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gabriel-xander · 11 days

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Don't Forget

A/N: Me when the title of the fic is "don't forget" but all I do is forget to update it on tumblr only

[Sans x Female!Reader]

13: It's So Great, If You're Not a Fucking Murderer

Caution Warning: Brief description of a developing panic attack. Though it does NOT happen, I thought a word of warning would be appropriate regardless.

♪⁠────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

You were laughing your ass off sitting in the snow. Sans was less amused about the whole ordeal, laying on his back with a dead look in his eyes. Namely, you two covered in slobber after encountering Greater Dog. Poor Sans especially got the worst part of it since he’s literally bones. He only managed to get rid of him by summoning a bone and chucking it hard, very far away.

You shuffle a little closer to him, still full of giggles, “Here, ha-ha! Stay still for a second, yeah?”

He only grumbles from where he is, not bothering to get up. You untie your shawl and remove it from your shoulders. Your dress’s neckline is straight across, leaving a lot of your chest and shoulders exposed. You shiver from the cold, already knowing you’re probably going to get sick Actually no, you were probably already getting sick the moment you fell into the snow right outside the Ruins.

“You gonna get up and do it yourself, or are you gonna make me do it?”

“huh? do what?” Sans finally looks at you, “what’re you gonna do with that?”

“Clean your head. The snow is starting to freeze to that dome of yours.”

The monster sits up with a soft grunt, wincing at the feeling of the ice sticking to him. He waves a hand dismissively.

”nah, don’t ruin your fancy fur coat.”

It’s not made of fur, but sure okay.

Sans starts wiping his hand with his gloved hand but drops it after two seconds. “…..hold on fur a second, if you can throw me a bone here, that’d be great.”

Bro called your shawl a fur coat just to make that damn pun, didn’t he?

“Ha-ha! Yeah, yeah,” You get on your knees to shuffle closer, “Let me know if I accidentally rub too hard, okay? That’s what-”

“-that’s what she said. i beat you to it,” Sans rolls his eyes but his smile gets bigger.

”Ah! How dare you steal my thunder?!”

Despite being totally offended, you still help out the skeleton. You’re trying to be gentle since one, you barely know the guy, and two, touching a bone is so scary. Yes, you know he’s a monster, his skeleton is different from yours. But seeing a bone tricks your mind into believing they’re incredibly more fragile than they are.

So far he seems to like it. His eyes have closed and he’s leaning back a bit. This would totally be a nice moment if you were also freezing from the slobber drying on your own face. After a minute, you were confident you got it all off.

“There we go, just as shiny as the day you were born.” Wait a damn minute. “Wait, were you birthed from the pussy?”

“was i what?”

“WAIT, IS THAT OFFENSIVE TO MONSTERS?!”

Sans’ shoulders were shaking and miraculously, his wide grin was wobbling. When he talks he sounds like he was desperately trying to contain his laughter.

“w-wait, as-ask that again!”

“No way!!”

You scramble up to your feet and aggressively shake your shawl to take off the snow. You make sure to do it right in his face, smiling at his laughter that he’s now allowing to be free. You can see Snowdin town just up ahead! Right pass the bridge that is giving you the biggest burst of anxiety that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Letting the monster be, you finally get around to wiping off your own face. It was kind of pointless though since it’s already dried off.

Gross.

But worth it.

“Ugh, remind me to take a shower later,” You scrunch up your nose, folding the shawl over your arm, “We’re almost there, right? Let’s get crack-a-lackin’.”

Sans eyes you as he stands up, “you’re not cold?”

“Pfft—What, scared of a little skin?” You shake your head, “This thing is too dirty to wear now. I’ll be fine.”

He winces, “sorry ‘bout that.”

“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who used it. Anywayyy, no more sulking, bone boy. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner I can take that shower.”

The skeleton monster grumbles playfully under his breath, walking by your side.

“‘m not sulking. you’re sulking.”

“Waa, waa, waa.”

You almost said the full video reference, but you have the feeling that you two aren’t there yet where you can playfully call him a bitch. Maybe one day, but you don’t know if you will actually call him a bitch. He’s not very bitch material.

Cock material, for sure. You’d even argue that he’s (mother)fucker material, too. But a bitch? He just doesn’t look like “bitch” would fit him well.

Top Ten Insults that Appropriately Fit Sans Undertale.

Number One:

…

Burger King Foot Lettuce-

“…hello? earth to [y/n]—uhm-this place to [y/n]?”

You shake your head to escape your thoughts, “Wha-Huh? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“yeah, clearly. you good? what were you thinking so hard about?”

‘Oh, dude. You do NOT wanna know.’

You notice that you two stopped right at the bridge. Your hand was on top of the left post that was holding the rope to the bridge.

The…

The long bridge…

Thousands of meters from the ground…

One wrong move, and you’re done.

One wrong step, and you’re falling.

Your natural reaction would be to do your best to maintain a feet-first landing. It would not end well for you of course: breaking your legs, pelvis, and lower-spinal column.

That would kill you.

That would…

Your heart feels wrong. Beating too fast and it’s just too heavy. It’s too big for your chest-it shouldn’t be in there. It makes you want to remove it from your chest to get rid of this feeling from your body.

If you breathe more, you can make more room in your chest. If you do that then—

But you have to do it now-You have to do it now because if you don’t then your chest will burst.

… Ah. Wait.

You blink owlishly, “Huh.”

“what is it?”

“I’m terrified of heights.”

“uhhh, crap.”

Sans hesitates before he gently takes your hand from post and forces you to take a few steps back by getting in your space. You frown at this, but allow yourself to step away. You feel a little light headed, but nothing a couple of deep breaths can’t help with. Woah, that was… that was a little too close for comfort.

“Sans, what are you doing?”

“come on, we’re gonna take a shortcut,” Sans gives you a wink, “didn’t you say you wanna take that shower asap?”

“Well, yeah, but…” But you don’t want to skip out on exploring Snowdin right now…. “If-If you could’ve teleported us-”

“-shortcut.”

“Sure. If you could’ve given us a shortcut the whole time, why not do that in the very beginning?”

“and make you miss out on the Snowdin forest experience?”

“…Okay, fine. But I just, um,” Well… You guess Snowdin Town exploration can wait another day. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”

“only if you want it to.”

“I'm not a masochist, but thanks for the offer.”

“what the hell is a masochist?”

You start laughing.

There’s confusion (somehow) on his face.

“Oh, shit. You’re serious. You don’t know what it is?”

“am i supposed to?”

“You know what, bone boy? I think we can save this conversation for another day.” You hold your hand up for no other than that you like talking with your hands sometimes. “So uh, how does this work? Do I gotta click my heels three times?”

“you keep telling me these things that i’m pretty sure only make sense if you were tellin’ another human,” Sans snorts, “you don’t gotta do anything. give me your hand.”

“Ah-ha ha, uh, you still have it, Sans.”

You both look at your joined hands simultaneously. Your cheeks begin to warm up while Sans.

Get this.

He is blushing, though it was subtle, it was still noticeable since his skull is an off white color.

But it’s not blue.

He’s actually blushing red!

You suppose it makes sense…! During the date with Papyrus and even when you flirt with him, his blush is red. So of course Sans shouldn’t be any different if they’re both related.

Ah, but you’re so used to the guy being associated with cyan, that it threw you off!

It’s not a bad look on him at all though, just different.

“No need to be so shy about it, bone boy.” You give his hand a very light squeeze, “What’s next on the plan?”

“hah, well it’s only fitting for you to close your eyes now.”

You roll your eyes dramatically before doing as you're told. The skeleton monster takes a deep breath quietly, willing away his blush because that shit’s just embarrassing.

“now give me a sec to work my magic.”

“Sure thing, bone boy.” You reply with a smile, keeping your eyes closed.

Sans doesn’t actually need that second, it’s just an excuse to take this time to… observe you.

It looks like you’ve completely calmed down, thankfully. He’s had his fair share of panic attacks before and they’re a bitch to deal with. Luckily, you seemed to have recognized it on your own and brought yourself out of it. The monster hoped that his own intervention had helped somewhat, too.

Guess that means he should make sure you avoid extreme heights from now on. You’re really nice, so he doesn’t want you to stress out too much if he can just help you out.

Pretty dangerous for you to admit that so openly, though.

Also pretty embarrassing he forgot he was holding your hand this whole time, if he’s honest. Not to sound cliche and corny, but he didn’t realize because your hand just… it fit naturally with his.

Then again, he noticed that humans seem to have a similar structure to him and Papyrus. So he probably shouldn’t think too much of it.

Oh, by the way.

“we’re here,” Sans, to be nice, squeezes your hand the same you did to him, “bet you didn’t even notice, huh?”

Sans waits for you to open your eyes before finally letting you go finally. You blink in surprise, looking around frantically and rather dramatically.

“Goddamn it, Sans! Where the hell are we?!”

He can’t help but snort, “my house in snowdin town.”

Your eyes flicker to your left then they widen. Sure enough once you actually stopped goofing around and take a second, you are indeed standing in front of a house.

A wooden, two-story home with Christmas lights hung shrewdly around the left beam holding up the sun shade above the door. The lights are also hung on the very top shingles and balcony on the right side of the house. You don’t remember what they’re called (even if the Author knows), but on the front door there’s that typical Christmas decoration that’s just a bunch of leaves in a circle.

There’s also a pirate flag. At the top. For some reason. Maybe to help the locals identify this house as the skele-bros?

“This place…” You murmur softly, “It’s…”

Uh oh. Do you—Do you not like their house?! Is this a deal breaker?? Not that he gives a shit if you don’t like the house, but will you really refuse to stay here if it doesn’t fit your taste?!

“It’s so cute!” You beam, clasping your hands together, “Awe, what a cute little home!”

“…little?”

You laugh, “Ha-ha! Is that what you’re gonna focus on?”

His grin is one of relief, “would you rather i give you the cold shoulder?”

“Booo! The one was weak!”

“you did not just boo me.”

“And I’ll do it again, bone boy.”

“let’s just go inside. i’m sure it’ll be ice to meet brother.”

You nod nervously, “Right, right, right. You said he was your younger brother, so…I probably shouldn’t swear, right?”

Sans just shrugs,“preferably, but he’s a grown adult so it ain’t nothing he’s heard of before. also, i’m not gonna tell you what to do, so it shouldn’t matter what i say, anyway.”

Well, yeah but…

“Alright, we gotta talk about it before we go in. We should really put down some ground rules,” You face the other properly, crossing your arms, “This is still your house, Sans. Yours and Papyrus’. I don’t like being controlled, but you still need to put up your boundaries.”

You know what? Sans actually appreciates that. He was trying to be chill and nice about it, but it looks like you have more respect for him than he does for himself.

“hmph,” A small, airy laugh escapes him, “alright, alright. i’m convinced. if that’s the case then, let’s talk about it with my brother.”

You step back.

”Ppp-You first, buddy.”

He rolls his eye-lights while fishing out the keys from his pocket. However, just as he was about to unlock the door, it unlocks from the other side.

And the door swings open.

Taglist:

@lemonboy011

@adriixboo

#fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #don't forget fanfiction #sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale

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clickerflight · 1 year

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Oh, how far you've fallen Part 2

I'mma go ahead and call this story uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, actually, IDK. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna continue this story for a bit so if you come up with a good title for this, let me know.

Also, I hope this all makes sense. I've been really out of it today so hopefully that doesn't reflect in my writing. I was fighting for my life figuring out what happened next and then made potential for a whole series. Wild times out here.

Content warning: somewhat dehumanization? Kidnapping. For sure selling someone into being a lab rat, electrocution

Part 1

.........................................

Agent/Henchman - Ivan/Gale

Villain - Kolt

Scientist - LeAnn

…………………

Kolt was so incredibly delirious, but thankfully was too tired to struggle in Ivan’s arms. Ivan was convinced that Kolt didn't even know what was going on. He murmured indistinguishable words as Ivan carried his old mentor’s impossibly thin frame through the halls of the labs, outrunning the flashlights behind them.

Ivan turned a corner, the map of the building clear in his mind. He did everything he could to keep from being cornered. He only had one chance here.

Well, less than one chance, really. He was royally screwed no matter if he succeeded or didn’t since being here was an extreme middle finger to his handler. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was each new breath, each new step that didn’t slip on the slick tile, each new heartbeat he could feel under Kolt’s skin.

The fire escape came into view and a relieved laugh bubbled out of Ivan, mimicked softly by Kolt. He shouldered his way through, alarms screaming through the building making Kolt flinch. Down the stairs, leaping down onto a dumpster in the alleyway, and he was off.

He was in the clear now.

Well, he thought he was.

A dark van pulled up, blocking the alley, and equally dark clothed men came pounding out of it, guns in hand.

Ivan was torn between running and staying still to try and explain himself to his agency. His choice was made for him when Kolt whimpered, pressing his horribly scarred and bruised face into his shirt, trembling. Ivan sighed, letting the tension drain from his muscles and he stood still as the agents took his weapons from him and led him into the van.

With that, they were off.

The getaway vehicle was, admittedly, convenient.

……………………

“Terribly sorry for keeping you up, Kate,” Ivan said, a little ashamed as he stepped out of the van, still holding Kolt who refused to let go of him.

Kate stood with her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised. “That’s all you have to say? Ivan, do you not remember how long we’ve been working in that lab? You have quite possibly ruined everything we have been working on for months!”

Ivan didn’t reply, simply shifting Kolt in his arms so she could see the scars and injuries he carried on his frail body. Kolt was nearly unconscious at this point.

She frowned. “Kolt?”

“Yeah,” Ivan said, tucking Kolt against himself again, sharing his body warmth with the man in a way he had never imagined he would. He had never imagined Kolt being small enough for him to carry in the first place.

Kate frowned thoughtfully. “Come on,” she sighed. “We’ll figure this out inside.”

They walked through the underground garage, Kate's heels echoing around them as Ivan watched her walk ahead. He had no idea how this was going to play out. He remembered what happened when he was captured back when he was still Gale. He had the scars to remember it by. Would they do the same to Kolt? There was no way. He was so fragile. Besides, Ivan doubted that Kolt even remembered anything interesting and had been trapped in that building for long enough that he wouldn’t know anything that had happened in the last few months in the villain community.

Kolt was finally unconscious as they reached the elevator, and only a couple of the darkly clothed agents joined them in the elevator as the others headed to go take their gear off. There was silence in the elevator for a moment before Ivan cleared his throat.

“So, what happens now?”

“We will discuss that when my guest gets here.”

“Alright, but Kate. Please keep in mind that he’s-”

“I understand, Ivan,” she snapped, not even turning to look at him. “But you are not in a position to ask for anything for him. Understand me? I appreciate why you have done this, however, that does not change the fact that you are most certainly in trouble and have made my job much harder.”

Ivan huffed silently, annoyed but he didn’t dare argue with his handler. He stared at his reflection, still horrified with how tiny Kolt had become. He’d been taller and more bulked than Ivan. He had been intimidating, once, though you wouldn’t be able to guess that now.

The door opened and Kate led the way down to the med bay. “Drop him off here. You’re coming with me to speak with my guest.”

Ivan gave her a look and very reluctantly lay Kolt down, coaxing his unconscious fingers out of his clothing and into the sheets on the bed. A medic came out from the back, rubbing his eyes and he winced when he saw Kolt.

“See what you can do for him,” Kate told the medic, who nodded.

Ivan hesitated for one moment before he followed Kate back to the elevator. The silence this time was longer and more uncomfortable. Ivan was glad when they reached the conference floor. He wanted to get his reprimand over with.

Kate turned into one of the rooms and Ivan froze.

Dr. LeAnn stood up, a prim smile on her face. “Hello, Kate,” she said as one of the agents shoved Ivan into the room, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to guide him to the seat next to where Kate was getting seated.

“What’s going on here?” Ivan asked, voice trembling with anger as he shook off the agent’s hand.

Kate sighed. “Ivan, sit down.”

“No! What is she doing here?!”

Kate shared a look with Dr. LeAnn. “Ivan, we have been working on infiltrating that lab for months. LeAnn was our informant on the inside in exchange for a favor.”

“Oh, so your name is Ivan?” LeAnn said, eyeing him over. She curled her lip and said, “You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. I hear you were Kolt’s dog for a while. One would think you would know how to obey after all of that.”

Ivan hissed, his anger becoming incomprehensible.

Kate sighed. “See what I’ve had to work with? I do apologize for all of that. There is an issue, however. Kolt cannot go back with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” LeAnn asked, turning her anger on Kate as agents held Ivan back.

“You have damaged him far past the point the contract has allowed. And according to the records we have from your conversation with Ivan, you have allowed him to become useless. We asked you to turn him into a weapon, not do this to him.”

“Trust me, I tried,” LeAnn said with a shrug. “Weapons take the right base to make, and he wasn’t it. He broke before I wanted him too, and I wasn’t even getting started. I did, however, learn a lot about his genetics. All I need is a base who will withstand more than he could and I could give you a weapon per the contract.”

“Kate,” Ivan growled warningly. She glared over at him.

“Shut up, Ivan. I am trying to clean up the mess you made here.”

“You were trying to turn him into a weapon!? What could you possibly want him for!?”

Kate closed her eyes, taking a slow and steadying breath like she was talking with an impossible child, and Ivan started seeing red as indignation fueled the fire already started in him.

“Ivan, to fight villains, sometimes you need a villain weapon. Is it that hard to understand?”

LeAnn was eyeing him again, something hungry in her eyes as Ivan tried to keep his anger at bay, the fear that dropped into his stomach helping somewhat.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, we are,” LeAnn said. “You’re lucky I have so much pull at the lab. I should still be able to pull enough trust to continue using their equipment and experiments after this debacle… that is, Kate, as long as I start working on a project.”

Kate looked between LeAnn and Ivan and Ivan felt the fear of God enter into every cell in his body, images of Kolt’s wretched state flashing behind his eyes.

“No! NO NO! There is NO way that I am going to HRNGG-”

Ivan fell to the floor twitching as two agents held stun batons to his ribs.

Kate clicked her tongue, watching Ivan writhe on the floor. “He might make a good base. He handled training here surprisingly well. I’ll just need to call the boss and get permission first.”

LeAnn nodded, that hungry look in her eyes becoming ravenous as the agents let up and Ivan lay gasping on the floor.

Ivan came to his senses as a soft ringing tone sounded from Kate’s phone, the silence stretching on as he tried to get his limbs to work for him and get him off the ground, to escape, to find Kolt, to anything.

Someone picked up and Kate began. “Hello, it’s Handler Kate. You are aware of the incident, correct?”

Silence.

“Dr. LeAnn is requesting Ivan. She thinks she can give him Kolt’s powers and turn him into the weapon.”

Silence.

“Yes, sir. We have Kolt in custody. Dr. LeAnn’s professional opinion is that he will be useless for the project.”

“No,” Ivan said weakly, getting his arms underneath him, but someone put a heavy boot on his back and shoved him back down, making it hard to draw a full breath.

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Would you like us to get rid of Kolt?”

“No, I might need him for extra DNA,” LeAnn said quickly.

“Ah, nevermind. Dr. LeAnn said she still might need him.”

Silence.

“Perfect. Good evening, sir.”

She ended the call and smiled at LeAnn. “Well, he’s all yours.”

“Perfect,” she said with an excited though professional lilt to her tone. “You heard her boys. Get him ready for transport.”

Ivan scrambled at the floor, the plastic threads of the carpet scratching at his fingers as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and then he knew no more.

Part 3

Taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

#henchman whumpee #scientist whumper #villain whumpee #handler #whump #writing #not too much whump in this one #set up for stuff in the long run #dude #I'm in so much pain RN #mmy body is not being very cash money right now

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djemsoresu · 2 years

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Scene from an obikin F1 AU I’m kind of writing? Obi-Wan tries to leave their team (albeit not willingly) and Anakin is evidently not having it:

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Anakin storms into his motorhome much like a tornado, the same way he stormed into his life a decade ago.

“I’m- I’m coming with you.” The blonde says, pacing around the space in front of his sofa. His hair, now almost to his shoulders, flaying around in a craze. Force, he loves this man.

“How could they do this! We’re supposed to be together we’re a team. The Team.” Obi-Wan now sees his Anakin for what he is, his youthful face highlighted by his red rimmed eyes.

“Anakin.” He speaks, calls softly, attempting to stop Anakin in his crazed muttering. “Anakin, dear one.”

The other man’s head lift from the floor, their eyes meeting each other. A single contact, a single glance, and Anakin’s fragility seams to shatter in a single instance.

“They can’t. You can’t. I’m leaving if you are.” and oh does Anakin’s tears leave a tear in his heart, the droplets flowing down unmarred skin.

“No.” he says, firmly.

Anakin stops. “No?”

“You can not come with me, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan sees right then, how Anakin’s shoulder tenses, his body bracing to pounce.

But then small, as if a wounded animal, “Do you… not want me with you? Is that it?”

and oh, Obi-Wan stands in an instant. He approaches Anakin, taking his face in his hands. He feels Anakin’s soft curls brushing along his skin and wipes away the flowing tears in his eyes.

“Never, dear one.” He says, taking the taller man’s head into the crook of his neck, softly brushing his hair. “Trust that I will always want to be with you.”

“Then why?” he murmurs into his shoulder, voice muffled by Obi-Wan’s now stained jumper.

“You’re… Anakin, look at you.” he lets go of the grip he has on Anakin, letting him let up his head so they could once again have their eyes trained on each other. “You are young still, my dear. You have… so much of your career ahead of you. I can not, in good conscience, allow you to make such a move.”

“Well fuck that. I don’t need your permission, I don’t need another championship, a fancy factory with a wind tunnel!”

Obi-Wan, after knowing Anakin for their entire lives, knows full well what a frantic Anakin Skywalker looks like. After spending a decade by Anakin’s side in their garage, after endless nights in bed on every continent of the planet. He knows what Anakin is, and what Anakin Skywalker needs most. Knows too, how though he doesn’t need, he wants.

“I just need you, I just want you, I just want to be with you.” and oh the tears stream even harder now, his long lashes dropping them down to his team shirt.

“I know.” he sighs, feeling his heart clench the hardest it ever had since a crash at Eau Rouge. “I know, Anakin.”

“But I will not let you do this to yourself, I will never forgive any possibility of ruin towards you due to my own doing.” if Obi-Wan were a weaker man, he would already be kneeling on his knees.

“I can’t, Anakin. Please don’t make me watch that, please don’t allow me to be complicit in it.” And oh he so reveres in the altar of Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, with his glistening blue eyes and soft golden hair. Anakin, with his glowing skin and tight muscles. Anakin, with his endless laugh and utter devotion.

His Anakin. The love of his life.

Obi-Wan would not stand for any threat towards Anakin’s dreams, of his wants to beat every record in the history of Formula 1.

No, instead he will kneel for the opposite.

And so he does, placing himself in front of his love, head directly above his knees.

He closes his eyes, “Please.”

