s leaning his head down to speak directly to your ear. Your heart beats a little bit quicker but you follow his request, moving your right leg slightly backwards till it connects with his. You position your foot right in front of his. His left leg adjusts to settle right behind your left one. Your breathing gets a bit quicker also.

“Need you completely straight. Always facing towards where your aiming to match up your sights.” His voice rings in your head. Need you, need you, need you. His hands land on either side of your waist, swivelling you slightly to face you completely towards the tree, your legs staying in the same position supported by the feeling of his behind you. You think his hands stay on your waist a few seconds longer than they should do.

He guides his hands up to your shoulders. He moves them slightly too, more gentle than anyone who’s ever met him would ever expect him to be capable of. Except you. From the day you’d met Arthur, you knew exactly what he would be capable of, despite his insistence that he was a bad man. But you knew: a bad man would not be spending his day holding you so close and so gently like this for no benefit of his own.

He grabs each of your hands with his own from underneath your arms. He’s holding them up, supporting you, slightly stretching forward now to position the gun in front of you. His front is fully pressed up against you. You can feel it now - his own heartbeat is just as quick as yours.

His head is resting against yours, his neck craning down to adjust to your smaller size in comparison to his.

Together, as one, you lift the gun to aim at the bottle on the second row. His finger wraps around yours to guide you into pulling the trigger. He speaks again, so close to you he’s almost apart of you, his voice meant for nothing else except for speaking to you.

“Breathe in as you aim. Keeps you still,” You do as he tells you, feeling his own chest expand behind you and you breath together, “Shoot on the exhale. You got this sweetheart.”

You exhale at the same time as him, the heaviness of your breaths cancelled out by the loud bang as the shot rings out. You hear a splinter and crack as your bullet collides with its target. Not dead centre, but you’ve hit it, and that’s good enough. If you were so preoccupied on steadying your heartbeat at the feeling of Arthur pressing against you, you might have cried out in triumph.

“Good girl.” Arthur whispers to you. You aren’t sure if it’s the sound of the bullets ringing in your ears or his voice anymore. You know that because you can feel his heartbeat in his chest behind you, he can feel yours too. You know that the smirk you feel spread across his face as he presses against the side of your head is because he can feel how his praise made your heart skip another beat.

You keep shooting like that; Arthur guiding you with his own body and you hitting every target every time. After a while Arthur pulls his arms back from yours. You almost deflate at his absence but he doesn’t remove himself from your back. Instead he places his hands on your waist and tells you to keep going.

When you shoot again, Arthur’s lack of guidance is noticeable - but not extremely. You’re better than you were, the bullet landing a centimetre off from the tin can you now aim for. You shoot again creating a whole just off the centre of the can. You shoot again, the bullet disappearing seamlessly into the previous hole. Arthur squeezes at your hips as you grin.

It continues on like that: you shoot, more often than not hitting the target spot on or hitting it on your second try, and Arthur, a constant behind you squeezing his hands in congratulations on your waist, inching them closer and closer until eventually he has almost enveloped you completely in a backwards hug. He murmurs appreciation every so often, and your heart has stopping beating a little quicker every time this happens. In fact, his mere presence has made your constant heartbeat so fast already that there is little change.

The gun clicks, the chamber empty. You’re scared to breathe, worried that any sudden move will scare Arthur out of your arms, like a prey spotting it’s hunter. But it’s Arthur who breaks the stillness, removing his hands from your waist to bring your arms down to your chest, the gun still clutched between your hands. His arms come to clutch around your waist again, circling you completely as his hands meet by your stomach. You feel him swallow heavily. In this moment, there is nothing else in the world but him behind you and his hands round your waist.

You hold the gun in one hand and with the other you gently place it over his hands on your stomach: you’re scared that as you spin in place on your feet to face him that he’ll move away, so you hold his hands in place.

You can’t meet his eyes, looking at his chest and downwards as you place the gun from your hand into his holster around his waist. It’s your turn to swallow heavily now.

As you raise your gaze to look at his face, you find him already staring at you. You are still, desperately away of his hands, now settled low on the small of your back.

“That was great work there.” He says, not breaking eye contact with you as his voice barely breaks past a whisper.

“I had a great teacher.” You whisper back. He smiles at that, and you smile back as though you’ve just shared a secret meant just for the two of you. As the blue of his eyes brighten in the sun, you think that maybe you have.

His head tilts downwards, just barely enough to notice it. But you notice. You’ve always noticed every detail about Arthur, just as he’s always noticed you.

“Please.” You ask him, voice quiet and pleading as you break his stare to glance towards his lips.

He answers.

You’re practically on your toes, supported by his tightened grip around your back. His mouth connects to yours, gently and unsure at first. You hand comes up to rest against the side of his face, the other holding on to the collar of his shirt, brushing against his neck. At this, his kiss deepens, pulling you tighter against him. You use your grip on his collar to do the same, pulling yourself as close as you can into his chest.

After the moment passes, you both pull apart. He rests his forehead against yours. He’s breathing heavily, eventually chuckling out a laugh on the exhale.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.” You can hear the smile in his voice with your eyes still closed. His hands on your back, his forehead against yours. You feel like every atom in your body is on fire. For a while, he had said. For a while, you thought back, that I have been missing out on every moment like this.

“Should’ve done it sooner, then. Thought it was just me feeling like this.” You said, a deep sigh erupting from your chest. He can hear the smile in your voice too.

One hand leaves it place at your waist to hold your face. Не pulls further away to look down at you. He’s still smiling.

“And I thought it was just me.”

There’s a little bit of an ache in your chest. A bit of sadness on how long you both had wasted hiding away from each other. But neither of you are hiding now. You press your palm against his chest and feel his heart beat under his shirt. It’s fast, just like yours.

A moment passes before you both realise there is more than each other left in the word. The sky has darkened considerably, the sun settling in the early evening. Neither of you had eaten and you were both starting to feel a hunger for something other than each other.

“We should probably head back to camp.” You say, still unmoving from your proximity to him. Neither of you want to leave this moment.

“Probably. And you can show off everything you’ve learnt today.” He says. He still cradles your face in his hands, his thumb moving softly back and forth on the apple of your cheek.

“Everything I’ve learnt?” You smirk up at his, loosing your previous fixation of your hand on his chest. He chuckles, and he feel the movement of his chest course right through you.

“Maybe not everything.” He replies, his eyes soft as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel the moment come to a close. Not wanting to waste any last second you could spend alone with Arthur like this, after having missed out on so many others in the past, you cling to every bit of it. Before either of you can detach from the other, you grab him by his shirt collar again and pull him down for another kiss.

Additional Content:

You both depart from Arthur’s horse a little before necessary as you make the journey back to camp. The horse clambers along behind you both. You’re both pensive and quiet, but when your hand grazes against his from it’s place by your side, Arthur grasps it and keeps it intertwined with his. You walked further before Arthur’s stops to a sudden holt, his grip on your hand forcing you to stop with him.

“Almost forgot.” He murmured, looking bashful as his cheeks blushed red. He reached down with his other hand, not loosing his hold on your hand, grabbing hold of the pistol you had practiced with and holding it out to you.

You aren’t sure what he means so you respond by raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for him to expand.

“S’a gift. For you. Got it custom in town for ya.” He’s still blushing but he manages to glance into your eyes. He’s searching for something, and you realise he’s worried about how you’ll respond.

You can see the engraving on the gun more clearly now as it rests in his hand. Flowers, your favourite, blooming up through an imprint on the outside of the metal. Your name intertwines with the flowers, the letters flowing into the blossoming leaves.

You reach out towards his outstretched hand, but instead of grabbing the pistol you clasp your hand together with his and pull yourself towards him. You press a small kiss to his lips and as you pull away you smile at him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say looking up at him, hoping he found what he was searching for before, “for everything.

#rdr x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan #Arthur Morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

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amostimprobabledream · 6 months

Note

I just found your blog and I am EXTREMELY IN LOVE with how you write Claude. Thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏

If you take request, I'd love to see a jealous Claude of some sort. Or Claude having a crush on you and he wants to be very tactical about it but fails because for once he also stumbles over his words.

~🌻🌻🌻

Hello Sunflower anon! I promise I hadn't forgotten your ask, I just didn't want to respond until I had something to show for it. Now, here it is! Hope you enjoy! :)

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52063906

Out of the corner of his eye, Claude found himself watching you.

The Leicester Alliance might not have been as...enthusiastic in their celebrations as the kind of feasts that went down in Almyra, but they still knew how to host a party when the situation called for it. The buffet table groaned with a banquet of food that would have been unthinkable just a year or so ago and everyone was dressed in their best outfits, determined to finally enjoy some splendour after fighting their way through some of the bleakest days in living memory.

You were working the room, the goldenrod gown you were wearing rustling across the polished marble floors. He wondered if you had picked out that colour for any particular reason – was it simply because it looked nice on you, or was it some kind of message? A code, if you will.

“A woman’s outfit isn’t just for practicalities, Claude!” He heard Hilda’s voice chiming in his head, something she’d told him once in the old days at the Academy, when he’d once asked why she bothered to wear perfume and earrings to a mock battle. “When you pick out your clothing, you’re making a statement about who you are! And not just the girls – look around you sometime if you don’t believe me!”

He’d been sceptical of this claim initially, but after that conversation, Claude had found himself paying closer attention to how his fellow Golden Deer and other students wore their uniforms and had been both surprised and intrigued to see that Hilda had been right. It was in the little things, like Hilda’s skirt being as short as she could possibly get away with without incurring the wrath of Seteth, while Marianne made sure her uniform covered as much as herself as possible, like she was using the fabric to hide in. Then you had Sylvain with his sleeves rolled up and his hair messy, like he’d just rolled out of bed and couldn’t be bothered to button up the cuffs or front of his jacket. Then you had Lorenz and that ridiculous rose he always wore pinned to his lapel…

Speaking of Lorenz and his questionable choice in accessories, Claude spied the man himself across the room…and there you were, laughing at something he was saying.

An unfamiliar knot of irritation tightened in Claude’s chest, which was ridiculous…Lorenz was your old classmate, after all, so why wouldn’t you be catching up with him? There was plenty to catch up on, after all, especially now that the wore was officially over and Fodlan could breath a sigh of relief…

Yet he still didn’t like the way Lorenz was staring at you, like he’d discovered a rare new species of flower or bird. No doubt you looked even more lovely close up, but Claude wondered if you remembered what Lorenz used to be like around female students at Garreg Mach, to the point that Teach herself had to step in. As the sun poured into the room, catching on the jewellery you were wearing around your neck and in your ears, Claude couldn’t help but wonder what you had been thinking when you chose them, if each item was a tool in your arsenal to be deployed at the key moment…

“Stare, much?”

Claude jolted and turned to see Hilda, who was unsurprisingly in a resplendent pink gown that was clinging lovingly to her curves – if she was trying to convey a message with her outfit, then “Look at me!” seemed to be the end result.

“Hilda!” Claude greeted her, shooting her an easygoing smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “I see that you’re already enjoying the festivities.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to enjoy around here,” Hilda said airily. “But I have to say, you’re not looking as happy as the hero of the hour should be. Are you wishing you’d stayed home in Almyra?”

It was still so strange to hear the other half of him spoken aloud so casually, when he’d been hiding it so painstakingly for five years. Yet it came with an undeniable surge of relief.

“My home is here and Almyra.” Claude replied diplomatically. “Anyway, you think I’d pass up an opportunity to see everyone all together again?”

“Hmm, that’s true.” Hilda nodded, sipping from her glass of champagne. “This is a prime time to start forging diplomatic relations, isn’t it? Looks like those two over there are already making inroads.”

Hilda tilted her head, pink hair slipping off her shoulder, an amused little smile playing about her lips, like she knew something Claude didn’t. She’d always been able to see through him, and vice versa.

So no doubt Hilda had noticed the way that, no matter who Claude was talking to, his eyes kept wandering back to you, tracking you all about the ballroom as though he was worried that the moment he wasn’t making sure you were still there, you might just disappear.

“I thought the war taught you that sometimes you can’t just stand back and watch before you make a move.” Hilda remarked.

“It did.” Claude replied evenly, his green eyes growing half-lidded as Lorenz put his hand on your waist.