#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobu #f1 au #a.wrt

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psychoteacup · 2 years

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don't ruin this, please.

you woke something deep inside of me. i was shaking, sweating, when i found you. you took my hand and you rushed me to follow, quickly, run before they figure it out. don't make any noise, don't look back. if you do, the numbness will notice you're gone. the greyness will locate the bits of color coming back to your rosy cheeks. this is not the time to doubt. let me sweep you off your feet.

and i let you, because somehow, someway, i've been waiting for you to wake me up with this kiss. a kiss and beautiful words. melodies that have the power to destroy every wall inside of my heart that told me not to feel anything.

i was in a cloudy grey room before. sitting in an uncomfortable chair. looking out a window to more grey buildings and lives. a life void of any kind of joy. time wouldn't fly here, no, it would drag its nails on your skin, but you wouldn't feel pain. it was only a confirmation that you were still there, locked up, a prisoner of your own mind.

and then i saw your brown eyes i realized, lucky girl. i think about you and your mind. i thank you, more than anything, for making me feel seen. and i want that, i want more. i want to make people feel the same way. i want to be something. i want to be somebody. i want to make art, to make sure everyone has colors to share. even if dark shades or bloody reds. any feeling is better than none.

i've spent my twenties in pain. in doubt, in fear, in rejection. floating around space, with nothing to grab onto. fighting wars without weapons, being pushed down to the ground, bleeding. sometimes i'd make my way back up, for a while, to fight some more. but the war never ends. and my will does.

so i gave up, gave in. i focused somewhere else. i distracted myself. created a bubble of disbelief. i didn't want to see all the unhealed cuts on my body. it's like the tree in the forest, if i don't see it, it doesn't hurt.

i've been used to commercial propaganda, where our lives are just made to consume. they need control, they need more. the less we feel, the better.

i was always so afraid of making mistakes. of not mattering, of not being good enough. of rejection and failure. that's why i never even tried. the possibility of failing paralyzed me. put me back in my chains. if i never try, at least it doesn't mean i've lost.

but i did, many many years. i lost inumerous moments and experiences. i locked myself and kept the key. it was too scary out there. the roars and the power of everyone else. i felt so small, i felt to fragile. everyone seemed to be running after the same pot of gold.

what had I to offer then?

i'm a paper airplane.

i don't know where to go from now. i don't.

but you sparkled something inside of me. the tiniest bit of flame that is slowly burning me inside out. i don't know where to look, but at least i'm looking. at last, my eyes can search.

it's far from easy, or painless. i hate to face so many demons ahead, and i know this journey is going to be the longest. i just need one tiny step at a time. build up my courage. gather some more tools along the way, maybe a sword. it's like a videogame, ground zero. i have nothing, but at least i'm moving ahead.

my fight right now is to not be stuck in one place.

my path right now is to look for myself. find me.

i'm sure the pieces of me are scattered into an insensible puzzle. i'll put it together. piece by piece. and what doesn't fit, we'll paint with gold.

maybe one day there will be flowers, warmth, a bit of sun shining in the sky. maybe i'll see the true shades of blue and yellow and pink.

no more hurting myself, no more.

thank you, by the way, for waking me up with the kiss.

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ererokii · 4 years

Note

Sooo... This request thing. You're aweosme 👉👈

Ooh boy it's a long one (changed it a bit)

-Erens so cute when he purrs and when you mention his curiosity and twitching ears ears and gentle touch, so as not to hurt the reader.

-when he kinda is paying attention to, analysing the reader or protecting them its SO cute

-It would maybe end as like cuddles and things and just... Talking. To him and him grunting or just nodding or thinking replies.

-Maybe be at night.

-Maybe it would start with... Eren In human form.

-Maybe he figures out that you don't think his titan form is so ugly but still a little new and scary and that maybe you like it

- Bam if you can somehow NSFW that... Uhmm?

So he... Turns into a titan and then. Some NSFW or just. Maybe he like. Scares or teases the reader on purpose for a reaction?

-And then NSFW somehow if you wanna put that in. Sorry for the way I type I'm kinda doing it as it all appears in my head lol

-I like your cute, and desperate eren, but also attentive and caring. I haven't seen you write a very cheeky or playful titan eren so maybe that would be nice.

I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE. Here you monsterfuckers, take your TITAN SMUT.

WARNINGS: MONSTERFUCKING. Oral (f receiving), mention of voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, edging, characters are 18+.

If these themes make you uncomfortable or you rather avoid, please block the tag “AOT SMUT” WC: 1.7K

Also thank you to the amazing @galair for this beautiful art🥺 everyone go check her out

Eren stays deep within his thoughts as he hums to himself, staring up at the starry sky. His loose strands tickle the shell of his ear, itching to scratch away at it but refuses. He can’t recall the conversation before the silence. It’s always been on his mind, but he’s been inquisitive as to what you saw him as, even if he knew the answer.

Am I a monster to you? Or am I just like you?

You knew Eren was quite insecure with himself when it came to his titan powers; no matter how many times he asked you that, you always gave him the same answer.

You were never a monster; you’re just a broken human like me.

For some reason, that has never failed to put a smile on his face. Being able to categorize himself with humans made him feel complete, separate from the monster people used to call him when he discovered the powers.

But know that he’s aware (once again) of how you feel, does he scare you?

Maybe he could ask you--, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood at all. Now that he thinks of it, he can’t recollect a moment where you’ve seemed scared to be in his presence, unlike other comrades who look like they’ll leak themselves any moment.

Without even thinking, he blurts out the question. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes the words slipped past his lips.

“Am I scared of your titan form?” you ask, glancing over at him as you sit up, staring down at him from your position. “I mean, it is always somewhat overwhelming to see something so much bigger than me, and when I sit in your hands but no, besides that, I'm not.”

“Do you think it’s ugly?”

“I don’t,” you say with a smile, legs crisscrossed. “I think it’s unique. You know, just for you. I think it’s quite cute and--” you trail off, glancing over to the side. “--somewhat hot,” you cough in between words, hoping he missed that.

“Hot?” he asks, a hint of smugness evident in his tone.” You think it’s hot?” he leans up on his elbows, a smirk curled at his lips. “Why is that?”

“W-Well, I’m not going to tell you that! That’s too personal.”

“What if I turned right now?”

“Y-You can’t! Captain Levi and Hanji would come to chew you out if you did!”

“Hanji gave me the go-ahead to transform whenever I wanted to, just not to cause destruction,” he gets up with a grunt, backing up a few feet back. By the time he was in position before you could speak, lightning struck the earth, the ground crumbling from the shock.

You dug your fingers into the ground, lowering your head from the gusts of wind. In no time, it calmed down as you avert your gaze upward, emeralds stare down at you from high above, brown tresses swooshing in the air.

“You did,” you breathed out, releasing your grip on the dirt. Your hands are unsteady, still trying to compose yourself from the sudden change.

He’s not moving, standing as still as a statue before he drops to his knees, the birds sound asleep in the trees now awake and flying away from the commotion. Your heart feels as if it could burst from the confinements of your chest.

Your left eye peeks open, cowering within yourself. Your body freezes when you see how close he is. His body is lowered to the ground; knees pushed in like a Sphinx. His eyes glow in the darkness, a new feeling taking over your body.

His heavy breathing fans over your face, his head cocked to the side as if he was examining your small figure. He finds humor in your expression, nudging your body with his nose.

From the small force added, it caused your body to get pushed back. His ears twitch, the tips sticking upward. He moves forward, doing it once more.

“Eren, quit it,” you huff, sticking your arms out to keep him from doing it again-- which he’ll end up doing too. There’s no doubt that in that nape, he’s having the time of his life.

He wonders what else he can do like this. He thinks for a minute, noises emitting from his throat. He sticks one of his hands out, shakily raising a finger, and places his hands in between your legs.

He catches your gaze, his tongue peeking as he leans forward, barely pressing the tip against the bare skin of your neck. The new sensation causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, eyeing the pink flesh before gulping lowly.

Eren pulls away, looking at your skirt that happened to ride up your legs. His eyes seem to darken as his mouth closes, teeth grinding against each other.

“Eren?” you question him as he inches closer, his head lowering slightly to the ground. You’re about to call for him again, but his tongue makes an appearance also, pushing the material up more. Your eyes enlarge, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt-- to which looks like fear in his eyes.

A noise of somewhat sadness comes from him, his ears lowering.

“N-No, it’s okay, Eren,” you stutter, face heating up from his motions. If you were honest, you could feel a small wetness pool in between your legs.

Before you know it, the tip of his tongue is in between your legs, the muscle lapping over your clothed cunt. Your arms are shaky as you let out a little gasp that sounds so cute to his ears; he can’t help but circle it around your clit.

A predatory look is in his eyes, looking down like you were his meal. The muscle goes sound, poking at your slicked entrance. Panting, you glance down at the position and pull your panties aside, shivering from the chilly wind and hot breathing in between your legs.

His jaw slacked; he works wonders on your needy cunt. The texture and saliva are enough to make you sensitive on the spot. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, his tongue licking stripes up and down your folds, squelching noises occurring from his rapid movement.

Your legs are shaking from the overwhelming sensation. God, it’s becoming too much, but you can’t stop him, nor if you wanted to. You felt as if you would fall to the depths of the earth but yet stayed in reality.

The tip flicks at your folds, an incoherent noise getting stuck in the back of your throat when he begins to move it side to side rather than up and down.

You’re so needy for him at this point. You want him to stuff your tight cunt with his cock, to feel him stretch you out as he fucks you to no end. Having him do this to you was on another level of ecstasy, but you would accept it if this came up again.

The pressure he puts on your fragile body is enough to send you backward, but the way your heels dig into the ground and his gentle touches prevent that from happening. The slick left in between your thighs trickle down to your ass; the feeling becomes uncomfortable but erotic.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, head falling back, staring up at the sky with lidded eyes. “Fuu..p-please don’t stop,” you slur, thoughts clouding with nothing but immense pleasure.

God, what if someone caught you? The adrenaline running through your body wouldn’t even let you care about that. But the thought of someone hearing you moan out pathetically as Eren licks away at your cunt, have you moaning out.

You wouldn’t be surprised if someone overheard. Eren’s tongue was a gift that meant to be cherished, even if that meant having him do this every day for you to get used to the sticky yet warmth radiating from the muscle.

The inside of your legs trembles, your head spinning in circles, rubbing small lazy circles on your puffy clit, desperate to be touched by his tongue. Your hole was being circled, his tongue barely pressing before retracting; the little shit was teasing you.

One of his fingers gently places over your leg to keep you from moving so much. His finger alone is enough to make you feel weighed down.

Your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out; no noise, no words. You’re completely out of it. Your fingers are clenching and unclenching around nothing, barely holding onto whatever it was you were. If someone were to ask you what day it was, you wouldn’t be able to tell the time of day or where you were at.

“ ‘M gonna cum,” your voice comes out soft yet needy, shifting your hips side to side, bucking your hips to the best of your ability. “I wanna cum on your tongue.”

His eyes flicker, a stripe licked up between your folds before resting on your clit-- a place that desperately needs attention.

Your delicate body is on the brink of defeat; an orgasm after orgasm washes over your body, and he shows no signs of stopping. You’re practically gushing at this point, your juices running down his jaw. You’ve made many feeble attempts to push him away; a growl would emit from him when you tried to do so.

Sweat trickles down your face into your clothes, causing the front of your shirt to stick onto your skin—short breaths of air, hiccups erupting from your throat. Your eyes roll back as your body finally gives out, falling backward onto his hand that was keeping you upright.

As you fall, a purring sound reaches your ears as his tongue finally retracts from your mess cunt, his eyes glancing at your slick sticking to you. His finger rubs the inside of your thigh, gently wiping away the transparent substance. His ears flicker as he listens to your heavy breathing, trying your best to catch the air that was taken away from you.

He lovingly nuzzles his nose against your patella, his dark tresses tickling your supple skin. After being pushed through multiple orgasms, you weren’t even sure if you could walk or get up from this position.

But he finally got his answer as to why you thought he was hot.

Taglist: @trafalgar-temptress @galair @shisoaya @eremiie @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanibear @blueelionn @grabakitcata @erenstellar @onyxoverride @vinishsama @cellarhapsodos @connieswifey @murmikaa (please message me to be added!!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader smut #Eren Jaeger x reader smut #tw: monster fucking #Titan Eren #Titan Eren smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on Titan x reader #shingeki no Kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren imagines #eren Jaeger imagines #aot smut

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goldenharystyles · 3 years

Text

Punishment part-2

warnings; - dom harry, wax play, electro-shock play, dirty talk, ropes, toys, bad words, edging, bondage, whipping. 18+ .........9 years age gap (Yana is 9 years younger) send me requests and concepts please hope you enjoy 😊.

Harry’s pov;-

Yana and I had our dinner and right now we are watching an episode of friends. I’m letting her rest a bit so she can take so much more. She is in my lap, half, she is on my side, head on my chest hand wrapped around my waist, and legs upon mine. She does this when she is tired or when she knows I’m tired or mat at her.

''Harry'' she said' 'hmm'' I mumberld

‘’Are you mad or upset with me?'' She asked picking her head from my chest to look at me. the sadness in her voice

‘’A little yeh’, but more like disappointed’’I said without looking at her. I can see from the corner of my eyes she was holding back tears. Yana is a very sensitive person, she devotes herself to me, she believes in me so much even I don’t believe in myself that much. I don’t think someone has ever loved me as much as she loves me. She’ll be all upset when I’m upset or even when she is sad and I’m happy she’ll be all happy. In this generation where I thought I’ll never really find anyone yana came into my life and filled me with love, so much love. She is always, always there for me. There is no single movement where I needed a shoulder to cry or celebrate something or needed a solution to some situation and yana wasn’t there. She is an old soul just like me, only wants to love nothing else in return. I hope she knows I love her more than anything in this world and I heartily appreciate everything she does for me.

She knows I like control in bed and she trusts me with her soul with that.

‘’I’m really sorry harry’’she said with a trembling voice.

‘’It’s fine’’I was a little disappointed but it’s not like it was so much of a deal. We both know I was just enjoying and I know she was sorry as soon as I asked about breaking my rule. I could see it in her eyes, they were teary but she didn’t cry.

‘’ I know it’s not fine. and that you’re unhappy too. I should have waited for you’’she was looking at me

‘’You’re taking the punishment for it, aren’t you? So it’s ok.’’I said truthfully

‘’I know I’m. But- I- I- Am just sorry’’she dropped her head a little. she never makes eye contact with me especially when I’m angry she gets scared it’s not that I scare her trust me it’s just she finds it hard.

‘’It’s ok love.’’I look at her I know if I don’t take her in my arms now she’ll start crying so I took her I’m my arms and kissed her all over her face.

‘’I love you harry’’she hugged me.

‘’ I love you more my love and I’m not upset with ya’. Alright? Don’t feel bad about it. Think about how you took your punishment. My strong girl. I’m so proud of ya’’I said and hugged her tight. We sat like that for another 10 minutes

10 min later;-

‘’ I’m ready’’she said suddenly

‘’Um- what’’I asked confusingly

‘’ I- um ready for whatever you have in mind’’her voice slow like perfect submissive, but I don’t want her to feel like submissive I just want control I don’t like when she looks down or speaks slowly. I want my girl to enjoy instead of taking what I am giving

‘’ Bub why are you talking to me in a slow voice and why is your head down instead of up, you’re very confident, than the way this?I asked rubbing her back for her comfort.

‘’ It’s just i.. I feel guilty. Like I’ve been caught, which I have but I’m like…guilty.’’She said looking up at me then immediately she looked down in her lap. I swear I saw her teary eyes and it breaks my heart.

‘’No need to feel bad love. And no need to cry too. You said you’re ready yeh’?She nodded

‘’then go to the red room and wait for me’’I said giving her a big smileShe didn’t smile back‘’bub if you’re gonna be like that then we are not doing anything,’’I added

‘’ No no no I’m-… I wanna go and see what have in store for me, let’s see what Mr. styles have got’’ she smiled and winked

‘Ahh- really huh call me Mr.styles one more time I dare you baby girl’’I grabbed her taking both of her wrists in one hand and tickling her

‘’ ahhh harry no, stop..stop’'

‘’Nah- uh uh I’m not stopping and I was thinking too that what should I add to your punishment’’I started ticking her harder

‘’ Ohh sorry I’m gonna pee harry stop. fuck’’she laughed

‘’ Whoah shameless child, you’ve got dirty mouth love’’I gasped dramatically

‘’ You’re acting like a child and you’ve got a filthier mouth, baby boy. And please stop I’m really gonna pee’’she pleaded to laugh

‘’We are not even started and you are begging to stop what a shame’’I teased she narrowed her eyes and laughed. There she is back to herself finally laughing I love her like this.

‘’We’ll see about that’’she winked knowing she’ll lose as always

‘’ Challenging me, my love?’’I raised my eyebrow. She nodded

‘’we’ll see when you’re begging me to stop and when you beg I’ll do it more so next time when you challenge me you’ll think ’’she stared at me. She clenched her thighs‘’ already wet love?’’ I asked

‘’No’’ she said quickly

‘’Don’t lie bub I saw you clenching your thighs’’

I stared at her she shook her head‘’so if I undress you right now you won’t be wet? I questioned She shook her head again

‘’Ohh if I undress you And I don’t see you wet you’re forgiven but if I checked and you’re wet you’re in for a terrible one. (Punishment) so again are you wet angel?’’

‘’Yes, daddy’’she said I smiled

‘’Does my filthy mouth gets you wet? Without me even touching you? How pathetic.’’I stated

‘’Yes, pathetic for you daddy no one else’’ she said shyly

‘’Yeah that’s my girl, you look so good when you smile Now, let's see how you look when you cry.’’ ‘’now go wait for me in the red room. Strip and do whatever I’ll be right there in 5 mins max’’ i said she nodded and went upstairs.

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

As I entered the room I was shocked she was wearing a sexy linger and was on her knees, Hands-on her lap and face down but not too much jus straight but down type god I love this girl so much. I smiled at her she was being good for me.

‘’Bub look at me’’I said she looked at me not sad or like submissive just yana my yana. The excitement in her eyes‘’ you look lovely in that bub and on you’re knees too’I winked at her with a smile.

‘’Wore just for you sir’’she smiled

‘’ Yea?’’She nodded

‘’Now pup get up and get there on the X’’I gestured (X means X shaped pillars, the one like 50 shades of freed had I the movie ig but this were thinner than that)

‘’Okay sir’’she said and went there I went to get some ropes. I know I can easily chain her and I don’t need ropes but I want her to remember this so I’m not gonna go easy. I lit some candles at the time and put them aside I took ropes and went to her

‘’Strip’’I said she obeyed.

''I want you to feel the rope burn your skin as it tightens around your fragile body. Let me hear your little whimpers, as you squirm needily. Beg me to fuck you, tell how much you want, no, NEED me.’'

Yana was so sensitive to my touch that, even if I touch her neck or kiss it she’ll be dripping. I tied her up with ropes hands on top of X and legs open too. Everything is tied and fully exposed for me to use however I want. And she can’t even move more than 2 inches.

''Such a dumb slutty rope bunny, turned on over just a few ropes binding you. Don't get me started on that preciously weak facial expression of yours. So cute and stupid, you just want to be used as a toy. Be good’’I ordered.I went behind her She was all naked for me. I ran my hands through her sides to her arms to her neck again to her sides to her thighs she was whining but couldn’t move too much.

‘’You like being tied up bunny? you like when daddy takes control over your body. Do you Like when you are all helpless to daddy? Like being used huh?’’I asked not expecting an answer I know my words get her wet so I ran my hand over her slit

‘’you’re dripping angle. I’ve not even touched you yet and look at you..dripping for me’’she moaned loudly I started kissing her neck. I held her throat with one finger making her look up and the other just resting around her neck. I started kissing her hard leaving hickeys all over the neck. And started rubbing her cilt slowly too She moaned

‘’feels so good sir’’

'’Yeah? There might be so much in your stomach because I didn’t let you cum right?’’I asked voice dominating

‘’Yes sir there is a lot in there’’she said weakly as I drawing a fast circle on her clit and pushed her lower stomach in

‘’ So small touch of mine and you’ll cum?''I asked

‘’Yes sir I’ll make a good mess for you please let me cum I’m so close please please let me’’she pleaded

‘’You’re gonna cum baby girl? Go ahead come’’I fasten my speed

‘’ Oh god yes yes I’m cumming sir’’she said and I pulled my hands off of her clit leaving her unsatisfied. she was a whimpering mess.

"The more you squirm, the more I will ruin your orgasm,”I threatened I held her breasts in my hand both of them they re exactly my hand size. I massaged them a little and went to stand in front of her. Her head was reacting on her shoulder. I attached my mouth to her left nipple sucking it and massaging it with my mouth. She moaned and tried to close her leg. Poor puppy. I smirk on her boob kissed all of her chest parts and backed off. Looking at her she is so helpless. I took oil in my hands and massaged her boob, her chest, her hands, her neck, her stomach, her legs, and her pussy in short whole body. She was shining from all the oil

‘’ pup don’t squirm much it will get you in trouble’’I warned she nodded and stayed still.

‘’Now, you’ll do as I say right?’She nodded

‘’ I’m gonna untied you one hand and you’ll do as I say’’I untied her right hand

‘’Draw slow circles to you clit baby and don’t stop, if you stop without me telling you. I’ll give you 3 ruined orgasms do you understand? You stop 1 time to feel relief and I give you 3 bad ruined orgasm. Whatever you want’’I said.

‘’ I understand sir’’she said I nodded. I came up with you wax candles in my hand she was shocked ‘’rub you clit bubs’’ I ordered. She started rubbing her over-sensitive clit. I dropped wax on her chest and held it there just moving slightly to cover up her boobs with wax. She hissed at burning

‘’Does it burn pretty girl?’’I asked dropping it on her nipple

‘’Yes sir too much’’she hissed hand still rubbing clit my both candles were nearly over

‘’good. Move your hands' fast dove’’I said looking at her hand. She did it faster

‘’Sir I’m close please please sir please let me cum’’she begged I smiled

‘’Go faster baby and stop pleading it’s not getting you anywhere, go faster’’ I ordered

‘’Ahhh ah-uh sir…’’she cried

‘’I said more faster can’t you listen to me’’I said voice up. She was going faster and faster I know when she is right on her edge and that she was planning on cumming too.

"It feels so good, though, doesn't it?" I smirk as she nodded she was right on the edge...‘’Stop’’ I said and she didn’t, she wanted to cum ‘’ I SAID STOP SLUT’’ I took her hand and tied it again. ‘’SLUT’’ I said shaking my head.

I took all of the candles wax and threw it all over her body except her cunt.

‘’Ahhhhhhhh sir burns’’she screamed I chuckled

‘’Yes baby scream this is just starting so think how much you’re gonna scream’’I smiled and she looked at me with pleading eyes. I took some more candles and again covered every single part of her body. She whined but couldn’t do anything except taking it. I smiled at her helplessness. Then I took one which was in glass (candle) and lit it up and let it be for some seconds till it’s was is melted a bit. I looked at her and grin her face drooped haha! I brought a candle near her wide open pussy she hissed at the feeling. I moved it around a bit and stooped on her clit a little further didn’t wanna actually burn her.

‘’There was so much ice in your underwear an hour ago right? She nodded ‘’so here’s a candle heat it up baby’’I smiled and drag the candle closer to her clit

‘’Shit sir burns please can’t whole body is on fire from wax sir please’’she pleaded I chuckled and threw all melted part on her pussy

‘’Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck shit it’s too much sir it burns uhhh’’she tugged to her restrains to feels some relief but bad luck?

‘’I know baby girl I know’’I kissed her teary cheeks I again took one candle and lit it and threw all the was on her body parts as well as her ass

‘’Sirrrrrr’’she cried

‘’Don’t scream I’m right here not in another room plus I don't think I'll be done with you anytime soon so don’t show me your puppy eyes’’I said

‘’Sir it burns so much it’ll leave marks sir please’’she pouted

‘’I rubbed oil before it won’t leave a mark but it sure will burn like hell when I do next thing which I’m gonna do after not right now. Right now I’m gonna clan your body, but not with my hands of course,’’her eyes widened and I grin at her ‘

’I’ll use some toys for that’’I went to get our thick 20-inch leather flogger I smiled at it.

‘’ I want no voices coming from you do you understand?’’I asked

‘’Yes sir’’she obeyed I took it into my hand and looked at her and hit it on her body with a smile. She screamed without voice. My poor baby. I did it again and again and again till there was almost no wax on her body her body was all red. No marks on her body just red

‘’Sir please’’she pleaded with teary eyes

''"excuse me? didn't tell you can speak. I’ve to gag you now. wait'’ i said and came with a gag and gagged her with a silicone ball gag ‘

’ now you look perfect. SLUT’’I chuckled

‘’There is still some wax on your body I think I’ve to clean’’I smiled and took a step back and hit her with flogger all over her body. She was screaming in gad which made me chuckle

‘’Sul plluz’’she pleaded again something she is doing all night. I was finished with flogging so I thought I’d take off her gag and I did

‘’Good girl’’I praised

‘’ standstill I’m gonna blindfold you. Hard time starts now’’I repeated the thing I said when I showed ice in her underwear

‘’But- sir’’I cut her off

‘’ No buts just shut and take it. You can scream or whatever all you want but don’t talk to me’’I wared

‘’Ok sir’’

I put a blindfold on her I went to the kitchen and took the thing I planed when I last came here. She’ll give-up I guess. I took wet napkins and ducked them into lemon water and put all of them around her body (not pussy) She screamed on top of her lunges

‘’fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck noooooooooo shit I can’t godddd please please I can’t’’

‘’There is my pathetic whore’’I rubbed the wet napkins I put around her body

‘’Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god god god god pleaseeeee’’she whimpered For pussy I took' The faux leather spanking paddle’ and sat down on a stool in front of her

‘’didn’t wanna burn your pussy tho so……’’ Ismiled when she shook her head I was gaining to hir heer pussy but it was a bit uncomfortable.I untied her ‘’ go get on bed’’ I ordered the obeyed ''spread your hands and legs wide open’’ I said I tied her ankles to upper Sid of the bedpost (headboard) and hands to her ankles I even tied her thighs so she remains fully open I again took leather spanking paddle

‘’you’re gonna count with me 10 but if one is wrong or you miss count we’ll start again’’I said and didn’t give her a chance to say anything, and hit the paddle to her wide open pussy

‘’Fuck ahhhh hurts 1 one sir’’she screamed a little Again it hit

‘’two’’ ‘’three’’ ‘’four’’ ‘’five’’ ‘’six’’ ‘’seven’’

''Does it hurt puppy’’I asked as I was tapping on her clit

‘’ Yes sir it’s too much hurts’’

‘’Good as it should’’

I again hit with full force her pussy was so red

‘’Ahhhhhhhhh eight’’,

‘’nine’’ ‘’ten’’

‘’How are ya feeling baby, are you okay?’’I asked her she was still in a recovery zone

‘’Yes sir I’m okay’’she gave me a small smile

‘’Think you can take more?’’I asked coming hands on her body

‘’Not right now but after 15-20 mins yeas I guess’’ she said

‘’ That’s ok pup do you need something? Wanna drink water? Or eat something?''I asked wiping her tears

‘’Need some water my throat is dry’’she said and laughed a little

‘’ I bet it is. god, you scream so loud’’I dramatically put my finger in my ear and shook it.

‘’Haha not funny, shouldn’t have gone that hard the I wouldn’t have screamed’’she laughed

‘’I'm no mediocre baby’’ I smiled and kissed her

‘’now ya rest in that position cause I’m not gonna untie you. I’ve still got 1 chapter left’’

‘’Uhhhhh harry’’she good I slapped her ass hard

‘’owww’'

‘’It’s daddy to you’’I glared

‘’Oooo Mr. styles got angry’’

she teased I slapped her again on her ass and then her already beaten pussy ‘ahhhhhh fuck’’

‘’Behave and shut up I’ll give you water drink and rest for 10 mins’’I said and gave her boatel with straw in it. After 15mins;-

‘’Arey ya ok bubs still tired?’’I asked her she shook her head

‘’Nah just burns a little’’she said I nodded

‘’Ok so this is the last one and uh- we’ve never tried this one but I saw it’s safe and I’m gonna do to you it’s electroshock’’I said

‘’What I- uh- i.. dunno’’she said

‘’Oh I know everything and I know you too so don’t worry enjoy’’

I kissed her forehead she nodded

I took 4 clips and joined them with wires. I went to her and put 2 clips on her each nipple and the 2 on her pussy lips

‘’I’m gonna start the power clench your fist if it’s too much don’t scream’’ I told her

‘’I’ll try my best sir’she added I started the machine she jolts from the first shock but I didn’t stop and continued on medium setting I took the vibrator with we used before

‘’Meet your friend from earlier bunny’’I smiled when she shook her head

‘’No more edeging please’’she said

''My favorite pass time is listening to your sweet moans, and watching you squirm as I hold your favorite vibrator against your cute pussy. And I’m free till this shock shocks you up.’’I laughed and changed the setting to a little bit up of electro

‘’I’ll hold this vibrator to your clit. I'll use you. But you won't get to cum do you understand?’’I raised eyebrow

‘’Yes sir, I do’’I changed electro to highest and she screamed

‘’ Don’t scream hold it in’’I shouted over her screams

‘’Sir I can’t shit’’she can feel shock all over her body I took one clip go her pussy lip and clipped it to her clit and started again. Having shock direct on her clit she jolted

‘’’Ahhhhhhhhhhh siirrrrr mmhhhhh’’she screams but then held them in I started the vibrator on mid-speed and hold it against her clit. After 1 min max

‘’P-please sir, I can’t take it anymore. Stop it, I wanna c—‘’I smirked and increases the speed she moaned

"you fucking whore, you need to learn to control yourself.”I glared at her and put vibe on the highest"another word and you won't be begging to cum, you'll be begging me to stop."

‘’ Sir please I wanna cum please, I’ve held a lot please’’she cried

‘’ok baby girl let go’’ I rubbed her pussy with a vibrator as well.

‘’Really’’she asked I nodded with a smile ‘’thank you so much goddddd’’ I didn’t say anything

‘’I’m cumming’’and she came.

''You came? But don't expect me to stop. I'll vibe you till your cheeks get covered with tears, lips bleed and swell, wrists get red from being tied up, eyes roll back in your head and breathing gets uncontrollable. I want you wrecked from top to the bottom’’I said and started moving the vibrator fast on her clit. After some seconds

‘’Sir I’m cumming please let me’’she asked

‘’Who stopped you cum and then cum again cum cum cum cum keep cumming.’’ I said

‘’ I can’t take anymore’’

‘’ Of course, you can you don’t have a choice’ I laughed

‘’Sir--‘’ Iput my hand on her mouth and stopped her begs then she came again and again and again and again and again and again and again idk at least around 7-8 times,

I switched off everything

I started to untie her

‘’love are you ok?’’I asked and kissed her writs

‘’Yeah i’s sir’’she teased

‘’Hey I’m Harry or baby or baby boy to you’’I said kissing her lips

‘’Yeh baby boy I’m good just can’t feel anything that’s all’’she replied

‘’Are ya hurt somewhere? Did I hurt you or went too hard’’I got worried because she did cum many times

‘’Nah, it’s fine I’m good you just have to take me everywhere that’s all’’she laughed

‘’Fucked the shit out of ya didn’t I?’’I smirk

‘’Yeah yeah’'

‘’Hey don’t talk to me like that do wanna do that all again?’’I raised an eyebrow

‘’Nahh nahh god no’’she said and I smiled.

‘’Good hope you learned your lesson, ok now I’m gonna run a bath and put some candles just thy way you like''said she nodded very tiredly

‘’Ok H’’I got off of the bed and filled the bathtub lit candles.

‘’Let’s go bub I’ll pick you up common now get up’’I said touching her shoulder so she could give me some space to carry her

‘’Hmmshe replied I took her to bath and set her down climbing back of her I took her In my lap in the bathtub and bathed her and relaxed. I brought her back to the bedroom with a towel around her and got her a fresh pair of my t-shirt and her panties and dressed her.

‘’Come love let's cuddle and sleep’ she came to me and wrapped her arms around my waist and I took her head and placed it on my chest. She was all over me.

‘’You took all of that so bravely love gonna be honest didn’t think you’ll be able to take that much I’m so proud of ya’’she didn’t speak but kissed my chest.

‘’What did we learn today pretty girl?’’I asked

‘’Not to touch daddy’s pussy without his permission’’she said voice low I smiled

‘’Good bub. I love you so so much I’m sorry if it was too much’’I rubbed her back

‘’Nahh, I’m good. I love you more and you know it’’she said. And I know she’ll love me more than anything.

‘’Good night love’’she didn’t reply was asleep when I look. My baby.

thanks for reading. sorry for mistakes 😅 please reblog if you liked😊

403 notes · View notes

skiyoosmi · 3 years

Text

to the stars above | z.

featuring. zhongli (genshin impact)

genre. fluff, angst, smut, ancient-liyue!au

word count. 5.4k

marga's notes. aAAAa look look, it's my first commission!! school has kept me really occupied for like the past month but after pulling a few all-nighters, i've finally finished my responsibilities along with this little baby! once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to my bubs @ramannnn for trusting me with this one <33

Nobody knows when the world began, how it came to be and why it continues to be. Even I, whose mind is filled with nothing but wonder for it, have no idea. One thing I am quite sure of... is how mine did.

It all started with him— a man of many titles, different identities yet at the end of the day, all these monikers are the same; it's all him. He adored Liyue more than anything else, knew it like the back of his hand. He went where the winds lead him, stayed where the moon shines upon him, stood where the golden sun kissed his skin. He found serenity in the walks he travels as he goes about his day, the sceneries his eyes take in and the calm sounds the nature resonates for him. And as if it was fate decided upon by the Celestia, it led him to me. Suddenly, my little world that used to be nothing became everything... quickly and all at once.

An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips, frustration and disappointment filling my whole being as I stare at the blank parchment paper I held in my hands. Another day was again wasted with no progress, I thought, mentally beating myself up for not being productive enough. Before I could further drown myself into such pessimistic ideas, I snap out of it and let my eyes cherish the view that lies ahead of me. Though I feel a little guilty for taking Vermeer's place, I can only whisper an apology with little to no sincerity. Because truly, nothing can beat the picturesque landscape of Luhua Pool— the crystal clear waters that would most probably reflect my face like a mirror if I were to ever look at it, the ruins that ignited the spark of curiosity within me, wondering about the pasts it holds and the stillness and feeling of peace it gives me as I sit in this cliff. Feeling somewhat a bit better, I place my things on top of the old bag I bring no matter where I go. There's always a better day for writing, I tell myself as a form of consolation, bringing my slim arms up to begin stretching. I've been sitting on this log for quite a long time now, after all.

"It seems like you are in a bit of a dilemma," a deep voice comments from behind me. Out of surprise, I lightly jump and turn my head towards the stranger. Right at that moment, it felt as if all the air circulating inside my body had been depleted. Captivating was an understatement as to how he appeared before me. With the sunlight striking his face and accenting his unique features further, he stood with his hands behind him, head tilted as he looked at me with interest, all while keeping his dignified posture.

"Oh, hello. I am afraid so, yes," I respond, or rather, mutter under my breath since I was not really used to having sudden encounters with other people, nor am I fond of it. I tend to keep to myself, finding it much more peaceful than having to tend to others' overbearing expectations and demands which is partly the reason why I chose to live in the outskirts, far from the center of Liyue that contrasts my comfortable abode, "I apologize. I failed to realize that somebody other than Vermeer liked to stay here," I told him, arching my eyebrows a little when he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Oh, you have no need for such formal apologies. I do not always go here, at least probably not as often as the man you call Vermeer. I was simply taking a walk and I think I got carried away by Liyue's view and eventually, my feet led me here," he explains, a hint of sheepishness present in his tone, "and I guess I'll have to thank my feet for that."

Because it led me to you, interesting one. For many years, it will remain unspoken, kept by the strange man to himself and unveiled once his heart gives up from the resistance he upholds.

For the following hours of lounging around Luhua Pool, I learned a lot about the stranger— he calls himself "Morax," and like the god of Liyue, he enjoyed history and is extremely knowledgeable about it, aspiring to know and understand everything of the world, he often brews tea, even going as far as inviting me once I am free from any form of work. Just as he shared facts about himself, I did too.

"So, Cheng, you said you have a bit of a dilemma?" he inquires, slightly angling his head towards the direction of the side I'm sitting on. I nod my head up and down, mouth forming into a small pout of disappointment as I remember that today has not been that progressive.

"Yes. I am trying to write a novel, you see. Something that will leave an impact on this world so that even if I may pass, I will still live on the memories of people," I tell him, an ambitious expression present on my face. He hums, eyes going over the terraces that make up the current view we have and the two huge statues standing by the ruins, "Why so?"

I pause for a moment to think of a reply, "I guess I just do not want to let someone alone in this cold world. Wouldn't that be too cruel and sad, to just leave them with nothing?"

If I'm able to write words that will provide comfort to my readers, then maybe... just maybe the world will be less lonely... even for just a little bit. At least, that's what I thought as silence consumed us, the sun setting as if to remind us that finally, another day is nearing its end. Now, what will tomorrow bring?

"Well then, I do hope I will be able to read at least some of your works at least once," he speaks as he stands up, lightly dusting away his clothes, "It certainly has been a pleasure to be your company, Cheng."

As he walks down the slope of the hill, his somewhat broad back facing me, I call out, "Will you be back?"

He stops and turns, a soft smile is plastered on his face as he responds, "Only time will tell."

But time was no friend of mine. At least that's what I have come to realize as many days passed without him returning to this place. Though maybe it's only because it almost felt as if time slowed down and I was only eager to see him again, something I have scolded myself to— what a fragile heart do I have to already seek a stranger's presence? That is what others call love at first sight, a devilish portion of my mind whispered cheekily within me and I gasped in disbelief, "Absolutely not," I lightly slap both of my cheeks, "I'm just too coped up in my own world. I probably need to go see more people."

That thought remains a simple yearning though because once again, I find myself lounging around the same spot in Luhua, a quiet hope ignited within me, fulfilled when I hear the familiar voice he adorns as he speaks, "You're here."

I release a sound that is between a giggle and a breathy chuckle, "And I see your feet had led you here once more?"

"They were curious, or should I say... I was," he explains as he takes a seat beside me, his posture remaining solid despite the uncomfortable position.

"Of what?" I ask.

"Of you," he simply replies, unaware of the sudden yet unsurprising effect it had on my heart that was already beating rapidly with just his mere presence. I try not to be so showy of it though, too embarrassed to even think of how fast I became fond of him.

But it was no wonder. After all, he himself was an interesting one; from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he's just him... all and every action hold so much dignity that it just leaves me almost breathless and in awe every single time my eyes finds their way to his figure— and to think that this was just our second meeting? My mother would most probably let out the most shameless giggle as I tell her these thoughts, pushing me and teasing me like a normal person in their teens would. I shake my head to get out of these thoughts, listening to Morax as he tells another wonderful tale, almost making me think that he lived it himself with how he knew it, going over even with the smallest details.

"You know, Morax, you have such a good memory to remember all of those things despite simply hearing about it," I suddenly speak up in the midst of the silence that engulfed us while he tries to think of the next story to tell, "I hope I can stay in them too... in your memories, I mean. I know I am far from being the most interesting person but for some reason, I wish for that."

He pauses, eyes trailing slowly towards me, beyond my knowledge, before he lets out a somber smile. You already are, is another one of him that becomes an afterthought.

I heaved out a sigh before shaking my head again, "Ah! Why do I keep having such lonely thoughts? Forget about that. Please do not mind me, alright? I think I really need to stop being stuck in the mountains."

I pick up my small bag and shuffle inside it, letting out a quiet sound of 'aha!' as a sort of celebration when I successfully got a small book out, "Here."

He blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what it was I handed to him so I spoke in delight, "You told me you wanted to read at least one of my works so, here. I am warning you though, it is not like the ones that sell best in the bookstores. It might bore you, or weird you out like what others say."

"What others say?"

"They say it's too unrealistic, too impossible... but I believe otherwise. We live in a world where gods and adepti watch over us. What makes my story impossible then?" I ponder, him still being confused.

"What is it about anyway?" He asks, having no idea of what the context my book had.

"It's about an archon who began living as a simple man in Liyue."

Our meetings became more frequent after that and eventually, we got comfortable with even just the presence of each other, having no need for long talks and such, but just peace. Today, like any other day, Morax was just reading the book I gave him, while I was thinking of what my next story would be about. Occasionally, he looks at me with an odd expression that is almost equivalent to astonishment, as if I have done something so great that it made him look at me that way.

"What made you think of this plot?" he asks all of a sudden, not forgetting to put a piece of paper that served as a bookmark on the page where he stopped just in case he accidentally closed it.

I hum, thinking about my answer to his question, "Hmm. Truth to be told, it was just a mere wonder for me. Archons and the adepti, although not entirely immortal, live so much longer than an average human does, watching over us as we go about our daily lives, waiting for sudden wars to break out and then fight the enemies that attack us. Growing up, those were the things that all the people around me told me. So I began to wonder, do they ever get tired? Is it not too taxing to keep on doing that? What if... they just lived with us, among the crowds? Because I think it is too lonely wherever they are. Would it not be better if they were with us, rather than above us, so they could at least have memories to live by?"

Morax does not give a response, or rather, he finds it difficult to find one. Still, it does not stop the affection that spreads within him. He does not say it out loud, but for someone who prefers to be alone, Cheng was full of empathy. And somehow, that did wonders to Morax's heart.

"Now that I think about it, I kind of actually want to address my books to them now," I hum once more, "It would be like a message for them: Do not be too lonely even if we pass. Because of your help, through these stories, we can show you that we lived a good life."

I huff as soon as I finish my sentence, "Although one of those who read it said that was impossible, because according to them, why would archons give up their power to live a life where there is only simplicity?"

Morax let out a sound that made it look as if he got offended himself, "Archons can do that, can they not?"

"I know! That was what I was saying to them. Anyway, I am not forcing them to like what I wrote. It's just a story, after all. It can do no harm," I shrug, beginning to fix my belongings as the sun began to set, "I should go now, Morax. It is still quite a long walk to my home."

"I want to live a good life too," he suddenly tells me, making me halt and turn to him in confusion, "With you. The good life and memories you shall tell in your stories, can I be part of them too?"

The universe does not stop for anyone, nor does time— science will consistently proclaim this fact matter what timeline we shall live in. No matter how much someone begs to the Celestia to grant their wish of controlling, or stopping time, no one will be able to do such things. But somehow, it seems like when it comes to him, everything is possible as I feel my world stop at his words, just like the way it also began when I met him. And as if planets were colliding with each other, I suddenly felt my heart crash upon him and as if out of instinct, I let go of the truth.

"Of course. It would be the greatest thing to have you."

Life was strange in its own way. That is what I have come to realize in this simple life of mine.

Despite the fact that the "me" of the previous year has never even thought about putting my whole being on my sleeve, it is pleasingly odd how right now, I find myself in this kind of situation with the man who swept me right under my feet and claimed my heart as his.

“You're cold," I whisper amidst the silence of the night in my abode, my index tracing the ears of the man who had me sitting right on his lap, the shorter strands of his silky hair tucked behind them. So, so alluring.

He takes hold of my wrist, planting a soft kiss on its side, all while maintaining eye contact as he quietly drawls, "Then I suppose you can keep me warm tonight. Will you?"

As if in a trance, I nod my head, letting him take the lead as he laid me down, back against the soft mattress, him following on top with his arms supporting his build. With arising confidence, I circle my arms around him and pull him down, bringing our lips together, a sigh of relief escaping both of our mouths as if to say, "Finally."

I wonder if he thinks the same way as I do— that this was Celestia in its own way. I felt like I could do anything as long as it was with him. The kiss felt like the power we once suppressed from each other became a supernova that changed our world's course all of a sudden. But despite the tension and heat we both emitted at the moment, there is a warmth that engulfs me the same time he fully wraps his arms around me.

I am here. I will always be here.

No noise disturbs the peace we have created, only the quiet sound of crickets reach our ears but even that fails to distract him from what he's doing. He gently tugs on the sash that keeps my coat tied. Nimble fingers explore the remains of my clothing, loosening all until I am set free from them.

His eyes raked over my body, an expression of awe plastered on his face for so long that it made me somewhat conscious. Because as he unravels his to me, I am enlightened by the fact that my figure is nothing worth comparing to his — not even close. A hint of sweat glints from his skin due to the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal. But who was I to complain?

So instead, I look down, fiddling a little with my fingers as I feel my cheeks heat up. How is it that I only realize now what kind of situation we are currently in? Before I further drown in such shameless thoughts, he lifts my head up by the chin, an amused look on his usually-gentle face, "Are you feeling shy, beloved?"

I meekly nodded, to which he lets out a soft laugh and whispers, "Don't be. You are the epitome of beauty itself. If you don't believe me, allow me to show you nothing but truth tonight, I swear under the moon and all these stars."

He dips down and captures my lips in a kiss once again with more passion, if it was still even possible.

"You are made for me, as I'm made for you," he proclaims as he thrusts inside me after minutes of preparation, soft pants and groans following his statements. I can only whimper in response, pain evident in my tone at first with my hands lightly clawing at his back. I pray to the heavens above that they don't leave awful marks after this.

He halts and utters an apology, thumb caressing the bone of my cheeks while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face after a few seconds, relief flashing in his eyes when I nod for him to continue.

"I... b..." I try to speak out but the pleasure overwrites any sensical thought that goes through my mind. He slows down a little, looking over my face and smiles, urging me to talk.

"Stay with me, beloved. We still have all night," he tells me, encouraging me to voice what has been on my mind.

"I... I belong to you, always have and always will..." I manage to croak out, voice quite hoarse due to the sounds that I let out previously. Perhaps pleased with what I have proclaimed, he begins going even deeper and at the same moment, I begin falling deeper.

"Yes, yes, you do," he repeats like a mantra, his voice sounding more and more desperate to reach his high. I cry out with him, creating a harmony that even the best bards shall be ashamed.

It was a long night— the longest yet most beautiful night I have ever had in this simple life of mine. And in that moment, as we reach the stars together, I knew right there and then that this man is someone who will be etched in my heart for as long as I live, deep into its roots— for him, it shall beat and it shall love.

You, who are reading this, most probably have had enough of these teeth-rotting praises I kept on writing. But what can I do except to apologize? These words are the only ones that can flow out of my mind and mouth to show how magnificent it was to be loved by him.