“Then go and talk to her! It’s not cute to stand around pouting at your age, you know.”

“Ha! You’re one to talk – you’ll be pouting to get your way until you’re an old lady.” Claude said, imagining an eighty-year-old Hilda in pigtails. “And I know.”

“Good, because it’s so exhausting trying to play matchmaker.” Hilda said, with an affected hair toss, before she spotted someone across the room and gave them a dainty little wave, her fingers fluttering.

“Oh, there’s Caspar! I promised him a dance!” she lilted, before swanning away, the scent of her perfume wafting behind her – Claude caught a whiff of anemones.

“Bet that’s not all you promised.” He murmured under his breath.

Nevertheless, Claude heeded her advice, because as spacy as she might have liked to seem, Hilda was a startlingly perceptive woman under her ditzy attitude. He strode across the room, boots clicking on the polished floors, surging ahead before he could start doing what he always did. Running through various scenarios in his head like he was figuring out his next move in chess, making contingency plans, scheming. It was his fall-back from when he was a scrawny young boy, hiding in the shadows from those who sought to harm him that he couldn’t possibly retaliate against physically. Old habits died hard, despite everything.

“Lorenz! I see your fashion sense has improved since our school days! Well, somewhat.” Claude said in a cheery voice as he approached the two of you. “Remember how people used to ask if you’d tried to cut your hair with an axe?”

“May I remind you, Claude, that you wore the same uniform as me back then?” Lorenz sighed, but it lacked the genuine irritation it once did.

“I see you still like yellow, though.” You said to Claude, turning your head to smile at him, though that smile was teetering on being a smirk.

Claude’s mouth went dry.

“So do you.” He replied. He didn’t mean to say that; it just popped out before he could stop himself. It was unlike Claude to be so concise with his wording, he had always tended to err on the side of verbosity, yet…

Your smile widened and heat spread across your cheeks, and his own mouth curved in a smirk.

“Yes, well, we were just about to dance-“ Lorenz said haughtily, seeming not to notice your reaction to Claude’s comment, and the latter gave a wince of faux-sympathy.

“Ooh, sorry, Duke of Gloucester, but she already promised the next one to me. Did she not say? Ah, for shame, my lady!”

“Oh, right, yeah,” you said, before quickly turning your head to Lorenz. “Apologies, do excuse me. But you know, if you’re looking for a dance partner, why not ask Marianne? She’s been standing over there by herself a while, it would probably be nice for her to see a face she recognises.”

“Ah, yes, what a good idea!” Lorenz said, his face brightening at the suggestion, turning to look across the ballroom. “I had to speak with her about Margrave Edmund’s proposition…”

He wandered off, still muttering under his breath, though it was obvious neither you nor Claude cared whatsoever what he was talking about. Instead, Claude offered a hand with a slightly mocking edge to it, unable to resist bucking against convention.

“Shall we?”

You accepted his hand and he lead you into the middle of the room where several people were dancing, and he saw Hilda shoot him a grin as Caspar somewhat clumsily whirled her around in a blur of pink and blue. Claude rested one of his hands on the small of your back and though the contact was hardly anything risqué, it still sent a bolt of delight through you.

“So you really did mean to dance.” You remarked, falling into step with him almost without thinking about it. You’d been instructed how to dance for formal events like this by your parents when you were younger and as much of an irritating chore as they’d felt at the time, it was like second nature now.

“What else could I have meant?” Claude replied, lifting one hand to twirl you around. “I could have challenged you to a duel, I suppose, but neither of us seem dressed for the occasion.”

“Well, for a second there, I thought you were just going to start grunting and throw me over your shoulder.” You teased, as he pulled you in again. “That was quite the glare you were giving Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.”

“Do you want to be thrown over my shoulder?” Claude asked, tilting his head. “Or would that put a dampener on all your schmoozing?”

“Forging important political alliances, you mean.” You corrected Claude with a smirk. “Goodness, Claude. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were purposefully trying to induce a little jealousy.” Claude replied, eyes sliding down to your lips.

You tilted your chin up, defiantly.

“And if I was?”

There was a small silence, a verbal gauntlet thrown down, and Claude looked at you with an expression that made your insides twist. He reached his free hand out and twined a lock of your hair around his finger, his expression thoughtful.

“Then I’m afraid you’re just going to have to suffer the consequences.”

“Claude…Claude!”

You were sweating. Heated kisses and a warm, muscular body pressing you to the wall would do that to a person. Along with the fact that you were only on the other side of the room from the entire ballroom – if somebody left to get a little fresh air, for example, they might well stumble on the scene of the new Duke of House Riegan kissing you against the wall like a naughty schoolboy. You pulled back, feeling a little dazed.

“I know you like to make risky moves, Claude, but isn’t this a bit much?” you said, a touch breathlessly.

Claude laughed softly, breath tickling your cheek as he moved in closer, pressing his lips to your neck.

“I consider the pros to outweigh the cons in this specific scenario.” He replied in a murmur.

“Which are?” You giggled.

“Pros: I get to put my hands on you,” Claude replied, sucking hard on the skin of your throat, making you gasp. “Cons: Someone might see me put my hands on you.”

“Then why are you doing this in a place where the cons could become a real possibility?” You asked, though you knew the answer already – you just wanted to know if he’d admit to it.

“If you want a gamble to have the best possible payoff, then you have to make sure the risk is big enough.” Claude replied with a wry smile, his fingers squeezing your hips. “Anyway, I didn’t hear you doing much maidenly protesting. Though your mouth was quite occupied at the time…”

You laughed and pulled him down for another kiss, because he was quite right, of course – knowing that other people were there, mooning for someone else across the room but not daring to make a move, or chastely dancing together while secretly wishing they could do so much more, gave you an adrenaline rush you hadn’t felt since you were standing on a battlefield so many months ago. These thrills were less likely to come with the potential cost of your life, but they were exciting in an entirely new way.

“Claude…” you mumbled, leaning into him, resting your hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your palms. It was true you’d wanted to get his attention today – he’d been away in Almyra for months and you’d missed him. Missed his laugh, the easy way he could banter with just about anyone, the sharp line of his jaw and the particular shade of green of his eyes…perhaps going around in a dress the same colour as that cape of his was a little on the nose, but it seemed to have worked.

“Mm?” he seemed preoccupied with your earrings, taking one and giving it a playful little tug, an emerald sparkling between his teeth.

“How long exactly is the hero of the Leicester Alliance expected to stay at the ball until he can flee into the sunset?” you asked, tilting your head.

"Flee? Is that how you see me? Some coward who's always running away at the drop of a hat?” Claude asked, holding a hand to his chest in a parody of shock. "I'm not Bernadetta!"

“I wouldn’t call you a coward,” you said, then paused. “But you do tend to rush from place to place without giving people a chance to say goodbye.”

Understanding dawned across his face, and he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle.

“I had things to do. But I always intended to come back.” He said, simply. It wasn’t easy feeling torn between two things all the time, but he had hope that now, he could finally act as a whole for the first time in his life.

“Still, a word or two would have been nice…” You said, a little churlishly, unwilling to melt under his touch just yet, not wanting to give up your grievances so easily. You didn’t consider yourself the type to be pining over anyone, but Claude von Riegan wasn’t just anyone.

And here was something you loved about Claude, one of the many things – instead of getting exasperated or defensive at your stubbornness, your unwillingness to just sink into the moment, into him, a slow smile spreads across his face, honey-sweet.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He cooed, cupping your face. “Did you miss me that much?”

The sting of his teasing was mitigated by the way he kissed you next, soft and sensually, the scruff of his beard rubbing against your skin, but you didn’t care, you were too busy kissing him back, lips tingling, sighing against him as his hands squeezed your waist like he didn’t want to let go.

“You know, I think I might be able to make it up to you.” Claude said breathlessly, when you both finally paused for ear. Some of your lipstick was smudging his face and a perverse stab of pride poked you at the sight of it. “If you’re willing, that is.”

“That depends on what it is,” you replied, your lips tingling. You knew you were smiling despite your grumpy tone.

“Oh, you’ll like it. But we’d have to get on my wyvern to see it.” Claude replied, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “Think of it as an adventure.”

An adventure with Claude sounded…well, even a casual conversation with Claude could be exciting, he was the kind of person who could talk about any subject. But to be whisked away into the unknown made your stomach perform a swooping feeling, almost a pre-emptive recreation of what sitting atop a dragon was like.

“So am I being kidnapped now?” You said with an excited giggle, the possibilities opening up to you suddenly making this spacious corridor seem like a prison you’re about to break free from, and Claude laughed back. “Will you stop and write out a ransom first?”

“You know what us Almyrans alike. We just can’t resist something pretty to take for our own.” He teased, pulling your flush against him. “What do you say we have a real celebration?”

His eyes glinted with mischievous intent, reminding you sharply of the emerald earrings you’d carefully slotted into your ears as you were dressing for the ball. You leaned into his embrace, breathing in the scent of Claude, parchment and cloves and pine needles.

“That’s fine with me. I don’t mind being stolen.” You whispered back to him, and his answering kiss sealed the deal.

#claude von riegan #claude x reader #Fire Emblem Three Houses #FE:TH #Fire Emblem x Reader #Writings #claude von riegan x reader

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teag-writes · 4 months

Text

Teachers Pet

guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)

cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!

You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.

After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way.

Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl.

You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-

“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you.

“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble.

He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester.

—————————

After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name.

“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door.

“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you.

“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him.

“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip.

“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.”

You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him.

“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt.

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back.

That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do.

—————————

The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class.

Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him.

“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough. “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson.

By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again.

“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again.

“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him.

“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.”

You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.”

He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard.

“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck.

“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat.

“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?”

You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly.

“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)?

“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out.

“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do.

“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp.

“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it.

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact.

“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.”

You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt.

The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers.

“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #mgg

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 8 days

Text

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 2 - 1.2K WC

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here!)

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, blood eating/drinking (BRIEF AF), sword/knife fighting, reader is just built different, she is THAT bitch, slow burn, this man is falling slowly for your ruthless ass

------------------------------

You walked into the training arena. A large black room with a plethora of weapons to choose from. Everything was of Harkonnen design, curved heavy blades with thicker handles. You preferred your own Cruor weapons, thin balanced straight blades that were easy to move quickly so your nails could also become improvised weapons. You took your personal blades from your maid before dismissing them, wanting to be alone to train. You readied yourself before slashing expertly at the training dummies, practicing a technique taught to you by the monks of Succo.

House Cruor had occupied the planet Succo long before you were born; all ancient teachings were still taught. Especially to you as the sole heir. You were just as deadly as you were intelligent. Legend has it that the Sardaukar held only a fraction of the battle knowledge the monks of Succo had. Such a powerful but secretive house, you were almost forgotten as your planet was at the far reaches of the universe. Nobody went there unless they had a purpose. The cold dark planet shrouded in red darkness full of blood magic. You thought of your home, how you already missed its ethereal red glow. How you were now stuck on Geidi Prime, promised to a man who was rumored to be psychotic. From what you gathered, he found himself to be impenetrable. Arrogant. You would not bring shame to your house by refusing the marriage, Harkonnens are formidable in battle and useful allies. But that did not mean you had to become some cowering pup. You would show them all just how strong House Cruor is.

Lost in your training you barely heard the door open and shut. You threw your smaller blade behind you without looking, defense mode taking over your brain. When you turned, poising yourself with your larger blade, ready to attack, you saw Feyd with your knife in his hand. Blood trickled down his hand but he didn’t seem to mind it. You could smell it across the room, it was tart but somehow sweet. It made your mouth water in anticipation of tasting it. Feyd lowered his hand, looking at your knife before tossing it aside. He pulled one of the Harkonnen swords off the nearby wall before walking towards you. You grunted, sharpening your eyes and standing your ground when he got to close. You listened to his blood pump, his heart beat quickly.

“Are you afraid to fight?” you asked him.

He answered with a scoff, “Afraid? Of you?”

“You should be.” you said, “Your heart beat tells me you are.” you smirked, egging him on.

His face hardened, he struck out at you multiple times, you dodged each strike without even lifting your blade. You laughed at him, moving fluidly as if this were child's play for you. His face grew angrier with each strike that missed.