Well, nothing significant really changed. He was still the same gentleman I met, if anything, more gentle. Just like in the beginning, he made my heart flutter every chance he gets, no matter how many years have already passed.

We built a dynasty together.

But maybe I should have known that ours were also bound to crumble like the ones that have long existed even way before us.

Days, months and years went on, I realized that he was actually the opposite of me— unlike me who was clearly not parallel with time, he held it right on the palms of his hand. I was not blind, nor was I a fool, I can clearly see how he looks like he has not aged a day, all while I was here, maturing more and more each second that passed by, the amount of signs of me aging increasing significantly.

Morax. Knowledgeable of history as if he lived it himself. Time. All these thoughts eventually congest my mind as realization dawns upon me. He was not merely a man named after the god himself— Morax was him, he was Morax.

"How appalling," I mutter with a hint of sadness and dismay in my tone. I stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering over my face, wrinkles appearing as I scrunch it. A pair of firm arms snake its way around my lean waist, chin resting on one of my shoulders as he hums his words, "What has got your beautiful mind occupied, my beloved?"

Taking hold of his arms, I turn my body around to face him, a somewhat melancholic smile etched on my face as I look up at his much taller frame, "You are a sight to behold, even to this day." He arches one eyebrow out of amusement and curiosity, wondering why I suddenly started pouring him compliments. After all, my shyness prevents me from consistently doing so. Nonetheless, I continue speaking, "I wish... I could be with you even when everything changes into a whole new world."

I lifted a hand up to cup his cheeks and began rubbing it lovingly, a lone tear finally dropping from my eye as soon as I closed it, "but I cannot, I do not have the ability to do so... I am but a mere mortal, after all."

His eyes widen as he finally discerns my actions and concerns, immediately opening his mouth in hopes of consoling me but I beat him into speaking, "It's alright, Morax. I have been putting the pieces together for a while now. I am in no way angry. I just..." I pause, gulping hard before my lips start to quiver, "... I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. And now... I think about it and I... I do not want to leave you alone again."

My cries eventually start becoming louder, something that is very new to the both of us, seeing as I have always been composed. Love can change a person into a whole new being. I remember a book I have read once and at the moment, I can only agree. Maybe it was the way my heart clenches at the mere thought of him walking alone, or the way I can imagine us taking our last breaths together yet I know that will never happen— but either way, it was painful.

He whispers sweet nothings to my ears, placing light kisses on my temple as he leads us to the bedroom to rest once my tears have finally ceased and I have calmed down. His hold on me gets tighter every time I let out a small hiccup due to crying, almost as if he was telling me that he was feeling the same pain as I was.

Hours pass by as we lay in silence. My tears have long dried up but we remain coped up in each other's arms.

"Would it not be interesting if you bear the name Zhongli?" I ask him in a somewhat croaky voice.

He peers down and tilts his head, "Now where did that thought come from?"

I shrug, or at least try to, and look up at the ceiling as we shift our positions to lay on our back, hands finding one another and intertwining, "Hmm... nowhere. Just a name I wanted to give you in case that you are needing a new one."

"Oh? How come it would be interesting then?"

I look at him with a comforting yet sad smile.

"Because it means it's time to leave, to go somewhere far away... and unfortunately, I will have to leave soon."

He furrowed his eyebrows together, "Do not say that. Who knows? Maybe you will be able to live a hundred years by my side. Besides, I think it sounds lonely. I do not think I would want to get reminded of the fact that you are not here with me."

I hum, "But if you bear the name I gave you, wouldn't it feel like I never went away? That no matter where your feet take you, no matter how far you go, I am and will always be with you, just as I have vowed."

The wooden door leading to my writing room slowly slides open and Morax's head peers in, an adorable smile plastered on his face, "You have been quite busy these days, beloved. I do not wish to disturb you but I am starting to long for your presence."

I let out a shameless giggle, "Alright, alright. Just let me write down a few more words while I still have ideas to input."

He peeks on the parchment paper out of curiosity, taken aback when he finds his name on it, "You are writing about us?"

I nod proudly, "My last piece."

"... But why?"

I smile and approach him, taking his hand and placing my forehead against his after he lowers his head down to my level, "I told you, did I not? I do not wish to leave the person I love with nothing. So that you will not be lonely, my words will be with you. I will be with you, always..."

"... and to tell the gods... to tell you, that I loved every second of my life with you— that it was, indeed, a good life."

"Who are you, young man? Are you my son?" I speak with a very hoarse voice, squinting my eyes at the figure in front of me, as if my poor vision will allow me to do that.

I hear a melancholic yet gentle sigh come from him before he takes my rough hands and looks afar, "Don't mind me. I'm just someone who vowed to be with you for as long as time lets us."

"Oh.... really? That’s quite endearing," I hum, "Well, may I know your name?"

"This… I think I may just have an idea to whom this book is for," Paimon trails off, looking over at the traveler who was in the same trance as her, "Paimon thinks we should let the strange person we saw a while ago give this directly to Zhongli!"

Lumine nods, turning around and starting to run towards the direction they were at previously, recalling the person named Cheng who gave them the novel they just finished reading. They were unique, dressed in layers of robes and it was almost as if they lived in the old times of Liyue. Even the way they talked and moved screamed ancient.

Just as they turned the corner, a woman near the Liuli Pavilion called them over, "Traveler! Here!" As they approach, Lumine cranes her neck to look around the area but to no avail, the strange person was long gone.

"Are you two alright?" the woman asks, much to their confusion, "I saw you talking to literal air awhile ago and I was worried you have eaten something strange."

The pair looks at each other in surprise before Paimon replies, "You didn't see anyone? Like a person dressed in the strangest attire? They dressed really anciently!"

The door of the Liuli Pavilion opens and there goes Zhongli, a calm expression morphing to an awkward one when he realizes he barged into an ongoing conversation. He apologizes for the disturbance and despite the curiosity he had upon overhearing bits of Paimon's statements, he starts his walk back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. At least not until he hears Paimon call his name, "Zhongli! Wait! A person named Cheng. Do you know them?"

He abruptly stops and turns to the two, eyes wide for a second before it returns to his usual demeanor, "How... how do you know of them?"

"We met them," Paimon says, as if it was the simplest thing to do, "Well, honestly, we don't know because we were apparently speaking to nothing but air! It's so odd!"

He stays still, honestly having no idea of what response he should give them because he himself found it hard to believe.

"Well anyway, they asked us to give you this nov— wait, where is it? It was just in your hands a while ago, Traveler!"

In the midst of the loud chaos made by the two in the middle of Liyue, he thinks he knows what to do and where to go now.

It was the day of the Rite of Parting, an event where he's supposed to be taking part of, even just a part of the audience. But he finds himself hanging around the Wanwen Bookhouse, eyes scanning the shelves until it stops at a familiar name engraved on the cover of a book.

"Oh! Greetings, Mr. Zhongli! I see you took a liking to a very great and romantic novel," Jifang comments as she sees the book in his hands.

He looks at her, "Is it really great?"

She gasps in delight, "Yes, indeed! Almost all of the Liyue folks have enjoyed this story! You can say it is a classic, especially for readers! Cheng definitely outdid themselves with this one! Such a mysterious person yet equally amazing. Imagine? Being able to make such a beautiful love story with Morax? They don’t mention the present name they gave Morax though, such a shame. Maybe it was due to old age, they wrote it until the last moments of their life after all. Anyway, I have to get back to work but enjoy reading that masterpiece!"

He feels his heart swell in pride upon knowing his lover had his wish come true. His nimble fingers carefully open the pages of the book and hours later, as he sat inside the Funeral Parlor after taking the novel home, he finds himself absorbing each and every word Cheng have written, the loneliness sitting idly inside him subsiding little by little.

I found solace in the countless cups of tea you brew whenever I encounter distress with my works, the endless stories you tell with a smile so beautiful that not even the most heavenly scenery can vanquish, but most of them all, the feeling of your hand intertwining with mine, providing me with serenity no one else has ever done before. Under the moonlit night of Liyue, I remember your wistful amber eyes, staring deep into my soul as you proclaim your love and desire for me. How foolish was it of me to think that I could live this life without even experiencing such warmth and intimacy?

It is a banality, really — how I wish to become a well-known writer with unique tales and yet the story I am telling is something so common to folks that they have most probably heard similar ones before. But I guess this is what it means to love and to be loved. Everything is like a cycle that just keeps on being repeated, yet we never get tired of it, of the feelings it brings. So, thank you, Morax. Words will never be sufficient to show how grateful I am to you for showing me a whole new world but I suppose this is still a way for me to give back to you.

With this little book of mine, I hope my heart reaches yours regardless of how many eras may have passed before and after us. So, my beloved, do not be too lonely without me. Even if you find yourself longing for my presence, just open this and my heart shall be with you.

This belongs to you, it always will.

And I do, as well.

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin x oc #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x oc #zhongli x reader #genshin headcanons #zhongli headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin fic #genshin fluff #genshin smut #zhongli smut #zhongli imagines

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

When He Holds His Child For The First Time ~ SF9 Reaction

Inseong:

Your hand pointed to Inseong as soon as the midwife turned around with your daughter, ready with the important question. “Who’s going to go first?”

Inseong’s mouth opened to speak, but the midwife was already following the direction of your pointed finger. “No, Y/N, it’s only right that you go first.”

“No, it’s not, I want you to be the first one Inseong.”

Shaky arms stretched out as the midwife began to hang your daughter over. “Am I doing it right?” He instantly asked, terrified of messing something up or causing harm.

“Relax,” you giggled, “you’re doing a good job.”

“But she’s so small,” Inseong whispered, trying to keep calm as the midwife moved her arms away. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this feeling, being a father already feels so cool.”

“You’re doing great,” you encouraged as Inseong walked across to you, “that little girl has no idea how lucky she is to have you in her life.”

“She’s very lucky,” Inseong agreed, “but not because she has me, but because she has you, an incredible mother.”

“An incredible mother because I’ve got an incredible partner too.”

Youngbin:

Your smile grew as Youngbin’s eyes looked to you, barely able to believe the little one in front of him. “It certainly looks as if she’s taken a shine to you.”

His head nodded, unable to quite believe what was happening. “I don’t think I want time to end for a long time, can we stay here, right now, forever?”

“The first hold is always going to be the best hold.”

Youngbin nodded once again, smiling down at her barely open eyes. “If I hold onto her forever then it’s always going to be my first hold of her, and always special too.”

“What about me?” You joked, “I want a hold too.”

“You’ve carried her for nine months, it’s my turn now,” he teased, holding her a little bit tighter, “I’ve laid by her side for months, desperate to be able to have a moment like this with her.”

“At least whilst you hold her, she can’t kick you like she did me in here,” you pointed out to him, tapping against your tummy softly.

“You can hold her soon,” Youngbin assured you, “I just don’t think I’m ready to let her go just yet, not for a while.”

“It’s alright, I’m in no rush, take your time with her properly.”

Jaeyoon:

It all felt surreal as your son was placed against Jaeyoon’s chest, curling up straight away against his skin. “See, you look like a complete natural straightaway.”

Jaeyoon wasn’t quite sure what to do as he looked across at you, “I feel like I’m in a bit of a dream right now having our son here after so long of waiting.”

“We’ve definitely waited a while for this moment to arrive.”

His head nodded in agreement, staring back down at your son. “I can’t believe how innocent he is; he has no idea of the amount of love so many already have for him.”

“Are you getting emotional?” You teased, “is the joker crying?”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled back at you, trying to keep himself together. “I wish I had something funny to say right now, but my heart is too full to even try and ruin this moment that we’re in.”

“You’re doing a good job,” you smiled across at him, “make sure that he enjoys the quiet now before he has to live with all of your stupid dad jokes.”

“They’re not stupid,” Jaeyoon tried to argue, “he’s going to have a great sense of humour just like his daddy does.”

“It already sounds like I’m in trouble with you two.”

Dawon:

Helpless eyes looked across at you as soon as you suggested to Sanghyuk holding your daughter. “There’s no need to look so afraid, it’s easy.”

Sangyuk continued to stare back at you, with a soft shake of his head. “She looks comfortable with you right now, let’s give it a little bit more time first.”

“You can’t put off holding your daughter forever you know.”

He sighed softly, looking down at the sleeping baby that you held. “I’m just scared of doing something wrong, what if I drop her or something like that?”

“That won’t happen,” you smiled, “just don’t stress.”

“Easy for you to say,” he responded, already finding himself moving forwards, as did you too. “How am I even supposed to hold my hands, where do you support a baby when holding them?”

“Calm down,” you assured him, resting your daughter into his extended arms, “just keep her nice and secure and you’ll be absolutely fine with her.”

“Secure,” he repeated, moving her tightly into his chest, “am I doing it right? Do I look the same as when you hold her?”

“You’re doing fine, and she’s still asleep, so it’s perfect.”

Zuho:

Your eyes instantly looked to Juho as you heard him whisper your name. “What is it?” You questioned, naturally feeling yourself panic.

His mouth was wide open, eyes staring down at awe. “He just looked at me and smiled, I’m sure that was a smile, do you think he knows who I am?”

“He’s listened to your voice for nine months; I expect he can.”

“Really?” Juho quizzed, not expecting that to be your response. “But I thought that was just an old fable about babies hearing voices in the bump.”

“It’s true,” you laughed, “but you never believed me.”

“I’m beginning to believe it now with these beautiful eyes staring back up at me,” he admitted, unable to look in your direction. “I just want to stay in this moment with him forever.”

“We’ve got years ahead of us for many moments like this,” you assured him, “with you as his dad, he’s always going to stare at you in awe.”

“I never imagined that anyone could steal my heart as quickly as this, he’s just too cute,” Juho then whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as soft as this either.”

Rowoon:

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the difference between Seokwoo and your daughter as he held her into your chest. “You make her look so small.”

His eyes looked down at the sleeping bundle that he held in his arms. “I’m too scared to move in case I do anything, she’s so fragile and small Y/N.”

“You won’t hurt her, you’ve just got to be careful, that’s all.”

“I feel like I’m too tall to hold a baby,” he softly laughed, careful not to disturb her sleep. “I don’t want to be the reason that she wakes up too.”

“It’ll be alright,” you assured him, “if she wakes, she wakes.”

“You make it all sound so easy,” he sighed, looking back across the room to you, “I feel like I’ve just been thrown in at the deep end, suddenly I have so much responsibility for this little one.”

“And I know that you’ll do a great job too,” you encouraged, offering Seokwoo a smile. “It’s natural to feel worried at the very start, I am too.”

“Why?” He questioned, “you seem to have everything so under control, and I’m just one big mess right about now.”

“I’m hiding it well, that’s the difference between us.”

Yoo Taeyang:

As soon as the door had closed, your eyes looked to Taeyang as finally the three of you were left alone. “Do you want to hold him for a bit?”

His eyes widened, looking between you and your son. “But the midwife told you to have him for a while, skin to skin contact is good for you both.”

“He should have contact with you too, not just me Tae.”

You were stubborn, which he knew, not even attempting to argue with you. “If she tells us off for this, then I’m definitely putting all the blame on you.”

“That’s fine,” you smiled, “I take full responsibility.”

“Alright,” Taeyang whispered, taking his shirt off, pulling his chair closer towards you. As you leant forwards and placed your son into his arms, a loud gasp came from Taeyang at his first touch.

“Support his bum,” you instructed, reaching across to help Taeyang place his arms in the right place, “he’s so tiny, especially in your strong arms.”

“I can’t believe he’s so small,” Taeyang whispered, staring down at him, “how do we manage to do this?”

“We’re just such a good team, that’s exactly how.”

Hwiyoung:

As you began to stir from your sleep, your heart couldn’t help but sink as you saw Youngkyun in front of you. “They let you hold her?”

His head nodded with a soft smile, “you looked too peaceful asleep to wake up, do you want to hold her for a bit? I’ve had her in my arms for a little while.”

“I wanted to be able to see you hold her for the first time.”

He was helpless as he stared back at you. “I couldn’t say no to the midwife when she handed her over, it all happened a bit too quickly. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s more important that you hold her anyway,” he spoke up as he began to approach you, “the midwife did say that it wouldn’t be too long before we could try feeding for the first time.”

“That’s so scary,” you sighed, pushing yourself upright so that Youngkyun could place her against your chest. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Do whatever feels right,” he encouraged, “you’ve always had maternal instincts, so this will be easy for you Y/N.”

“I just don’t want to be the one to mess things up.”

Chani:

Your eyes instantly looked to Chanhee as the midwife turned around with your son in her arms. “Who’s going to be the first one to step up?”

Chanhee’s eyes flickered down to you, surprised to see you already staring across at him. “It should be you, you’re the one that just gave birth to him Y/N.”

“No, you hold him first, I know how excited you are.”

His head reluctantly nodded, taking a step towards the midwife, “what am I even supposed to do?” He questioned, beginning to feel himself getting quite frantic.

“Take a breath,” you called out to him, “it’s fine.”

“Deep breath,” he spoke to himself, extending his arms out as your son was placed into them, letting go of a sharp intake of breath. “Gosh, he’s beautiful, Y/N we really do make good babies together.”

“Let me see,” you whispered across to him, shuffling along the bed to make room for them both. “He looks so tiny, and you look so big.”

“He’s so delicate,” Chanhee whispered, “I can’t believe we get to be the ones to see such a tiny little human grow.”

“He’s going to grow up being one very spoilt kid.”

---

Masterlist

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Note

Hey. I don't know if you are still taking prompts... but if so, I may have a challenge for you. 😉

Remus has to stay in the hospital wing for longer than usual. Sirius is secretly dating Remus and can't stand being away even though Madame Pomfrey says no visitors.

Thank you for such a cute prompt. I hope I have written just like you wanted. <333 Happy Reading! Stay Magical!

Rating: Teens and Up Audience.

The night was befalling as the walls of Hospital Wing started darkening, and the torches around the room ignited flames automatically with a thud. The room is filled with utter silence of the unoccupied beds with Remus Lupin being an exception, laying exasperatedly awake with bandages wrapped around his left leg. His stomach growled but it was the least he cared about because of the aching on the tips of his fingers and toes as his chest was in a constant state of agitation. He wanted something. No, he was craving for someone. He couldn’t stop his brain from the race of unwanted thoughts.

What if he doesn’t want me anymore?

What if he has realized that I’m not worth dating?

What if he is better off with my absence?

Suddenly, his thoughts came to a halt when his senses heightened with someone’s fastidious and highly familiar presence. Remus didn’t even have to look to recognize because it was none other than Madam Pomfrey. He loved her but not momentarily—infact not from the past five days who had strictly banned any visitors since his and Sirius’ fight. Speaking of, he shut his eyes as the memory enrolled in his mind all over for the hundredth time.

“I could have killed you!”

“But you almost killed yourself!” Yelled the boy who Remus was in love with.

“That is the last thing to be worrying—“ But he was not finished when the boy lunged at him and yanked him by his fists clutching his hospital dress, bringing him eye to eye and nose to nose as he growled, “Don’t you ever fucking say that. If you don’t care a shit about yourself then at least care about me! Us! But you don’t! You don’t care about us! Fuck you, Lupin!”

Remus’ heart was hammering in his chest, the pain of his broken leg was long forgotten. The tears glistened in the boy’s hard eyes. And before he could lift him his hand to hold his jaw, to soften the clenched face, to wipe his hurt away, Madam Pomfrey burst inside with her raging thunder.

“Mr. Black! Hands off this instant! How dare you bully a patient like that!? And within the Hospital Wing!” And he loosened his grasp which left Remus with an empty feeling in his chest. Even if he was being held brutally, he didn’t care because he was held by the foremost person in his life. The person he would never wish to leave.

“He’s my—“ He tried but his voice was a whimper in comparison to Madam Pomfrey’s.

“A week’s detention Mr. Black for scaring my patient like that! None of your friends will ever visit the Hospital Wing! Now off you go before I take away the house points!”

He gave Remus one last look of misery, tears still swimming in his heaven-made silver eyes, and scurried away from the hospital.

Remus numbly watched Pomfrey re-bandage his wounds. He suddenly felt so despondent and lonely after rethinking everything. He had hurt his favorite person in the world. And all that person had done was the care and love him with his deepest sincerity. He also knew that his lycanthropy had always been on his mind that even led him to convince the rest of his friends to become Animagis just to protect Remus from hurting himself. And now Remus had done the very same thing by not allowing his pack to accompany him to the last full moon. His broken leg and severe wounds were the aftermaths of his isolated transformation

He didn’t want to admit that he regretted his decision because deep down inside he had been unbound from the usual fretfulness of hurting his friends. He’d been better off hurting himself than hurt them, especially Sirius Black.

Now, it had been five days and Remus had not seen him. Neither James nor Peter.

“Ma’am?” He didn’t realize he had called her before she looked at him in question while applying the salve on the half-healed wound. He hissed in pain but asked anyway, “When am I getting discharged from this bed and these walls?” The bitterness cut through his voice sharply which made Pomfrey look up in surprise.

“Well, Remus. I expect to call me Poppy instead of Ma’am after five years I’ve been treating you.” Remus suddenly felt hot with embarrassment, “And it will take few more days until your walk starts, and then you’ll be well enough to join your classes and friends.”

The way she spoke, Remus felt like he had centuries to wait. He flopped down on his bed again with disappointment, the hollowness in his chest created a bigger void. A Sirius Black void. He needed it to be filled by that very person. The longing was more than Remus expected, intense enough to cause burning in his eyes as his throat began to constrict gradually, tightening his chest. He held himself until his throat had turned thorny. He let out a shaky breath and tears spilled down his temple, founding their place in his already messy hair. He cried silently. He ached and ached until sleep drifted him away.

Even in his dreams, he saw dark hair rippling like the black sea, shiny grey eyes like silver orbs, and fair skin like snow accompanied with pink flushes on the dips of the body. And then he saw a hand reaching out to him and just as he tried to grasp it, the hand flew away with a burning brush on his arm. The sensation was warm enough to jerk him from his unconsciousness. Remus’ eyes opened up to the same ceilings of the hospital wings. The room was still inky blue. He saw his dinner tray on the nightstand in which the food had gotten cold and dry. He immediately touched his left arm where the same sensation was tingling his skin. Or maybe he just felt it in reality? But no one was there. Remus was alone and cold.

He tried closing his eyes again, feeling no appetite at all, but he sensed a faint noise of rustle. He ignored it before it came back again with a feeling of fingers brushing his arm again. He sat up abruptly, clutching his sheets to his chest. His eyes were scanning the room desperately when—

“Moony?” Remus screamed when he saw Sirius’ head appear in the mid-air. Sirius rush ahead to put his hand on his mouth, “Shh! Please! I don’t want to get more detentions, Moony!”

It was all too much to process; Sirius appearing like a genie with no body—before he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, and Sirius’ warm and sweaty hand on Remus’ mouth, and most importantly, Sirius was here in front of him after five fucking days. He removed his hand once Remus calmed down.

“Look, Moony, I’m sorry—“ He never got to the end of it because Remus shoved Sirius in his embrace. The embrace that was yearning for Sirius only. He thought he might have thrown away anyone if they had tried hugging him before his boyfriend. Remus squeezed him impossibly closer and tighter. He was clutching him like a lifeline. He had his face nuzzled in Sirius’ chest. His fragile arms were strongly wrapped around Sirius’ torso. He was relishing the scent, the touch, the love, and everything he had missed.

“Fuck, I missed you, Pads.” He grunted in his collarbone, “I was longing for you…”

“I’m here.” Sirius cooed in his ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, “And I’m not going.”

“You’ll have to,” He chuckled, traveling his hands to find Sirius’ and intertwined them both.

“Eventually, yes but don’t ruin the moment, Moony.” Remus was torn between tightening his embrace or pulling away to gaze at Sirius’ face but then he felt the other move away. They parted from their lingering hug, and Sirius delicately held Remus’ face and bent down to kiss him. Remus felt his body was set on fire. They kissed languidly at first until their desires amplified their passion. Sirius dug his knees on the bed while Remus complied by pulling him in his lap. Suddenly, his boyfriend gasped and jerked away.

“Remus! Your leg is broken and—I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just my calf area. I was not hurt okay?” Remus shushed him, peppering kisses on Sirius’ hands. The other boy nodded but frown still sitting on his face. He sat against him on the bed and Remus didn’t leave his hand. He just wanted them to be touching like an assurance of never parting again. They sat in silence. The flaming torches on the walls had already died out.

“Why did it took you so long?” Remus asked sheepishly, running circles on the outside of Sirius’ palm to make him sure that he was not mad.

“It’s not like I didn’t try,” Sirius spoke softly, “Had to sneak out from James’ hell hound eyes. And the last two days were spent in getting caught by Mrs. Norris. That fucking cat.”

“I love cats, okay? Don’t insult them.” Sirius cocked his eyebrow at him, “Yeah but she is such a pain in the arse.” They giggled. Remus couldn’t avert his eyes from Sirius who was avoiding his gaze, “Last two days, huh? It’s actually been five days. Are you mad at me?”

“Moony, how can I be mad at you?” The gentleness in his voice was powerful enough to cause Remus to feel hot behind his cheeks, “But yes, I admit that I was angry. I thought you didn’t want to see me. I thought that you’d want some space. But then I couldn’t stay away from you for so long. Life has been terrible without you.”

“Life has been terrible without you too, Sirius. I missed you so much. I felt bad the second you left this room. I felt so sorry to hurt you like that—“

“Your pain is my pain, Remus,” Sirius said sternly. His eyes are hard as steel. “You can’t isolate yourself like that. I know you fear hurting us but Moony, can’t you see? You are already hurting us like that. James has been quiet lately and Peter…well, he is just following his pursuit. What I mean is, none of us can see you wounded in hospital for like a week because of us. That we weren’t able to protect you.”

“It’s not your responsibility—“

“It is. You are mine.” Sirius squeezed their already entwined hands. The words were like a gush of affection in Remus’ heart. He was suddenly out of arguments. He smiled at the boy before him who smiled back weakly, “And yes, it’s been only two months since we started dating, but you already feel like my responsibility now.”

Remus arched an eyebrow at his flustered expression, “Wow, that’s quite patriarchal with few amendments since a man is claiming his supremacy on the other man.”

“Wha—you dominate over me all the fucking time!” They broke out in fits of laughter but then immediately clapped their hands on each other’s mouths to keep it down. Funnily, the more they forced themselves to be quiet the more laughter bubbled out of them. Remus suddenly grabbed Sirius by his collar and crashed their lips together. Their giggles were turned muffled until they were silently devouring each other’s mouths. Sirius was now moving from his jawline to his neck, and Remus turned into mush as the warmth began pooling into him. He just wanted to stay like this forever.

Suddenly, they both froze when the sounds of approaching footsteps came from the hall. Sirius lunged down to the floor to grab the invisibility cloak, and suddenly the door swung open.

“Mister Lupin?” McGonagall?

“Professor McGonagall.” Remus’ voice shook.

“I am sorry for barging into the Hospital Wing just like that, but I wanted to ask if Mr. Black might have stopped by here?” Even in the dark room, Remus was able to see the grave creases on her forehead. He gulped and eyed down the floor to found Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm…No, Professor.” He stammered.

“Well, that lad is one hurricane, isn’t he?” She sighed, “I hope you are recovering well, Remus.” Her voice softened and a hint of a smile passed her face. He nodded and then she was out of the hospital.

After he had made sure that there were no sounds of any footsteps he said, “What did you do now?”

“I came during my detention with McGonagall.” Sirius peeked through the cloak, with his entire body invisible.

“Okay, you look very creepy like that.” He stood, brushing off the dust from his trousers, “Come here, now. I want to relish you till my heart is contented. You are getting more detentions anyway.” He opened his arms for Sirius who fell into them with the goofiest smile on his face.

“You are such a masochist, Moony.”

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veinsofvenire · 3 years

Text

“I will remain by your side. I will protect you from anything that comes your way... That is what I promised.”

This took much longer than expected, I apologize for the wait. I've been so busy in the past month or so, I don't get to draw much artwork nowadays. Hopefully, I can post regularly again.

By far, this is my favorite drawing I've done in awhile. And as a thank-you to those who stayed with me through my absence, I have written a short story of what happened just a few days prior before this scene started. I wonder what or who he's fighting?

Excuse my writing, I'm not a very good writer.

“I Will Protect You, Understand?”

Featuring—Xiao x gn!Reader

Word count—1,167

Summary—You and your traveling partner, Xiao, have returned to Liyue for a short time before you both board Beidou's ship to go back to Inazuma to finish up what you started. But he has something to tell you first.

A/N—The story can be seen as platonic or romantic. But it was written as more of a friendship between you and the adepti. Also, forgive my mistakes, I have to reiterate that I don't post my stories so I am comfortable with a very messy (and strange) way of writing.

You were savoring the landscape of Liyue before you had to return to Inazuma for your commissions. You took that moment to enjoy the cool breeze brushing against your skin, watching the leaves dance with the wind in the comfortable fall weather. You'd miss the scenery the nation had to offer, shivering at the thought of the cold environment of Inazuma.

Your eyes glanced off to your right, your companion standing close to you. It was Xiao. His arms folded, staring off into the distance, you wondered what was on his mind.

It had been some time since you met the adeptus, quite a few months in fact. You were proud of yourself when you managed to gain his trust, enough for him to agree to follow you around Teyvat. You valued your friendship with him, and though he never showed it, you were sure he enjoyed your company, too.

He had saved you countless times from your miscalculations. When you tried to shoot a bird down and instead reactivated a Ruin Guard, to when you placed your foot on the wrong rock whilst climbing. He was always there to save you from yourself, seeing as you were somewhat clumsy.

You let out a soft chuckle at the memories. Xiao often ridiculing you afterwards before repeating himself about how fragile mortals were, and how you should be more careful.

Though you tried to keep your giggles quiet, the adeptus next to you looked your way. He normally had a perpetual look of annoyance, his brows always furrowed and his lips in a tight line. But for once, he seemed relaxed. Curious, too.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked.

“Ahah... nothing, sorry,” a few chuckles slipped through your words as you kept the small smile on your face.

“Did you want to head back to Liyue Harbor? I don’t know when Beidou plans to depart.”

He nodded, dropping his arms to his sides as you picked up your things. You did not carry much besides a backpack that was filled to the brim with your belongings. You slung it over your shoulder, as the two of you began walking back. Thankfully, it would not be a long walk, just twenty or so minutes if you did not run into any trouble.

You looked back at your traveling companion, he was quiet as usual. You knew what you bargained for, but there were times you wished he brought conversation on his own. Anything that was not relating to scolding you or not-so-subtly remind you to ‘stop being an idiot’ would’ve been preferred.

“What?” the adepti’s gruff voice bringing you back to reality.

You were startled when you heard him speak, but were quick to recover as you kept your eyes on the path ahead of you. You shrugged, readjusting your backpack to sling onto the other side.

“You were sort of staring kind of blankly earlier,” you answered.

“...Is there anything bothering you?”

“Bothering me? There is nothing that can bother an adepti,” Xiao replied. His golden eyes met with yours as he slowed down.

“However, there is something I must speak to you about.”

You raised an eyebrow, the two of you standing in the middle of the path. You two were close to the entrance of Liyue, and yet he stopped you from walking any further.

He rarely spoke to you of any significant matters, seeing as he had no reason to confide in a mortal about adepti business. So having him suddenly come out and say he needs to talk to you was slightly worrying.

“Our connection is quite strong, isn’t it? Even when I told you to keep your distance, you were stubborn, weren’t you?” he started with, crossing his arms again.

“And because of that, you’ve become more of a target for demons to feast upon since you could not obey my warnings. Do you recall the week previous when I had to save you from several demonic spirits in Tianqiu Valley?”

You slowly nodded, your confusion showing. You were not sure why he was bringing up his latest rescue mission, nor did you understand where he was going with whatever he was trying to say. And you seemed to think he did not know either, watching his eyes dart away for a moment.

Xiao hesitated, letting out a sigh and stepping away from you before he continued. He looked at Liyue from afar. The sun was beginning to set, as he could see through the entrance that people were rushing around, finishing their errands before retreating into the comfort of their homes for another cold night.

His eyes narrowed, moving his head to look at you from the side.

“... I feel it is my duty as your ‘traveling companion’ and as an adepti to... reassure you that I will keep protecting you,” he said, his voice lowering at the end of his words.

“I will remain by your side until you no longer need me. And I will protect you from anything that comes your way. Is that understood?”

“W-Well, sure, but... where’s this coming from?” you asked, knitting your brows together. He kept his back toward you as you laughed nervously to yourself, stepping closer.

“You sound concerned for me... That’s an awfully human emotion.”

“And you have no respect for the adepti,” Xiao retorted, as he continued walking down the path. You quickly followed behind him, trying to catch up to his side.

“Enough of this idle chatter. We must return to Inazuma. I simply wanted to remind you of my duty.”

You smiled at him. He truly had no idea how to handle himself in conversation. It was somewhat cute, in a way. He kept his face forward, not a glance towards you, as he remained quiet once more.

You raised your free arm, lightly patting your palm against his back as he flinched and snapped his head towards you. He was ready to ridicule you for your behavior, and perhaps remind you of your lack of respect for adepti again, but you were swift to interrupt his lecture.

“Thank you,” you said. Your voice soft, you could feel him relax under your touch before you slipped your hand away.

“I’m glad I have you by my side, Xiao.”

He blinked, staring into your eyes. For a moment, you felt the warmth behind his cold exterior and the companionship you formed. He had a dumbfounded expression for both your boldness of your actions and sincerity in your words, and he did not respond. That you could hear, at least. He mumbled something under his breath before he turned his head.

When you two had stepped foot into Liyue Harbor, you knew he would not talk to you for the rest of the trip back to Inazuma, but you also knew he would be the one standing outside your door that night. Protecting you from whatever challenged him, just as he promised.

#xiao x reader #xiao x you #XIAO RERUN WHEN #genshin impact #fanart #genshin impact fanart #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #アニメ #anime art #anime #原神 #artist on tumblr #illustration

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kim-monsterlings · 4 years

Text

Brae - M Merman x M Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; flirting, merman’s insecurities from his family, blowjob (+ mention of teeth, nothing too explicit), drinking alcohol, NSFW scene involving handjobs by the merman, mention of touching the merman’s slit, kissing, then angst with thoughts of drowning and a fluffy-ish ending

Wordcount: 6539

“Tropemas” Summary: when the mer insisting on befriending you returned day after day, falling for him was inevitable

Notes: this comes at the beautiful request of @nikipuppeteer and unfortunately I had already planned a soulmate au, but I loved the idea of a mlm mer fic too much to not do it!! This really got ahead of me and I love my boys, but so much I couldn’t let it go without it being up to my really annoying standards. I hope you love them <3

Masterlist // “Tropemas” Masterlist

No matter the dangers accompanied by falling asleep on an unanchored boat, lethargy always overcame you. It was only a small rowboat and one swayed by the gentlest of waves, hardly a comfortable place to rest and your neck always ached the evening after, but time on the sea had become like second nature to you now, and the napping was long ingrained in your afternoons out.

Though waking with water dripping on your face was rare.

Only one cloud needed to mar daylight for you to wait indoors for a brighter day. Beyond the threat of losing yourself at sea, a storm would ruin the sketchbook tucked to your lap. Fragile paper couldn’t survive the wind or rain. Scattered scrawls were no works of art, but after hours rocked at sea and memorising the crags of the cove, it was your treasure, one you took to after moving from the cities and finding peace in the small costal town, and the view was the first you’d had not from cramped flats.

Rare enough, another droplet cool dribbling down your cheek roused you to find the sketchbook damp too, tossed open. Pages wettened still from slender fingertips – clawed, tracing your latest landscaping of cliffs, pencil lines smudging into faded lines. Of all sketches, this hardly finished and quickly ruining one was nothing to prize, but the creature tipping you and your boat precariously lower with every breath seemed enamoured by it.

Watching the creature, you were torn from wanting to scare him off – if you could even scare a thing like him, corded muscle trembling with balancing your boat, sharp-finned where saltwater shone on his dark skin – or wanting to feign sleep longer, just to admire how his teal scales shimmered, clashing and darkening with navy and streaks of black. The darkest scales tipped pectoral fins, sharpened points glinting like the narrow slits in his throat, or the ridged scales rising from the curve of a dark back, down to where his long tail swayed in the water.

You itched to draw him. If portraits were your talent, the sloping of his tail beneath the water would be decorating your papers before night, if he hadn’t ruined them.

Each touch of claws almost tore through the soggy paper and he turned the page. Saltwater dripped from hair curling in the heat of the sun when the creature lurched up and the boat jostled. His hand came to your thigh before you rose from the bench, like he had known you were feigning sleep. Where he was so soaked by the sea, you hadn’t thought it possible the slender fingers stroking up your leg could be so warm, pressing against you to trace a more developed sketch – of the same view, but he admired all the same.

Seasickness had never plagued you before in all your time at sea but how the creature rocked it then made your stomach lurch. He had torn through the paper and some noise tumbled free of you, a panicked cry or curse and you reached to snatch it back before he could damage it more. The merman had stiffened. Claws you hadn’t felt before snagged at you bare thigh and the swaying of your small boat only ceased when he rose and clutched the edge tight. In a small way, you were grateful for that.

You weren’t so thankful that it brought him closer.

For the depth of colours in his scales, the sunlight brightening his rounding eyes forced back your bitterness. Equally dark hair shone a hidden navy with his head canting, though he remained as silent as you. His thin lips pulled back and you thought it a threat with predator’s teeth bared, until a black tongue slid against the points of his teeth and he smiled; a macabre smile, but the beauty of it was like the rest of him.

The sketchbook rested on your lap now, cradled, and that was where he lifted a slender arm, down to the book. Pointing to the paper then to himself, and back to you. Again. Once more, before the boat rocked.

“Do me,” he whispered, soft, disarmingly so that he came an inch more from the water and sunk the boat that much lower. “Do me or I may tip your boat.”

He dizzied your head like the boat had your senses. “You want… you want me to draw you?”

“Draw,” he echoed. When he stretched out to the paper, you let him trace the faded pencil lines and bright eyes peered up at you beneath uneven hair tangling along his forehead. “Draw me. Tomorrow at noon. Or the boat tips,” the merman breathed again through a glinting smile of daggered teeth, not entirely a tease. Smaller claws once on your blank sketchbook traced across your bare thigh, grazing up before nudging the hem of your shorts.

The boat tipped without him to held it steady, and only when he began to retreat did you catch his hand. His fingers slid through yours, claws falling to trace the deeper grooves in your palm when you asked, “do you have a name?”

“Don’t you?” In sharing yours – and hoping he wasn’t in any way fae, he smiled wider. “Brae. Noon.”

The waters carried you another hour before the touch of his thumb tracing along your wrist as he had the sketches left your thoughts. It was harder to banish him from your mind completely and he followed you home, the odd warmth of him smothered to the back of your chest where it ached. Wondering how his scales felt against you in place of his claws did you no good.

Noon came and inevitably, you were settled as far out as the day before, though you hadn’t a real choice in whether you were to return, regardless of this being a day you would nap in the sunlight without his demand.

Mer roamed the cove – it was renowned for them, notorious creatures known for luring humans out to toy with them far from land. If Brae had looked before at your art when you napped, you had no way of knowing, of knowing whether any mer had approached you before. If you left the boat moored today and returned tomorrow, you had no doubt that you would be turned into the sea.

Maybe, a little part of you so far hard to smother, wanted to see him. It was curiosity settling you on the bench of the bench, a pencil twisting through your fingers above a blank page. Most mer, those who made their homes at the cove, shimmered brighter; not so much navy but sky blue, softer hues. Brae’s fins were just that bit sharper, eyes smaller slits with less light to them, his body far stronger than any others – the first like him you knew of.

Time passing beneath the sun worked in convincing you Brae hadn’t been anything more than a hallucination. Only the damp blemishes and ripped pages anchored you a little longer – and the memory of his touch was too hard to forget, until a splash of water tipped the boat and lips pulled back into an attempted smile.

You curled the open page from range of where his head canted and saltwater dripped.

With him leaning closer, now was an opportune moment to tell him that, actually, unfortunately, portraits weren’t you specialty, else he wouldn’t need to ask for his, but the words never came when light warmed his rounding eyes.

“When will you start?”

“Start drawing?”

“Start drawing me,” he said, though his stare had risen from the blank page. Like you had only the day before, Brae appraised from your crown to your toes, tongue caught in his teeth the whole time. The weight of it settled in your chest uncomfortably; whatever mer standards were, you doubted you were anything but unappealing to a creature so beautiful, but no comment came. “Now?”

“If I’m to sketch you-“

“You are.” Deep beneath him, the slow swaying of his tail rose through to his arms curling on the boat’s edge. He rocked with every move and his attention flitted from your towels bundled at your feet to your satchel bag. “To draw me. You are.”

“I need you to-“

“On the beach.” Words overrun as you lost your thought. He hadn’t once stopped moving, dipping under the water and rising the other side of the boat, or reaching out to just brush his hand to yours before rushing back. Only his chin rested on the boat now as he said, “we should do it on the beach. Safer. Dry.”

Safer.

Coughing over your laugh couldn’t muffle it when you turned closer. “Weren’t you threatening to throw me out my boat yesterday?”

He frowned. “Not now. Tomorrow. The beach tomorrow.”

“Brae-“

Claws tipped your chin and all breath rushed from you. They were weapons, like daggers poised to cut as the predator he was, but it felt like a caress how he brought your face closer, near enough the cool air from water clinging to him brushed you. “Tomorrow.”

Being so near, the strength to protest waned. How the pencil hadn’t snapped between your fingers was beyond you; it was all that was left stopping you from returning the touch, wanting to feel his scales – were they smooth or rough, how would they feel against you? – and all you knew was that the touch of claws against the tightness locking your throat didn’t feel like a threat anymore.

If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.

“Will you lay still on the beach for me?”

“So you can stare at me?” Brae’s black tongue traced along his teeth with a low hum. “If you wish.” he said, a rising smile binding your throat tighter.

The claws now tracing against your top’s neckline bound your throat tighter. “So I can draw you.”

“Why still?”

“If you move, it’s harder to focus. Harder to draw you. I could- can I take a photo of you?” His answer came without a need to verbalise it; his smile was nothing like a threat, far from the twisting of his face and pressed fins beneath his jaw flaring. Under passing clouds, his darkening face harshened. In an effort to calm his growl, you swallowed. “Won’t people see you on the beach?”

Curiosity drove you to again. Before him, you hadn’t seen another mer so close. Flashes of scales glimmered beneath the water but they were a reclusive kind. Why he demanded a portrait yet refused a photography intrigued you, though not enough to outrightly question.

“See me?” Brae’s cheek turned onto his forearm. Beneath the high sun, seawater glistened on his dark skin, the edges of his gills and faint scales almost glowing. “Why would anyone rather look at me than you?”

The truth tingled on your lips. That he was beautiful, and your art could never do him justice nor any photo, but you swallowed it back. Until daylight fell and left a chill, the merman curled against your side, close enough one tremor could tip your boat. Only small talk passed between glances down, and each turn was returned with a small smile until those teeth earlier bared in threat no longer focused in your thoughts. Brae fell away with a lingering run of claws against your hand and the touch stayed with you long after you found yourself retracing the beginnings of his portrait that night. After the fuss of asking, it turned out you didn’t need a photograph to remember him.

Tales of reclusive mer lessened the popularity of this cove, which had been the enticement to it in moving. Finding a shelter of jagged rocks just beyond sight of anyone passing wasn’t hard, nor was it hard to find Brae among the waves when he crept up the beach- rather inelegantly but you couldn’t have done so any better with the huge tail dragging through wet sand.

“I see you sometimes.”

Brae heeded your plea that afternoon, resting not far from reach. Returning to water wasn’t a pressing urge when he only rested, hardly an exertion, but he thanked you for the slight shelter. His knuckles reached to brush you when he spoke and otherwise cushioned himself on his arms while you contented yourself by marking him.

“Sleeping is dangerous.”

That made your pencil slip. “Have you looked at my art before?”

Brae scoffed but turned away, not before his teeth bit on his lip. Shading came easier with the slight warmth in your chest that blossomed. If he had, he must have liked the art to want his own portrait and after a minute, you looked up to find your muse gone.

Not too far but a length of his tail away, the merman dug through hot sand. Looking beyond the way his scales glowed in this light, differently to when they shimmered beneath water, he cradled dozens of pebbles in his arms, face scrunched in looking for more. The pebbles mirrored him: some dark like coal, others among the occasional shell a soft blue. He continued unaware of your standing, muffling the pain of hot sand beneath your bare feet, how it stung like needles until you crouched and kneeled beside him.

“They’re pretty.” Brae clutched them closer. He attempted a sneak at your paper like he had all afternoon, and, like you had all afternoon, you tucked it away faster. This far, so soon, it was nothing of significance, but it had promise; promise from the evening of tending to it and tonight would be the same. “Will you take them back with you?”

“We gather pebbles.”

“Why?”

Brae’s teeth nibbled on his lip. “Mer secret.”

“Pebbles are a… a mer secret?”

He moved in silence, lifting two shades of pebbles before humming. “Yes. Pick.” One pebbled a blotched black, it was no hard choice to pick the softer teal pebble. Brae slotted it in his pile before his thin lips twitched. “Can I see?”

“No.” His smile fell, and his arm trembled beneath the stones. Had they not threatened to fall, the paper would’ve been in his grasp by then. “How will you take them all with you? Do you have something to carry them in?”

On your next afternoon by his side, Brae fawned over the netting pouch with holes just small enough pebbles wouldn’t slip through. He entrusted them to you overnight for safe keeping, had watched you clutch your bag tight as it weighed you down walking along the cove, and was quick to welcome you back, already settled and sprawled against the sand. He hadn’t understood the purpose of snow angels nor sand angels, but his arms turned out in the sand, close enough to snag your shorts, until he left you again.