“Fight if you are going to fight!” he yelled, “Or is it you who is afraid?” he spat.

Wrong words. You lunged at him, slashing wildly but with expert precision. He did his best to dodge your blows but you were faster, more skilled. You kicked out his leg before slashing his hand with your nails, causing him to drop his sword. You went down with him, straddling his chest so your legs could hold his arms down. You held your sword behind you while holding your nails to his throat. Little pin pricks left a droplet trail of blood down his neck.

Both of you were breathing heavily, “I have you.” you said mere inches away from his face.

He looked at you, bewildered. Amazed by your skill, nobody had ever bested him so quickly.

“Yield?” you asked, pressing your nails slightly harder.

Feyd groaned, but not out of pain. Out of sheer arousal. He did his best to hide it, alter it. After a moment he nodded. You stood quickly, holding out a hand to help him up. He looked at you for a moment before grabbing your hand with his bleeding one and hoisting himself up with your aid. You looked at the crimson on your hand before licking the dribble up. Your eyes fluttered shut, he was sweet. Like some sort of rich, deep wine that you wanted to drown in. Your fangs ached for more.

“Do I taste good?” he asked with a smirk.

You opened your eyes to see his arrogant face, how you loathed that face. You quickly spat the blood on the floor, “Absolutely vile.” you replied to him.

You picked up your knife before heading towards the door.

“Wait!” he said with urgency.

You turned to look at him, giving him a quizzical look.

“Train me.” he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please… train me… you are a worthy opponent.” he said with sincerity.

Your heart softened a bit at his wanting to learn from you and admitting you were a great warrior. You nodded at him before leaving.

---------------------------------------

You stayed in your room for the day, the blinding light of the black sun on Geidi Prime was getting tiring walking in every day. You had black out curtains installed to somewhat resemble home. Light was not deadly to the Cruor but it was irritating; like a pebble in your shoe.

You heard a knock on your door, thinking it was one of your maids you allowed them to enter. You laid on your bed with your eyes closed in a lengthy black robe that was ever so slightly sheer.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I have something for you.” said a gruff voice.

You shot up, “What do you want?” you asked, surprised he was in your chambers.

Feyd held out a small disc. “What’s that?” you said moving slightly closer to him.

He moved to your bed, standing almost chest to chest with you at the end of it. He set the disc down before activating it. The room filled with stars and a familiar red glow, the red supergiant your people referred to as Rubrum glowing in the corner.

You looked around amazed, surprisingly happy to be with Feyd at this moment. Feyd watched as you looked around, admiring your beautifully striking features. He was growing to like you and thought this olive branch might soften you towards him a bit. For some reason, the setup brought a few tears to your eyes.

“What is it?” Feyd asked.

“I miss Succo… I miss home…” you said, looking on at the stars and Rubrum. You used to get this view everyday, yet it almost felt like a distant memory looking at it now.

Feyd’s heart dropped a little, “Geidi Prime is not to your liking?” he asked, looking on at the stars with you.

“It is too bright… and lonely.” you said, mumbling the last bit.

Feyd softly turned you to face him with a finger under your chin, “Keep this, enjoy your home view whenever you wish it.”

You locked your eyes with his, his eyes glancing to your lips then back up repeatedly. You softly dragged one of your claws over his cheek bones. Turning his head, you gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you Feyd.” you said with sincerity.

His name sounded so perfect on your lips, he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. “Feyd huh?” he remarked.

“Do you expect me to call you Lord Na-Baron Feyd Rautha? Because I will not be doing that.” you said, backing away from him.

Feyd smiled, amused with your attitude. He had never met someone so sure of themself.

--------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Yeeeeee were getting into it!! This series is gonna be so fun I just know it. I'm gonna try to make it a slow burn but I have never been great those so here's to hoping. Thanks for all the love around my idea, I really have a lot of hope and ideas for it so its nice to see other people think my weird space vampires are cool. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO, talk soon!

#feyd imagine #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #harkonnen #writing #baron harkonnen

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terresdebrume · 22 days

Text

"Charles. You promised."

Charles, sprawled on the ground with his feet up against the walls of the office, lowers the cover of his current volume to send an apologetic smile Edwin's way.

"Well I didn't know you meant right away, did I?"

Edwin cannot help a sigh. They have had some variation of this conversation at least once a year since they met, and Charles has yet to actually submit to any sort of schooling. This time, however, Edwin prepared for the inevitable.

"That was also your argument the last time we had this conversation," Edwin sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "As well as the previous time. And as I recall—"

"Look, Edwin," Charles interrupts, looking up at Edwin again with a half pleading look, "I just really don't like the idea of fighting."

"Sometimes, fighting is the only way," Edwin points out.

He himself has bitterly regretted his avoidance of combat sports as a living boy on many, many an occasion. Who knows how things would have changed, if he had known then a fraction of what he knows now? Perhaps he would have lived. At the very least, he might have died fighting, and avoided Hell altogether. Of course, that would have meant never meeting Charles, but he would not have known that. He would have been blissfully ignorant of what true suffering feels like.

Edwin sighs, then makes himself blink. There is no point in dwelling on the past, especially if it makes Charles look at him with his worried frown, book forgotten on his chest. Edwin attempts a smile, though the look Charles sends him in response does not speak of success.

"I know," he sighs, hard enough to jostle the cross in his ear. "But you'll be there to defend me, yeah?"

Always, Edwin thinks. He is, however, cruelly aware that things do not always happen the way one plans for. Sometimes, students who may have had a very satisfying academic career die and must learn to fight to escape literal Hell. These things are unfair, but they happen. And the thought of Charles, trapped defenseless as Edwin once was... It is unbearable. It does not bear contemplating.

"Charles," Edwin pleads, hearing the touch of despair in his voice. "I will protect you as best as I can for as long as I exist here with you... But there may be times when I am not enough. I might be away and need some time to find you, or—any number of things could happen to keep me from your side. It would ease my mind to know that you have the skills to keep yourself alive until such time as I am able to take up the task again."

For a moment, Charles says nothing. He stares at Edwin, with his bright brown eyes the color of rich soil, with that smile he gets when he thinks Edwin is being particularly chivalrous. Edwin sustains his gaze, sweat filling his palms...and sighs in relief when Charles takes a deep breath and stands up.

"Alright, mate," he says, softly. "Fine. What am I learning then, how to throw a punch?"

"That would be the more sensible choice," Edwin admits around his own smile. "However, since I know very well how distasteful you find any of these activities, I thought perhaps I would appeal to your other sensibilities."

Charles makes an inquisitive noise as Edwin rummages in the coffer he prepared for this exact purpose earlier. He finds the tricorns first, handing one to a bemused Charles before donning his own. The way Charles frowns is as endearing as ever, and Edwin smiles as he reaches back into the coffer to find the sabers.

Charles gasps.

"Get out! You're not seriously teaching me how to be a pirate!"

"I should think you have seen ample evidence to belt that sentence," Edwin points out with a roll of his eyes.

Charles, of course, ignores the barb entirely.

"Can you say 'Ahoy, matey?'"

"Do take this seriously please." Charles sobers up, although his grin remains. As a reward, Edwin makes a point to demonstrate an old fashioned salute before he says: "En garde."

Charles smiles as brightly as if Edwin had told him Christmas would come early.

(Reblogs make the world go round! Consider sharing this if you enjoyed it!)

#Matt writes #dead boy detectives #Charles Rowland #edwin payne #s: role swapped DBD #bc let's be real: I will likely write more of this someday #10n #20n #40n #50n #DBDA Fanfic

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sewermageboy · 8 months

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obligatory "i love gale, I promise i'm not shitting on gale" comment before I start, but:

I feel like with a lot of the "he was groomed" narrative for Gale, people assume it's a given that Mystra came to him when he was a child, right? He says that she was his teacher, his muse, and then his lover, so I can see why people think that she must have been with him since he was a child.

But (I've been going down a Forgotten Realms lore rabbit hole, and found that) Mystra was killed around a hundred years before BG3, and only returned to life in 1479 DR, around 13 years before the events of the game. So unless we're saying that Gale is 30 years old (and in my mind he's more like 35-45), he would have been an adult by the time they met, even assuming that she immediately reached out to him after returning to the Forgotten Realms.

So why is the "groomed from childhood" narrative so prevalent? I think most people (rightfully) have better things to do with their time than reading about the fckn Spellplague on the Forgotten Realms wiki, but apart from that.

I think, especially with how many people (on tiktok especially, as far as I've seen) seem to hate Gale for being "too pushy" or whatever bc of the romance bug, there's an inherent instinct for Gale enjoyers to justify their liking of this character, by explaining away his flaws and his idiosyncrasies by saying "he is the way he is because he was groomed by the goddess of magic", and therefore his flaws aren't his own fault/don't matter, whatever.

It really bothers me when people explain away his flaws like that. He's braggadocious, yes, and he's arrogant, and he's filled to the brim with hubris. Does he have his reasons for that? Yes, of course! But that doesn't mean that his flaws are any less present, and just as much of a part of him as all the good parts. It bothers me when people do this with any of the characters tbh, like saying that all of Astarion's shitty behavior is due to his trauma at the hands of Cazador (which much of it is! But he's also just kinda a shitty person, and that's okay!!)

Like, if we look at Forgotten Realms lore, and say that Gale is around 40, Mystra would have approached him as a young man in his 20s - and honestly, that version of events is still just as fucked up to me as "he was groomed". Here you have this brilliant wizard, who lives for magic and manipulating the weave, and the goddess of magic herself begins to mentor him, teach him, inspire him, and eventually becomes his lover, too. Then, after she keeps showing him magic that will forever be beyond his reach, telling him to be content with his lot, he goes too far - and is discarded in the process, left alone to deal with the Orb in his chest despite Mystra being able to heal him instantly if she wished. And not only does he have to deal with a bad breakup and a nuclear bomb in his chest, no, he's also never able to truly be free of her, as long as he wishes to still do magic - something that is basically second nature to him, and that he could never give up.

I've also seen people conflate his Early Access story (Mystra discarding him first and for no reason, and him ending up with the Orb in his chest as a result of trying to win her back) with his full release one (Him trying to prove to Mystra he was worthy of being shown magic beyond any other mortals, ending up with the Orb, and Mystra discarding him as a result of that), and I feel like that comes from the same place as the insistence on him being groomed - trying to justify his behavior and sanitize him as much as possible.

I understand the instinct to defend Gale from people who shit on him needlessly bc of the romance bug or whatever, I really do. I adore Gale, and I think he's one of the most fascinating characters in the game! But I also think it's a disservice to him to not acknowledge the negative parts of him, or to explain them away as being caused by trauma he might have gone through.

The shitty parts, the ones you can really sink your teeth into, are what make most of the companions so interesting to me!!! And Gale's arrogance, his clumsiness when he flirts and how quick he is to fall in love, his hubris and his anger are all part of that!!

Edit: just wanted to clarify that I have no issue with the interpretation that Gale was groomed by Mystra from a young age in and of itself!

As @galedekarios rightfully pointed out, Larian often plays fast and loose with the timeline, so Mystra's death and her return to the forgotten realms only factor in so much. There's ample evidence in the game for the grooming interpretation, and it's also super fascinating to me, I just don't like that a lot of the discussion of Gale's character seems to boil down to: "but he was groomed, so it doesn't matter", or that many people seem to view it as the only valid interpretation of his character.

#gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #mystra #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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mochatsin · 9 months

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WHEN THE BROTHERS FORGOT YOUR DATE

You have plans with him to go out tonight and just spend some nice quality time together. However, sometimes things just don’t go your way. Something came up and your favorite demon may have forgotten about the date.

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Lucifer

He never meant to forget it. He was actually looking forward to it and he was also the one who made the necessary reservations for you two to eat at this fancy restaurant where you get to dress up and eat something so exquisite.

It was supposed to be a lovely evening for the both of you. All dolled up nicely while you get to experience fine dining, since it’s something you don’t normally do. This makes this little date special and you were so excited for it, the feeling was almost contagious around the house.

Just as he was about to leave, Diavolo called for a last minute urgent meeting that required his attendance. It was something important so Lucifer couldn’t leave no matter how much he wanted to. Given the serious topic at hand, he was so focused on it that he forgot about the time.