From that day, your time together crept earlier. Unintentionally, but he always waited no matter how early you came to the cove, and he began returning your questions. Never telling the mer secret of why he hoarded colourful pebbles, but little questions, the most repeated being why you refused to show him his portrait, and you had to swat him away from your paper each time. On hotter days when the rocky shade didn’t suffice, he crept closer until his cheek nestled to your thigh beneath the shade of your sketchbook and when a quiet overcame you, his fingers ran along your forearm, following the twitching in your hand as you drew him laying against you.

Once, he slept on your lap. The running of claws fell low and only then you succumbed, carefully tucking back the dried ringlets from his smoothed forehead. Little scales scattered his jaw and glided beneath your fingers, though you stopped yourself from following them further when he turned closer and against your palm.

You missed him when you were home. On the evenings with only a nearly finished portrait to call company, you missed laying with him.

It hadn’t taken long for you walk down late one night, a half-opened bottle tucked near your supplies. Being near the cove now helped calm you, even if you came now only to settle against the familiar rocks and close your eyes to the crashing waves. Like the swaying of your boat, the faint warmth of sand beneath you lulled you, and you woke only to a soft whisper of your name.

“I drank… I drank this.”

Damp hair fell to your lap, a quiet groan turned into your thighs. The now emptied bottle fell into the sand and rolled down when Brae laughed, at first quietly, before turning and reaching out to your face. The touch of his claws fell to a loose embrace around your neck, where now he swallowed.

This late, you didn’t want to ask why he was here, how he had known – if he had even known, or if he came just like you. You only wanted to enjoy his company, however… inebriated. It hadn’t been much alcohol, and you would only feel slightly lightheaded had you finished it, but with Brae running his claws down your chest, it had to have been a little much for him.

“Wanna see,” he whispered – slurred, trying and failing to lean up on an elbow. “Me. Show… show me.”

Perhaps through pity, you did. Only through pity, and not from the slow rolling of heat in the pit of your stomach from his claws flexing, drawing you down closer as you opened to the page. It had come a long way, far from ever doing justice to the creature gasping, his defined jaw lowering and dark eyes lifting to you, but you welcomed the flush of pride from his growing smile.

“You make me look pretty. Pretty here,” he tapped the unfinished page. “Am not-not so pretty.”

Your voice came out a whisper as you returned the sketchbook, empty bottle with it. “You don’t think so?”

“Me? Pretty?” Brae huffed, a hot breath blowing his dried hair. Falling in long ringlets, your fingers twitched and in the hopes he wouldn’t remember, you reached out to tuck it back. “My tribe. They’re pretty. Pretty. Not me.”

His cheek turned into your palm when you traced the smoother scales scattering his jaw, down to the dip of his collarbones. “Did they tell you that?”

“Always. Not-I’m not them-like them,” he mumbled, losing himself to the alcohol still thick on his breath. “Never one of them.”

The sincerity sickened you. You wished your art could be better, so Brae saw a true reflection of himself but if it couldn’t be, if your work wasn’t enough, then all you could do was say so. “I think you’re beautiful,” you whispered looking out to the calming see, so lost in it you hadn’t noticed Brae shifting closer until he was level with you. “You are. Your colourings and how you lay in the sun and… you’re beautiful.”

You had more to say, so much more, but sand became your pillow. It dirtied your hair with your head tipping further back, a deeper angle to the kiss with Brae’s thumb pressing down on your chin. His parting lips carried a salty tang, a stronger sense of your emptied alcohol, but it fell away with his breaths hastening when his curling tongue tasted you, too.

Those same lips rose into a sly smile when you found the strength to reopen your fallen eyes and found Brae kissing himself lower. Drunken touches only minutes ago felt coherent now, bunching up your shirt for his lips to warm your stomach. Pressed beneath the muscle of his tail, a slow friction worked you into a heat but he fell further with his kisses nesting lower, a pause when he tugged on your shorts.

Every touch made you tremble. Brae settled between your legs and the sight alone was burning through you. He ran soft fingers down, following your stiffened cock as it twitched and ached. His tongue jutted through his lips to the side almost in thought, a breath before his fingers stroked up your length.

“All this for calling you beautiful?”

The merman’s head canted and that curling tongue flicked up the underside of your cock. Brae’s kiss rounded against your tip until he had you hard in his mouth and your eyes rolling back from the heat of him. For a creature of spines and claws and fangs, he kissed you reverently, deeper breaths growing shallow until he swallowed around you.

Through blurring eyes, barely lifting from the sand feeling hotter beneath you, you watched and felt his lips closing around you, groaning with his flattening of his tongue along the sensitive skin. Brae braced a hand on your tensing thigh and when the other stroked lower, a slight touch of claws grazing, you groaned and rolled your hips deeper against his hollowed throat.

Soft hair threaded around your hand. His growl rumbled deep to your hips as he bowed with your guidance, arching up until his throat tightened against you. Heat rushed in your stomach and his thick tongue swirled across your tip. The warmth of his lips fell down to your thighs the longer your body trembled.

“No.” Gentle fingers pinched your jaw until your lips met his. He tasted of saltwater and you and faint alcohol, nipping your tongue. “For… for being you.”

Until the sheen left his eyes, his smile no longer lopsided, Brae rested against you. Passing whispers came beneath the darkening sky and many were from you; with each whisper of his beauty, though you burned saying it, he turned impossibly closer and ghosted lips down your throat, your chest, wherever you were nearest.

“Remind me to call you beautiful more often,” you said, leaning over him. Weak arms ran up to your neck and it felt like a goodbye when he kissed you sweeter. No teeth caught your lips and no claws curled into your nape, only a touch of foreheads before he struggled into the water.

He had told you not to watch – “it’s embarrassing,” he’d frowned, the dead weight of his tail dragging in the sand – but you watched him go, and it was the last you saw of him for almost a month.

Your corner of the cove remained abandoned by the merman. No marks in the sand were left to show if he had ever come and from there, you couldn’t see far out to the waves, not like a mer could. If he watched you where you waited for him with your heavy bag and a nearly finished portrait, he never came.

Floating no longer felt right. Being on the water wasn’t right. This beach was wrong without a glimmer of navy flitting near you and on the sunniest days, the water almost clear, a hint of scales wouldn’t be missed when you stared down. The portrait was finished now; it had been finished for days.

If something had happened to him-

The thought burned in your throat and you swallowed it back.

Worse: if something hadn’t happened to him, Brae chose not to see you.

And if Brae truly avoided you, he couldn’t stop whatever creature had begun bumping under your boat. The surface barely rose with the smallest of waves but your boat rocked again, until water splashed with every jolt, not so different from the day Brae had almost toppled you, but different in every way.

Brighter scales darted beneath you before you ducked back into the – relative – safety of the boat. This wasn’t your merman, but the churning in your stomach made you think it was his tribe. For whatever reason, they taunted you, and at least two were on you now, countering the other’s hits so all you could was curl your knuckles against the bench until they ached.

You were going to be sick.

What could a frail oar do against creatures like them?

You were going to be really, really sick.

Any option was as bad as the other. Shore was too far to swim to if you wanted to avoid a watery grave. Trying to row and lowering the oar into water would be surrendering your only paddle. You couldn’t leave your boat. The portrait bundled on your lap would be ruined; they would ruin it.

It stopped with a heavier jolt, tipping so far water flooded your feet. The jaunts fell away minutes ago but your head swum too much for you to notice anything more than the shaking in your knees, chest braced against your thighs. One final shove to your boat shoved everything against you forward. Your bag skidded, the bench almost giving out beneath you, towels tangling, but the final shove didn’t topple you.

It surged closer to shore.

Only the faintest glimmer of navy disappeared when you looked back.

Water hadn’t felt right because it wasn’t. The rumours of mer weren’t folktale falsehoods. Maybe Brae wasn’t like them, but they tried to overturn you. They tried to ruin you and your portrait and had they succeeded, the promenade steady under your running feet wouldn’t have been something you were likely to experience again.

Leaving the cities had been your distraction. Leaving your family and friends for a calmer life by the beach had always been your dream, to turn to a simpler, less stressful life, yet the beach couldn’t be your solace anymore. Thinking of even your boat made you lurch to your feet in need of something to occupy you, anything but that merman lurking in the sea, anything but the creature you still wanted to see again, the same whose face mocked you from a hidden sketchbook.

After hardly any time at all, the sudden loss almost brought you to your knees. If this was grief, you didn’t want it. If that pang in your chest was heartbreak, you didn’t want it. Flames came so near to the portrait born of hours and sun and kisses it singed, but burning the paper felt like a burning your heart from your chest.

One last time.

One last hope.

Once more, before you burned him from your thoughts. The same taunts that occupied you like intrusions softened at night, when you imagined that in place of your fist was his touch, slender fingers rolling where you cock twitched beneath him. They came in dreams, in moments you lost concentration, and stalked you down to the cove where you settled the bag, the portrait tucked beside a lighter and driftwood.

Whispers of your name from the stirring waves doused the fire in your chest. Brae made it no further than the reach of waves when you collapsed against him, rambling to his lips, “it’s done. I finished it for you but-“

“It will be beautiful.” Brae framed your face in cold and trembling hands. “Like you.”

There was a haste to his kiss unlike before. When he teased you before with light nips rousing your desire, those touches tore back your shirt and bared you to the cold night. Brae wasted not one breath that was better spent settling against you pushed apart thighs, where the hard palm of his hand fell low to rub over your shorts until he coaxed you to roll up into his touch. Slender fingers curled around your hardening cock and stroked how you had dreamed of for weeks, the pad of his thumb following up to tease the seeping slit at the head.

“I want to touch you too,” you rasped. Brae’s laugh softened in the whistles of wind at your grunt when he rubbed tighter to your thick base, but he was soon to gasp with your fingers curling into the rougher scales on his hips until he dragged against you. “Here?”

Not even the crashing waves at his back could drown out the small whine. Where his taut stomach melded with the lightest of his scales, a slick coated them. The touch of it burned against your fingertips, tracing the swollen slit. He pumped your cock in his tight fist how you teased him, arching up when he ground down, his erection rising thick from the slit.

From laying over you, Brae’s trembling lips brushed yours once more. The slow fall of his forehead brushed your hair, his curls loose against your cheek and fluttering with every deep breath. How long he could breathe without struggle on land changed, and the touch of your hips rolling up, rolling against him, clearly took a toll, shorter gasps nestling into your neck. This was an exertion for him; how he trembled at your thumb following where his hand, rolling over the slick on the swollen, purple head.

Grinding his cock to yours came with difficulty as his tail dragged in sand, but a shock of pleasure bolting up to your crown until you strained to rut against him again. The desperation locked in your bodies wouldn't settle for anything less than his cock against yours. Soft blue and deeper navy nearer the tip, your mouth dried. The memory of his lopsided smile after stealing your alcohol struck you, too similar how he slurred you name from curling his fingers and gripping your cocks together. The cry lodged in your throat muffled against the slope of his throat where you kissed the scales there, chasing the rush of his pulse beneath his jaw.

Slick from his slit and hot, it was too much to bite back every moan and curse when he rolled his hips in time with yours. Brae learned fast. His palm rolled your sac slowly, drawing rougher pants, but it was a tighter rub that made you buck up. Your cock jutted against his base, far thicker and swollen, but against the wetter scales and he cried, “again. Closer, please.”

His hot touch stirred you into a delirious high. Brae was twitching, his body rocking hard and harder when you met him faster, arching up to graze the slick, sensitive skin of his slit.

"I want you," he breathed, disoriented kisses slowing when he trembled. "Come. Come for me."

If not for him, you dragged against his waist so you could feel the heat of him yourself. Brae’s fingers locked and he felt it as you did, your cock stiff when you came against his stomach, his scales, rasping when he rutted into his palm and a thicker release came minutes later against your thighs after you traced where his cock thickened at the slit.

In the moment his final gasp left him and Brae fell against you, he ought to be drawn, to be remembered forever. Soft arms wrapped you close to the warmth of him, away from the colder winds in the shelter of the rocks. Hot sweat glistened on his scales. It stuck your hair to your cheeks, where he brushed it away with kisses and closed eyes.

“Do you think anyone saw us?”

Brae's breath caught, but he swallowed past it. His knuckles grazed down your chest and up again. Stray scratches stung beneath the touch and his parted lips kissed it away. "I hope so," he breathed, and the words stirred something in your chest. Something primal and prideful; you wanted to be seen with him, this merman come to you one day, who decided they wanted you. "You were very loud."

Panting to his chest, you smiled. "And you were beautiful."

If there were mer watching, you hadn't noticed.

No head rested heavy on your chest when you woke. Evening had been a blanket to his embrace, but the stars were your only companion at the cove. Sand settled without hint of a trail leading down to the sea and if it had been windy, you might have excused it, pardoned the long-lasting cold on your bare body.

Those questions he had brushed away with a press of his tail to your hips rose to your throat like a fuel on fire. Brae came back. Brae left, after taking you on the beach. He returned to the sea and he left you alone and bare and shivering. He abandoned you where his tribe could see, where they could reach you and your bag-

Your bag.

It had been right there, right on the rocks and wedged firm. No wind could part it from them. No wind had, and no wind would lay it so carefully by the sloping of the beach, the flap resting open. The bag looked deflated, almost like… like it was empty.

“This isn’t funny,” you called out. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. If not a joke then something far, far crueller and each staggering step nearer the waves was a twist of the knife in your stomach. “Brae?”

Harsh water frothed at your ankles. It rose in spitting shivers up to your knees then thighs, where the evening’s memories dried and washed away. The waters this shallow were clear of mer but not of what you prayed was litter. Up to your hips now, stumbling in choppy waves and the cry that tore from you was unholy. It burned up through throat like bile and stung in your eyes. It stung in your chest where your ribs caved, the soaked papers and hours of nights in your lounge wasted in one, cruel jaunt.

Not just his portrait wrecked on the waters he crawled from, but your sketchbook.

How you found your way home was a miracle. You should have stayed in the water. You should have let Brae drown you, too.

Had his tribe done it? Had they been there while he stroked your cheek and lifted your chin in a soft kiss, his scales warming where your thighs tightened? That was all you could think and all you could bear to think. If it were anything more – if he really was so cruel, you’d rather never know, would rather blame it on his tribe for tearing him away.

You could drown your boat like your sketches. That cove belonged to him. It belonged to his tribe and you wouldn’t go near the water again, not willingly and if you saw him again, it would be in nightmares.

The only family you had lived in the cities far from you and too far for them to consider buying your boat, even taking it off your hands. The wood of it was old and would burn on a fire; best to be burned completely than sunken. Brae didn’t deserve anything of yours. He’d drowned your heart with your treasure.

If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.

Finding your boat moored and undamaged rose with a sting. The cruelty of his tribe ruined the wood beneath the water from their earlier taunting. You wished they had done more. If his tribe had sunken it, finding a dark bundle of seaweed cradling pebbles wouldn’t have made your legs sway beneath you. Whatever the mer secret behind them was, it wasn’t enough to entice you back. They weighed down your boat as they weighed on your shoulders but in settling into it before setting it alight, you couldn’t help but lift one.

It was the pebble he had asked you of, choosing from two. In your hand it felt like his scales, smooth and cold and wet.

It was still wet.

Pebbles scattered among larger stones as it fell from your hand but you didn’t watch them fall. You watched the fingertips careful on your arm, how they traced down your tense muscles with an unwelcome familiarity.

“The pebbles,” you seethed. “What do they mean?”

His touch softened and both hands rose to stroke against your unyielding fist. “Do you like them?”

Brae yelped as the favoured pebble smacked his forehead; you held another ready, but you hoped not to use it. Not to hurt him. The pain fresh in your chest urged to you but you couldn’t, and the tenderness in his hands slipping through your unfurling fingers held you closer.

His face scrunched. “When we wish to court a mate, we present pebbles. Do you like them?”

Brae never moved so slowly before – before he had wounded you enough to want nothing more than to hurt him; him, with the claws gentle on your palm and sharp teeth behind lips gracing your knuckles. No smile warmed his harsh face. Some satisfaction warmed you in shadows creeping beneath his eyes, where he lifted your palm. Loose tickled your fingers.

“I left my tribe.”

Brae’s whine quieted when you said, not in question, “taunting me wasn’t enough for them to accept you, was it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Will they welcome you back if I take your pebbles?” Water splashed with his surging up and it was then you succumbed, lifting your hand to frame his dripping face. Every whisper and clashing apology fell beneath you, blood rushing in your ears from just his lips turning to your wrist. “I’m leaving, Brae. Pretend I accepted. Say you drowned me if it helps you return to your tribe. Why you would want to is beyond me, but-”

“We mate for life. This is me. These,” he whispered, and beneath the water, distorted netting carrying more pebbles swayed when he lifted another. “These are me. Proposal of courtship.”

Approaching you had to be at their insistence. The threat to topple your boat them, too, and why Brae had insisted on land. Safer, he’d said, but that was where he hurt you more than they ever had. They may have told him to use you or trick you to love him, but it hurt the same, at their tricks or his.

He hadn’t looked up from where you stroked his cheekbones until you asked, “what does it mean to leave a tribe?”

“If I stay, I trespass.”

“What do mer do to trespassers?” Brae turned his face into your palm and your stomach fell. The choice before you wasn’t one you welcomed or even wanted to consider, but you were already reaching for the pebble you had thrown at him and curling it in your hand. “If you follow me, that is your choice. I owe you nothing. Even this is more than you deserve.”

The boat was tipping.

“But if you follow me,” you drew in a sharp breath. “I say when the courting is over and if I accept you. If I refuse, you respect that.”

His breath warmed your lips.

“And I will never draw you again.”

It was a lie. That morning, his face plagued every breath. Every fleeting memory of his touch consumed you. Scatterings of scales covered old papers and already your fingers itched for more, to purge him from you, but when you accepted – if you accepted him, only then would you ever consider sharing your art with him again.

Burning your boat could wait until the water dried from the sloping of scales to your chest, lips soft on yours and apologies sweet on his tongue. It could wait until he followed you wherever you chose, offering pebbles and nights sprawled on warm sand, where you always woke with a head nestled against your throat.

When.

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asweetprologue · 3 years

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me lámh le do lámh - Part V

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

They walked back in near silence, Geralt still dwelling on the swirling storm of guilt and yawning despair he found himself thrust into. Jaskier was quiet, unusually so, perhaps sensing Geralt’s sudden shift in mood. Geralt reminded himself once again that he wasn’t tricking Jaskier into anything. This wasn’t a marriage, not one that would be binding in any realm of men or even elves. It was a magic ritual he was using to save his friend’s life, he told himself firmly. That was all it could be, no matter how much Geralt’s heart demanded more.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jaskier finally said, as they exited the stairwell they’d come down back onto one of the upper levels. “More than usual, I mean.”

Geralt gave a noncommittal hum, not even knowing where to begin in explaining his reticence. Jaskier shuffled along behind him, and Geralt could hear how he was clenching and unclenching his hands around the strap of his shoulder bag, the leather creaking. “Are you… having second thoughts about this? It’s quite the undertaking, I understand, and if you feel it’s not worth it—”

“Jaskier,” Geralt snapped, “shut up. I’m fine.” His skin felt raw and overexposed, as if he’d downed one too many potions. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this unmoored, not since the early days of gaining his Child Surprise.

He could feel Jaskier bristle behind him even before he spoke. “Well forgive me for checking in,” the bard bit out. “Gods forbid I do something that reminds you that I care.”

Geralt sighed through his nose, clenching his teeth. He could not take this out on Jaskier, not when this was a situation he’d fabricated for himself. “I know you do, Jask,” he said, the closest thing he felt he could muster now to an apology. “That’s why we have to do this. I—” the I care for you too died in his throat, too close to the truth for comfort. “I need you around,” he settled on, still too much, too revealing. But Jaskier deserved to know that whatever Geralt might be feeling, he wanted to do this. He needed to do this.

“Of course,” Jaskier said, sounding tired for some reason. “For Ciri, I know. But if it’s such a burden, you can always ask Triss, you know. Or Vesemir, or any of your brothers. If you don’t want to do this, I’m the last one who will force you to go through with it.”

Geralt struggled to find the words to convince Jaskier of his intentions without giving himself away, and failed. The silence stretched on between them, a condemnation, and Jaskier heaved a sigh before pushing ahead. “Forget I said anything,” he muttered, head down as he stalked forward. Geralt opened his mouth to say something, anything to smooth out the defensive line of Jaskier’s shoulders, but nothing came out. He had nothing to offer that wouldn’t drive Jaskier even further away.

So after a moment, he followed in silence.

He allowed the distance between them to persist, Jaskier walking some thirty feet ahead of him. If he’d been closer, perhaps he would have seen the crack in the floor, or heard the grinding of stone. As it was, he looked up as Jaskier gave a sharp gasp of surprise, just as the sound of crumbling rock reached him. Jaskier turned and Geralt caught one look of shock on his face before he was suddenly gone, swallowed by the fragile earth.

Geralt shouted, an abstract sound of panic, and dashed down the passage to the hole that now marred the cavern floor. Heedless of the crumbling edge, he flung himself down to peer into the darkness. The floor here was clearly directly above another tunnel or cavern, and the ancient supports must have given way somewhere, making the ground unstable. The space below was utterly dark; not even Geralt’s enhanced eyes could pierce the darkness. Jaskier’s torch had gone out in the fall, probably crushed by rubble. He didn’t know if it was ten feet down or one hundred. Jaskier could be lying below him, bones shattered on the unforgiving ground, head cracked open—

Geralt swallowed past the nausea that rose in him at the thought. Leaning over the chasm, he called out, “Jaskier!”

There was no answer, and Geralt couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck,” he said, fumbling at his belt, “fuck, fuck.” He pulled out his potion pouch and dug until he found the Cat, throwing the bottle carelessly aside after he’d taken a few quick mouthfuls. After a few seconds, the cave around him bloomed into focus, all shades of sharp grey. He squinted down into the hole again, eyes seeking. It was still dark, but now with the Cat coursing through his veins he could make out vague shapes. It looked like the floor of the lower level was ten to fifteen feet down, cluttered with the rubble from the above passage. Geralt sucked in a sharp breath when he spotted a limp figure lying amongst the debris.

Without thinking, he slid his legs down into the chasm and dropped.

It wasn’t a far drop, not for a prepared witcher. He landed on the balls of his feet and allowed the impact to roll up through him, only barely twinging his bad knee. What made him sway was seeing Jaskier, in clear focus now, sprawled out between the rocks that littered the floor. He was so still, his head turned away from Geralt, and for a moment he was frozen, unable to bring himself to approach. If Jaskier was—if he was dead—

Geralt forced himself forward.

He heard the heartbeat first, and the relief that coursed through him was so overwhelming he could only stumble the rest of the way to Jaskier’s side. He dropped to his knees, reaching out to touch his face gently. This close, he could smell the irony tang of blood, and when he turned Jaskier’s head he could see a smear of dark on the stone below. He swallowed heavily. Head wounds bled a lot, of course, it might not be too bad. But they could also be deceptive, especially in humans. He wasn’t sure how far the damage went, if Jaskier’s brain had taken any injury, or his spine. He hovered for a moment, indecisive.

Jaskier stirred, groaning.

“Don’t move,” Geralt snapped, slipping his hand behind Jaskier’s neck to cradle his head.

Jaskier paid him no mind, shifting minutely and wincing as he did so. “Owch,” he said, thickly. “Geralt?”

“You fell.” Geralt kept his hand in place, lifting his other to prod gently at the cut on Jaskier’s forehead. It was hard to see in the dark, Cat making everything indistinguishable shades of black and white, but he could see that it wasn’t exceptionally deep. It seemed like he’d landed feet first, and then fallen and hit his head afterwards. If he’d landed face first, Geralt assumed things would be a lot messier. “Do you remember?”

Jaskier twisted, shuffling until he was on his back instead of his side, panting up at Geralt. He was squinting, and Geralt wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or just because it was dark. There was almost no light down here, and Jaskier’s dull human eyes were probably utterly blind. Geralt kept his hand in place, steadying Jaskier’s head, not wanting him to injure himself further. “Ban Aine. Ruins. Fucking floor. You were being a dick.” He let out a disgusted sound. “Ow.”

“You probably have a concussion,” Geralt said, relief and affection swimming up through him and merging oddly with his lingering guilt. It wasn’t truly that far of a fall, though he wasn’t entirely sure how far humans could fall. Geralt could probably have made it twice the distance and been perfectly fine; Jaskier seemed alright except for his head. “Need to know if it’s safe to move you. Any pain in your neck? Can you move your fingers?”

He watched as Jaskier slowly took stock, clenching and unclenching his hands, moving carefully. Nothing hurt aside from his head, it seemed, and Geralt allowed himself to breathe out some of the worry that was compressing his lungs. Jaskier was fine. A little dizzy from the growing knot on his head, but otherwise fine. Unable to help himself, Geralt pressed forward until their foreheads were just barely touching, careful of the bump just below Jaskier’s hairline.

Jaskier exhaled slowly. “Don’t tell me you were worried, witcher,” he said, his voice gently teasing.

Geralt just breathed for a moment, letting the horrible fear that had overtaken him rest behind his breastbone. “Sorry,” he said, trying to keep his grip on the back of Jaskier’s neck gentle. “For being a dick.”

Jaskier snorted softly, reaching up to card his fingers briefly through Geralt’s hair. The touch smoothed away the tense, tight feeling that had been playing across Geralt’s skin since he saw Jaskier tumble from his sight. “It’s alright. I’m quite used to the dramatics of witchers. Besides, now you have to be nice to me. I’m an invalid.”

“And you call me dramatic,” Geralt said, unable to keep the helpless fondness from his voice. “Think you can move?”

“Mm, yes, I have an absolute fucker of a headache but otherwise all limbs seem to be in their place. And I still don’t fancy spending the night down here. Where are we?” Jaskier’s head began to turn before he clearly thought the better of it. It wouldn’t have helped, anyways; the tunnels were pitch black. “Can you see?”

“Took some Cat,” Geralt grunted, standing. He tucked Jaskier’s hand into his own and helped lever him to his feet. The bard sucked in a breath at the change in elevation. Geralt was sympathetic; moving around wasn’t going to be helping his head at all. He stayed close, ready to offer his support, which was why he was so quick to reach out when Jaskier took one step forward and his right knee gave out. Geralt caught him by the arm as Jaskier hissed, half sharp inhale and half curse. “Shit,” he bit out, clinging to Geralt tightly. “Oh fuck that hurt, Melitele’s tits—”

“Where,” Geralt demanded, throat tight again.

“Must have twisted my ankle when I landed on it,” Jaskier panted, managing to sound wry despite the way his face was twisted up in pain.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed. “Too dark down here to look at it. Come on.” Jaskier made a noise of protest as Geralt began to pull away, but it was cut off abruptly as he reached down and swept his arm under Jaskier’s knees. The bard tumbled into his chest with a surprised gasp, one of his arms coming up around Geralt’s shoulders, clutching at his armor. The gasp quickly turned into a small grunt of pain, and Geralt tried to keep his movements steady enough that Jaskier’s head wouldn’t be jostled too much.

Jaskier gave him a dazed look as Geralt settled him. “Oh. My hero,” he said. Geralt was a bit worried by how breathy his voice suddenly sounded; if he was that winded from even that much light movement his head might be more injured than Geralt thought.

Geralt didn’t respond, more interested in getting them out before the Cat wore off. From their position he could see that the tunnel they were currently in—more of a path, really, with clear man-made walls—was elevated on one side. It was as good a lead as any, and he started up the slope.

It took perhaps half an hour for them to make their way back to the upper level, Jaskier tucked against Geralt’s chest as he navigated the winding corridors. Luckily it was fairly easy to tell when the air was closer to the surface. The tunnels that led lower into the ruins carried with them the stale scent of stone and ancient rot, so Geralt turned away from them and followed those that smelled fresher. They soon made their way back to what Geralt judged was the same level as where they’d left, though he couldn’t say whether they were in the same area. He could find no evidence of the hole that Jaskier had left behind, but eventually they reached a crumbled section of the wall that carried the scent of clean spring air. They had to squeeze through the narrow, natural crack in the rock beyond it, Jaskier set down in front of Geralt to limp his own way through. It had been too constricted to carry him, but Geralt still chewed on his cheek as he listened to Jaskier’s pained grunts of concentration.

Finally they stumbled out into the open air again—fully on the other side of the ruins from where they’d entered.

Geralt reached out a hand to steady Jaskier before he could fall, and the bard shot him a grateful look. Gently, Geralt pressed onto his shoulder until he was forced to sit on a rocky outcropping near the entrance to their little escape path. “Stay here,” he instructed. “I’ll go get Roach and we can make camp again on this side.”

Jaskier’s brows pinched together. “But we already made camp on the other side,” he said. His eyes were squinted again, but this time Geralt expected it was because the setting sunlight was hurting his head. Geralt wasn’t faring all that much better, though the Cat would probably be leaving his system soon. At the moment the world was overexposed, all the color leached out while the sky and reflections of sunlight on the surrounding rocks blinded him.

“You’re injured,” was all he said. “Just wait here.”

Jaskier pouted, and Geralt felt something unclench in his chest at the expression. If he was being a brat he couldn’t be feeling too bad. “Fine, witcher. But I think you’re being dramatic again.”

Geralt just raised an eyebrow at him. Jaskier huffed as if he knew exactly what Geralt was thinking. Hypocrite.

“Don’t get into trouble,” Geralt instructed, and then turned to make his way back to the other side of the ruins.

By the time he collected Roach and made it back to the rocky outcropping, it was nearing dusk. He muttered a few choice curses under his breath; it would be difficult to treat Jaskier’s wounds in the dark. As he rounded the bend in the ruins he had a moment of unbridled panic; the place he’d left Jaskier was vacant. It faded after a moment, however. Jaskier’s scent was still thick on the air, lavender and campfire smoke masked by a superficial irony tang. He found the bard tucked against a pillar, out of immediate view. Geralt released Roach’s reins to kneel next to him, reaching out to wrap a hand around Jaskier’s shoulder again. The bard startled under his fingers, moaning when the sudden motion jostled his head. The befuddled expression he turned on Geralt was tense with pain, but endearing despite it.

“You fell asleep,” Geralt informed him, his stomach twisted up with affection and worry. Gods, being in love was unbearable.

“Oh,” Jaskier said, reaching up to scrub a hand over his face. “Sorry. Roach?”

“Got her,” Geralt replied. “I’m gonna set up camp and then I’ll tend to your ankle.”

Jaskier didn’t look immediately thrilled by the prospect.

Geralt set up camp in record time, tossing out their bedrolls and lighting a few pieces of wood with igni, probably the sloppiest fire he’d ever put together. Once finished he helped Jaskier over to one of the bedrolls, sitting him down and pulling over the bag that they kept their basic medical supplies in.

There wasn’t a lot he could do for the ankle. If it was truly sprained it might help to brace it, but in reality Jaskier was just going to have to keep off of it for a few days. The head he could at least tend to, and he did, using boiled water to wipe away the tacky blood from where it had dripped over Jaskier’s forehead and clotted in his eyebrow. Jaskier winced away from the gentle pressure, but the wound didn’t start bleeding again, which Geralt counted as a win. Once done he checked the rest of Jaskier’s head for other bumps, but there was nothing aside from the one on his forehead. He was lucky; if it had been the back of his head he’d certainly have a raging concussion. As it was he seemed mostly fine, if a little dazed and photosensitive. Hopefully a few good night’s rest would see to that.

The ankle he did what he could for, strapping two branches on either side of Jaskier’s foot and pinning them down with bandages. It wasn’t professional work, but it would keep him from moving it too much while he slept. When he was finally finished Geralt tossed the bloody rags away and sighed, eying his handiwork.

Jaskier, who had been curiously silent through the entire production, said, “This certainly flips the script a bit, mm?”

Geralt blinked at him, pulled from his focus on Jaskier’s injuries. “What?”

Jaskier gave him a lopsided grin, almost sheepish. “Usually I’m the one patching you up,” he said. His eyes lost focus slightly, staring down at Geralt’s armor vacantly. “I think I like being on this side of things better.”

Geralt swallowed. He knew he should say something lighthearted, tease Jaskier about just liking the pampering, but instead he said, “I don’t.”

Jaskier’s gaze focused back on him, and eyebrows raised in a startled expression. And then the grin was back, wider than before but somehow more brittle. “Well then,” he said, “is the great Geralt of Rivia admitting that he cares?”

Something about his tone was missing the typical teasing lit, more self deferential than anything. As if he already knew the answer, and it wasn’t one he favored. Jaskier knew that Geralt wasn’t as emotionless as the tales claimed; he had seen first hand how Geralt had once twisted himself up over Yennefer, how devoted he was to Ciri, the affection he had for his brothers. Which meant that Jaskier just didn’t think Geralt cared about him.

It made Geralt want to fight something, or to pull Jaskier close and tell him just how wrong he was. He swallowed against the urge to reach out, instead looking down and needlessly adjusting the bandage around Jaskier’s ankle. “It’s not just for Ciri,” he admitted, allowing some part of the truth to float to the surface. Jaskier deserved at least that much.

“What?”

“It’s not—I don’t just want you around in case something happens. I mean, I do, of course, Ciri loves you, but.” Why was this so hard? Jaskier made finding his words seem so easy, effortless from years of practice and natural talent. Geralt forced himself to take a steadying breath. “You’re a good travelling companion. You make my life… better.”

Jaskier just stared at him for a long moment, his lips parted slightly. Geralt wanted, with an acuteness that bordered on physical pain, to put his mouth there, like a punctuation to his declaration. Finally Jaskier gathered himself and said, “Oh, well… Thank you. That’s rather good to hear.”

Geralt nodded, turning away to deal with washing out the rags and seeing about making them something to eat. After a few minutes of silence he could bear the tension in the air no longer, and stood. “I’m going to see if I can catch something,” he said, grabbing his crossbow from its place on Roach’s saddle. “Shout if you need me, I’ll stay close.”

Jaskier nodded absently, just watching him as Geralt gathered up the things he would need for the hunt. Just as he was about to make his way into the trees at the edge of the ruins, he heard Jaskier’s voice behind him, across the campfire.

“You make my life better, too.”

And Geralt didn’t even know what to do with that, the way those words curled through him and around his heart. He fled into the forest without a backward glance, the oathstone sitting heavily in his pocket.

Halfway through!! And another piece of art to go along with it! The piece in this chapter is by the amazing @herostag, and I just adore it. The black and white because of Geralt taking the Cat is such a nice touch!

#geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher #fanfic #fic #writing #my work #me lamh #multichapter #big bang #geraskierbigbang #herostag #art

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Faebruary: Fake Dating

M Faerie X F human, 7,922 words

You guys remember this post? Well, here’s the story it was based on. A human gets lost in the Faerie world, and her only hope of getting back home safe is agreeing to go on a date with one smug Faerie boy. Hope you enjoy!

Admittedly, this was probably something you should have seen coming when you stepped into a fairy ring.

It was stupid. Everyone said you weren’t supposed to step inside the little circles of mushrooms that sprouted up all over the hills. But it was just stupid. Fairies weren’t real. So when there had been a circle of mushrooms across your path, you had just walked toward it.

The instant your foot crossed the line, there was a sickening spinning feeling in your stomach. Your foot plunged down like you’d missed a step in the dark and you fell into a swirling sea of mist.

You came to spitting out leaves, though you couldn’t remember hitting the ground. It was as if the ground had materialized against your face. Slowly, you staggered upright.

There was no longer sunlight. The forest was full of mist. And the trees seemed much more closely clustered than they had before. Their bark was darker, their branches more gnarled and reaching.

It was deathly silent. You wrapped your jacket closer around yourself. “Hello?” you called. Your voice died a foot from your throat. It was like the mist absorbed the sound.

Several feet in front of you, a pale blue light blinked into being.

“Hey!” you called. “I’m over here!” The blue light winked and bobbed, then began to shrink into the distance. You plunged through the foliage after it.

No matter how fast you ran, the light seemed to be permanently ahead of you. It sped up as you went onward until you were flat-out sprinting to keep up.

“I wouldn’t follow the light if I were you.”

You skidded to a stop, feet skidding on the damp leaves. The voice had come from somewhere above you. Squinting in the dim light, you could make out a figure crouching in the tree branches. Lightning fast, the figure leaped, vanishing into the mists.

“Fuck!” you swore, looking around. The figure was gone. It had moved so fast you hadn’t even been able to see where it had gone. Frantic, you looked for the blue light. Had it gotten away while you were looking at the figure?

“You’re not going to lose the light.” The voice came from behind and above you this time. You whipped toward it. The figure was pointing into the distance. Following the finger, you could see the gentle gleam of blue light bobbing there, like it was waiting.

An unsettled crawling feeling moved up your spine. “How did you know it was going t be there?”

Details of the figure were impossible to make out in the dim lighting, but you could hear that he was grinning. “Because will-O-the-wisps are nothing if not predictable.”

He punctuated his sentence by leaping from the tree and coming to a crouched landing in front of you.

You stared. What had landed in front of you was not human. He looked vaguely human, even handsome, by some definitions. A strong, though narrow, jaw, sharp nose, black hair that was teased back into a carefully disheveled style. But he was dressed in odd clothes, the sort of thing you’d expect from an old English court, and he had a tail. A long, thin tail that weaved and twisted behind him like it was caught in a current. And he had antlers, small, but pronounced antlers.

“I forgot,” he said. “Mortals are so often stunned into silence when they see the natural splendor of the Fair Folk.”

That made you find your tongue. “What are you?”

His smirk vanished. “There was a time when mortals were rightfully respectful of us. If you had half a head of sense, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for you to do so. You didn’t, though you kept your mouth cautiously shut. He snorted. “I’m a Fae. One of the Fair Folk. And you, little mortal, are utterly trapped in the Faerie lands.”

“Trapped?” you repeated. An icy cold stone dropped into your stomach.

The Faerie grinned. “Now you see the truth of your situation. Yes. You’re trapped. Unless you convince a Faerie to let you go, you’ll be trapped in this land for all eternity.” He swept closer to you. “And this place is not safe for lone mortals. There are things here that would make you wish the will-O-the-wisp would have dragged you down into its bog and stripped the meat from your bones.”

You couldn’t repress a shudder. The Fae noticed and his smile grew wider. “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason,” you said, keeping your eyes on him.

“Me?” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, the picture of faux-innocence. “I want to show you the way out. You do want to go home, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh huh. And I’m assuming you want something in return.”

His lips curled. “Figures the one thing humans wouldn’t forget about a Faerie is that we like even trades. It would make things so much easier.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his antlers. “Yes. If you would like me to guide you out of the Faerie world, then I will need something in return.”

He didn’t continue. You narrowed your eyes at him. “And what is that?”

He huffed out a sigh. “Not going to write me a blank check, hm? Fine. If I am going to lead you out of here, I need you to agree to attend a Faerie party with me.”

That threw you for a loop. “You want me to what?”

“Attend a party with me,” he said, grinning at your confusion.

“That’s it?” you asked. He nodded.

“One night, twelve hours, at a party with me,” he said. “All I need is for you to attend as my date.”

That seemed far too good to be true. “Is this a trick? Some kind of way to trap me or humiliate me or otherwise coerce me into staying?”

The Faerie rolled his eyes. “Are all humans so suspicious? No. I just need a date.”

“Why don’t you pick a Faerie, then?” you asked.

“Because I think you would piss of my parents the most,” he said.

You lifted one of your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

He waved a hand. “Neither. I just need a mortal. That would completely ruin their night.”

There was genuine venom in his voice when he said it. You stared at him, struck dumb. How old was he? You mentally reassessed him. His age was sort of difficult to determine. There was an unearthly beauty to him, no sign of the sort of little imperfections that come around with age. But if you looked really closely, studied the lines of his face, he looked like someone barely out of his teenage years. Maybe nineteen, or at least the Faerie equivalent. You held back a snort. At least maturity wise, you were probably around two years older than he was.

The Faerie drew himself up haughtily, apparently taking your silence as some sort of agreement. “You must state your agreement out loud. It will be a Faerie agreement, so there will be no going back on your deal.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Backing out of a Faerie deal is not a good idea, especially for a fragile mortal.”

You eyed him cautiously. There was still a chance he was trying to trick you or coerce you or trying to do something else of the sort. But, given how young he seemed, you were somewhat less inclined to suspicion. The longer you spent with him, the more affected his persona seemed. It was the posturing of someone who had just been given their first taste of power and was still unsure how to properly use it.

“All right,” you said. “How do we make an agreement?”

The Faerie smiled smugly and extended a hand. Several of his fingers were clad with large, heavy rings, inset with black gems. All of them bore a triangular symbol. “Take my hand.” He said it like it was some sort of great favor to you. You did so. His fingers felt oddly sharp under his skin, slender and bony. “Now. The stipulations of this deal are that I will return you to the human world, to your home. In exchange for this, you will attend a dance with me as my date. You will be my date for twelve hours, over one night. Once the night is over, I will return you home again.”

“I have stipulations,” you said, forcing your voice to be confident. He lifted an eyebrow, but allowed your to continue. “While I am your guest, you will not conspire against me in any way. You will not allow me to come to any harm, nor will you attempt to trap me here once more. If I am harmed in any way, the deal is null and void and you will return me home immediately.”

The Faerie wrinkled his nose. “I would not allow my date to be harmed. Even if you are a mortal, the rules of hospitality still apply to you.”

“And you won’t allow me to unknowingly do anything that could harm me,” you added. The Faerie gave you a sarcastic look.

“Are you finished?” he drawled. You hesitated, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you might need. Nothing came immediately to mind.

“Yes. I’m finished,” you said, however suspiciously. The Faerie grinned.

“Then the deal is struck.” His voice seemed to boom through the forest. A tingling sensation ran across the back of your hand, then it sharpened into a piercing sting, like an insect was biting the back of your hand. You yelped, but the Faerie held onto your hand firmly.

The sting faded and the Faerie released your fingers. You shook your hand, trying to get the blood to flow through it again. On the back of your hand, imprinted as neatly on your skin as a tattoo, was a black marking. It was a circle, emblazoned with some kind of angular sigil.

“It marks our bargain,” the Faerie said, showing you his own hand. He was similarly marked, though his brand was bright purple. “Should either of us break it, the mark will sink into our skin, and we shall endure some sort of tragedy.” He smiled, all needle-sharp teeth and cruelty. “So be certain that you do not break it.”

“I won’t,” you said, voice flinty. The Faerie looked amused by your anger.

“Then I shall fulfill my bargain first,” he said. He held out his arm to you, as if he was escorting you to a party rather than freeing you from an alien realm. “Shall we go?”

You hesitated, but he had made a promise. And you had also heard that Faeries couldn’t lie. You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his. “Yes.”

The Faerie took a step forward and the ground tilted under your feet. The mist billowed out obscuring your vision. The only thing that seemed real was the Faerie next to you. Your grip on him tightened, despite yourself.

“Move,” the Faerie said into your ear. You took an uncertain step forward. The mist had covered the ground so thickly that it looked like you were walking on clouds. When you took a step forward, the ground seemed to spin under your feet, like you were covering more distance than you should have been. You felt dizzy, but the Faerie moved forward with uncompromising speed and pulled you along. Only a few steps later, the mist had disoriented you so much that you couldn’t tell where anything was. The world seemed to be spinning around you even when you weren’t moving. You needed to cling to the Faerie’s arm to stay on your feet.

Sunlight pierced through the trees and you squinted your eyes shut. The mist evaporated within seconds and you were standing once more in your familiar forest, blinking up into the bright light.

“And my part of the bargain has been fulfilled.” The Faerie looked no less alien and beautiful in the human world. He grinned at you. “Home again, exactly where you were taken.”

You were still clinging to his arm, you realized. Slowly, you unwound your fingers from his shirt and stepped away.

“I shall return for you on the night of the Winter Ball.”

“Which is when?” you asked.

“The full moon next. I shall find you proper garments.” He gave you a critical once over, indicating that he wasn’t optimistic about your chances of finding them yourself. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We will meet again then.”

Mist rolled across your vision. When it melted away again, he was gone. You stared at the spot for a moment, then looked down at your hand. The marking was still there, as starkly black as it had been before. At least it was proof that you hadn’t made it up. With a final glance at the Faerie ring a few feet away, you turned and headed out of the forest.

The sun’s position told you that you should have arrived back a few hours after you left. Your arrival home informed you that was actually a day and a few hours since you’d left. Your mother left you with a lecture ringing in your ears, one that had only gotten more aggressive when she’d seen the marking on the back of your hand. No matter what you said, there was no way to convince her that you hadn’t gotten drunk, gotten a tattoo, and passed out in the woods somewhere. Admittedly, you were a little disheveled. Once you had freed yourself from her grasp, you slipped up to your room and checked your calendar.

The next full moon was just over a week away. You marked it off on your calendar and took a deep breath. Right. Time to start prepping.

Your week was filled with pawing through old books and scouring the internet for every scrap of Faerie lore that you could find. By the time the full moon had rolled around, you had gathered as many supplies as you could find.

You were waiting in your room uncertainly when the full moon rose. The Faerie had told you he would find you, but did you need to be outside for it?

Before you could make any decisions on it, the moonlight filtering through your window thickened into a sheet of silver. It rippled and the Faerie stepped out of it like a doorway.

Unfairly, he looked even more handsome than he had when you’d met in the woods. He was dressed in silvery clothes, a flowing robe and cloak with a silvery ruff. His tail and ears were adorned with silver bangles, a choker pressed tight to his throat, and his horns were covered in silvery strands, like tinsel.

“You could have freshened up a little more,” he said, giving you a once-over. You gritted your teeth and one of your hands went to the little bag you had tied to your waist, hidden securely under your shirt. It was filled with salt and little pieces of iron. More iron and salt packets lined the inside of your clothes and you had strapped an iron knife to the inside of your thigh. A string of rowan berries was tied at your neck. With any fortune, those charms would be enough to drive off any cruel Faeries.

“I thought you were going to provide me with the garments you found appropriate,” you said in a clipped voice.

“Only because mortals unilaterally lack taste,” he said. “There’s really only so much I can do.” He stepped back and gave a broad gesture toward the shaft of moonlight. “We only have an hour before the Ball starts. Hopefully that’s enough time to make you presentable.”

You drew yourself up and stepped through the portal of light. A chill rolled over your skin, like you had stepped through a cloud of mist.