You tried to call him since you were already at the restaurant waiting for him. Lucifer found the buzzing of his phone incredibly distracting so he left it in his bag to focus on the meeting.

As soon as he was dismissed, he checked his phone and he felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw the number of calls and texts from you. He can’t believe that he forgot something so important!

He ran to the restaurant as soon as he could, still in his RAD uniform. He doesn’t care how much he sticks out like a sore thumb with his clothes in a restaurant full of well dressed demons, he doesn't want to let you wait for a single second.

To see you sitting alone, already finished with your own dinner while Lucifer’s has already gone cold and untouched, it made his heart break into two. It was supposed to be your special night with him after all, and he was already late. It hurts him more to see how dressed up you were, knowing how you must’ve planned this outfit for a while now.

The sadness and disappointment in your eyes was enough to make him want to grovel on his knees and beg for your forgiveness in front of you and the entire restaurant. Pride be damned.

You were about to leave, thinking that you shouldn’t waste your time here alone any longer and go home. Lucifer runs in to stop you “w-wait! I'm here now” He says, making you sit back down on the chair while he sits across you.

You could see that he practically ran from RAD all the way here, given how disheveled his hair is and how he’s still in uniform. Though it was already obvious, he explained why he was late.

“I know I said it was important, but it’s not an excuse. You deserve to have a nice time, and I'll make it up to you. Only if you’ll let me.” You can see that he means well, so you decide to give him another chance.

Your forgiveness means a lot to him so he smiles “I promise I won't make the same mistake ever again” and you spend the rest of the evening planning a second date with him. This time he lets you choose where to go, no questions asked.

Lucifer makes sure to clear his schedule and let Diavolo know he has plans already so that he wouldn’t get caught up with work. You deserve his full attention tonight. He’s the one who arrives at the venue you picked out first, all dressed up nicely for you as he takes you by the hand “Shall we?”

Mammon

He offered to take you out for a tour in the finest parts of Devildom, wanting to bring you to his favorite places to teach you more about the nightlife in the realm.

Mammon was bragging about his little date with you to his brothers until Satan eventually says “okay but do you really expect MC to pay for that though? You don’t even have a single Grimm to your name…”

That’s when he realized that he’s prepared for everything except financially. He did try to work to get some money but of course to him, the quickest way to get Grimm was through the casino.

For once it did work and he was having a good winning streak. He’s never had this much Grimm before and he loves it! He doesn’t want to stop! He’ll milk everyone dry while lady luck is still smiling at him.

But his fixation on gambling got in his head that he forgot why he was doing this for. When you tried to call him for the 5th time, he finally picked up.

“Whaddya need? I’m the middle of winnin’ something big here!” He says with his hands full of Grimm. Then he hears the disappointment in your voice when you realize he ditched you for gambling and he panics.

“Ah… I see.” Is all you say. That’s enough to scare the living hell out of Mammon, a fear that rivals the chills he gets from Lucifer.

“W-wha—?! N-no wait MC I just—“ before he could explain you dropped the call on him. You never really do that since you’re always so patient with him, so he knows that he really fucked up big time.

He pulls out his winnings early and drives like a madman on his way to you. You were already walking back to the house with a sad look on your face. To think that Mammon was the one who was the one who wanted to bring you here, but he ended up just gambling. It was only fair to be upset.

You were a couple streets away from the House of Lamentation when Mammon drove up by your side and quickly ran to you, pulling you in for a hug. “I’d never forget about you!” He says, not wanting to let you go until you hear him out.

“I just… I wanted to get some extra Grimm to treat ya out for tonight. I didn’t mean to ditch you, honest!” You can see the little puppy eyes through his shades, the Great Mammon on the verge of tears as he spends the next five minutes apologizing to you over and over until you forgive him.

You give in, knowing now that he was just trying to get Grimm for you and not to indulge in his Greed. It makes him smile again and he practically lifts you off your feet as he hugs you tighter.

“Come on! The night is still young, so let’s splurge a little yeah? My treat” He says before driving around the city to enjoy the nightlife as he promised.

He decided to spoil you for today to make up for his mistakes. Whether it’s food or something that caught your eye, Mammon got you covered. May have bought you a bit too much, but it’s worth it to see you smile again.

He does get scolded by his brothers afterwards for almost forgetting after Mammon spent three days bragging about it to them. You only told Asmo once after he asked how it went and he ended up telling the rest through gossip. Poor Mammon.

Levi

There was an upcoming event in the mall nearby that sells some fan merch of your favorite series, and Levi was the first person you thought of to bring with you since he’s always going to those.

Just as he was getting ready to leave, he finds a notification on his phone about a surprise early release of this anime he’s been dying to watch. It was supposed to be released tomorrow but it’s already available today! What kind of fan would he be if he missed this?!

Without realizing it, he finds himself glued to the computer watching the new episodes. You tried contacting him since you were already by the event waiting for him before so you two can go in together. After almost an hour, you decided to stop trying and go in yourself.

Levi was already halfway when Mammon went into his room without permission. He wanted to snoop around to see if he could get his hands on something valuable, but he was much more surprised to see Levi still here.

“You idiot! What are you doing here?! I’m too busy right now so go away!” Levi hissed, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Eh? I thought ya were supposed to be out in the mall with MC though?” Mammon says, motioning at the Ruri-chan themed clock in his room where her magical staff is pointing at late-o-clock.

“…” in a matter of seconds, Levi is now screaming as he sprints from his room all the way up to the mall.

He opened his phone on his way to the mall and he panicked even more to see all the missed calls and texts from you. He’s normally good at scheduling, so he can’t believe he forgot about this one!

“SORRI I WND SO LTE IMMOM MY WAY” is what his shaky hands could type while he was still running, hoping you’re still in the event so he could catch up. Levi will never forgive himself if you’ve already left.

He eventually spots you sitting alone in a nearby bench outside the event, with a handful of merch that you didn’t seem too happy with.

He quickly runs up to you, still panting heavily as he basically had to sit down to let his aching legs rest. “S-sorry…” was the first comprehensive thing he could say in between breaths until he calmed down enough to give you a proper apology and explanation.

Levi was about to go on with his self-destructive “i'm just a yucky otaku and I don’t deserve your time” speech but you’re the one in need of comforting, not him. He knows you’re going to spend your energy trying to cheer him up, but now it’s his turn!

“H-how about we go back in there? Let me buy you something you want! Then we can go home and rewatch your favorite episodes” he offers so that you two would have more quality time together.

Levi bought you all the merch of your favorite character’s that he can find to compensate.

Normally, he would’ve gone home and continued the anime he wanted to watch to pick up where he left off. Tonight, he lets you pick out what you wanted to watch and enjoy yourself.

Satan

There was a new cafe that you wanted to visit with Satan after school, and he was more than happy to accompany you after his classes. You suggested that you both could read a book together there and talk about it, like a little book club meeting over some coffee or tea.

There’s nothing he enjoys more than just relaxing together with a warm drink and a book at hand with his favorite human, so he was looking forward to the last ring of the bell to meet you at the gates.

Though just as he was leaving, he was called for a meeting with Lucifer to arrange some sudden reports. As secretary of the RAD student council, he has no choice but to oversee his duties for the position appointed to him. But as the Avatar of Wrath, he absolutely hates how he needs to follow orders from Lucifer of all people.

He has half the mind in doing his work, and the other trying to think of how to ingrain curses on the threads of Lucifer’s buttons so they would come undone no matter what to make a fool out of him. Just as he deserves. The thought of his buttons undone during a speech in front of RAD makes him grin.

By the time that Satan was done with everything he needed to do, he realized how late it’s been and saw your messages saying that you’re already by the gates, asking where he was. He ran as fast as he could by the gate, and guilt got worse when he saw you’re not there anymore.

‘Did you already go home? Are you safe? Where could you be?’ Those were the thoughts that were racing in his mind as he panics. He was an hour late after all so it’s understandable that you had to leave, but he doesn’t like the uncertainty of your whereabouts.

Satan texts Asmo asking for you and he receives a reply “Eh? MC said they’re already at the cafe! I thought you two were together?” after knowing that you went there on your own, he starts sprinting to the place he was supposed to escort you in.

He finds you sitting by the window, alone on a table for two with a drink and a book at hand. Satan already feels bad that he made you go alone, doing the things he promised you two would do together. What’s worse is that you were reading a book that he recommended the other day.

‘They really wanted to be here with me…’ was his thought as he stared at you from the window with sad eyes. You did end up spotting him from the window, which breaks him from his trance. What is he doing standing here like an idiot? He wastes no time and runs to the entrance.

Satan didn’t care if he banged the door knob against the wall when he stormed in, he quickly rushed to your side and apologized for his tardiness. “I promise MC, I'm never usually late for anything. I never meant to leave you alone like this…”

You accept his apology and it brings a smile to his face, though he still feels a little guilty. “Why don’t I buy you a pastry to eat? It’s my treat. Then later, we can talk about the book together” it’s an offer you can’t exactly say no to.

He makes up for his tardiness by spending all the quality time he can with you. You two talk about each other’s thoughts and opinions about the book, then you listen to Satan rant about how it’s all Lucifer’s fault he was late and his plans on ruining the rest of his clothes for the next formal meeting with Diavolo.

Asmo

Asmo insisted you two go clothes shopping together to update your wardrobe. Given that you’re a new exchange, you didn’t really have a lot of clothes to begin with. Asmo is the best person for this job with his fashion sense, and it sounded like a fun idea to spend time with him so you agreed.

Before he was about to leave, he finds a package addressed to him and it was the new makeup he’s been waiting for! He’s been itching to make a livestream where he just talks about the product while he applies it, so he does just that.

A lot of people tuned in of course where he rambles about how the brand is good for his skin and makes him look like an absolute gem. The comments are boosting his ego as he continues to apply the makeup on stream.

Asmo said that he was already on the way, but that last message was thirty minutes ago and there’s still no sign of him. When you checked up on him for updates, you saw that he’s currently live on Devilgram doing a commentary on the make up he’s been talking to you about for days.

You know how much he loves doing content like these for his fans, but of course it still hurts that he couldn’t spare that time for you. So you left him a small message stating that you’re going to leave the mall and head to the purgatory hall instead, exiting the live stream as soon as you hit send.

Asmo saw the notification banner pop up with your message on his phone and for a moment, his viewers thought that maybe the stream lagged because he suddenly stopped moving, frozen in place.

You don’t see this since you left his stream, but you missed the part where he screams as he frantically grabs his phone with a “sorry loves!” As he ends it. You get a call and before you can get a word in, Asmo is yelling at you to stay first until he gets there.

You stay there and in ten minutes, Asmo is there panting heavily with make up half done. “I-i didn’t mean to make you wait! Please don’t leave darling” He pleads. His neat appearance was ruined, and he hates the feeling of sweat on his skin. But he needed to catch up to you as soon as he could, he’ll fix himself later.

Asmo wouldn’t stop apologizing, and he would be ready to make a scene to show how sorry he is. If publicly proclaiming his love for you is what it takes then you know he’d do it. Once you do forgive him, he’s going to stick to your side like glue while he goes shopping with you.

He’ll treat you tonight by putting on the make up he was trying earlier on you this time. “You’ll look absolutely stunning with this! Especially with the clothes we bought today” and will definitely show you off like an artist unveiling his new masterpiece.

Beel

After learning from Mammon that there was a brand new restaurant that opened up recently, Beel was so excited to visit it with you. He loves enjoying food with you, and the restaurant serves dishes that are more around your tastes when you check the menu. This makes the food trip all more exciting.

Beel can’t stop thinking about the little date you two would have, and after checking the menu his stomach is growling in anticipation. He just needs to get through the day and he’s ready to meet you later for dinner.

Though it wasn’t that easy since his coach needed him to train extra for an upcoming Fangol match. It was going to be a big competition apparently, so the coach needed everyone to be ready.

The extensive work out really made him break a sweat, and he’s starving by the end of his training. But the rumbling of his tummy and cravings made him realize he forgot to update you about the time. He dives for his phone and finds several messages from you so he panics.