One of your feet struck a tiled floor and you stopped. The moonlight faded into a tall, ice-white room with an arched ceiling and silvery lights decorating the walls. You paused to take in the décor and the Faerie walked into your back.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, glaring at you. You glared back. “Follow me. I have a dress picked out for you.”

He led you into a small room. A curtain divided it in half and there was a dress draped over a chair. It was gauzy and made of pale blues, silvers, and white. “Put it on. One of the servants will do your hair.”

“Servants?” you said, but he had already swept back out of the room. You sighed and picked up the dress. At least it wasn’t overly elaborate.

You slipped hurriedly into the dress. It was clearly simpler than his outfit, with far less adornment. Perhaps mortals weren’t allowed to wear as much finery as Faeries, or perhaps he just didn’t want you to outshine him. Either way, you were grateful for anything that made the outfit easier to wear.

The servants, as it turned out, were small, fluttering creatures that did your hair in a quick, simple style, a braid that was wound at the nape of your neck and secured with a silver pin. You caught a glance of yourself in a silver reflection. The dress emphasized your curves and complimented your skin tone. Your beauty wasn’t stunning, but it was simple and understated.

As soon as the servants departed, the Faerie was sweeping back into the room, cape swirling around his body. He looked you up and down. “Well, you can clean up nicely,” he said. You caught the way his eyes lingered on you. The faintest hint of a blush colored his cheeks, but then he was turning away. “Come. We need to hurry to arrive on time.”

You picked up your skirts and hurried down the hall after him. Thankfully the shimmering heels you wore were short, so it was not so difficult to walk in them. “I still don’t know your name,” you said as you caught up with him. His gaze shifted to yours suspiciously. Names were important to Faeries, you had read. Clearly, he was trying to determine if you knew that or if you were speaking in ignorance.

Finally, he spoke. “You may not have my name, but you may call me Elwain.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “And yours?”

You told him, mimicking his wording. It was hard to tell if his expression was disappointed or not. He just strode out of the front door and onto the front steps.

Outside was all greenery, and pale, twinkling lights. Elwain led you down the steps and toward a skeletal white horse. You shivered when its pale eyes turned to you. Its mane and tail rippled and flickered like it was made of mist. There was an elegant saddle attached to its back and Elwain easily gripped the reins and pulled himself up onto its back. You hesitated, uncertain of how to climb on. You’d never ridden a horse before.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Elwain said. You glared at him. He merely rolled his eyes and extended a hand. You gripped it. His fingers were strong and steady against yours as he pulled you up into the saddle behind him. Your hands moved automatically to his waist. A flicker of something moved through your stomach before you quashed it.

The horse took off, hooves striking the ground with a sound like metal clanging. You lurched into Elwain’s back, fingers tightening at his waist. His breath caught for a moment, though you weren’t sure if it was actually your grip causing it.

The ride was swift and rocky. You were pressed awkwardly to Elwain’s back for most of it, leaning against him with every motion of the mount.

You were expecting to stop at another house, some sort of grand mansion like the one you’d left from. Instead, you stopped outside a grove of trees. They were covered in twinkling lights and noises of whooping celebration echoed through the air.

Elwain dismounted flawlessly. You twisted, attempting to copy his elegant motion. Your foot caught in the stirrup. With a stomach-flipping jolt, you stumbled.

A hand braced itself between your shoulder blades. The back of your head impacted a chest. You tilted your gaze backward. The upside-down face of Elwain stared back at you. “Mortals,” he sighed. “Hold onto me.” He shifted his position so you could get your arms around his neck. That fluttering feeling of attraction started in your chest again as he balanced you against his shoulder and reached down to undo your foot from its catch in the stirrup.

As soon as your leg was free, he lifted you up, carrying you away from the horse. “Are you all right?” he asked. You could feel his breath against your cheek. Your faces were right next to each other.

“I’m fine,” you said. There was a slight catch in your voice. A pink flush worked across Elwain’s face and he deposited you on the ground once more.

“Then we should go.” He looked at you for a moment, then sighed and reached out and fiddled with the choker at your neck. His fingers traced lightly over your skin. Your breath caught.

“There. Better,” he said, drawing himself up. “Take my arm. Stay close to me. Avoid eating anything. Take nothing from anyone. Do you understand?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You looped your arm through his. He looked at you for a moment longer, then turned toward the entrance of the party.

Music filtered through the air as you stepped through the grove of trees. It was odd, but alluring. It reminded you of lights shifting on walls, the tone constantly changing with odd trills throughout, but it was still beautiful. You shook your head, refocusing.

People swirled around you as you entered the clearing. They were strange, dressed in flowing robes and bright jewels that hung from tails and horns. As odd as it all was, it was hard to tear your eyes away. Everything was kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing.

“Try not to look,” Elwain said. His voice was less than an inch from your ear. “Mortal minds struggle to comprehend the true nature of Faeries.” You lowered your gaze to the ground.

Elwain led you onward, across the forest floor, toward the center of the throng. Bright lights fell on you and you squinted against them. “Announcing the Silver Son, Elwain Corridale, and his mortal consort!”

There was a sudden burst of murmuring, chittering, and general commotion. You lifted your chin, meeting the gazes of the Faeries who were looking at you with interest. Across the clearing, you could see two people, similarly beautiful and draped in clothes similar to Elwain’s, glaring. Presumably Elwain’s parents. You stared resolutely back at them.

The lights shifted away from you, but you could feel the gazes of the crowd on you regardless as Elwain led you over to the edge of the grove.

“Those two strict looking people your parents?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” Elwain whispered back. “Charming, aren’t they?” There was a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“I’m assuming you don’t get along,” you said. You were deliberately not looking at them, but you could feel their cool gazes on you. Elwain snorted.

“No. We don’t.” His gaze flicked over to them, eyes narrowed. “They seem quite irritated, do they not?” There was a note of distinct pleasure in his voice. His pale, inviting lips quirked into a small smile.

“They do,” you said cautiously. “Because you’re with a mortal?”

“Indeed.” He caught your curious gaze and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shall have to sate your curiosity now?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” you said. “It doesn’t seem like it, considering that you’re hiding in a corner in the middle of a party.”

His gaze snapped over to you, lips curling. “You are especially irritating, even for a mortal, you know?” he said. You just looked at him steadily. He huffed out a sigh and looked back out at the dance floor. “We have not been getting along for a while.”

He lapsed into silence and you waited for a moment. “Why not?” you pressed when his was clear he was not going to be forthcoming with the answers.

Elwain grimaced. “I am the oldest of my family, set to inherit their wealth and land and the responsibility of keeping the family name out of the mud and in good standing. I’d much rather not have the responsibility. My younger sibling would be far better at taking the helm, but I am the eldest, so it falls to me, regardless of whether or not I want it, or would even be particularly good at it.” A sharp, cold grin crossed his face. “My parents have been so insistent that I take the position, regardless of my own feelings, so I figured that aggressively smearing the family name would, at the very least, piss them off. If they won’t change their decision, I can make them regret it.” He laughed. It was sharp and brittle, almost like a crow’s caw. Despite yourself, you smirked. Elwain caught your expression. “You seem… pleased.”

“It’s funny,” you admitted. “And I can get behind the idea of spiting your parents.”

Elwain’s smile shifted. It was a subtle thing, just a twitch of his lips and a smoothing of his brows, but it altered his entire expression. There was genuine happiness in his face, and his ethereal beauty melted into something gentler and more boyish. Your stomach gave a little flip. “You’re not irritated?” he asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Mortals always seem to get awfully huffy about being used by Faeries.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t irritated. But I understand,” you said. You cast your gaze over at his parents again. The man was talking to someone with enormous antlers and strange, twisting legs, but his mother was glaring at you. Her gaze was like ice. It took all your will to repress a shiver. “Would you like to dance?”

Elwain gave you a surprised look. “You’d like to dance?”

“Better than standing off to one side. And if we’re going to try to be convincing to your parents, we’ll need to put on a better show than this.” Elwain’s surprise melted into an expression of amusement. His arm tightened on yours.

“Certainly. Wonderful point. Shall we?” He pulled you out onto the dance floor, threading you through the Faeries that were already out there. You ended up roughly toward the center. Some Faeries, the ones you figured were lower-class, avoided you, while others completely ignored your presence. Elwain stopped and turned to you, one hand settling on your waist, the other hand gripping yours. “Will you be able to keep up?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

You grinned back, mimicking his sharp grin. “Try me.”

The music was fast and energetic as you started to move. The beat was bouncing, easy to keep track of. Elwain led and you followed easily. Together, you swirled and weaved around the other couples.

Elwain’s hand shifted on your waist, tugging you closer to him. His fingers interlaced with yours. The beat of the music thrummed through your body, pounding in time with your heart. You were tepidly aware of other people around you, but you paid them no mind. Instead, you focused on Elwain’s face above yours, the slight knit of his brow as he focused on each dance move.

The music came to a stop. You blinked. It was as if you were stepping out of a trance, or waking from a dream. Your body was pressed against Elwain’s, almost chest to chest. With every step, you had drawn closer to each other. Your head was tilted sharply back to still look him in his face. His lips were parted slightly, and you found yourself tracing the curve of his mouth with your eyes. His fingers were tight on your lower back, tangled in the fabric of your dress.

“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Elwain said. There was still that little edge to his voice, but it was wavering, as if it was a struggle to keep it up. He was panting a little, and you weren’t sure if it was actually from the exertion or not.

“So are you,” you said. You were staring up into his eyes. His pupils were large, endless and abyssal. He let out a slow, shuddering breath. His grip on your back loosened.

As you broke apart, you became aware of the gazes that rested upon you. Half the Faeries on the dance floor around you were staring, only swaying vaguely as a pretense for dancing. “Take a bow,” Elwain said, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smile. He swept out an arm and you mimicked him before bending low into a deep bow.

There was some scattered applause as you departed the dance floor, returning to your original place. Elwain was smiling in a smug, self-satisfied way. “I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain, yes?” you asked in an undertone.

Elwain looked down at you. “You’re certainly more effective than I thought you would be,” he said. “I can’t quite remember the last time I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” you decided.

“Good,” Elwain said. His voice quieted a little and sincerity blossomed in his tone. “I meant it as one.”

Before you could fully register what he’d said, Elwain’s mother came sweeping across the room toward you. She looked regal and fine, like a sculpture carved out of ice, her eyes blazing with cold fire. Her blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, set in place with a silver, diamond-encrusted comb.

“Mother,” Elwain said. His voice was chilly enough to provoke a shiver, but you lifted your chin and stared defiantly back as his mother looked you up and down. Her lip curled and she gave you a clear look of disapproval.

“My son,” she said. Her voice hit like a whip. It took some willpower to avoid flinching. “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” It was clearly not a suggestion.

“Of course,” Elwain said, his voice measured and polite. He turned to you and fixed you with a smile. It was startlingly warm and your stomach flipped over. You bit your tongue, trying to kick the feeling away. No. Bad. Don’t start catching feelings for this guy. Elwain bent at the waist, drawing one of your hands up to his lips. His mouth brushed delicately along your knuckles. “I will return. Wait for me.”

His mother’s expression became icier and more remote, but she said nothing as she and Elwain stepped away from you. They moved to somewhere still within your eyesight, but out of earshot. You could tell they were having an intense, whispered conversation, and you could guess that you were the topic, but you couldn’t catch any details.

You were so distracted, trying to catch a whisper of their conversation, that you didn’t notice the Faerie at your side until he had grabbed your arm.

“Little mortal,” he crooned. He was pretty, so much so that it was uncanny to look at. You tried to pull your arm free from his, but his fingers were sharp and immovable as solid wood. He tugged on you, dragging you slowly but undeniably toward the dance floor.

“Little mortals shouldn’t be all alone in Faerie,” he said. His voice bounced around the inside of your head, banging off the sides of your skull until your brain was suffused by ringing noise. It was dizzying. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He was dragging you steadily toward the dance floor. Memories of your studies screamed alarms at you. Mortals trapped in swirling Faerie dances, unable to stop even as their feet bled and their muscles strained with exhaustion. Already, you could hear the enchanting, piping music. Your brain was fuzzing. One of your hands scrabbled for the cold iron pendant under your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy. You couldn’t resist. Why did you even want to resist? The music was so beautiful, leaping through your veins, and it would be so amazing to just be able to dance…

Someone’s hand caught yours. You staggered to a stop, the fog retreating from your brain. The Faerie snarled, dropping his grip on you.

“I would thank you not to try and steal my date,” Elwain said. His voice was freezing. Even with the full force of it turned on someone else, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering. The Faerie that had tried to grab you shrank back.

“Of course, if I had known the mortal was yours, I would have left her alone,” the Faerie said, ducking his head and backing away. “Apologies, my lord.” He scrambled back into the crowd, melting away.

Elwain glared after him until he was gone, then turned to you, offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “Fine.”

“I did tell you to avoid the other Fae,” he said in a scolding tone. You glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said. “He ambushed me.” With Elwain’s arm around yours, the music that had been scrambling your brain seemed distant. He led you back across the room. His fingers were tight on your arm. Even when you were a safe distance away from the other Fae, he didn’t release you.

“Maybe we should stay somewhere else, for now,” he said. He picked his way through the crowd to a gap between the trees and worked his way through them.

It took only a few moments to get to the edge of the forest. The sky overhead was filled with more stars than you’d ever seen. You could even see the gradation of color from the deep navy blue at its zenith to the faint, almost purple color at the edges.

Elwain released your arm and closed his eyes. His expression fell. Suddenly, he looked exhausted and wan. You hesitated before asking, “Did everything go all right with your mother?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She was most displeased,” he said in a haughty tone that suggested he was mimicking her. “Most displeased indeed that I was disgracing the family name by dallying with a mortal.” He rolled his eyes. “You would think she didn’t have mortal blood in her family.”

“She does?” you said. Elwain lifted a shoulder in a moody shrug.

“Most Faeries do, even the nobility. The Queen is rumored to have mortal blood in her lineage, even. Our own reproductive ability is poor. Mortals are much better at breeding. It’s not uncommon for a Faerie to marry another Faerie and sire all his children with one of his mortal servants.”

“Then why is it such a problem to be with me?” Elwain gave you a look that suggested you were either very thick or very naïve.

“You’re allowed to breed with a mortal, but you’re not supposed to treat them as an equal. You’re certainly not supposed to date one, or show her off as your partner. Breeding with mortals is more of an open secret. Actually marrying a mortal would be a huge drop in status, and as the oldest son of my family, it would be a scandal if I even married a Faerie of lower status, much less a mortal.”

“That’s why you thought I would piss off your parents,” you said. “You’re putting your family status in jeopardy.”

Elwain nodded. “Yes. They’re so concerned about my family name, I figured putting it under threat will at least get some kind of reaction.” There was an undercurrent of vindictiveness in his voice. “Perhaps it will at least get them to see that I am a living person and not just a walking vessel for carrying on their line.”

Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. He went stiff, staring at you. “Glad I could help with that. It sounds like a worthy cause. I’m all for pissing off shitty parents.”

Elwain looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then his mouth twitched and he smiled. “Well, then. We should get back and do it some more, shouldn’t we?” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder. Instead of hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, as he had been doing, he kept it in his hand.

There was a faint whistling noise. Something whizzed by your ear and made a dull ‘thunk’ as it embedded itself in the tree trunk behind you.

Your ear was stinging. You reached up and touched it. Your hand came away bloody.

“Get down!” Elwain pulled you into the bushes. His body was nearly on top of yours, pressing you down into the undergrowth. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” you said redundantly. Elwain lifted his head slightly, trying to get a look around the brush. Another arrow whizzed by, slamming into the ground less than an inch from your hand.

Elwain made to grab it and yanked his hand back with a hiss. You could smell sizzing flesh. “It’s cold iron,” he said. “They’re for killing Faeries.” Horror crept into his voice. “They’re here to kill me.”

Another arrow plunged into the ground. This one was less than an inch from one of Elwain’s hands. “We need to move before they get a shot!” you said. “I can distract them, then you can run.”

“Wait! That may not be a good ide-” Before Elwain could finish his protest, you pushed your way out of the bush you’d hidden in and plunged blindly into the woods.

There were several more whistling thunks as arrows rained down on you. One of them ripped its way through the skirt of your dress and you had to pause and wrench it free. When you lifted your gaze to start running again, a shadowy figure descended from the trees in front of you.

They were entirely wrapped in black, so their features were difficult to make out, except for the fact that they were tall and skinny. A hand clapped down on your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck. It was cold, with needle-sharp fingers.

“Little mortal,” they crooned. “We were only told to kill the Faerie. With you, we can do whatever we please.” One of their fingers stroked along your cheek. Your mind fogged. “Wouldn’t you like to be my little plaything? We would have so much fun together. Or perhaps it would be funny for that little lordling to die by your hands? What a fitting death for the mortal lover.”

One of your hands went under your dress. Your brain was fuzzy, but your mind cleared as your fingers brushed your string of rowan berries. Still, you kept your gaze as unfocused as possible. Your other hand was creeping under the back of your dress. Your cold iron knife burned against your thigh. “Call out to him,” the Faerie said. “He’ll come for you, and then we’ll see how he fares when his little pet bites back-”

The Faerie had no chance to react. The knife ripped free from its sheath and you wrenched it up then down in a plunging arc. The blade tore into his chest. The smell of burning meat filled the air around you. Flesh sizzled as you ripped the knife down, carving open his belly.

The Faerie’s expression turned from gloating to terror. He staggered back, hands clamped to his gut. His motion wrenched the knife free from your hand, leaving it embedded in his stomach. He fumbled for it once, twice, before pulling it out of him. A gout of blood poured from the wound, soaking through his black clothes and puddling in the dirt.

He collapsed sideways on the ground. He was still breathing. You could hear the soft, wheezing gasps as he struggled for air. Gradually, the breaths became garbled, gurgling. He coughed, body spasming. Something warm and wet was soaking your feet. You didn’t want to look down. There was so much blood around him, more blood than you’d thought could be in a person.

It took a few moments to realize that the gurgling had stopped.

Something crashed through the bushes behind you. You whirled, lifting your second weapon in your hand. It was smaller, blunter, but maybe if you cracked them over the head, you could stun them for long enough you get away-

“Watch yourself. It’s only me,” Elwain said. He emerged into a shaft of moonlight. His long cloak was hanging in tatters from his shoulder and there were smears of muck and dirt across his face and clothes. His hair was in complete disarray. His gaze traveled up and down your body. “You’re bleeding.”

“No,” you said, stepping back to reveal the body on the ground behind you, “I’m not.”

There was a cold pause. Elwain looked between the body and you several times, as if trying to reconcile the evidence. Finally, he stepped past you and knelt next to the body.

“Cold iron,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I should have searched you before bringing you here. I figured humans had largely forgotten all the old methods.”

“If you had searched me, he would have killed me and then you,” you said in a chilly voice.

“A fair enough point,” Elwain said, albeit a touch reluctantly. “You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” He rustled with the body a bit more, then went still, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What?” you said, leaning over his shoulder. He lifted a silvery pendant, dangling it from a chain around his fingers.

“I recognize this,” he said in a hollow voice. “My family crest.”

You stared at the little triangular that dangled from the chain. “He was from your family.”

“Sent by them, at least. The crest marks him as one of our assassins.” His voice caught. It was only the slightest of noises, something that you almost didn’t notice. For a moment, his expression crumpled. He took in a swift, choked breath and his face smoothed over. His eyes were still distant, staring absently ahead.

You reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened on yours with crushing force. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed deeply. “We need to go. If there’s one, there will be more.” He fumbled with the ties of his cloak. It dropped into the foliage. He was turning to you in a moment, fingers sliding along your bodice. You yelped quietly as he tugged free some of the outer layers of your dress, leaving a shift that would be far easier to run in. Despite the danger, you found yourself focusing on the skim of his fingers against your skin.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Elwain started to tug you through the trees.

He skidded to a stop, gaze darting wildly. “I- I don’t know.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was lost, uncertain. There was nowhere for him to go, you realized. His family was gone. He was being chased by assassins. His life was gone.

Fine. You would take over. “Go back to the mortal world,” you said. “It’ll at least shake them off your tail for a while.”

Elwain blinked at you, expression clearing. His fingers tightened on yours and he picked up into a run. Within a few steps, you were staggering to a stop in a mortal forest.

“They probably won’t come after me,” Elwain said. “They won’t want to draw the attention of mortals. And as long as I’m here, I’m out of their way.” He blinked slowly. “I have been exiled from Faerie on pane of death.” His voice was hollow, weak.

You leaned against him, trying to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”

Elwain tossed his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, grating laugh, nearly inhuman. Your hair stood on end hearing it. “I knew my family had executed political irritants before,” he said between choked breaths, “but I never realized they would count me among the number!”

His laughter broke, turned into wracking sobs. He swayed into your side, pressing his face into your shoulder. You rubbed his back helplessly.

It took some time before he lifted his head again. He looked significantly less magnificent in his tattered clothes, with his eyes bloodshot and puffy. There was something oddly endearing about it, though. “I don’t know where to go,” he said in a quiet voice. “I have never had to stay in the mortal world before.”

“You can stay with me,” you said. “But you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

He looked at you archly, drawing himself up in a way that could have made him look impressive, except the effect was ruined by his running makeup. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to get a job.”

Two weeks later, Elwain came stumbling into the house and fell face-first onto the couch.

“How was work?” you asked. Elwain let out a tortured groan. “That good, huh?”

“Every day I work there and don’t curse someone is a miracle,” he said, voice still muffled in the cushions.

“I mean, you’re doing pretty good. And the tip money is really something,” you said. It was odd to see Elwain in a cheap fast-food uniform, but even that couldn’t dampen his unearthly attractiveness. There had been a small gaggle of people who’d been leaving generous tips along with some suggestive compliments.

Elwain crawled across the couch and planted his head in your lap. You drew your fingers slowly through his hair. “I don’t see why I have to work a job. I could glamour a few stones into diamonds and we would be set for life.”

You snorted. “The illusion would wear off and selling diamonds isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If you’re going to live in the mortal world, you need to live like a mortal.”

Elwain rolled his eyes. “You are a slave driver.”

“Yeah, I’m so cruel,” you laughed. “Maybe next time, I’ll let the assassins get you.”

Elwain sat up. His face had a tendency to flush patchily, with red spreading unevenly over his skin. It was oddly humanizing. “It was rather impressive, that move with the knife under your dress,” he said. “You were far more clever than I gave you credit for.”

“Thank you,” you said, a little smug. “Us mortals are quite impressive, aren’t we?”

“Hmph.” Elwain’s blush deepened. “Yes, well. Out of all the mortals I could have picked, I’m quite pleased it was you.” He curled up in your lap. His face nestled into the crook of your neck. “You are quite a special mortal.”

“Hm.” You smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You could feel Elwain’s mouth move against your skin and the soft rush of his breath as he laughed. “Good. It was intended as such.”

#exophilia #Fae #Faerie #faerie boyfriend #fake dating #monster x human #monster boyfriend #faerie x human #if there's interest in this I'll probably write a part two #I'd like to explore more of Elwain in the human world

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falling-pages · 3 years

Text

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

TW: Drinking

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

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

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

#ouran high school host club #hikaru x haruhi #hikaharu #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #enemies to lovers #ohshc

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