Beel immediately calls you “M-MC! Sorry I didn’t mean to be so late! Are you still there?!” He asks as he practically runs out without taking a shower first. His shirt is definitely drenched in sweat but he hates the thought of making you wait any further.

You told him that you were already on the way home, since it’s been almost an hour and by the time you got there, the restaurant was already fully booked. You try to hide it, but Beel can hear from the other line how sad you sounded.

Beel is upset since he knows that you two would have had such a lovely time by now, eating the dishes you two called dibs on when you checked the menu together in his room. He feels that he let you down by not showing up on time.

You two meet up halfway and you find Beel, sweating and panting heavily as he meets your eyes. Beel wanted to hug you to apologize, but he didn’t want you to feel how sweaty he was.

While you wiped the sweat off his face, he pouted at you. “Sorry…” He mumbled. Beel was a man of few words, but that was enough to convey his feelings. You know he doesn’t really mean it, so you forgive him.

You two spent the night getting take out dinner nearby since Beel practically sprinted on an empty stomach after hours of training and he’s not going to last any longer without food. It may not be the restaurant that you both planned, but the company is still pleasant.

After explaining his tardiness, you both decide to go to the restaurant together after his fangol match to celebrate. It would be like his reward for working so hard. That idea got Beel so motivated, he basically bulldozed his way to victory in that game.

Belphie

There was going to be a meteor shower tonight in Devildom and Belphie was ecstatic at the thought of it. It’s not uncommon in Devildom compared to the human realm, but it’s always a sight to see. So he wants to bring you along next time to the planetarium to watch it with him.

Belphie figured that he still has enough time after his classes end to take a quick nap. Though being the Avatar of Sloth, a nap was approximately 8 hours for him and he’d still feel tired. What’s worse is that Belphie can fall asleep anywhere anytime, he can be very difficult to wake up too.

Belphie nap was interrupted from the sound of Beel’s voice as his twin shook him awake. “Mmm… five more minutes…” The youngest groaned, eyes still shut as he tries to get some more sleep.

“Belphie it’s been 5 hours” was enough words for the Avatar of Sloth to wake up and stand. “WHAT?!” He panics as he looks up the sky to see the meteors already falling. Crap!

Belphie makes his way to you at home and he finds you by the planetarium, sitting alone as you stare up the meteors. He can see that you prepared pillows and a blanket on the empty space next to you, and it aches him. You were clearly looking forward to this.

Without a word, He gives you a hug from behind as he buries his face by your neck. He’s a little afraid to face you personally, because he doesn’t need to see the disappointment in your face to know that.

“Sorry MC… I really am” He mumbles softly, holding you close. He didn’t even bother trying to watch the last few minutes of the meteor shower anymore, he just held you close for the whole duration.

Only when you placed a hand above his that it made him look up at you again. You don’t need words, but he knows what you were trying to say. So he continues to embrace you.

He doesn’t understand how you could forgive him so easily but… he’ll take it. He’ll vow to make sure you two enjoy the next meteor shower soon.

Both of you just spent some quality time together, soaking in the silence for a while as the last meteor fell. You break the silence by asking about the constellations in the sky, and Belphie was happy enough to indulge in your questions and began talking about the stories behind it.

Even if there were no more meteors, it was still a magical night under the stars. You two kept on talking and talking until you both fell asleep on the nest of pillows in the planetarium. Beel had to carry you both to your rooms.

Belphie started asking Beel for favors to wake him up in case he has an important event with you upcoming so he wouldn’t miss it again. He doesn’t trust any of the brothers except his twin with this role.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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throneofsapphics · 10 months

Note

Omgoshhh I absolutely love "have your little girlfriend"! You wrote them SO PERFECTLY! Do you think you'd ever write like a part 2??? Like just imagine the angst of the reader maybe not knowing what they are with both rowan and aelin and the makeup after 🥹🩷 UGHHH sorry you literally just got my brain running so fast! Ahaha regardless you're an AMAZING writer 🩷🥰 and I will continue eating up your rowaelin fics

have your little girlfriend, part two

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: “Yes, chocolate generally is.” Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned over and wiped a small smear from the corner of his mouth. He froze completely, with that immortal, preternatural stillness. “Just like Aelin,”

“What’s just like Aelin?” The door pushed open, and she pulled her hand away - the moment lost.

Word Count: ~4.7k

Warnings: smut, angst, a bit of dubcon, dark aelin/rowan, insecurities, this turned darker, minors dni!

A/N: how did you read my mind?? I've been planning this. It turned into a bit of a monster and I have a part 3 in progress. this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. thank you so so much for requesting it, it gave me the extra motivation to finish! also please read the warnings, it took a bit of a darker turn!

series masterlist

Despite the time Aelin let Rowan, ‘fuck me like a brat’, Gods that repeated in her head more than it should have, I mostly still spent time with Aelin, Rowan making an occasional experience, but nothing like that occurrence. He did watch, sometimes, but never touched her. Maybe that was Aelin’s orders. Still, he showed less and less. Y/n would’ve expected the opposite after what happened, but it turned into her seeing him once a month. Maybe.

She heard the front door creak open, she’d been expecting Aelin to come by.

“I’ve been testing these new ones, for you to-” Y/n turned, and it wasn’t Aelin standing in the door. Rowan was there. She startled enough the plate in her hands dropped, but a breeze caught it, lowering it gently to the table.

“Not who you were expecting?” He tilted his head, a small smile on his lips.

“No,” she said sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. “But not an unwelcome surprise.”

“Aelin’s running late.” His lips pressed together, like he was fighting a smile. “What are those?” He nudged towards the chocolates sitting on the table. Chocolate and cherry truffles, something new you’d been experimenting with.

“Chocolate and cherry truffles, I don’t suppose you’d be interested?”

His nose crinkled slightly. Aelin told her the story of the cake she made one time, and y/n had howled with laughter. Flicking Aelin’s nose when she pouted, and promised to teach her how to make one that wouldn’t make her throw up.

“If you swear that Aelin didn’t help.”

“She’s only my test taster.” She promised him, and he carefully picked one up. Aelin is only her taste tester for a reason. The cake teaching lesson turned into a bit of a disaster, flour thrown across her kitchen, things spilled everywhere - an egg cracked onto the counter instead of in the bowl. She had a lot of patience, and it took a lot for her temper to flare, but after the egg she ordered Aelin to go sit on the couch. And she did, making comments the entire time. About how nice her ass looked, about how pretty her lips were, about how she’s sweet.”

He ate the entire thing, and didn’t look disgusted by it, so she took that as a good sign. “It’s sweet.”

“Yes, chocolate generally is.” Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned over and wiped a small smear from the corner of his mouth. He froze completely, with that immortal, preternatural stillness. “Just like Aelin,”

“What’s just like Aelin?” The door pushed open, and she pulled her hand away - the moment lost.

Aelin’s eyes lit up as she saw the plate of chocolates on the table, her question forgotten. “Did you convince him to eat one?”

Y/n leaned back against the counter. “He said it’s sweet.”

Aelin scowled at him, before sniffing. “He has no taste, don’t mind him darling.”

Rowan looked vaguely offended, but glanced back and forth between the two of them. “I’d say my taste is just fine.”

Aelin ignored him, heading right for the plate, and picking one up, “aren’t you going to ask what they are?” Rowan questioned her.

“Don’t care.” She popped it in her mouth, letting out an obnoxious, over the top moan.

Rowan rolled his eyes and turned to y/n, “is she always like this?”

“Yes,” she answered, but with a fond smile on her face.

Aelin narrowed her eyes at the two of them. Something had happened, some sort of exchange between them in the less than ten minutes they’d been alone together. Rowan noticed the look on her face, but y/n had turned back around again, fiddling with something. Washing dishes, she realized, and she strode forwards to help, nudging her hip against the female’s, drawing a chuckle out of her.

She questioned Rowan later - on what exactly happened.

One night she came in, a bit tipsy, spotting Aelin stretched out like a cat, half-empty wine glass on the table next to her. The cover of her book, and arousal flooding through the room made it very obvious what she’d been reading. And Rowan - sitting in an armchair near the fire. The situation made it clear they’ve been waiting for her, and that Aelin has a plan.

“What are you reading?” She asked anyway as her pulse quickened. Aelin’s eyes met her own and she gestured for her to come closer.

Y/n did, and curled up next to Aelin, who’d closed the book, pinned one page with her finger.

“They used to date, and broke up a year ago. They were supposed to be on a vacation with a circle of their friends, but ended up snowed into the cabin before the others could arrive.” She flipped the book open, pushing it into her hands. “Read for me.”

Y/n gulped, but started reading, “her mouth finding the crook between my shoulder and neck for ..” Her face flushed red and she paused as Aelin’s lips brushed her shoulder.

“Keep reading.” Her voice was heavy with lust. She glanced towards Rowan, who only shook his head, jerking his chin towards Aelin. She took that as a warning to pay attention to her, and keep reading.

“For a trail of nips and sucks,” canines grazed her shoulder and she focused on keeping her breathing steady, Aelin’s fingers trailed down the page, pointing to the next line for her to read. “Her left hand slid from where she’d been torturing my nipples,”

Y/n keened into Aelin’s touch as two fingers pinched her nipple, twisting slightly. “Did I say you could stop?”

“Fingers brushing down my body, slipping under my pants, down to where she could cup my pussy.” Aelin’s hand did exactly that, and her other hand grabbed the book and tossed it onto the table.

Her hand pulled out, dragging her own arousal up y/n’s body, before her fingers pressed against her lips. She eagerly sucked on them, swirling her tongue on each one, drawing a small moan out of Aelin. Hands gripped Y/n’s hips, twisting her around so she’d straddle her thighs.

Their lips crashed together in a brutal, bruising kiss. Their shirts were lifted over their heads, bands bounding their breasts tossed across the room, leaving them half naked and exposed to the elements. A fire instantly lit the grate, roaring enough to warm the room slightly. Y/n slid down, her lips trailing across Aelin’s soft skin, stopping to leave small bruises in her wake. Aelin’s thumbs hooked through the waist of her pants and she wiggled slightly, letting Aelin drag them completely off, before returning the favor. Aelin pushed them back, Y/n’s body stretched across the couch now.

Rowan figured this was Aelin’s way of punishing him. For what, exactly, he didn’t know. Only that she was possessive of y/n, and that ‘something,’ which really wasn’t anything at all, happened without her there.

Aelin propped herself on one arm, her nails scratching down her chest, dragging over her nipple, watching as y/n’s lips parted, small whimpers leaving her. The other female gently cupped her hands around the back of her head, lowering her for a gentle kiss. Aelin loved how y/n was always gentle, always sweet, no matter how hard she fucked her, y/n would return with soft and gentle strokes, kisses that left her dizzy.

Aelin’s fingers pressed through her folds without warning, burying only to her second knuckle and moving so painfully slowly, y/n seemed ready to explode, already on edge - just from a few careful touches and reading a few lines from a book. That filled her with a sense of power, that she was able to get these kinds of reactions out of her so quickly. Another sense of power came from the scent of Rowan’s arousal - watching in the corner. She loved an audience.

Y/n pushed back, her hips thrusting forward, trying to ride her fingers, but placed one hand on her stomach, pinning her down to the coach. “So impatient.” She clicked her tongue, “are you going to be good for me?”

Her head nodded rapidly, “I will, I will, I promise.”

“If you aren’t,” Aelin glanced towards Rowan and y/n whimpered. But, Aelin slammed two fingers in completely, and Y/n screamed - her body writhing, before she slowly fucked her, with hard but slow strokes.

“Please, please, please” y/n whimpered, chanting over and over again

“Please what? Use your words, love.”

“More,” she moaned, trying to push back on Aelin’s fingers again. Aelin pulled away, and y/n whined in protest, she’d been right on the edge - her walls just starting to clench around her fingers.

“What’s gotten into you?” She flicked her nose, “you’re never this demanding.”

“I just want you,” she lifted her hands, trying to pull her back down on top of her, but Aelin swatted them away. Aelin debated teasing her more, making her wait, edging her for hours - she’d done that before, to great results. But … she settled back between her legs, sucking gently on her clit, pushing one finger inside of her, and quickly sent her hurtling towards the edge, enjoying the sweet sounds of her moans, and the slight shake in her thighs.

Her girl was sleepy after, completely fucked out, the combination of sex and alcohol making her exhausted. She hid a small smile as she cleaned her up, before braiding her hair and tucking her in bed, Rowan following her out the door. One she made sure to lock.

They had their song and dance - Aelin arriving as the market was closing, occasionally with Rowan in tow, pretending to pursue her goods, whatever was left. But, y/n always kept a little something separate for Aelin - something she’d craft specifically. Aelin had a collection of small trinkets in her chambers, displayed up on a shelf. Or several shelves.

If Rowan was there, he insisted on tugging the small cart back, no matter how much she’d protest. One look from him and her mouth would shut, curving into a small smile instead.

There wasn’t any tension, and she still didn’t feel like anything was missing or lacking, but she couldn’t figure out where she stood with them, or if that instance was a one time deal. Rowan occasionally watching was very different. He’d never kissed her, and she’d never kissed him. There were never any more moments, not like the one when he’d arrived before Aelin that day. Somehow Cherry became associated with him.

She doesn’t know how to communicate it either, how would she tell Aelin she wants her mate and husband too … it could make it an awkward situation, and she was scared of losing Aelin. The female who had been such a big part of her life since they met. Another fear of hers, one that trickled through her mind more often than she’d like, is if she didn’t mean as much to Aelin as Aelin meant to her.

But, months went on and things remained mostly the same.

One morning, after Aelin spent the night, she reached a hand over, expecting to feel Aelin curled up on her side, but cold sheets met her touch. She startled, the sunrise peeking up through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over her room.

Empty, and she couldn’t hear or scent her in the house. Y/n doesn’t know what she expected, or why she thought this time would be different. It’d recreate whatever she was reading, other times they’d falls always been like this. Aelin*sipped out inh the earouch. She’d wake - even though Y/n’s an early riser, sometimes the bed would be warm, others cold.

Aelin would leave a note, saying something sweet, and when/if she might see her again, before the next weekend. Might is the key word. Nothing was ever set in stone. She liked to show up randomly too. Sometimes when she’d be very tipsy, stumbling into her home, and y/n always lit up seeing Aelin stretched casually on the couch. Maybe some kind of erotic romance novel in her hand, or resting her eyes if it had been a particularly hard day. Sometimes they’d recreate whatever she was reading, other times they’d fall asleep in each other's arms, right there on the couch. She’d wake up the next morning in her bed, a clean nightgown and hair braided. Some days she remembers Aelin cleaning her up, both of them laughing and sharing a story or two. But, her hair was always braided - like a calling sign telling her she’d been there, even if y/n had been drunk enough she forgot the night. It made her feel safe, and cared for.

But, it wore her down. Never knowing when Aelin would appear, never forming any kinds of close connections with her friends or court - beyond Fenrys, who she convinced to leave little things for Aelin in her rooms. Fenrys, who Aelin would send to check in on her if she and Rowan were gone for a long period of time, more than a month.

It took longer than she cared to admit, but she built up the courage to do it. To do what she needed for herself.

“You can’t …” Aelin, for once in her life, struggled for words.

“I can’t what, Aelin?” Y/n’s voice was unusually cold, but tears shone in her eyes. Those eyes - usually sweet and adoring, were wary now. It snapped something inside her.

“Leave this.” The Queen hissed back at her, eyes raging. Her throat tightened, and fists clenched. Y/n watched the movement, a bit of fear flickered through her scent.

“Yes, I can.” Her lips pressed in a tight line..

“My scent is wrapped up enough in yours nobody will dare look twice at you.” Aelin raged, her voice rose.

She shook her head, “I’ll manage.” Her voice was irritatingly even and calm, but Aelin could hear her heart pounding, and she strode towards her. Like in the past, she let her anger anchor her, slicing past any hesitation and doubt, letting it focus her.

Aelin wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist pulling her in close. She didn’t fight her. “You’re not leaving me.”

“Am I going to spend the rest of my life with cold beds in the morning? Never knowing when I’ll see you again? Always your second option?”

“It’s not like that.” She tightened her arms around her waist, her fingers dug into the female’s waist, the touch pure possession.

“Have I ever visited your home?” Y/n prompted. Aelin didn’t answer. “My friends always ask to meet you, but you’ve always made excuses not to.” She said mildly, almost dismissive in tone, and tried to untangle herself from Aelin’s arms but she held on, her hold unbreakable. Why doesn’t she get it? Aelin doesn’t want to share, doesn’t want to know y/n’s other friends. To keep in that small bubble where y/n is hers.

“I’ve talked about you to them. My court knows.” She countered.

“But I’ve never met them, beyond Fenrys. It’s been two years.”

“We’re immortal.” She’d introduce them to her one day. Maybe.

“Are they?” Y/n challenged, watching how Aelin’s face tightened. “Are you embarrassed of me?” Her voice grew softer.

“No,” Aelin breathed, “never,” and dropped her arms, y/n taking a few steps back.

“Then why the secrecy?”

“I’m selfish. I don’t want to share you with them.” Aelin admitted, swallowing.

“I would still be yours.” Y/n said mildly.

“No,” Aelin became frustrated. Would, that one word rang through her mind. She’s not sure how to explain it. Gods, she wishes y/n would blow up, would get angry or frustrated or something except the sadness and resignation.

“Give me a reason to stay,” Y/n said, nearly pleading.

“Because I love you.” It’s the first thing she thought of, and she let the words fly out. Fill the room.

Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, taking a few moments to let the words sink in. It didn’t have the effect Aelin wanted, instead she asked, “Is that going to be enough?”

“I’ll make it enough.” Aelin promised.

“Is anything going to change?” Her voice grew quieter with each word, the last one just above a whisper.

“I’ll fix this.” She didn’t want to promise how much would change. How much she’d be able to give. No, she wouldn’t make a promise she couldn’t keep. She took steady steps back towards her, until she was standing just in front of her, close enough that if she took a deep breath their chests would touch. Instead her hands cupped her face, wiping away a small tear.

“We can try.” Her voice was quiet, but the words rang through Aelin’s mind. Try? No, when she set her mind to something, it would happen. She does nothing by half measures.

“There won’t be any ‘try,’ I said I’m going to fix this, and I promise I will, darling.” That promise she can make, one way or another, she’d figure out how to keep Y/n, and how to keep her happy in the process.

“You promise?” Her teeth rolled her bottom lip between them, and Aelin’s thumb drifted to tug it away.

“I just said that.”

A ghost of a smile formed on Y/n’s face, but disappeared quickly.

Aelin’s eyes glanced at the clock. “I have a meeting.” One she couldn’t avoid for once. “I’ll be back in two days.” She promised. “Around sundown.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. Aelin realized she’d never given a specific date or time she’d show up. She made a mental note to change that. But, two days gave her enough time to figure this out.

“How do I keep her?” Aelin ranted, pacing back and forth across their sitting room.

“Do you need help?” Rowan raised his brows, ignoring her hard stare.

“How would you help?” He ignored the sour tone of her words, recognizing she’s distressed and doesn’t mean it that way.

“We keep her together.” Rowan offered.

“What the rutting hell does that mean?” Her hands clenched her hair, fingers digging in.

“Let me share her with you.” Gods, he’d thought about it for over a year, ever since that day. If Aelin would let him into that part of her life - the one she kept mostly secluded from the world. A small retreat for her, in a way. A place where she could escape from everyone else. He saw she was close to tears of frustration, and wrapped her in a hug. “Don’t cry my love.”

He couldn’t really hurt y/n, but for making Aelin cry he wanted to punish her. Make sure it would never happen again. His instincts told him to destroy anything that might hurt her, that might cause Aelin any kind of pain, even bring her to the point of tears. He can count on two hands the amount of times he’d seen her cry.

They’d realized a year ago they both shared a sort of mating bond with her. Aelin knew it snapped for Rowan at some point, but he’d done a good job of suppressing it, pushing it back into some corner, wanting to let Aelin have one part of her life to herself. It felt different from the bond they had with one another. Calmer, less turbulent, maybe even steady. That’s what he’d gleamed from the short amount of times he’d let himself actually feel it. He knows it’s torturing Aelin not to tell Y/n, wanting to let her figure it out on her own.

“Should we just tell her?”

Rowan debated it. “She said to give her a reason, didn’t she? If that helps it snap in place, leaving both of us would be near unbearable for her.”

“But is that forcing her?” Once someone knows about a mating bond, it’s nearly inevitable it will snap into place.

“Were you going to let her go?”

Aelin’s silence answered his question. Now that she’d almost lost Y/n once, she’d hold on even tighter. “When?” When do we tell her, she meant.

“When do you see her next?.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Two days from now, around sundown.”

Y/n waited, pacing anxiously. Wondering if Aelin would keep her promise, if she would come by. She’d decided to ask Aelin how she intended to “fix this.” What she would actually do, and what would actually change.

The huge shock was that Rowan walked in behind her, the last person she was expecting to see.

Tension immediately filled the space. Y/n couldn’t figure out why he was here, or why Aelin would bring him with her.

But, Aelin gently took her hand and guided her to sit on the couch, subconsciously curling up against Aelin, and Rowan sat on her other side. Not close enough to touch, but enough that if she shifted a few inches, her knee would knock into his. He acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’ve felt a tug towards us before, haven’t you?” Aelin started.

A tug … there is something inside her, a small thread that wants to reach out, to connect to them on a deeper level, but she’s shoved it back inside so far. Aelin’s fingers ran through her hair, and she melted further, pressing against her side.

“I have,” y/n answered hesitantly.

“Towards Rowan too.” She clarified. This felt like a trap, like answering it might piss Aelin off. She’s always been protective, borderline possessive maybe. “It’s okay if you have,” she murmured, “I won’t be mad.” Aelin pressed a kiss to the top of her hair.

“I think so.” Aelin was … pleased. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s a mating bond.” Rowan answered instead, some kind of edge in that normally cold voice was dulled. Maybe even a tad soft. But, the words shocked her. She’d wondered once … but it didn’t seem possible, not with the two of them together.

She startled, pulling away from Aelin - standing up to pace around the room, back and forth - in front of the hearth. They watched her, eyes tracking her every move and expression, as if they could see the turbulent thoughts and waves of emotion flooding her mind.

“I need you to leave.” She swallowed, not meeting their eyes.

Surprisingly, they listened - only to stand right outside the door and she knew they wouldn’t leave until she spoke to them again. Only Aelin sent her a longing glance over her shoulder, one she saw through a mirror. Y/n couldn’t look at them, she couldn’t do it.

Somehow it made sense, but she couldn’t help feeling it’s some sort of cruel trick. Aelin would find a way. Would always find a way. As soon as the bond snapped, as soon as she lets it, she knew it would nearly destroy her to leave both of them. If she managed to - they’d find her - and if they couldn’t, they still had a bond between each other. Carranam. Blood Oath. Mates. If it was just Aelin, it would be easier to wrap her head around it, but Rowan too?

If it’s true … why would he avoid her for so long? That’s what she can’t figure out. Did Aelin make him or did he choose to? Y/n doesn’t know if she wants the truth. Or if this is something he’s being tugged into, by Aelin - to keep her here. But, everything made sense now. The yearning, the tug she felt towards both of them. It all seemed to come together.

She debates waiting to let the bond snap, either to punish them or herself. Her magic could do that, could suppress it down far enough it would keep that connection at bay - for a while at least. Just at the thought, the happy little threads in her chest turn to anger, pounding against what she is thinking. Against the betrayal, aching for them, begging her to let it snap, to be wholly theirs.

What role would she have? Y/n’s been Aelin’s for so long. Three of them - what would that mean … As long as they don’t try to tear her away from her life, her work, her home, then maybe it would work out. In the end, y/n knows she won’t have a choice. Her entire heart and soul is begging her to give in to it, to be theirs, not just Aelin’s, but to both of theirs.

Aelin and Rowan waited outside the door. Not patiently, but waited. They wouldn’t leave without speaking to her again, without figuring out what was going through her mind. The bond hadn’t snapped the moment she told them, and that filled Aelin’s head with worries. Was she using some of her magic to suppress it? To keep it from actually going into place. And if that was the case, what could Aelin do to stop that?

“You’re worrying too much,” Rowan murmured, gathering her in his arms. She leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his body take some of the chill away.

The door opened up, showing y/n, tear stains on her face, but she silently swung it open, enough for them to walk in, and closed it. She leaned back against the wall - not the door, not trapping them inside, but her arms were crossed. Nervous, on edge, defensive maybe.

“I’m not ready for it.” She said, before they could get a word in.

He felt Aelin’s surprise, not the reaction she expected, but he figured it would be something along these lines.

“I want to figure out,” she gestured between the three of them, “this first.”

“How do you keep the bond from snapping?” Aelin questioned her.

“I shove it down.” The same way Rowan has been shoving his down for the last year. Aelin had fully accepted it, even if it wasn’t on y/n’s side yet. “I don’t want to be torn away from my life.”

“We wouldn’t do that.” Aelin’s brows drew together as Rowan observed every reaction from both of them. Aelin … wouldn’t necessarily do that, but would try and eliminate any obstacle keeping her from y/n.

“I want to keep my work, my friends, my home.”

“I won’t take that away from you.” Rowan promised. He couldn’t promise on Aelin’s behalf, but he saw her sag slightly in relief.

“Okay.” She murmured. “We can try.”

“Trying to run away from it … to escape it, would be very painful.” Aelin’s lips pressed in a tight line.

“I know,” y/n’s voice was soft - her expression absent, like her mind was wandering.

Aelin strode slowly towards her, tugging her arms and slipping intertwining their fingers. “This is a good thing.” He watched how Aelin’s touch calmed her, relaxed her. Something - not jealousy - but desire ran through him. He wanted to have that effect on her. Maybe, one day, he would. But, they have to figure this out first, how to navigate it with the three of them.

“A good thing.” Y/n repeated, a slightly dazed look on her face. Aelin cupped her face, her thumbs running over her cheekbones before pulling her in for a gentle kiss.

Before Rowan could think further about it, he was moving.

She felt a warm body behind her as Aelin’s lips gently pressed against hers, coaxing her into a sweet kiss. Rowan. Rowan was behind her. His hands brushed down her shoulders, before his lips pressed against the spot where your neck met her shoulder. Involuntarily, she let out a small moan, giving Aelin the opportunity to nip at her bottom lip.

She didn’t know where to focus - on Rowan, Aelin, every sensation running through her - gentle but still seeming to set every inch of her on fire. Her body wanted them. Her heart did. Her soul did. It was so tempting to give in, to let the bond take over now, but she shoved that part back inside her. She wasn’t ready, not yet.

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass smut

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dira333 · 4 months

Text

Doomed to love you - Kakuzu x Reader

Warning: Angst with a bit of fluff, Dark Themes, no happy end - it's Kakuzu after all...

Words: 4,6k - tagging @snuggleboots, @missalienqueen and @wing-ed-thing because I think you might like it

Bonus points if you get what the Kid's names are all about...

10.

His father’s hand is heavy on Kakuzu’s shoulder.

Across from him, your mother does the same with you.

You’re shorter than him, your long hair tied into pigtails. There’s the ghost of freckles over your nose, but it could also be the sunlight, broken into a million pieces by the cascading waterfall Takigakure is soon going to be famous for.

You look like a kid, which shouldn’t be that weird. He’s just got ten years old himself.

But everyone at the Academy aims to look older while you seem perfectly fine looking the way you are.

The grip on his shoulder changes, shakes him out of his reverie.

He looks up at his father who stares down at him. Right. Don’t expect any help from the old man.

When he turns toward you, you’ve put your hands in front of your mouth as if to hide a smile. Your mother looks tired.

“Shake hands.” She tells you - or him?

So he does, stretches out his hand for you to take, and watches with almost morbid fascination as you lean down and press your lips to the back of his hand.

By the laws of his and your Clan, you’re married now.

There are no laws for Divorce in Takigakure yet.

Your mother dies a year later.

You move in with him because he’s your husband and has to care for you. His father likes to remind him of that every time there’s not enough food on the table for all three of you.

A good man, his father declares, makes sure that his wife has enough to eat.

A good father, Kakuzu wants to throw back at him, would make sure his child doesn’t have to go hungry. But he doesn’t. Because while he might not be scared of anything, he’s too smart to get into trouble with the old man. It’s less risky to stay hungry and give his portion to you.

By the time he’s twelve, he’s doing odd jobs on the side whenever he can, handing you the money whenever he’s sure no one can see it.

You’re a quiet one. He’s too tired to talk most nights anyway, so he’s glad you don’t chew off his ear when it’s time to slip into bed at night.

Ever since his father took up drinking and lost the house, they share a single room and huddle together for warmth at night.

“Kakuzu,” You whisper. His eyes snap open, Kunai ready. It takes him a moment to realize it’s you. You haven’t spoken in so long he’s forgotten the sound of your voice.

“What?”

“Sh.” You move a little closer. Your legs are warm against his. He’s never noticed before how warm you are. “Don’t wake your father. I’ve got a job.”

“A job?” He furrows his brows. “You should still be in school.”

“Like they teach me anything useful.” You quip back at him. “There’s this rich family who’s got a gaggle of kids. I make one hundred ryō an hour looking after them.”

His mouth waters at the number. One hundred ryō could buy him a decent meal every night.

“How many hours are we talking?”

They get to planning. Two days later everything is set in motion. They move out while his father is out drinking, taking with them what little stuff they can find use in. There are no rules that forbid them from signing a lease on an apartment now that he’s a full-fledged Shinobi, even at twelve years old.

You celebrate your first night with a home-cooked meal, the best he’s ever tasted. Sure the Miso soup could have used a little bit more salt and the fish had been charred at the edges, but there was no one looming over him, taking away all the good pieces, ruining every conversation with drunken rambling.

“I will never be like my father.” He promises and you smile. It lights up your face, and transforms you into a being of light and lightness.

Kakuzu’s only twelve years old, but he’s seen death and he’s seen misery and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if this is what love is, he will never get tired of it.

Kakuzu’s fifteen when he catches an illness that almost kills him.

Painful spasms shake him as he coughs, skin aflame with a fever that wants to devour him whole.

He barely remembers anything but finding himself with his head in your lap, your hands moving through his hair.

There’s a strange lightness to your voice as you talk to him. He can barely focus on your words but they sound like magic, like you’re summoning something from deep inside him.

When he wakes up from a deep slumber days later you look younger, somehow.

“What was that about?” He asks from the safety of his bed. One day, soon, he will buy a new mattress and a proper Couch, but it held out the last three years and he wants to have a bit more saved, feel a bit safer before he starts splurging again.

“What do you mean?” You’re at the stove, cooking something. He can smell ginger and citrus. You’re a terrible liar.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Kakuzu, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t bullshit me!” His temper comes and goes like a lightning strike, leaving him weak and shivering.

You stare back at him, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” He crawls out of bed. “I’m sorry.”

Kakuzu is fifteen when he finally understands the terms and conditions of this marriage.

Some Kekkai Genkais let you live longer than others.

On paper, it could be really just that simple. Your Kekkai Genkai lets you live on for years and years and years, your only threat the darkness of your mind.

“Many of us have killed themselves after they lost their partners.” You explain with his head in your lap again, your hand in his hair.

“Is that what happened to your mother?” You don’t answer his question but he can tell the truth from the way your eyes lose their light.

“But why me?” Kakuzu asks, two days later when you’ve curled up next to him after Dinner.

“I have two theories,” you explain softly. “Your Clan has brought forward many members with an exceptionally long lifespan.”

“And the other theory?”

“My Kekkai Genkai feeds on negative emotions. Misery. Sickness.” You fall silent. He doesn’t need you to keep going. He knows his family.

His father, who’s still not managed to drink himself to death. Whose temper is so famous that he’s often sent on three-man-missions alone.

His grandfather, who’s rumored to have killed his first wife over a burnt meal. Who’s still alive because he’s too stubborn to die, living off the roots of the great tree on the edge of Takigakure.

“I’ll never be like my father.” He promises you, again. You press a kiss to the back of his hand like you did when you met for the first time. It’s the only answer you give him.

Kakuzu is eighteen when his comrades make jokes about his wife.

They call her the beauty of Takigakure, say she’s even prettier because she never opens her mouth.

He gets cut from the mission roster for two weeks because he breaks one guys chin, and stabs the other guy in the thigh.

If you mind the blow to your wallet, you don’t show it. You’ve always been good at making a decent meal with the least amount of money spent.

But you sit him down when it happens again, a few months later.

“Stop it,” you tell him. “You’re becoming like your father.”

Fear engulfs him. He feels like he’s drowning, like that time he was six and his father threw him into the big cave, told him to swim or sink.

Warm lips press onto his, breathe oxygen into his lungs. He holds onto your waist to keep himself from going under once again.

As long as you’re there, as long as he has you, he will be able to keep afloat.

20.

Kakuzu turns twenty just two days before his daughter is born.

She’s got his eyes and your hair, his voice and your eerie stare.

You take one look at her and shake your head, sorrow washing over your features.

“What?” He asks, scared for his life. He’s never seen anything as precious as this little thing in your arms, that’s living and breathing and depending on him.

“She hasn’t got my Kekkai Genkai.” You say, the words like a knife to his heart.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

The nurse, an old woman that helps with births and the like for a few scraps of meat and a few coins on the side, pats your head.

“What a beautiful healthy thing you’ve got. Cherish it, will you?”

He can see the light dim in your eyes. He makes a promise to himself that even though it might flicker, he will make sure that it does not go out. Ever.

Kakuzu likes this little life of his.

He likes waking up to his daughter on his chest, gurgling and garbling, grabbing everything her little hands can get. He likes the sight of you feeding her, how her cheeks are plump and warm, her belly full of milk. He likes seeing you in the village unexpectedly, knowing that the bundle tied to your front is the living, breathing proof that you like him enough, that he might even love you.

It makes everything seem a little less burdensome. Passing his father in the streets, pretending not to hear the insults. Gong on missions that aren’t paid nearly enough for the danger they bring. The lack of good meat on the market, the hunger of the people in the streets.

Being able to come home to you, to your soft smiles and his daughters quiet mumbles.

He could live like this, he thinks. Forever, if necessary.

But his daughter is named Fū, after the soft winds that come and go.

When she’s just two, a sickness falls over the village. You do everything you can but just as the wind does not stay, neither does Fū.

Silence has fallen over his home.

Silence has fallen over Takigakure.

There are mornings when he hardly gets out of bed. There’s barely enough money in his pocket to afford the few scraps of meat that are offered at the market. But the beer is cheap.

If he drinks one, he can almost forget the way Fū looked in his arms. If he drinks five, he can almost forget she ever existed.

There’s a sharp pain in his left leg.

Kakuzu blinks himself awake and tries to pull away.

“Stop it.” Your voice is hard and cold.

“What-”

“You stepped into broken glass.” You tell him. “I’m sewing you back together.”

“Don’t.” He mutters meekly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t-” He stops. He doesn’t know.

“You promised, remember? You wouldn’t become like your father.”

“I’m not-”

“Kakuzu.” You move, your face now above his. You’ve turned younger again. Have you taken all his misery?

“You should just leave me.”

“I will never, ever leave you.” From you, it sounds more like a threat than a promise. He closes his eyes for a second. Fū blinks back at him. He opens his eyes again.

“What do you want?”

“For you to stop drinking.”

“Granted. What else?”

You falter. “I-”

He sits up and grabs your arms. You’re so close now he can taste your breath. It’s a good thing Fū never got your eyes. There’s a truth in them he will probably never get used to.

“I’ll tell you.” You promise. “Not today. But I will tell you.”

He does not touch a drop of alcohol ever again.

Six months later he’s one of the most renowned Shinobi of his village, not that it pays much.

Konoha is a steadily rising threat in the distance but at least the crop is good this year, leaving everyone well fed.

When he returns home from yet another mission, bruised and bloodied, loneliness hanging off him like a second skin, you take his hands and press it to your belly.

“I want to be a mother.” You tell him, eyes alight. “Again and again and again.”

Kakuzu almost shatters at the prospect.

He’s barely survived losing Fū. How can he go through that again?

But he owes you. For keeping him alive. For giving him Fū. For liking him enough.

He watches your belly grow and wishes for a way to know if this one will inherit your Kekkai Genkai or the lack of his.

Two days after his second child kicks for the first time, he’s called to the village leader.

The mission is as simple as it’s deadly. Kill Hashirama Senju.

He will not survive. He will not see his child grow up. But he will also not have to see it die.

Still, there’s something he can do about this. Milk the opportunities he’s got.

“What’s in it for me?” He asks, his nose lifted to the sky. “I have a family to feed.”

You’ve never clung to him as tightly as you do the day he leaves.

When you kiss him goodbye he can taste the words you’ll never say.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me behind. I love you.

He bends down and presses a kiss to the swell of your belly.

“Take care of your mother for me.”

You must have bewitched him. Cursed him in his sleep.

That’s the only reason he can find why he survives. It had been a suicide mission after all.

He returns home, glad to be alive. He’s stopped at the village entrance, dragged through different caves than those who’d lead him home. To you. To the child that’s about to be born.

Kakuzu misses all of it.

Instead, he’s sentenced to life in prison. And for what? For not dying on a mission that was meant to kill him?

He’s too proud to beg for forgiveness. But he asks for word on you.

They refuse him even that.

All that’s left is Fū, who visits him in his sleep. And you, whose voice he can hear in every waking hour. It’s the only thing keeping him from going insane.

The gurgling laughter alerts him.

It’s a sound that doesn’t belong in a prison.

“Shhhh….” A voice whispers. He knows that voice.

He calls your name, desperate to prove to himself that he hasn’t lost his mind.

You step out of the shadows into a lone ray of sunshine breaking through the cave walls. You’ve gotten a little older. Life up there must have been treating you well.

There’s a bundle tied to your front. You step closer, lift the bundle through the bars that have been made to keep out grown men, not a newborn baby.

“Her name is Mito,” you tell him quietly. “She’s got my Kekkai Genkai.”

Mito. To hope, to wish, to desire. It’s a fitting name for the little girl that’s peering up at him. She’s got your eyes, too.

“I’ve not been a good husband to you.” He tells you. “You should leave me. Find someone who’s a better fit for you.”

His words say one thing. His arms cradling Mito close another.

You reach one hand through the bars, cradle his cheek.

“I’m bound to you.” You state. “I will go nowhere without you.”

Kakuzu looks down at Mito, how she fits into his arms just as perfectly as Fū did.

“What life can I give you?” He asks the little girl. Her chubby fingers try to grab the marks on his hands. Prison tattoos.

Your thumb presses against his cheekbone. His eyes flicker up to yours. There’s a determination in them he’s never seen before.

“I’m bound to you.” You repeat. “Not to this village.”

Kakuzu feels strangely nostalgic as he leaves the city, four beating hearts and a forbidden Jutsu in his possession.

In a way, it’s just like when you fled his fathers house, took everything with you what you could use.

This time he’s not holding your hand through it.

This time you’re waiting on the other side of the cave system, the little ox wagon hidden from sight.

Mito sleeps soundly when he arrives, bloodied and proud.

She sleeps through everything. Her parents departure from the only place they ever called home. Her father's transformation through Earth Grudge Fear.

He briefly wonders if she notices a difference when she looks at him. If his little girl can tell the difference between the man he was before and the man he is now.

Because he can tell that it has changed you.

You grow older outside of Takigakure. There’s not enough Misery to sustain you. One morning he wakes up to crowfeet around your eyes. He finds a grey hair on your head a week later.

It brings a new fear to his life.

And fear brings out demons he didn’t know he carried.

The little house he built for you lies in ruins over a fit of anger.

Mito hides behind you, fear in her eyes that look so much like you.

He’s breathing hard, doesn’t even know why he flipped in the first place.

You rake a hand through his hair, pull him close until your heads touch.

He can taste your breath, can feel the misery lift off him.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him calmly, “You will leave. Go on a mission. Bring me back a son.”

50.

He’s fifty now.

Mito got married last year. He barely sees her anymore.

There’s a clear distaste in her voice when she speaks to him.

She looks at him like he looked at his father.

Does she promise her husband that she will never be like her father?

Does he believe her?

Because Kakuzu has seen what her temper can do.

She’s his daughter after all.

Yet, he believes in the power of names. He believes that she can be what she desires.

His youngest daughter is two months old. You named her Rin in his absence.

He’s missed her birth, Han’s too. But he held your hand through Yagura’s birth, pretended not to shatter on the inside when you took one look at the little boy.

“He’s not got the Kekkai Genkai.”

Still. Yagura might be his favorite child.

He’s a quiet boy. Likes to hide behind Utakata when no one’s looking for him.

Utakata is his oldest living child, found on that first mission that you sent him on.

“Bring me back a son,” you had said and he’d thought it nonsense until he stumbles over him, starving on the side of the road.

Kakuzu doesn’t mind coming home now. He doesn’t mind staying away either.

It’s a fragile thing, this thing between the two of you.

Should he call it love? He doesn’t have anything to compare it to.

He knows you’re never lonely, not with the gaggle of kids that run around your feet all day. He knows you won’t age, not when there’s almost always a kid that cries because it got hurt in one way or another. Not when there’s a growing village nearby, of farmers and their women, with a baker and a monk, all of them looking for someone to tell their sorrows to.

He knows his temper is better left outside his home, directed at people who have the misfortune of crossing him at the wrong time in the wrong place.

Yet he longs to be by your side just as much as you long to have him with you.

He can tell by the way you pull him close when he’s home. How there’s no one allowed to sleep in your bed but him.

When you kiss him, he feels like everything will turn out all right, eventually.

When you hold him close he can almost forget the way Fū looked the day she died.

When he’s got his arms around you, nose buried in your hair he can pretend he won’t die the day Yagura dies.

67.

Long before he turns seventy, Kakuzu understands how you feel.

He still looks barely past thirty. It might be Earth Grudge Fear or a Kekkai Genkai his Clan never bothered to explore, but you and he both have lived too many years on this cruel earth to still be this young.

He’s so tired.

Mito lost her first child to a famine.

Yagura lost an arm trying to save Utakata from a mob. So what if his son was born in the land of water? That does not take away his right to live!

There will never be an end to this madness, this sorrow.

There will never be an end to your life if you don’t make sure of it.

“Don’t die.” He tells you at night.

“Don’t die.” You tell him when you see him off.

There’s but a thin line separating the two of you from death and it’s the other's presence.

He cannot leave you behind. He will not leave you behind.

If this isn’t love, what is?

81.

Kakuzu’s barely over eighty when he meets Pain.

Bright orange hair and eyes as cold and determined as yours.

He pretends he’s not interested. But he is.

He’s long grown impatient of this world. Of its neverending cycle of pain and misery and sorrow. Why must his children die? Why must you suffer to stay alive? Why must he stay away from you to keep you safe yet come back to make sure you keep on living?

Mito barely looks at him now.

She’s learned by now that she can never outrun his temper. It’s etched into her bones.

Yagura has grown almost silent after the loss of yet another of his siblings.

He’s a grown man, hair turning grey, yet he still crawls into his father's lap when he’s home.

He wants to go back to the simple days.

If only he could turn back time.

If only he could hold Fū one more time.

91.

Hidan trails behind him.

There’s movement in the bushes.

Hidan reacts immediately, draws his scythe, curses loudly.

“Shut up.” Kakuzu gnarls. His hand shoots out, catches the perpetrator around the neck.

It’s a little girl, Kunai drawn. His mouth turns dry at the sight. Her eyes remind him of his little Rin, never mind the fact that Rin’s already got three kids of her own.

“Let me down!” She screams bloody murder at him. He drops her like she asked for. She runs away with bloody knees.

“Aw, why did you let her get away?” Hidan asks. “I could have sacrificed her.”

“Take grown-ups for that.” He huffs.

They rest in an inn that night.

Kakuzu thinks of you like he always does when he counts his money. He should check in with you soon, to make sure you’ve got enough for the next months. Winter has been hard this year and you’ve picked up another stray. He got a beetle plush at a fair last month, won it in one of those rare moments when Hidan’s occupied with something stupid. He knows Yagura is going to love it.

“We do offer some special fun if you’re interested.” The innkeeper's grin speaks volumes.

“What do you have in mind?” Kakuzu asks. He’ll kill the guy if he gives him a reason to.

And the guy is stupid enough to do so, dragging a filthy little girl out of the kitchen.

It’s the girl that tried to trap them in the woods earlier, clothes filthy from crawling around the kitchen.

“How much for her?” Kakuzu asks before he can stop himself. The girls' eyes remind him of Fū in this low light. The price is low, telling of the man’s desperation. Or maybe he’s just not a good businessman.

“I’ll take her.” He pays upfront and demands another serving of food, pushing it toward the girl who’s now sitting next to him, trying to crawl into herself.

“Eat.” He demands roughly. “You’re nothing but skin and bones.”

“I’ll let you have your fun then.” The innkeeper moves backward, a slimy grin distorting his face.

“Hidan,” Kakuzu’s tone lacks any emotion. “Take care of him. But be quiet about it.”

They leave the next morning a little richer - dead innkeepers don’t need any live savings - and with a child slowing them down.

“What’s that all about? You a pedophile?” Hidan eyes the kid curiously.

“Shut up.”

They turn away from the main road.

It’s less than two days over the mountains if they keep moving at this pace. Most of the time he’s got to carry the kid anyway.

“What’s your name?” Hidan asks the first night when they’re sharing a rabbit Kakuzu caught.

“Kushina.” The girl says before directing her eyes at Kakuzu. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Why should I?” He asks roughly. “There’s no meat on you.”

A rustling in the bushes gives him away.

Kakuzu stops short, hand outstretched to keep Hidan back.

“Yagura.” He calls. “I’ve already spotted you.”

Yagura steps out with a smile. His hair has turned almost completely grey yet his eyes are that of a child.

“Have you got me a present?” He asks.

“Why would I get you one? You still suck at hiding.”

Yagura just laughs, stills when he spots Kushina.

“Oh! You brought me a friend!” He crouches down in front of the girl, his remaining hand outstretched. “Hi. I’m Yagura. Do you want to meet my Mom? She likes children.”

Kushina looks up at Kakuzu as if asking for directions. He jerks his head, telling her to go.

Yagura whisks her away, never as quick on his feet as when he’s presented with a new sibling.

Hidan’s muttering something behind him.

Right. He shouldn’t have brought him here.

“Listen.” He mutters darkly. “You can turn around and go back to the village we came from. I’m going to meet you there in a week.”

“No way.” Hidan grins. “I want to see what you’ve got hidden in the woods. Some secret family?”

“So what?” Kakuzu gnarls. “If you dare to threaten them-”

Hidan falls silent, face strangely void of any emotion.

“Fine.” He huffs eventually. “But if you’re late, I’ll leave without you.” He turns back, coat swishing behind him as he moves quickly.

Kakuzu’s not sure what he did to be granted such a favor, but he’s not going to second guess it.

He rarely gets time off as it is.

Kushina’s already laughing freely with Yagura by the time he has to leave again.

All those years of misery forgotten in just a few days.

You pull him close, hug him tight.

You barely look older than thirty.

Most people tell you that life must have treated you well.

Kakuzu knows the truth.

“What’s your next target?” You ask.

“The main one in the land of fire.” He recalls. “The nine tails.”

“That’s the worst one, right?” You ask. There’s something scratching at the back of your throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so tired.” You tell him. “I’m so tired, Kakuzu. I want to go home.”

“I know.”

He kisses you, tries to tell you through touch what he cannot say with words.

I love you. Don’t leave me. I’m with you till the end.

“This is the last one.” You tell him when he pulls away. “You hear me? No more kids. No more missions.”

He nods. “I promise.” He says but he knows just as well as you do that his promises don’t mean much.

“I love you.” You whisper, for the first time in over eighty years.

You’ve never had to say it before.

Later, when it’s much too late for it, he’ll wonder why you said it.

He’ll regret he never said it back.

#my writing #Kakuzu x reader #Kakuzu angst #kakuzu #Akatsuki x reader #Akatsuki angst #Naruto x reader #Naruto angst

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